87: Chapter 87 You think wearing a diaper in the Middle East will make you bulletproof?

The emergency surgery corridor was filled with the smell of disinfectant.

Li Li held up his gauze-wrapped left hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket with his right.

There were eight missed calls on the screen.

Seven were from the same number; the eighth was a 32-second WeChat voice message.

He hadn't had a chance to play it.

The phone rang again.

Jiang Rumu.

He answered.

"Where are you?"

The first sentence she spoke wasn't "Hello" or "Hi"; she even omitted the subject.

Li Li had intended to say he was at home, but the sound of a doctor calling a number came from behind him.

"The hospital."

There was a full two seconds of silence on the other end.

"What did you say?"

"Just getting a check-up, nothing—"

"I'm asking you, was it you who put out the fire at Sanyuan Bridge?"

Li Li glanced at the nurse leading the way and lowered his voice.

"What fire?"

"Li Li."

"The video is too blurry, you saw it wrong—"

"Don't play dumb with me."

Jiang Rumu's voice was extremely low, so low he could hear the faint friction of her teeth clenching.

"When that person climbed over the balcony, his left wrist turned half a circle. That's your habit."

Li Li fell silent.

He walked into the imaging department waiting area and sat down on a plastic chair. The nurse handed him a number tag. He took it, his fingers pinching the edge of the tag twice.

"...It was me."

It was quiet for three seconds on the other end.

"Where are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt—"

"You're at the hospital getting a check-up, and you're telling me you're not hurt?"

"It's a routine check-up requested by the Fire Department, just following procedure."

"Li Li."

"I'm really fine."

"Do you think I believe that?"

Li Li leaned back against the chair, staring at the flickering light tube on the waiting area ceiling.

"I just scraped the skin on the back of my hand. Nothing else."

He didn't mention his wrist. The old injury had nothing to do with today's events, and mentioning it would only make her worry more.

The rhythm of her breathing on the other end of the line shifted.

"You are not a Firefighter, you don't have equipment, what right do you have to enter a burning building?"

"There was a three-year-old child inside—"

"So what? Does that mean you can just go and die?"

A young mother holding a child in the waiting area glanced over at him.

Li Li stood up and walked to the end of the corridor, leaning against the fire door, lowering his voice to the minimum.

"I didn't plan on dying. I took precautions, assessed the path, and wrapped myself in a wet towel—"

"You call wrapping yourself in a towel a precaution? If I sent you to the Middle East, would you think slapping a diaper on your face counts as bulletproof?"

"...That's not the same."

"How is it not the same? Both are gambling with your life."

Li Li rotated his left wrist.

A sharp pain.

He reflexively let go.

"It won't happen again."

"There is not allowed to be a next time."

"Mm."

"If you dare—"

Her voice suddenly cut off.

She paused for two seconds.

"...Hmph."

She hung up.

Li Li looked at the screen; the call duration was four minutes and seventeen seconds.

The lingering echo of that "hmph" still hung in his ears, carrying a nasal resonance, the end slightly curled upward just a tiny bit.

An angry "hmph."

A worried "hmph."

A slightly coquettish "hmph."

Fine.

He put his phone away and walked back to the waiting area.

His number was called.

—

He lay in the CT scan room for eight minutes.

He came out to wait for the results, leaning on a corridor chair and scrolling through his phone.

The fourth trending topic — #Mysterious Man Rescues People from Fire at Sanyuan Bridge#.

He clicked on it.

The video sources were all over the place. Some were filmed by people downstairs, some by residents in the building opposite sticking their phones out of windows, and there was even an angle from a security guard's dashcam, capturing only a blurry white figure darting into the building entrance.

The image quality was atrocious.

A twenty-yuan budget phone paired with four thousand yuan's worth of shaking; the effect was on par with footage of the Loch Ness Monster.

The comment section was already going crazy.

"Who is this guy! He climbed over from the balcony next door? It's the sixth floor!"

"He saved a three-year-old girl! A hero! We must find him!"

"I've watched the footage of him hanging from the balcony with one arm and pulling her up twenty times; my palms are sweating."

"Is there a clear photo of his face! Not even one?"

None. The old building had no surveillance, the street lighting was equivalent to a candle, and with his body 95% covered in dust, his face in every video was just a blob of encoded noise.

He scrolled down.

"Wait, look at the clothes this person is wearing. White T-shirt, black pants, old backpack... doesn't it look like Li Li from the Dating Reality Show?"

A reply followed underneath:

"Are Li Li's fans delusional? Do you have to force every trending topic onto your 'brother'? You're even trying to latch onto a hero who saved people from a fire?"

"Exactly, Li Li is just an internet celebrity, climbing a sixth-floor balcony to save someone? Do you think this is filming a variety show?"

"I suggest the fans stop while they're ahead; this kind of behavior is an insult to a real hero."

That speculative comment was downvoted over three thousand times.

Li Li flipped his phone over, face down on his thigh.

Fine.

"Li Li? The CT results are out."

The doctor on duty walked over with the films and clipped them onto the light box.

"There are signs of a healed old fracture in the scaphoid area of your left wrist. The callus formation is complete, but the joint surface is not very smooth. This is not a new injury from today."

The doctor pointed to a faint white line on the film.

"You might not feel this kind of old injury normally, but once it's subjected to impact or excessive weight, the pain will be triggered."

