194: Chapter 195 A Heartless Sports Car!
The twilight dyed the wooden sign of "Fuji Restaurant" a warm orange. Zhang Fan walked out of the restaurant with Li Yong. The wind in the alley carried the scent of dinner smoke, but it couldn't blow away the anxiety in his heart.
The blood-red warning from the system was still flashing in his consciousness. The three terms "Wang Haoyu," "Li Yong," and "Fatal Threat" pricked his nerves like needles. He gripped the USB drive in his pocket, his fingertips cold. Several times he wanted to speak up to warn Li Yong, but he didn't know how to say it.
Say there was danger? But where was the danger? Say Wang Haoyu was going to make a move? But even the system didn't specify the opponent's methods.
"Little Zhang, what's wrong with you?" Li Yong's hand suddenly rested on his wrist. The old TCM doctor's fingertips accurately touched his pulse, and his brows furrowed instantly. "Your pulse is fast and chaotic, and your Qi is stagnant. You're hiding something in your heart. You're young; don't push yourself too hard."
Zhang Fan snapped back to his senses and met Li Yong's searching gaze. Just as he was about to make up an excuse about being "too tired lately," a roar that tore through the air suddenly came from afar—it wasn't the engine sound of an ordinary car, but the roar of a supercar's accelerator pressed to the floor, like an out-of-control beast, charging crazily from the end of the alley!
"Vroom—!"
The sound grew closer and closer, shaking the window glass in the alley. Zhang Fan jerked his head around and saw a blinding red light and shadow darting out from the alley entrance. The screech of tires rubbing against the ground was almost enough to pierce his eardrums.
It was a red ferrari. The car body swayed as it knocked over a roadside trash can, completely ignoring the boundaries between the sidewalk and the lane. The front of the car was aimed directly at him and Li Yong!
"Watch out!" Zhang Fan instinctively tried to pull Li Yong back, but when his gaze swept to the restaurant entrance, his heart suddenly stopped—a little girl with pigtails, still clutching an unfinished tanghulu in her hand, was standing blankly in the path of the sports car. She was so terrified that her legs had gone soft, and she even forgot to cry.
That was the restaurant owner's daughter. Just a moment ago, she had greeted Li Yong at the door, calling him "Grandpa Li."
At this critical moment, Li Yong's reaction was faster than Zhang Fan's. This nearly seventy-year-old man didn't hesitate for a second, nor did he try to dodge the crazily charging sports car. Instead, he abruptly broke free from Zhang Fan's hand, his hunched body exploding with startling strength as he lunged toward the little girl!
"Get out of the way!" Li Yong's shout cracked. He grabbed the little girl's waist and pushed her toward the corner of the wall with all his might—his movement was as fast as a gust of wind, even causing Zhang Fan, who was brushed by his arm, to stumble back to the base of the wall.
But he himself was completely exposed directly in front of the sports car.
Zhang Fan's pupils constricted as he watched the front of the red ferrari get closer and closer, close enough to see Wang Haoyu's distorted face in the driver's seat—his eyes were blood-red, a crazed smile hung on the corners of his mouth, and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. With the accelerator pressed to the floor, the engine's roar was filled with the ruthlessness of mutual destruction!
"Bang—!"
A loud crash shook the world. The red ferrari slammed hard into Li Yong. The old TCM doctor's thin body flew up like a broken kite, drawing a startling line of blood in the air before crashing heavily against the restaurant's brick wall and slowly sliding to the ground.
The sound of bones cracking mingled with the crashing of the collapsing brick wall, and screams instantly erupted in the alley. The little girl's crying, the restaurant owner's roar, the gasps of bystanders, and the muffled sound of the sports car's engine stalling after hitting the wall wove into a suffocating net.
The front of the ferrari was smashed to pieces, and the airbags had deployed. Wang Haoyu slumped in the driver's seat, blood from his forehead flowing down his cheek. His eyes were wide open, and he had long since stopped breathing—he had floored the accelerator but didn't expect to crash through the brick wall, his sternum crushed by the steering wheel.
"Uncle Li!" Zhang Fan rushed over like crazy and knelt beside Li Yong. His hands trembled as he tried to support him, only to feel a handful of warm blood. Li Yong's blue cloth tunic was soaked through, his chest had collapsed, and his breathing was so weak it was almost imperceptible. Only his eyes were half-open, staring fixedly at Zhang Fan's pocket.
His fingers rose with difficulty and grabbed Zhang Fan's sleeve, his fingertips turning white from the effort. A "he-he" sound came from his throat, as if he had countless things to say, but he could only squeeze out two words. The voice was as light as a feather, yet it crashed heavily onto Zhang Fan's heart:
"Save... people..."
After the words fell, Li Yong's hand dropped limply. His head slowly tilted to the side, and those eyes that always carried a gentle smile completely lost their luster.
The wind in the alley suddenly became very cold. Zhang Fan knelt in a pool of blood, holding the body that was gradually turning cold, his mind a complete blank. The scene of Li Yong lunging toward the little girl, the line of blood when he was sent flying, and that final "save people" flashed repeatedly before his eyes like knives, cutting his heart until it was bloody.
He remembered the first time he met Li Yong; the old man was brewing herbal medicine in the clinic, saying, "To treat the disease, one must first treat the heart." He remembered Li Yong staying up late to organize thirty years of medical cases, saying, "AI can save more people." He remembered Li Yong smiling after the trial, saying, "In the future, I can still treat the neighbors." He remembered just now in the restaurant, when the old man pushed the USB drive to him and said, "Only you can walk the second half of this road."
This old TCM doctor who had spent his life saving the dying and helping the injured was still thinking about saving others until the very last moment.
"Uncle Li..." Zhang Fan's voice was terribly hoarse. Tears finally couldn't help but fall, splashing onto Li Yong's blood-stained lapel. "Don't worry, I will definitely save more people. I will definitely get the anti-cancer drug on the market. I will definitely... not let your sacrifice be in vain."
The sound of sirens came from afar, and the alternating red and blue lights grew closer. But Zhang Fan felt the whole world was terrifyingly quiet. He carefully laid Li Yong's body flat and took out the waterproof and fireproof USB drive from his pocket, gripping it tightly in his hand—this was Li Yong's life's work, the hope he had protected with his life. Now, it was his turn to carry it.
He looked up at the smashed red ferrari and at Wang Haoyu's corpse in the driver's seat. The sorrow in his eyes was gradually replaced by a cold fury. Wang Haoyu was dead, but the instigator of all this was the Tianming Group, and the "Bishop" hiding behind the scenes.
They used lies to frame Li Yong, used power to suppress justice, and finally used hatred to drive a kind doctor to his death. This debt must be settled.
The sirens stopped at the alley entrance. The figures of police and ambulances rushed in, but Zhang Fan remained kneeling on the spot, gripping the USB drive, his gaze fixed on the direction of the alley entrance.
He knew that from the moment Li Yong closed his eyes, this war against the Tianming Group was no longer just for the formula or for business, but for revenge, and to protect the original intention of "saving people" that Li Yong had exchanged his life for.
Tianming Group, you owe Li Yong a life, and you owe the cancer patients of the world a hope. This debt, I, Zhang Fan, will collect bit by bit, with interest.