Neue Brücke der Hilflosigkeit

Kapitel 17

Feng Qi had only skimmed through Xiao Ling's file, a statistical spreadsheet listing the names, ages, hometowns, backgrounds, and occupations of stroke patients. Suddenly, his gaze fell on a particular section. After quickly scanning it, he looked up in surprise and met Xiao Ling's eyes.

Xiao Ling smiled with satisfaction: "You've noticed it too, haven't you? Thirteen out of the seventeen people had spent a considerable amount of time in your hometown, Zhicheng. Moreover, the time these thirteen people spent in Zhicheng mainly overlapped between five and four years ago. All of them suffered from strokes that caused them to lose consciousness; they were either in a coma or had become vegetative."

"Are you saying these strokes aren't accidental?"

Xiao Ling shrugged: "I don't know either. I'm looking into it right now."

Feng Qi tapped his index finger absently on the folder, thoughtfully looking at the data in front of him. After a moment, he snapped the folder shut and handed it back to Xiao Ling: "Could you make a copy for me, please?"

Xiao Ling smiled and said, "Will I read the truth at some point in the future?"

"Maybe."

Chapter One: Return

Thunderstorm.

There were few pedestrians on the road, only cars speeding by.

Feng Qi jumped out of the taxi and opened a large black umbrella. Fei Xue and Xiao Hei quickly jumped onto him and grabbed his shoulders tightly. Looking at the city through the rain, Feng Qi let out a long sigh.

Upon returning to Zhicheng, even the director jokingly suggested setting up a reporter station there so he could be permanently based. Though said in jest, the depth of his connection to the city moved him deeply. He hadn't cancelled his lease on the apartment he'd been renting, as if he knew he would definitely return someday.

He ran from the street into his rented room, his clothes completely soaked. Feixue and Xiaohei were huddled together, shivering. He changed into slippers, turned on the light, looked around the room, paused for a moment, then burst into laughter. Because the windows were open, a strong wind carrying rain swept through, leaving the entire room a mess. Even a flood couldn't have been worse.

"What a warm welcome," Feng Qi said with a wry smile, placing the black box he was carrying on the bookshelf before rolling up his trousers and grabbing a basin to "help out." Fei Xue and Xiao Hei, unable to help, hid on the desk meowing incessantly.

By the time he finally finished packing, it was already 1 a.m.

Strangely, despite being physically exhausted, his mind was surprisingly excited and clear. So, he and his two cats lay close together on the bed watching TV. Because it was an old internet connection, and he hadn't paid his TV bill on time, his secondhand TV could only receive two channels: CCTV-1 and Zhicheng Cable TV.

The cable TV station in Zhicheng was playing a rebroadcast of an earlier program. A dancer who had returned from abroad with accolades, having won international awards at a young age, was about to hold a national dance drama tour in Zhicheng. When Feng Qi turned on the TV, the program was showing the dancer's resume. A native of Zhicheng, he had enjoyed a privileged upbringing. At the age of eight, he met a master dancer who came to select apprentices, and subsequently went abroad to study dance, recently gaining international recognition. Foreign media praised him as a genius dancer. His choice to kick off his national tour in his hometown of Zhicheng had truly excited the people of Zhicheng. Looking at the young and handsome face, and his radiant spirit, Feng Qi couldn't help but sigh, "It seems like all the luck in the world has been gathered on this young genius."

Early the next morning, Feng Qi went to various hospitals in Zhicheng to collect data. He needed to first determine whether the incident was indeed caused by Zhicheng. Data collection was difficult, as it wasn't a region he was familiar with. However, through Xiao Ling's connections, Feng Qi finally obtained the results he wanted: in the past three months, nearly 60 people had suffered strokes at Zhicheng's three largest hospitals.

Looking at the thick stack of documents in his hand, he felt a real headache coming on.

How can we rule out normal strokes and find out the relationships between those individuals?

Since the last hospital to be investigated was the Third Hospital, Feng Qi remembered that he hadn't yet greeted Grandpa Cao upon his return, so he went straight to the internal medicine building. Grandpa Cao's bad temper was well-known among the nurses, and Feng Qi quickly found out which room he lived in.

