Chapter 18: The Strange Woman

The woman suddenly doubled over, her hands gripping the railing tightly. Her body shook uncontrollably, as if she were dry-heaving.

The people around her quickly stepped aside, clearing a large space for her. Fu Yuan was jostled by the panicked crowd.

An elderly woman sitting in the priority seat groped through her bag, pulled out a long red plastic bag, and signaled for a student nearby to pass it over.

A pickpocket, who had been preparing to strike, looked on in shock, seemingly caught off guard that the woman had started "staging an accident" before he could even make a move. He raised his hands high and shouted at Fu Yuan, "You saw it! I didn't touch her; she just turned like this on her own! It has nothing to do with me!"

With that, he hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd and bolted out the rear door of the bus, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The driver, seeing the commotion in the rearview mirror, craned his neck to look back and asked, "What's wrong? What happened?"

The woman dry-heaved into the plastic bag. After a few moments, a wet, splattering sound followed, and the acrid, sour stench of gastric digestive juices quickly permeated the carriage.

From a different angle, Fu Yuan finally caught a clear look at the woman's face. She was pale, her lips dry and cracked from dehydration. Up close, she didn't look as radiant as she had from behind; her eye sockets were slightly sunken, and even with makeup, her skin appeared dull and lackluster.

"Is there a doctor here? Or maybe a medical student?" someone in the bus shouted anxiously.

The driver, seeing the woman's state, stopped the bus and asked tentatively, "Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance for you to wait here for help?"

The woman couldn't speak; she retched a few more times, her body limp and sagging against the handrail.

"Or can you hold on a bit longer? The next stop is the Central Hospital," the driver pressed when she remained silent.

The woman gave a weak nod.

Fu Yuan stepped forward to check on her and saw two trails of blood beneath the woman's nose. Underneath her high collar, faint bruises were vaguely visible—a rather alarming sight.

"Are you feeling any better?" Fu Yuan felt in her pocket, then crouched down to hand her a small, unopened pack of tissues, the kind that cost a dollar at a convenience store.

The woman took the tissues, tore open the package, pulled one out, and wiped her mouth and nose frantically. She gave Fu Yuan a weak smile. "Much better... thank you so much."

"It was nothing," Fu Yuan replied, shaking her head. She then asked softly, "How did this happen so suddenly?"

***

Fu Yuan noticed that the woman seemed to be wearing too many layers; although it was cold, it wasn't cold enough to warrant both a sweater and a heavy coat.

For some reason, she was reminded of the man who had walked down the stairs behind her when she left the hotel; he, too, had been dressed very heavily.

The woman didn't answer immediately. She looked at Fu Yuan, whose attire was simple but neat and clean. She hesitated for a moment before tucking the half-used pack of tissues into her own bag.

"I don't know why, but I started running a fever yesterday, and I haven't been feeling well all morning," the woman said, her voice still weak as she seemed to recover slightly. "I only had a few crackers at noon, and I've felt like vomiting ever since. I thought I'd go to the hospital to get it checked out..."

Fu Yuan's eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar blue gift box inside the woman's bag—the same style she had received when she left the hotel—and continued to ask, "Did you rest at the Playtime Seaside Hotel at noon?"

The woman looked surprised and said with a bitter smile, "Have you seen me before?"

Fu Yuan nodded and asked, "What about your daughter? About three or four years old, this tall?" She gestured in the air.

"Cough... her older brother is looking after her, cough-cough." The woman coughed a few times, as if she were trying to cough up her own lungs. Fu Yuan quickly told her to stop talking.

*Her older brother?*

Fu Yuan was surprised; there was another person involved. She had assumed it was a family of three on vacation, but apparently not. By the sound of it, the older brother couldn't be very young—he had to be at least an adult. And there were more than two children who had died.

Fu Yuan studied the woman carefully. She looked haggard now, but her bone structure was beautiful; she was clearly a beauty in her own right. She wasn't old, perhaps twenty-five, and she seemed to be a meticulous person—not someone who came from a wealthy, powerful background.

...

The Central Hospital station arrived.

Fu Yuan followed the woman off the bus. "I'll accompany you; I don't have anything else to do," she explained softly, stepping forward to support her.

Fu Yuan reached her right arm under the woman's armpit, exerting a little strength to pull the woman's limp body toward her side, while her left hand wrapped around the woman's lower back, her palm pressing against her spine.

***

As they made physical contact, Fu Yuan could feel that the woman's body temperature was slightly elevated; her fever had likely not broken.

Since the woman didn't refuse, Fu Yuan took it as consent and walked along with her. "I was eating at the Playtime Seaside Restaurant at noon and heard you tell the police that your... husband couldn't have committed suicide. Could you tell me why?"

The woman's expression turned sour, though not necessarily with grief. She was doing better than she had been on the bus, but she was still very weak. Her voice carried a hint of disdain. "Heh... he was a man of loose morals; how could he possibly commit suicide?"

Fu Yuan had already anticipated this and wasn't surprised.

Perhaps because she felt a sense of affinity with Fu Yuan, the woman continued, "He told me he was going to get breakfast..."

Here, the woman paused, as if reminiscing or perhaps feeling helpless. "I knew he wasn't honest, but I wasn't feeling well, so I didn't keep track of him. Who would have thought that the next time I saw him, we would be separated by death... cough, cough..."

By the end, she couldn't stop coughing again.

Fu Yuan supported her, waiting quietly by her side. She didn't like to help someone catch their breath while they were coughing or say things like "Don't rush, take it slow." To her, that felt like silently urging the patient: *Hurry up and get better.*

After about half a minute of coughing, the woman moved the tissue away. Fu Yuan saw the specks of blood on it.

"How long has this... illness been going on?" Fu Yuan asked in a low voice.

The woman saw the bloodstains and froze, looking slightly surprised herself.

She shook her head, her face pale. "I've always been very healthy. I had a check-up a week ago and everything was fine. After I returned to the hotel yesterday, I started running a fever for no reason and lost my appetite... cough, cough... I couldn't stand it anymore today, so I decided to come to the hospital. Who knew I wouldn't even be able to catch a taxi..."

They walked and talked. As they continued, the woman's voice grew weaker and weaker, until it was barely audible.

Fu Yuan felt the body leaning on her grow heavier. Ahead, not far away, was the hospital.

She turned her head to look and saw that the woman had lolled her head to the side, her eyes closed, her entire body collapsing against her.

Fu Yuan quickly laid the woman gently on the ground, then sprinted toward the hospital entrance, screaming at the top of her lungs as she ran:

"Doctor! Doctor—"