Cured by Destiny

Chapter 14 — Grey Testimony

The hospital ran today in white order. Walls were white, sheets were white, even the corridor lights had a cold metallic glow. Everything felt precise and repetitive — like coins stamped one by one. The air smelled of disinfectant mixed with the faint bitter coffee from the nurses’ machine at the end of the hall. The staff used that coffee to stay awake.

But today every face looked as if it were tied with a string. The accident pulled everyone along. Tension moved through the corridors like an invisible hand, pressing at throats.

Ning Yu sat straight at the meeting table. His black suit was a shield separating him from the room. A thick stack of files lay before him, edges slightly curled. Between the pages were monitor screenshots and printed logs. In the bright lights the black-and-white images looked sharp and harsh. The hospital director, legal rep, the pharmacology chief sat across from him. The room felt like a pulled bow — ready to snap.

The pharmacology chief spoke tiredly, voice rough: “We checked all variables. Supply chain is fine. Production batch shows no issue. External QC passed.” He rubbed his red eyes. “But inside the hospital, the chain of custody was altered. The timestamps show that a period around 2:00 a.m. was covered up.”

Ning Yu nodded slowly, eyes scanning faces like an eagle. His fingers drummed on the table, a clear tap tap in the quiet.

“Who has system access? Which accounts can modify logs?” he asked, low and steady.

The legal rep flipped through lists. His glasses slid slightly down his nose. “Pharmacology coordinators and duty engineer accounts have rights,” he said in a dry voice. “But the sample was destroyed and the original bottle chain is broken. Backups show signs of overwrite and the rollback records are deleted.”

Shen Yu stood. His figure was long under the lights. He pushed a frame of footage onto the projector. The screen lit up. The image showed the pharmacology corridor at night. A hooded figure in a white coat moved calmly, replacing bottles and changing labels. Shen Yu zoomed in on the hands and the angle of movement — every detail showed practiced skill.

“This was 2:12 a.m.,” Shen Yu said coldly. “The person’s actions are practiced, like someone who’s done this many times. The system shows the ‘destruction’ happened at 2:20 a.m.”

Lin Wanqing kept her gentle tone. “Our duty roster is clear. I was doing routine batch checks that night. Maybe the footage is misunderstood,” she said, smiling faintly. Her eyes stayed calm.

“Misunderstood?” Ning Yu’s look was hard, like the back of a blade. “Can you confirm that the figure in the footage is not you?” He stared to find any c***k in her composure.

Lin Wanqing smiled softly. “Such an accusation needs proof. We can compare all logs again. I declare I never altered any records.” Her voice did not waver. She spoke as if stating a fact unrelated to herself.

The room fell into quiet, like someone had pressed pause. Everyone listened, stunned and suspicious.

---

After the meeting, Ning Yu and Shen Yu stayed behind. No small talk — only purpose. Shen Yu had his hands in his pockets, eyes sharp.

“In the footage the person wore a thin silver ring on a finger,” he said. “That ring isn’t common. I checked — only a few people wear something like that in the hospital.”

Ning Yu tapped the table with his finger as if drawing a line. “Freeze all pharmacology access. Hand over all physical records and keys. Law will bring in an external forensics team.” His voice was calm, but heavy.

“She’ll know we’re checking,” Shen Yu warned. He frowned. “If she notices, we may lose the original evidence.”

Ning Yu did not speak for a moment. Then: “Don’t tell her yet. Call this an ‘internal audit’ and verify item by item. And— quietly — help me follow this thread to the end.” His eyes were steady, determined.

Shen Yu nodded. They had an unspoken agreement. The plan slid into place in the silence.

---

Meanwhile, Su Wan sat in a small meeting room set aside for her. The room was plain, a simple ink-mountain painting on the wall. A cup of orange-peel tea warmed her hands. A blank form lay in front of her.

Lin Xi came to see her. She wore a light coat and moved with quiet grace. She placed a hand on Su Wan’s back. The touch was neither comfort nor reproach — it was a reminder. “Don’t let old habits make you suffer again,” she said softly.

Su Wan looked tired but clear. Her fingers found the tea cup rim and rubbed it, a small steadying motion. “I know,” she said. “This time I will keep everything that proves my innocence: surgery notes, d**g receipt logs, handover records… I will list everything I know.” Her voice was rough but firm.