He walked down the corridor, his mind suddenly becoming agitated.

The idea of visiting Grandpa Cao came about suddenly; unexpectedly, he hadn't been discharged from the hospital yet and had instead been moved to the intensive care unit.

When he arrived at room 415, as the nurse had told him, he raised his hand to knock on the door, but then stopped.

Through the glass in the door, he saw that inside, Old Master Cao was lying on the bed receiving an IV drip. His face was even more sallow than the last time he saw him, and his cheekbones were completely sunken. His eyes were slightly closed, as if he were taking a nap.

He didn't know why he felt such a strong attachment to the old man. He constantly thought of him, and whenever he encountered a problem, the old man was the first person he thought of. He wasn't usually like that; he didn't like relying on others. When he first met the old man, he was even annoyed. What had changed him? And now, this old man was in the final stages of his life—should he really bother him with things he couldn't solve himself?

As I hesitated between leaving and staying, a kind voice sounded from behind.

"Little Feng? You're here, why aren't you going in?"

It turned out to be Grandpa Cao's wife, Granny Zhang, carrying a basin, seemingly having just returned from washing up.

Feng Qi smiled awkwardly: "I saw that the old man was sleeping."

"Sigh, he's just pretending to sleep. If he were to sleep now, it would be a miracle if he didn't have insomnia tonight," Grandma Zhang said as she pushed open the door and addressed Cao Xiangui, "Old man, Little Feng is here!"

Cao Xiangui slowly opened his eyes, sat up, lingered on Feng Qi for a few seconds, then closed his eyes again: "You're here?"

Feng Qi sat down on the stool that Granny Zhang handed him, placing his hand on Cao Xiangui's. The thin, almost bare hand brought a pang of sadness to Feng Qi's heart, and his voice choked with emotion: "Grandpa..."

"You're not dead yet, stop crying!" Cao Xiangui scolded softly, "Why aren't you working as a reporter in the provincial capital? What are you doing in Zhicheng?"

"I'll come back to do some investigation." Feng Qi hesitated, then continued, "Old man, your illness..."

"At worst, I'll just die. I've thought that through long ago. But you—"

In her excitement, Cao Xiangui coughed, causing Grandma Zhang to complain, "Why are you in such a hurry? Can't you speak slowly?"

Feng Qi had already supported Cao Xiangui when he coughed, gently patting the old man's back to help him catch his breath, while advising him, "Grandpa, don't rush."

Cao Xiangui angrily pushed him away: "You're all ganging up on me. Now that you have someone to back you up, you're getting more and more arrogant." He closed his eyes, rested for a long time before opening them again, and continued: "Feng Qi, you didn't come to see me last time. Were you afraid I would complain that you wrote about my junior in the news?"

When the old man pointed out his secret, Feng Qi blushed and quickly said, "No, that's not it..."

"Come on, stop with your petty thoughts." Cao Xiangui snorted. "Let me tell you, this old man isn't that narrow-minded. Even if it were my own son, if he really committed a crime and got arrested, I wouldn't be angry with you even if you wrote about it. It's just a matter of face. But you don't need to be so vicious when you write it. Song Zijin is your classmate, isn't he? Doesn't he have family? You've written him like a modern-day Chen Shimei..."

Feng Qi didn't think he had done anything wrong, but he didn't want to argue with the old man. He was listening to his lecture with his head down when the old man suddenly stopped and didn't say anything, which puzzled him. So he looked up at the old man. He saw the old man silently scrutinizing him. His gaze was complex, seemingly containing heartache, helplessness, anger at his lack of self-control, and above all, affection. Feng Qi had almost never seen such a look in this stern old man before, and he felt a tightness in his chest and froze.

"Alright, just do what you think is best. This is your life, live it well." The old man patted his shoulder with rare tenderness and sighed, "If you encounter anything difficult to solve, feel free to ask this old man. My health may not be good, but my mind is still sharp."

Feng Qi hesitated for a moment before telling Cao Xiangui the purpose of his trip to Zhicheng. After listening, the old man pondered for a moment and asked, "Do those people admitted to the hospital in the provincial capital have identities?"

