Chapter 81 - We Are Already In Hell

Wuming and Qing Lok also bolted immediately from their seats, but when they got to the front door. Qing Chen had already peeled away, the angry sound of the engine left in the air. Sleep-deprived and tired, Wuming still grabbed the keys and got in the car with his youngest brother.

They quickly turned on the radio and sure enough, there was already a news report about a certain car accident. It was it. They only got the end of it and the name of the hospital where the unidentified victims were taken.

No one was talking all the way to the hospital. He was too focused not to run over somebody and watching the road for any car accidents that would involve his brother's car. Surely, Qing Chen was driving at a speed that would get him in an accident himself or worse, killed.

Wuming tossed the keys to a valet and strode into the hospital. The nurse pointed them to the operating room and at the end of the hallway, they found Qing Chen pacing the small space in front of the doors.

Wuming swallowed. There was only one time that he saw Qing Chen like this—his face set, his jaw locked, and his mind was clearly elsewhere, probably conspiring a plan that would involve something blowing up. The only time he saw Qing Chen like this, was when their mother died and they were trying to find the person who set their house on fire.

Wuming cursed under his breath and turned to Qing Lok who seemed to be as awfully nervous. "He had been acting weird since this afternoon. Let me do the talking."

As if Qing Chen heard them, his head snapped in their direction, and for a moment there was ease in his eyes. It released the tension in Wuming and he found the will to step in his brother's reach.

"How is she?" he asked.

He looked at the closed doors with the curtains pulled. "I got a call from her cell when I got in the car. It was from a nurse. She said she does not look good. She lost a lot of blood when her head hit the window. Her shoulder was dislocated. Her blood pressure is low. They are looking at possible head traumas and injuries."

"How bad was the accident?"

"Their car was speeding on the intersection, a truck collided—hard enough that the car flipped over." Qing Chen was still pacing, the heels of his shoes a defined sound against the tiled floor, like seconds—but most importantly, a rhythm that helped Qing Chen think. "Police are still looking at the possible cause aside from losing the breaks."

Wuming felt his throat tighten. The car flipped. This really had to be what that idiot zoo-man was planning. "Where are the rest of the guards?"

"Both of them are unconscious. One was already stable but the other was dead on arrival, they revived him and he's in the other operating room. A metal pierced his side."

Wuming shivered. If he was going to die, he hoped he would not be in a stupid car. "The driver?"

"He's in a room guarded by two policemen. They are looking at possible concussion when his head hit the wheel. He's also unconscious. The police are not yet able to get his information. "

"And you're planning to blow his room up."

Qing Chen stopped pacing and walked in front of Wuming, the blacks in his eyes swallowed the blue-green, filled with a dark intent. A muscle on his cheek jumped. He wanted to say something but his mouth was sewed shut.

Wuming took a huge breath. He tentatively placed his hands on Qing Chen's shoulders, trying to pat down its strain. "Okay, brother." he said calmly. "Here, why don't you take a seat first and we'll talk?"

When Qing Chen did not move, Wuming tried consoling him. "Hey, I had a contract once that wanted me to assassinate someone with a car accident—I wasn't successful. I had to slip in the hospital a few hours later to smother him with a pillow."

Qing Chen seemed to have moved in the speed of lightning. He had pressed Wuming at the wall with a hard shove. He looked like he was about to send Wuming in the ICU. "What the hell are you saying?!"

Wuming knew a bruise was going to form on the back of his head. "It's okay," he breathed out understandably. "Let it out."

Qing Chen's hold on his jacket tightened as he growled. It was hard for Wuming to see this. Qing Chen was never one to lose his cool and it was painful to see that he was still trying to bury this part of him. He could see it in his brother's eyes, like he was being torn apart. But hell, his wife just got in a car accident. Did he expect he would still be able to keep his emotions at bay? "I can't let this out, Wuming!"

But there it was already. Long before they even arrived. Something inside of him… snapped. "You already have."

With a final shove, Qing Chen let go of Wuming and paced away, his hands ruffling his hair. "Here's what we're going to do." Qing Chen looked at Qing Lok who looked stunned with everything that was happening. "You're going to get in touch with the owner of this hospital. I want that driver's records wiped out of the system and all the physical copies to be burned. If they won't give it, buy this building—double, tripple the price—I don't care. I need this man to disappear. Wait for my next orders."

Qing Lok glanced at Wuming and he quickly nodded. "On it," he said in a quiet voice before stalking off.

"And you," Qing Chen said to Wuming. "I need you to get inside that room, inject him with papaver—"

"Yes, yes, brother," he said. "I am quite knowledgeable with the whatnots. Will you be fine here?"

"Yes," Qing Chen answered, his tone clipped.

"Promise you won't hit a wall?"

"Sweet God, Wuming, can you please just do what I ask you?"

It was good that he was talking and demanding things to get done. His lips quirked upwards. "You know what, Chen. You shouldn't let this part of yourself be gone. You need it now more than ever. Our mother is not going to rise out of the dead and convince us that killing people will get us sent to eternal damnation. We are already in hell. Just let it go. You're our father's son after all." Qing Chen only averted his gaze and Wuming stood up as graceful as ever. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

Wuming looked around for a few minutes before he found the doctor's locker room and swiped a nurse's uniform and a coat. In his new clothes, he glided through the supply room and accessed the paper records in the nurse's counter, smiling with a face mask so no one could identify him.

