The man behind the scenes: My entry is so evil that it's crazy

It turns out that people can’t shed tears when they are in the most pain and despair.

Wang Cong is in this state now.

He walked out of the coldness of the morgue, like a walking corpse without a soul, mechanically moving his steps and came to the ward.

His eyes were empty and woodenly fell on the bed where his father, who had no breath left, lay.

The latter’s body was cold and stiff, and his exposed skin was covered with corpse spots, but there was no smell of decay because the hospital wrapped him in a layer of transparent plastic wrap.

After all, there were other patients in the room, and the hospital was afraid that they couldn’t stand his "body odor".

Wang Cong looked down and saw that there was still a catheter in his father’s nose. The ventilator connected to the catheter was still working non-stop, and the total amount of ventilation was recorded on the screen.

Like the meter in a taxi, it was jumping up every second.

And the most bizarre thing was that the ventilation frequency of this ventilator was obviously several times that of other beds.

The reason is very scientific, because other patients are still alive, they mainly breathe independently, and the ventilator is only an auxiliary. Every time they breathe, their lungs cannot be fully expanded, and they are shallow breaths.

The dead body breathes passively throughout the whole process, and the ventilator is the main force. Every breath ensures that the lungs can expand and contract to the maximum extent. This deep breathing is even the ideal state that some advanced warriors dream of.

The heart rate monitor next to the ventilator is also silently performing its duties, and the screen shows a straight line without any fluctuations.

The good news is that since this straight line lacks any fluctuation frequency, the billing system does not charge by the number of times, but by the hour, and the cost is much cheaper than the ventilator.

The nurse next to him is still asking diligently: "Mr. Wang Cong, should we remove the tube for your father now?"

Wang Cong no longer has the strength to be angry, and his heart seems to be emptied.

He mechanically reached out and pulled off the tube on his father's body, letting it fall to the ground with a crisp sound.

The nurse recorded the time of extubation and entered the value of the pause on the ventilator into the tablet.

The nurse calmly recorded the time of extubation and entered the value of the pause on the ventilator into the tablet.

She turned the tablet and turned the screen towards Wang Cong. She gently slid her finger across the screen and showed him the bill: "So far, the total cost of your father's hospitalization is as follows..."

She paused and continued: "After deducting all expenses, the account balance is 13,114 yuan. If you have no objection, please sign here to confirm."

Wang Cong did not notice that in the last column of the bill, a new item for catheter loss had just been filled in.

Wang Cong ignored the nurse's voice, but slowly bent down and held the body tightly wrapped in plastic wrap in his arms. However, his steps suddenly froze when he turned around.

The money in his bank card and the merit points in his citizen account were not enough to buy or exchange a cemetery, so his best way was to cremate the body and box it.

The female nurse was used to this kind of scene, and she was very considerate and asked, "Do you need the hospital to call a special car for you from the incinerator?"

Wang Cong had no tears, and he forgot the pain. He just felt it was very ridiculous.

The hospital's dedication was ridiculous, his parents' selflessness was ridiculous, the world's absurdity was ridiculous, and his own despair was ridiculous.

Wang Cong said hoarsely, "Go to the incinerator where my mother was taken away."

The female nurse replied calmly, "I understand. The cost of contacting the incinerator's special car will be deducted from the balance of your father's account."

As she spoke, she handed the tablet to Wang Cong. He took the electronic pen and mechanically signed his name on the screen.

The special car of the incinerator was already fully booked, and it would take three hours to come.

Wang Cong sat on a bench in the hospital corridor, holding his father's body woodenly. Because when he signed, the discharge procedures had been completed, and the empty bed had already welcomed a new patient.

Fortunately, the benches in the corridor were free, and Wang Cong could wait patiently here.

Wang Cong leaned back weakly, his head against the cold wall, his eyes empty, staring at the spotless white ceiling.

The corners of his mouth twitched from time to time, and he let out a laugh that was more unpleasant than crying.

Parents are dead.

The house is gone.

The hope of climbing up is gone.

Wang Cong's eyes were completely dark, and this time, there was really no light at all. Not only did he not break free from the quagmire, but he seemed to fall into a more desperate abyss.

At this moment, Wang Cong's heart was filled with coldness, a kind of coldness that was more biting than the corpse in his arms.

The clock in the corridor was still ticking slowly, as if silently telling the passage of time, and Wang Cong, in this ruthless beat, quietly waited, waiting for the next answer given to him by fate.

A corpse moving vehicle from an incinerator slowly stopped at the entrance of the hospital.

The car door opened, and a man in a flowery green coat took two deep puffs of a cigarette, then threw the cigarette butt hard on the ground, stamped it out with his toes, and walked quickly into the hospital.

Before he approached, the strange smell of corpses burned all year round drifted into the corridor

Before he approached, the strange smell of corpses burned all year round drifted into the corridor.

Wang Jian found Wang Cong directly in the corridor and said lightly: "You called the car, right?"

Wang Cong slowly came back to his senses, nodded stiffly, stood up, hugged his father's body tightly, and followed Wang Jian mechanically.

Wang Jian helped him lift the body into the car and fixed it, then slowly started the car, and suddenly said to Wang Cong who was sitting in the passenger seat without saying a word: "You are Wang Cong, right?"

Wang Cong didn't want to talk, his eyes were dull.

Wang Jian smiled and said: "I also came to pull the body in the afternoon. Her name is Liu Xiujuan. She is your mother, right?"

A trace of fluctuation flashed in Wang Cong's eyes, and his voice was low and trembling: "My mother's body is now...?"

Wang Jian drove attentively and answered calmly:

"Usually, the hospital notifies that the unclaimed body will be cremated after we pull it back, and the ashes will be flushed into the sewer in most cases."

Wang Cong's head was lowered, his teeth were clenched, as if an invisible hand was tightly holding his heart, and the severe pain made him almost unable to breathe.

He wanted to blame the hospital and the incinerator, but the person he should blame the most was...himself!

Wang Jian continued: "But your mother's ashes were not flushed away, but put in a box, because Feng Mu called me."

Wang Cong's body suddenly paused, and his head suddenly raised: "Who are you talking about?"

Wang Jian was a little confused by Wang Cong's intense reaction, and he explained:

"Feng Mu, he told me that you are his current colleague and friend, and said that you don't have time to go to the hospital today, and specifically told me to properly arrange your mother's ashes. Strange, didn't Feng Mu mention this to you?"

Wang Jian took out his mobile phone from his pocket while speaking, and handed the call record displayed on the screen to Wang Cong.

Wang Cong's eyes were like being nailed, staring at the call time marked as "Feng Mu" on the mobile phone screen.

That time point was deeply engraved in his memory. It was when he reported the progress to the warden, and it was also the moment when Feng Mu led a group of prisoners into the incineration room.

If there hadn't been an accident that he didn't understand, then this phone call should have been Feng Mu's last words in this world? ! !

Wang Jian suddenly stepped on the brakes and the car stopped.

He turned his head in horror and saw Wang Cong slapping his cheeks frantically. The force was so fierce that the latter's face was swollen and bruised instantly.

He cried loudly and laughed nervously. The bloody voice coming out of his throat only repeated one sentence over and over again:

"I'm not a human, I'm not a human ah ah ah——"