“Well, I did a little research. They’re all men, aged roughly between 25 and 45. They come from all walks of life, but generally speaking, there are more urban white-collar workers, government officials, and wealthy people. Some are native to Zhicheng but were later transferred to other places, while others have lived in Zhicheng for a few years.” Feng Qi handed the compiled data to Cao Xiangui: “As for the people from Zhicheng, I have no idea. There are just too many of them.”

"Did you do a little investigation? Humph!" Cao Xiangui glanced at Feng Qi's information quickly, then handed it back to him, and then frowned and began to think.

"You're saying that their timeline in Zhicheng intersected between four and five years ago?"

“Yes,” Feng Qi said. “I looked up the Zhicheng Times from that period, but I didn’t find anything significant that happened during that time.”

“There are no major issues, but there are many minor ones; it just depends on whether you can notice them.” Cao Xiangui asked, “What about their families?”

Of the 13 people, 10 were married. Two were divorced, and one was unmarried.

Do you have children?

"All 13 people who got married are included."

"And the one who isn't married? How old is he?"

“35 years old,” Feng Qi said, looking at the file. “This person is quite special; he’s a university professor. He recently came out as gay and has organized many activities to advocate for the welfare of gay people.”

Cao Xiangui paused for a moment after hearing this, then asked, "Are all stroke victims male?"

Feng Qi nodded, then suddenly a thought struck him. He looked up at Cao Xiangui and asked, "Could it be like that?"

"What could it be?" Cao Xiangui asked in return. "Go and investigate those people."

"knew."

Feng Qi chatted with Cao Xiangui for a few more minutes before leaving the ward. Grandma Zhang followed him out. Feng Qi said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Grandma Zhang, my visit has kept the old man from getting a proper rest."

Grandma Zhang held Feng Qi's hand, smiling and shaking her head: "No, that's not true. The old man is cooped up in this ward all day long, he's bored. You come here, let him use his brain, it's good for him."

"Okay, Grandma Zhang, I'll come see Grandpa again in a few days. I'll be going now." Although Feng Qi cherished the warmth of the old woman's hand, he still pulled his hand away, waved to her, and hurriedly left with his folder.

...

Things are not easy.

In this country, in this city, homosexuality seems like a taboo. Most people turn pale at the mention of it, finding it utterly disgusting. Feng Qi himself holds a neutral stance towards homosexuality, neither opposing nor supporting it. He believes it's a matter of privacy, and as long as it doesn't bother others, there's no reason to interfere.

He knew that the university professor had been a visiting professor at Zhicheng Normal University during his time in Zhicheng. Come to think of it, the professor had just left Zhicheng when he enrolled, so he had never met him.

The person Feng Qi found was He Zhiyuan, a reporter from the Zhicheng Times.

He Zhiyuan could be considered the chief reporter of the *Zhicheng Times*, a type of journalist quite different from Wang Qingyun and even Feng Qi. Even after so many years as a reporter, he maintained his passion for the profession, his enthusiasm for exposing the dark side of society, and his unwavering compassion for the underprivileged. However, he was also adept at self-preservation, thus managing to uphold his conscience while avoiding trouble for his exposés. Feng Qi became a reporter partly because of a lecture He Zhiyuan gave at a school.

He Zhiyuan has been paying close attention to various special groups in Zhicheng for many years. Homosexuals are one of them.

He Zhiyuan was quite surprised to receive Feng Qi's call. This young man was ambitious, as evidenced by the numerous high-profile articles he had published over the past year. Their relationship wasn't particularly close when Feng Qi was at the newspaper. He wondered what Feng Qi wanted to discuss this time.

The two met at a coffee shop on Binjiang Road.

When He Zhiyuan arrived, Feng Qi had already been waiting there for a long time.

They shook hands and greeted each other.