Lin Xi opened a notebook. “I’ll help. As a psychologist I can help you practice answering questions. As a friend I’ll read expressions you might miss.” Her voice was kind and confident.

They worked late. Moonlight cut silver patches on the floor. They made a long checklist: every signature and time, each opened bottle, the nurses on duty and their contacts. Lin Xi sorted evidence into three columns: provable, questionable, needs tracing. The list made chaos feel manageable. Su Wan felt a small comfort.

---

The next morning sunlight fell across the hospital. The pharmacology department was sealed. Caution tape blocked the door while technicians moved in and out in white coveralls, carrying instruments. They worked quickly and seriously.

Using a read-only mode under an engineering account, the techs restored overwritten log pieces. Code and data flickered on screens. Timestamps returned like puzzle pieces: 02:05, 02:12, 02:14… but the final operator was shown as a “collaboration account” — no single person named.

Shen Yu sat at a screen, frowning. He zoomed into the frame showing label changes and compared the hand movements to known routines. The way a label was smoothed down or how a bottle was tilted — these were small, habitual gestures.

“These habits match her normal verification actions,” Shen Yu said. “Not a fake move, but trained muscle memory.”

Ning Yu cut in: “We must find the chain that links her directly to the act — who left the camera range, who handled the ‘destroyed’ sample.”

The legal team slid a preliminary external report across the table. The footage showed the storage camera had been taken offline for three minutes for maintenance. That maintenance record was initiated by the pharmacology engineer account. That engineer account had been borrowed by a general account labeled “temporary approval.”

“Temporary approval?” Ning Yu’s knuckles whitened on the table. “Who can authorize a temporary camera shutdown?”

The pharmacology chief stammered. “Usually the department head signs off. The duty roster shows Lin Wanqing on that shift.” He looked as if the words choked him.

The room felt the sting of that name like a knife.

---

The afternoon hall felt longer. Lin Wanqing answered calls with a steady voice, calm and polite. She acted like an efficient coordinator: patient, courteous, precise. She smiled and the office breathed a little easier.

Shen Yu and Ning Yu compared notes privately. Shen Yu pointed at a map on the screen. “A temporary approval creates an ‘operation token’ valid only at specific terminals. The angle to break in is: who touched that terminal and was the access record scrubbed?” He sounded focused, like a puzzle solver who’d found a clue.

They pulled cleaning and maintenance logs from the night. Among them, a tiny port log showed a foreign terminal briefly near the pharmacology counter at 2:09 a.m. — it appeared for less than a minute, not long enough to see a face.

“Short and precise,” Shen Yu said. “That shows planning, coordination. Not a sudden act.”

Ning Yu stared at the snowy street outside as if it gave him cold energy. He grew determined.

---

At night Lin Xi interviewed nurses who worked overnight. She asked gentle, indirect questions that let memories surface. “Who went by the pharmacology area? Who borrowed keys? Who followed orders?”

One nurse whispered she remembered a figure at the corridor end, standing very still, like waiting for someone. Another said the camera was ‘being maintained’ but she heard footsteps — measured, confident. These testimonies were small, shaky, but they added up like taps on a wall.

Lin Xi organized them and handed the notes to Shen Yu and Ning Yu. The three of them gathered around the table with files, like detectives piecing a play. Ning Yu’s voice dropped: “She didn’t act alone. This level of coordination needs cover.”

“What’s next?” Shen Yu asked.

“Expose one foreign terminal user,” Lin Xi answered. “See if that pulls the rest out. Find the source.”

---

Late, the hospital quieted. Moonlight made silver patches on the floor. Su Wan sat alone, laying out a timeline. She circled every time she signed, every handover. Her eyes were focused and steady. She checked and rechecked the list.

She gave the timeline to Lin Xi. Lin Xi nodded. “Leave these with me. I’ll rehearse your answers. We’ll make these facts sound like iron at the hearing.” Her tone was full of quiet strength.

They turned off the lights, leaving a single lamp casting a warm pool. Snow on the street glittered like footnotes in the dark.

Tonight reality ruled. The strange dream-mystery paused while facts and testimony took the stage. Truth would be shaped by evidence and witness. Dreams could wait. For now, they gathered proof, patience, and courage. Su Wan and Lin Xi sat quietly, ready to face whatever came next.