DSMIS CH21

Chapter 21: Hero, is this medicine yours?

Shen Xing sent a message to Jiang Lin while changing his clothes:

“Hero, have you eaten dinner yet? Do you want me to bring something back for you?”

After waiting a while without a reply—which was unusual since Jiang Lin usually replied very quickly during the day—Shen Xing figured he might have fallen asleep.

Shen Xing left the hospital. Instead of eating at the public security canteen across the street, he found a well-reviewed porridge shop online. He ordered porridge, two refreshing side dishes, and two servings of red bean buns. Passing by a supermarket, he paused, went inside to buy one item, and then drove home.

Knock, knock, knock.

He knocked on Jiang Lin’s door, but there was no answer for a long time.

He knocked a bit harder and pressed his ear against the door to listen. He heard a dog barking—a cowardly, whining aowuu sound that sounded exactly like his dog, Qianjin.

Inside the bedroom, the curtains were half-closed. Jiang Lin was sleeping on his side, his forehead covered in sweat. One hand clutched the blanket while the other hung off the edge of the bed. Right next to his hand lay the large white furball, as if Jiang Lin had been comforting the cowardly Samoyed right before falling asleep.

At the sound of the knocking, Black Panther entered the bedroom from the balcony. Qianjin’s ears twitched, and he subconsciously nudged the person on the bed.

Black Panther barked twice, and the large white furball followed with two trembling barks. Jiang Lin frowned slightly and woke up. He was a bit groggy from sleep, not even knowing what time it was, until the knocking sounded again.

Just as Shen Xing took out his phone to make a call, the door finally opened.

Jiang Lin was wearing pajamas, his hair sticking up in places. His expression was hazy, and there were two sleep creases on his face. Seeing the person at the door, he still seemed a bit dazed. His voice was hoarse:

“Dr. Shen?”

Even though they had slept in the same room twice now, this was Shen Xing’s first time seeing Jiang Lin so bleary-eyed:

“I figured you might be sleeping, so I bought dinner and brought you a portion.”

He didn’t want to disturb Jiang Lin’s rest. Just as he was about to hand over the food and take Qianjin home, Jiang Lin took a step back to clear the doorway, seemingly sobering up a bit:

“Come in, let’s eat together.”

“Sure.”

Shen Xing entered and noticed several pairs of disposable slippers by the door. He grabbed a pair and put them on:

“How are you feeling? Do you still have a fever?”

Jiang Lin stood in place without saying a word, as if waiting for something. Sure enough, the next moment, Shen Xing’s hand reached out to feel his forehead:

“You’re sweating; the fever should have broken. Come, come, sit down. I bought porridge and side dishes. Eat first. I have something delicious for you afterward, I guarantee you’ll be completely cured once you eat it.”

Jiang Lin blinked and glanced toward the other bag Shen Xing had brought. Shen Xing quickly hid the bag under his jacket:

“You can’t look now. You can only eat it after dinner.”

“Oh.”

Just as Shen Xing opened the takeout bag, a large white furball lunged at him. He rubbed his dog’s head:

“Were you a good boy at uncle’s house?”

Qianjin buried his head between Shen Xing’s legs, whining with the utmost grievance. Shen Xing quickly pulled the dog’s head out, looking at Jiang Lin somewhat awkwardly.

Jiang Lin lowered his head to hide the amusement in his eyes:

“He’s a little scared of Black Panther. He’ll feel better after eating a small can of dog food.”

“This greedy dog just wanted to trick you out of canned food.”

Shen Xing looked at Black Panther lying in the distance, recalling Jiang Lin mentioning that morning that Black Panther had his spleen removed. Jiang Lin must have taken extremely good care of Black Panther afterward; the dog’s coat was smooth and glossy, and the surgical scar on his belly was completely invisible now.

“There’s ginger chicken porridge and mushroom chicken porridge, which one do you want?”

Jiang Lin sat at the table and yawned:

“You pick. I’m fine with either.”

Shen Xing pushed the ginger chicken porridge in front of him:

“Then have the ginger one. It’ll help you sweat it out and recover faster.”

Jiang Lin nodded, picked up the bowl, and started eating. His eyes occasionally drifted toward the bag covered by Shen Xing’s jacket. Shen Xing caught this little action and found it amusing; this man seemed to have suddenly become a bit childish while sick.

“Finished.”

Jiang Lin showed the empty bowl to Shen Xing, his intention obvious: Hurry up and bring out that delicious after-dinner treat.

Shen Xing smiled and brought out the item hidden under his jacket. Jiang Lin immediately looked over:

“Canned fruit?”

“Canned yellow peaches. If you eat canned yellow peaches, all illnesses will run away. Whenever I got sick as a kid, my mom would buy this for me.”

Shen Xing tried to twist it open, but it didn’t budge. He exerted more force, but it still wouldn’t open:

“Hey, it’s screwed on tight.”

Jiang Lin reached out:

“Give it to me.”

“No need, do you have a knife? Prying it a bit will do the trick.”

Right after saying that, before Jiang Lin could answer, Shen Xing spotted a small fruit knife on the coffee table. He immediately walked over and pried the lid with the tip of the knife. The lid hissed as it released the seal. As he placed the knife back on the table, he suddenly noticed a small medicine bottle next to it. He couldn’t be more familiar with this medication—Gabapentin?

Jiang Lin’s gaze tightened when he saw what Shen Xing was looking at. He had finished the pills in his pillbox, and after taking one from the bottle that afternoon, he had forgotten to put it back in the drawer.

Shen Xing suddenly remembered that the first time they met, Jiang Lin seemed to have taken some medicine as well. He abruptly looked up:

“Hero, is this medicine yours?”

