Trembling in the Skies

Chapter 50: Replantation of Amputated Limbs

The helicopter flight was a long one. Based on Li Teng’s previous experience, it would take at least three hours. On the previous two occasions, he’d boarded the helicopter, eaten some bread and cookies, and had a drink; then, as long as he got a good night’s sleep, he’d wake up at the film studio. But not this time. He didn’t dare fall asleep; he was afraid that if he did, he’d be treated like a corpse when he got off the helicopter. He slowly endured the pain in his body and gradually gathered his strength. When Li Teng tried again, he finally managed to pry open the lid of the box and reached inside with one hand! His hand touched the bread inside, but he didn’t have enough strength to pull it out. He had no choice but to gather his strength once more. During this process, his mind drifted in and out of consciousness several times. But his intense inner will to survive snapped him back to reality time and again, preventing him from simply drifting off into a deep sleep. The only way he could keep himself awake now was to urinate from time to time. The cloth strip sealed the opening, and this effort tugged at the wound, causing excruciating pain—pain that kept him briefly awake. It was truly no different from being tortured. At one point, just as Li Teng was trying to urinate again, he felt the cloth tied around his wound suddenly snap open, and a warm stream gushed out. He didn’t know if it was urine or blood. The pressure in his bladder subsided considerably, leaving only the internal pain caused by prolonged retention. Had the wound reopened? Was he bleeding? Could he bleed to death? Li Teng was terrified, but he couldn’t even sit up to check his wound right now. It was pitch black inside the cabin, so he couldn’t see anything anyway. After gathering his strength for a long time, Li Teng finally managed to pull the bread out of the box. But as soon as he pulled it out, his arm went limp again, and he couldn’t even bring the bread to his mouth. A few minutes later, fueled by a powerful will to survive, Li Teng finally managed to bring the bread to his mouth. He couldn’t remove the outer wrapper, but he didn’t care anymore—he simply shoved the wrapper and the bread into his mouth together. Then he began to eat it, wrapper and all. Due to sepsis and extreme physical weakness, his stomach had absolutely no appetite. As he forced the bread down, his stomach even went into spasms, trying to vomit the food back up. Li Teng fought off the nausea and queasiness, persevering as he continued to swallow the bread. Whether it was a placebo effect or whether the food and drinks in the box actually had healing properties, after eating a few bites of bread mixed with the wrapper, Li Teng finally regained some strength, and his body was no longer completely unresponsive as it had been before. He also had enough strength to reach into the tattered bag and pull out the remaining bread, which he swallowed on its own. After finishing the bread and resting for a while, he reached into the box again and took out some cookies to eat. Then he drank some of the beverage. He didn’t know if the wound was still bleeding. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel that the area was damp and sticky. After eating the bread and cookies and drinking the beverage, a wave of intense drowsiness washed over him. But Li Teng didn’t dare to sleep. He was still worried that if he fell asleep, he might not wake up. He kept forcing himself to stay awake. The roughly three-hour flight was sheer torture for him. His mind was filled with a fear of death; he worried that he might fail at the very last moment—that he wouldn’t manage to stay awake until the plane reached the film studio, and that they would treat him as a corpse and preserve him in wax. The long journey finally came to an end. Li Teng’s hunch was correct: the helicopter didn’t land at the helipad by the sea this time. Instead, it was an unfamiliar place. As he stepped off the helicopter, two staff members were waiting there, pushing a wheeled stretcher—or perhaps a body stretcher. “I’m not dead—I’m still alive.” After the two staff members lifted Li Teng onto the stretcher, he hurriedly reminded them. The two staff members said nothing but simply wheeled Li Teng into the building next door. Looking at the various signs in his surroundings, Li Teng could confirm that this must be the hospital at the film studio. He had never been to a place like this before; even when injured on set, an ambulance would transport the medical pod to the scene to treat them immediately. He had no idea what the hospital at the film studio was like. Li Teng reminded himself not to forget that important matter: while receiving treatment, he had to make sure to place that part of him into the medical pod as well. Two staff members wheeled Li Teng into the hospital and into one of the examination rooms. A doctor wearing a white coat and a mask walked over and conducted a visual examination of Li Teng’s injuries. “He’s not dead yet, but his injuries are very severe,” the doctor said. “Please put me in the medical pod,” Li Teng requested of the doctor. Li Teng was deeply moved to have made it here alive. The medical technology at the film studio was extremely advanced; no matter how severe the injuries—even if someone had already passed away—placing them in a medical pod could bring them back to life. All the pain in his body would vanish in that instant, freeing him from the torment of suffering. “Since you didn’t sustain this injury on set, it’s not covered by the film studio’s medical insurance. You’ll need to pay with credits to receive treatment,” the doctor told Li Teng, refusing his request. “……” Li Teng’s heart sank instantly. But he found himself unable to refute what the doctor had said. “You forced me up to the top of that stone pillar. Even up there, I was still working for you—why isn’t this considered a work-related injury?” Li Teng thought for a moment before voicing his protest. “Would an injury sustained while lying in your own bed count as a work-related injury? Don’t give me that—it’s pointless.” The doctor turned to walk away. “Wait a minute! I don’t have many points in my account. Could you use your discretion and treat this wound with 10 points first?” Li Teng pointed at himself. “This kind of injury? Wow! It’s that serious? The tissue at the front is almost necrotic—it’s practically like a reattachment of an amputated limb. It’ll take at least two hundred points.” After examining him, the doctor gave Li Teng an estimate. “I’m a newcomer, and I sustained this severe injury just so I could make it back alive to film. Surely the film studio should show some consideration for newcomers?” Li Teng was filled with grief and indignation; his excitement at having survived plummeted to rock bottom in an instant. No payment, no treatment—this hospital is way too cold-hearted. A human life is worth only 1,000 credits, and I’m just getting a minor injury treated—yet they’re charging me 200 credits. Rip-off! Total rip-off! “Newcomers… I think there’s a policy for newcomers to get medical treatment through installment loans. Let me check.” The doctor walked over to the terminal by the wall, ran a search, then printed out a form and brought it back to Li Teng. “Please sign this form.” Li Teng reached out with a trembling hand to take the paper. It was an application form for an advance payment with installment repayment for treatment. Only by filling out this form could he borrow the credits needed for treatment. The repayment term listed on it was one year, and 50 percent of the proceeds from each of Li Teng’s performances would be deducted until the principal and interest were fully repaid. The annual interest rate was 5 percentage points, which wasn’t too outrageous. However, this also meant that once Li Teng agreed to take out the loan for treatment, he would receive only five credits per scene—instead of the usual ten—with the remaining five credits going toward repaying the medical loan. Any outstanding balance not repaid within one year will be forcibly deducted from his credit account. If the balance in his credit account is insufficient… It’s simple: according to the film studio’s old rule, he’ll be “sealed in wax.” “How many points will it take to treat all my injuries at once?” Li Teng asked the doctor again. “With your injuries… it’ll probably take about three or four hundred points,” the doctor replied. “Then how should I fill in the total loan amount on the application?” Li Teng continued to ask. “We won’t know the exact extent of your injuries until you’re in the medical pod. You don’t need to fill in the total loan amount—just sign below. I’ll fill in the actual cost for you later,” the doctor replied to Li Teng. Li Teng really wanted to question this… No upfront pricing, then quoting a price once you’re on the operating table—this is exactly the kind of tactic used by the Pu X-style hospitals! But he didn’t dare to question it. Once inside the hospital, his life was in the doctor’s hands—questioning the doctor would be tantamount to wanting to die. “Are you going to sign or not?” the doctor urged Li Teng. “I’ll sign,” Li Teng had no other choice.