"I'll prescribe some anti-inflammatory and pain-relief medication. Go home and make sure to rest. Do not lift heavy objects with your left hand for at least two weeks."

The doctor scribbled out the prescription and glanced at his dust-covered face.

"Also—don't do this kind of thing next time."

"My mom says the same thing."

"Your mom is right."

He took the prescription and turned to walk toward the pharmacy.

As he turned the corner of the corridor, a lowered voice came from behind him.

"Um—"

He turned back.

Behind the triage desk, a young woman wearing an "Intern Physician" badge had slightly flushed cheeks.

"Excuse me... are you that Li Li who participated in the Dating Reality Show?"

With this look—soaked white T-shirt, blood stains on his knees, gauze wrapped from his left hand to his wrist—he could still be recognized?

"...Yes."

They took two photos together; the girl was too nervous and closed her eyes in the first one, but the second one turned out well.

"You're amazing, thank you for saving that child."

"It was the right thing to do."

Nobody online believed he was the hero from the fire.

In reality, an intern recognized him in two seconds.

It was pretty surreal.

—

After getting the medicine, he took a taxi back to the entrance of the Yudeli residential area alley.

His backpack was still there, dusty, leaning against the roots of a locust tree with its zipper half-open.

He patted off the dust and opened it to take a look. The group photo of those brats from the orphanage was still inside.

Inside the Third Ring Road of the Imperial Capital, in the middle of the night, left unattended for two hours.

The motherland's safety index is number one in the world.

He walked back out the way he came, turned right, and passed two traffic lights.

The Xinghui Apartment Hotel recommended by that guy in the livestream was just three hundred meters ahead.

He pushed the door open and went in.

The receptionist was a young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, his shirt buttoned up to the top collar.

"Hello, do you need to check in?"

"Do you have a one-bedroom apartment?"

"Yes, we do. Eighty square meters, fully furnished, eight hundred per day, monthly rent—"

"Can I get a discount if I give a name?"

The receptionist paused for a moment.

"Whose name would you like to provide?"

Li Li pursed his lips.

He remembered the nickname of that guy from the livestream very clearly.

And precisely because he remembered it too clearly, standing at the front desk and saying it out loud required a bit of mental preparation.

"Old Asshole."

The receptionist.

The pupils behind his glasses noticeably dilated.

His hand hovered over the keyboard, motionless.

"No—I'm not cursing you." Li Li quickly added, "This is a person's name, a screen name. He said it could get me a discount."

The receptionist maintained his professional smile, but the curve of that smile was trembling.

He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, Boss... A guest gave your... that name... Yes, that one... Okay, okay."

He hung up. His smile returned to a stable state.

"Sir, our boss has confirmed it. You get a 40% discount on the room."

60% of the price. Four hundred and eighty.

It was more expensive than the rental, but it included a gym, swimming pool, and breakfast.

He'd take it.

He registered, scanned his face, and took the room card. Ninth floor, eighty square meters.

Three times larger than the rental, one-third smaller than the Bulgari.

It was enough.

He threw his backpack onto the sofa, stripped off his clothes, and shoved them into the washing machine. He rushed into the bathroom.

The moment the hot water hit him, his knees nearly gave out onto the tiles. He leaned against the wall for thirty seconds, waiting for the soreness to pass.

The water turned from gray to light gray, then to clear.

After showering for twenty minutes, he came out, put on a bathrobe, and collapsed onto the bed.

His phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

He answered it.

"Li Li? It's Director Pei Zhao. I changed my number."

The director's voice was exactly the same as before, carrying three parts exhaustion and seven parts excitement.

"Director Pei."

"The Dating Reality Show has officially ended; I'll send you the data report later. I'm calling today about something else—"

Director Pei Zhao paused.

"A new variety show has been approved."

"What type?"

"It has continuity with the Dating Reality Show. We'll discuss the specific format when we meet. It's scheduled to start filming in two and a half months."

"Why the long wait?"

"Two reasons. First, the venue construction is extensive, and the renovation period can't be compressed. Second..."

Director Pei Zhao drew out the sound.

"There's a guest we really want to invite, but her schedule won't be free until two and a half months later."

Li Li turned over and switched the phone to his other hand.

"Who's such a big shot?"

Director Pei Zhao laughed on the other end of the line. It was a laugh he had heard in the Middle East; whenever Director Pei Zhao was planning some earth-shattering project, this was the laugh he used.

"Why don't you ask her in person?"

There was a burst of static on the phone.

Someone took over the receiver.

"Ask what?"

That woman's voice, with a slight nasal tone—the one that had just "hmph-ed" at him twenty minutes ago—flowed steadily out of the receiver.

Li Li's hand holding the phone froze in mid-air.

"Your leg is still in a cast, what variety show are you filming?"

"The cast will be long gone in two and a half months."

"Your management company—"

"My contract expires in two months. I'll be a free agent by then."

She paused.

"What, no welcome for your senior?"

Li Li leaned against the headboard, his left wrist aching faintly.

The red indicator light on the smoke alarm on the ceiling was blinking on and off.

He stared at that red dot for two seconds.

Red.

Her color.

"Welcome, Senior Jiang."

On the other end of the receiver, someone laughed softly.

Just as he hung up the phone, Li Li heard a long-lost system notification.