"Can I take this one?" he asked at the nurse busily typing on the computer.

"Yes."

"Police got a copy of this yet?"

"No," the bored nurse answered. "They don't have a warrant for it yet. But we already have a copy of everything there."

Wuming clicked his tongue and saw the pile of folders on the side of the woman—there was no way he could comb through all those files without being suspicious. He walked towards the room of the 'stupid driver' and signalled to the policemen to step aside.

They let him in and he quickly injected the syringe. The man had a white wrap on his head but his breathing was fine and his heart monitor was beeping steadily… well, not for long.

He seemed too normal to be caught up in The Zoo's organization. He was skin and bones. But we never really know. Hitmen looked like normal people that was why they get hired. He threw the things he used in a trashcan and when he rounded the corner to the operating room where Qing Chen was, he found that his brother was already speaking with doctors. He waited until they finished before he got back.

"What did they say?"

Qing Chen's face was still hard as a wall but his eyes were in relief. "They said she is stable and that there are no signs of brain injury as of the moment but we would all be waiting for her to wake up to know for sure. They estimate it would be late tonight or early tomorrow morning. She had a cut on her head when she hit it on the window and she lost blood and her shoulder is okay but it's on a sling. They are transferring her to a different room now for monitoring."

"Plenty of time, then," Wuming nodded. Yep, definitely much like his failed trial when he got that contract to kill by a car accident. There was just too much metal in between them. "You know…" he said to Qing Chen, "Maybe they were not trying to kill her just yet."

"Yeah, I have thought about that too." It was like another layer of bricks was added in his demeanor.

When they rolled Feng Xuan into the VIP suite, Wuming thought she looked dead. She was pale as a ghost. Her face was devoid of any color apart from her eyebrows and lashes. There were machines by her bed that continuously made sounds. The doctor said that they already transfused blood and that she should be returning to color soon enough.

Qing Chen got in touch with Qing Lok and gave multiple orders: to get their personal doctors to attend to Feng Xuan, that he needed men outside her room and another two inside, to set up a car near the fire exit of the hospital, and a reminder of his original task.

As they were waiting for Qing Lok's next call, Wuming could not help but ask. "Why did you pass that ten-year plan?"

Qing Chen was seated on the side of the bed, his hand on Feng Xuan's. His eyes intent on her face. "Father was asking for it."

"But your plans are crazy."

"I know," he whispered. "But I have to do it. I can't live like this anymore. We already lost mom because of the mafia. I'm not going to lose anybody else."

Wuming suddenly remembered their mother, she was brought out by the firemen already lifeless. A man pretended to be their gardener for a time then one day set the house on fire. Their mother got trapped inside.

"But why now?" Wuming asked. "You could've chosen a better day to do that."

"No," Qing Chen said, his voice stern but quiet, like he was afraid to wake Feng Xuan. "When you were gone I hardly slept. I was thinking you would wind up dead on some shore half-way across the world. I can't keep quiet about it anymore. And now this? I can't, Wuming," he said and for the first time today, he saw his brother vulnerable. "I can't live the rest of my life with the constant threat."

Wuming turned away. He knew his brother was the softest among the three of them but it still hit him like a bulldozer. "I told you I was coming back."

"We never always know that, Wei."

Wuming's throat swelled. Qing Chen hardly called him Wei after he left, but when he did, it was like a stab to his heart—a reminder of what he left and what he did to his brother when he decided to skip town. He almost got down on his knees to seek apology but Qing Chen's phone suddenly rang and he was boarded up again.

"Thanks, Lok. I need you here with Feng Xuan. Okay."

A couple of men knocked on the door. Qing Chen turned to him. "Let's go."

Qing Chen held Feng Xuan's cold hand. He had been feeling her pulse since earlier. It was weak but it was there. It broke him to see her like this. "I'll be back soon, wife. I'll be here when you wake up." He pressed a kiss to her cheek before getting out of the room.

Wuming tossed Qing Chen a doctor's coat and a face mask together with the clipboard of the unnamed man. There were no information about him aside from the medical treatment he received. Just then, they heard the insistent beeping somewhere below and the police were in panic—running around screaming for help.

"Just in time," he said under his breath.

The brothers bolted to a run and reached it before any doctors could come to the rescue. "What happened?" Qing Chen asked the police when he saw the body twitching wildly on the bed, like it was writhing in pain.

"We don't know!" the policeman's eyes was wide as he stared at the raging heart monitor.

Qing Chen pulled its connection and the noise stopped. He and Wuming pushed the bed to the door.

"Where are you taking him?!" the police asked.

"We need to get him an immediate MRI scan so we can proceed to the operation, he might be hemorrhaging." Wuming did not know if what he said was correct—but neither did the confused policeman.

"Bring that man back here. We still need his information and what happened on the road." The police warned, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.

"Yes, we will. If you would just help us to the elevators."

They all pushed the hospital bed to the nearest one and immediately closed the door, pressing the ground floor button. The spasming almost stopped by now and the eyes of the man on the bed was fluttering open and Qing Chen almost killed him right then and there. His wife was upstairs still unconscious and this asshole was awake.

He almost did reach to strangle the man to death but Wuming's voice brought him back to reality. "Hey! Not here."

They roughly hauled the man to the fire exit and into the black car in a span of breaths. Less than two minutes when they got him out of the room, they were already speeding in the highway.