Jiang Lin’s expression faltered slightly. As a doctor who dealt with all kinds of patients year-round, Shen Xing understood Jiang Lin’s current expression perfectly. It was obvious he didn’t want to tell the truth and was looking for an excuse:

“Don’t tell me this is for Black Panther.”

The excuse Jiang Lin had just formulated in his mind was immediately blocked by Dr. Shen:

“Migraines. I was prescribed this before. It flared up today, so I took a pill. I feel much better now after sleeping.”

Migraines? Gabapentin is used to treat neuropathic pain, and it could indeed be used for migraines. Shen Xing’s intuition told him something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.

Jiang Lin took the canned peaches from his hand and started eating silently, repeatedly praising how delicious it was. Shen Xing… why did he get the feeling the man in front of him was feeling a bit guilty?

Qianjin, who had just gotten familiar with Jiang Lin, ran over from Shen Xing’s side. He placed his two front paws on Jiang Lin’s leg, rubbed his furry ears against the back of Jiang Lin’s hand, and stuck his tongue out at the canned fruit, drooling with greed. Shen Xing felt embarrassed by him:

“Qianjin, come back.”

The Samoyed refused, his dark eyes fixed solely on the yellow peaches as he continued to nudge Jiang Lin’s hand ingratiatingly.

Jiang Lin looked down, and the man and dog locked eyes for a moment. He picked up a piece with a disposable chopstick and fed it to him. Just as the piece of peach entered his mouth, Black Panther came out from the other room. The cowardly Samoyed hastily swallowed the peach, tucked his tail, and shrank back to Shen Xing’s side. Shen Xing laughed at his cowardice and slapped his rump:

“You big coward, why are you so useless? I called you just now and you wouldn’t come back.”

“Hero, I’m taking him back now. If your head hurts, go to sleep early. It’s best not to take medicine if you don’t have to.”

Jiang Lin walked him to the door and stuffed a few small cans of dog food into his hands:

“I noticed Qianjin really likes these. Take them back for him to eat.”

“This big fat dog is already 65 jin.”

“One or two meals won’t make a difference.”

Shen Xing… how many people trying to lose weight have fallen to this exact phrase? He was even thankful right now that Qianjin was the one who needed to diet and not him. Otherwise, with a neighbor like Jiang Lin, he’d be kissing his weight-loss goals goodbye.

Shen Xing took the white furball back home and let him get familiar with his newly prepared large dog bed before going to take a shower.

From last night until now, he had actually only slept for two hours. Even though he had changed into his pajamas and gotten into bed, he still wasn’t sleepy. He simply took out his laptop, leaned against the headboard, and opened Liu Xiaohu’s medical records.

This medical record started seven months ago. The initial diagnosis was at the Armed Police General Hospital. Upon admission, he had multiple fractures and internal contusions. The most severe issue was cranial trauma, and the traumatic brain injury was what ultimately led to his vegetative state. He spent four months in the Armed Police General Hospital and was transferred to the county hospital in the fifth month, meaning he had been at the county hospital for about three months.

That night, he looked up a massive amount of medical literature. Patients in a vegetative state caused by traumatic brain injury have a higher chance of waking up compared to those caused by hypoxia, stroke, or cerebral hemorrhage. Generally, within three months, the awakening rate reaches 35%-45%, and within six months, it can reach 50%-60%. However, 12 months—one year—is a dividing line. Once past this threshold, the probability of waking up drops precipitously.

It had already been seven months.

He checked the time and called a senior from his university days who was now working in the neurosurgery department at the Capital Hospital. After chatting for a bit, the voice on the other end said:

“Send his medical records over for me to take a look.”

Shen Xing quickly forwarded the medical records:

“Senior, this patient has been in a coma for seven months. He underwent HBO (Hyperbaric Oxygen therapy) in the first three months, and is currently using Amantadine to promote awakening. He showed a brief recovery of consciousness at the three-month mark, but it was just that one time. Subsequent treatments haven’t shown any obvious effects. If we want to take a more aggressive treatment approach for his condition, is there any other way?”

Shen Xing asked very directly. Liu Xiaohu was injured in the line of duty, so the Armed Police General Hospital must have exhausted all currently available methods. The man had been in a coma for seven months now, leaving less and less time for him to wake up. If they wanted to fight for a sliver of hope now, conventional methods wouldn’t cut it. The Capital Hospital was the most authoritative hospital in the country for neurosurgery. For patients like this, they should have some treatment methods and medications that were not yet clinically approved for general use.

Xu Huai understood what he meant:

“Is this person a relative of yours?”

“No, he’s a friend of mine.”

After saying that, Shen Xing added another sentence:

“He’s very important.”

“Alright, I’ll study his medical records, do an assessment, and give you an answer in three days at the latest.”

“Great, thank you so much, senior. I’ll treat you to a meal when I get back.”

Early the next morning, Shen Xing did his ward rounds. Cao Shulan’s condition was stable, and she could be transferred out of the intensive care unit.

Just as he stepped out of the ICU, a flurry of hurried footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. He looked over and saw Director Yu leading the way, followed by a squad of police officers. Looking at them, their ranks didn’t seem low. There were also a few people not in police uniform, likely government officials.

At a glance, he spotted Jiang Lin, who stood out exceptionally among the crowd. He was wearing his police uniform today, his posture tall and straight. His composed and restrained aura made him seem like a completely different person from the childish guy who hurriedly gulped down his porridge last night in anticipation of a tasty treat. His epaulets gleamed brilliantly under the corridor lights. Upon closer inspection, his epaulets were only one star lower than the police chief leading the group at the very front.

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Author’s Note:

Officer Jiang lies without batting an eye [Starry Eyes]