Feng Qi, referring to his prepared remarks, said to He Zhiyuan, "Professor He, I'm really sorry to trouble you this time. The task assigned from above is for me to write an interview with Professor Liu. It was going quite smoothly until recently when he suffered a stroke, which prevented me from continuing some of the interviews that needed to be supplemented. But the higher-ups still insist that I complete the article. I was thinking that since I can't interview him in person, I might as well try to interview him indirectly. I know you have a good relationship with him; could you introduce me to a few people who know him and tell me about him?"

"Which Professor Liu?"

Professor Liu Zhuxu

He Zhiyuan frowned as he stared at the composed Feng Qi.

"You...you said he had a stroke?"

Feng Qi nodded, and He Zhiyuan asked, "When did this happen?"

Two months ago

He Zhiyuan fell silent and took a deep drag on his cigarette. He remained silent, and so did Feng Qi, who simply looked at He Zhiyuan expectantly.

“He has nothing to write about.” After a long silence, He Zhiyuan said slowly.

"He is a well-known figure in the provincial capital who advocates for the rights of homosexuals."

He Zhiyuan's gaze suddenly sharpened as he looked at Feng Qi. He said bluntly, "Feng Qi, I don't believe you would travel all the way from the provincial capital to Zhicheng to interview a university professor who has already suffered a stroke. Whatever your purpose, remember that everyone has their own privacy."

Feng Qi was taken aback by He Zhiyuan's sudden accusation. After a moment of surprise, he smiled frankly and said, "Professor He, you're overcomplicating things. I was just interviewing Professor Liu. I've always admired Professor Liu's open-mindedness and genuine personality. Since the director assigned me this task, I naturally wanted to do my best. Didn't you once say that even a conference paper or an interview can be done well as long as the perspective is right?"

He Zhiyuan pondered for a moment, stubbed out his cigarette, and wrote an address on a notepad: "I'm not very familiar with Professor Liu either. During the six months he was in Zhicheng, we only met four or five times in total. You can go to the school where he used to teach and ask. Oh, aren't you a graduate of Zhicheng Normal University? Take this address. You might run into someone who knows him there."

Handing the note to Feng Qi, He Zhiyuan solemnly instructed, "I can only help you this far; the rest is up to you. Their circle is very wary of reporters. It took them so many years to finally accept me and be willing to confide their troubles and feelings to me. I can't easily betray them."

Feng Qi continued, "It wasn't about betraying..."

"No matter what adjective you use, I'll still say this. Unless they're willing, I won't give you their information and contact address. This address is the only G-bar in Zhicheng; the rest is up to you." After saying that, He Zhiyuan looked at Feng Qi meaningfully: "To gain so much fame and fortune so early in your career, is it a good thing or a bad thing? Is it well-deserved or just pure luck? Feng Qi, I'm very curious to know how far you can go."

Chapter Two: The Maya

Maya.

Feng Qi stood outside a bar with unpretentious decor, confirmed the address was correct, and then pushed open the door to go inside.

It wasn't as smoky and chaotic as he'd imagined, nor was there any loud music. If it weren't for the fact that most of the patrons were men behaving flirtatiously with each other, this bar would have been an ordinary one. He found a corner seat at the bar and ordered a beer. Having lived in Zhicheng for so long, he had no idea such a bar existed.

The bartender, with his dyed white hair, handed him a beer and asked with a smile, "Are you new here? First time at Maya?"

Feng Qi sized up the bartender who had spoken to him. He had a very handsome face, deep eyes, thick eyelashes, and well-proportioned lips. His face looked especially gentle when he smiled. Even Feng Qi, who was of the same sex, couldn't help but admire his beauty.

"Yes, this is my first time here. A friend recommended it."

The bartender chuckled, pulled a business card from under the bar, and shoved it in front of Feng Qi: "Welcome. You've come to the right place today; there's a very exciting performance coming up later." He then winked at Feng Qi.

Feng Qi coughed awkwardly, turning his face towards the dance floor to avoid looking into the bartender's constantly flirtatious eyes. He tried his best not to let his gaze reveal curiosity or inquiry, circling the dance floor before turning back to chat with the bartender.

"Have you been here long?"

The bartender didn't answer his question, but instead asked, "Did you come alone?"

Feng Qi nodded, about to ask another question, when he heard the bartender's malicious laugh.