Chapter 30 Survival

The hospital room was very quiet, with only the faint ticking of the monitor.

Lin Mo held Zhao Gang's hand; it was rough and strong, yet now it hung limply by the bedside.

His gaze fell on Zhao Gang's face—that perpetually cold and hard face was now so pale it was almost devoid of color.

"Dr. Lin," Zhao Gang opened his eyes, his mouth pulling into a smile, "What's with that expression? I'm not dead yet."

Lin Mo froze for a moment, then smiled, his eyes stinging.

"Captain Zhao," his voice was a bit hoarse, "You scared me to death."

Zhao Gang wanted to sit up, but the wound on his left arm made him frown, and he lay back down.

"Don't move!" Lin Mo quickly pressed him down, "The doctor said you need to rest quietly."

Zhao Gang ignored him, propped himself up with his right hand, and sat up anyway.

He leaned against the headboard, looking at Lin Mo with a strange expression in his eyes.

"Dr. Lin, I keep my word."

Lin Mo looked at him, suddenly not knowing what to say.

The sun outside the window was bright, shining into the hospital room and bathing the white walls in a warm hue.

The two of them were silent; neither spoke.

In the end, it was Zhao Gang who spoke first.

"Want to hear a story?" he asked.

Lin Mo nodded.

Zhao Gang looked out the window, his gaze becoming distant.

"I enlisted at eighteen, spent three months in the recruit company, and was selected for the reconnaissance company."

His voice was low, as if he were talking about someone else's affairs, "I was young then, thought I was the chosen one, capable of completing any mission."

He paused: "My first mission was on the southwest border. We chased a group of drug dealers for three days and three nights. Finally, we cornered them in the mountains. During the firefight, a comrade beside me was shot."

Lin Mo's breathing slowed.

"He was only nineteen, a year younger than me." Zhao Gang's gaze was unfocused, "The bullet went through his neck, blood flowing all over the ground. I held his wound, but no matter how I tried, I couldn't stop it. He just looked at me, wanting to say something, but couldn't."

The room was so quiet you could hear the wind outside the window.

"Later, he died," Zhao Gang said, "Died in my arms."

Lin Mo was silent, not knowing what to say.

Zhao Gang turned his head and looked at him: "From then on, I swore I would never let anyone die in front of me again."

He raised his right hand and pointed to the bandage on his left arm: "That grenade today—if it had exploded, that driver would have been gone. He's only twenty-three, just married, and his wife is pregnant."

He smiled, a faint smile: "My arm in exchange for his life—it's worth it."

Lin Mo looked at him, an indescribable emotion welling up in his heart.

"Captain Zhao," he began, his voice a bit raspy, "Do you know why I do research?"

Zhao Gang looked at him.

Lin Mo stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to him.

"My father was a middle school physics teacher," he said, "When I was a child, he would tell me about the Big Bang, relativity, and quantum mechanics. I didn't understand it, but he loved talking about it."

He paused: "He said that the greatest thing about humanity is that we are never satisfied with the status quo. We want to know what's at the end of the universe, where time began, and why we exist."

"Later, he got cancer," Lin Mo's voice dropped, "Before he passed, he held my hand and said, 'Son, go see those places I couldn't see for me.'"

Zhao Gang didn't speak.

Lin Mo turned around and looked at him: "So I do research, not for fame, not for money. It's because I want to see the places my father didn't get to see."

He looked into Zhao Gang's eyes: "Captain Zhao, you risked your life to protect me, not because I am Lin Mo. It's because what I do is worth you risking your life to protect. Right?"

Zhao Gang was silent for a few seconds, then nodded.

"Right."

Lin Mo smiled, walked back to the bedside, and sat down next to him.

"So you see," he said, "we are the same kind of people."

Zhao Gang raised an eyebrow: "The same?"

"You protect the people in front of you," Lin Mo said, "I want to make life better for the people of the future. One civil, one martial—a perfect partnership."

Zhao Gang stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.

That was the first time Lin Mo had seen him smile so relaxedly—not a cold sneer, not a bitter smile, but a genuine, heartfelt smile.

"One civil, one martial," he repeated, "Alright, I like that description."

He extended his right hand, forming a fist.

Lin Mo froze for a moment, then also extended his right hand, forming a fist.

The two fists bumped together.

"From now on," Zhao Gang said, "Your business is my business."

Lin Mo nodded: "Same here."

Outside the door, Fang Lin stood in the corridor, watching this scene through the glass on the door.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and she turned and left.

In the afternoon, Li Xiao rushed into the hospital room carrying a large bouquet of flowers.

"Captain Zhao!" She ran in, put the flowers on the headboard, her eyes red, "You scared me to death! I thought..."

Zhao Gang looked at the bouquet—colorful, messy, clearly bought randomly from a roadside stall.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Flowers!" Li Xiao said matter-of-factly, "You have to bring flowers when visiting a patient; that's the rule!"

Zhao Gang looked at the flowers, was silent for two seconds, then said: "Thank you."

Li Xiao froze for a moment, then her eyes turned red again.

"Captain Zhao," she said softly, "Don't do that again in the future; it's too scary."

Zhao Gang glanced at her: "Do what?"

"Just... risking your life," Li Xiao said, "Teacher Lin said you two are a civil and martial pair, working together on big things. If you were gone, who would he partner with?"

Zhao Gang froze for a moment, then looked at Lin Mo.

Lin Mo shrugged: "I didn't say that."

"You did say that!" Li Xiao insisted, "You said Captain Zhao protects the present, you create the future—one civil, one martial, just right!"

Zhao Gang couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright," he said, "I'll try not to risk my life in the future."

Li Xiao then broke into a smile through her tears: "That's more like it."

In the evening, Lin Mo had to return to the base.

He stood by the hospital bed, looking at Zhao Gang.

"Rest up and heal well," he said, "I've got things covered at the base."

Zhao Gang nodded: "Go ahead."

Lin Mo turned to leave, but suddenly stopped.

"Captain Zhao," he said without looking back, "Thank you."

Zhao Gang watched his back, not speaking.

Lin Mo walked out of the hospital room, and the door closed behind him.

Zhao Gang leaned against the headboard, watching the sky outside the window gradually darken, a hint of a smile on his lips.

One civil, one martial.

That phrase, it's pretty good.

At eight in the evening, Lin Mo returned to the base.

In the laboratory, Zhang Zhe was still looking at data. Seeing him come in, he looked up: "How is he?"

"He's fine," Lin Mo said, "Minor injuries, he'll be better in a few days."

Zhang Zhe nodded and continued looking at the data.

Lin Mo walked to the window, looking at the night outside.

The mountains undulated under the moonlight like silent giant beasts. In the distance, the lights of the base were like scattered stars, connecting into a single expanse.

He suddenly remembered the story Zhao Gang told.

That nineteen-year-old comrade who died in his arms.

From that day on, he swore he would never let anyone die in front of him again.

Lin Mo closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He knew that from now on, he was no longer alone.

No matter how difficult the path ahead, no matter how strong the opponent.

With Zhao Gang there, with the team there, with the whole country there.

There is nothing to fear.