Chapter 5

Ariana said, “My brother said if you refused when we discussed this with you, then we would have to resort to force. You are suspended now, and your reputation is ruined. Keeping the house will not help you. Sign here and transfer the property title to my name. Then I will withdraw the complaint and help you clear your name online. How about you sign it?”

She shook her phone. On the screen was a screenshot of the live stream from earlier, showing me kneeling on the ground with blood on my face. “If you do not sign it, I will post these photos in your hospital group chat. You will not be able to perform surgery. You will be buried under public criticism.”

I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms. It became clear. Ariana had never come to report drugs. Her goal was not the container. Her goal was the house I had purchased with ten years of salary.

The seventy‑two‑year‑old man and the heart that could have saved his life were only tools she used to force me to comply.

“Ariana, do you know that you killed someone today? Do you know how important that person was?”

Ariana rolled her eyes. “Stop talking nonsense. I am asking if you will sign or not. If you will not, I am leaving. I will do another live stream before I leave. This time, I will say that you not only trafficked drugs, but you also accepted bribes from patients’ families.”

Bang.

The iron door of the interrogation room slammed open. The hinge scraped loudly. The sound of hurried, synchronized footsteps came from the corridor. They were not leather shoes. They were military boots.

Thud, thud, thud.

The sound grew louder until it shook the walls.

Ariana jumped. Her milk tea fell to the floor and splashed across her skirt. “What is that commotion outside?”

A dozen heavily armed special forces soldiers stormed into the interrogation room.

They wore bulletproof vests and night vision goggles. Tactical flashlights hung from the muzzles of their guns, and the beams flickered across the walls.

“Everyone stay still. Hands over your heads.”

The interrogator and Ariana were forced to the ground. A female soldier escorted me to the wall.

The leading officer strode in. He wore a uniform with a gold star on his shoulder. He was a Major General. His eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were pressed into a thin line. His gaze swept across the room and stopped at the tray on the table.

He stared at the destroyed heart, now dark purple. His back stiffened. He turned his head and looked at everyone in the room before his eyes locked onto Ariana.

“It is you?” he asked in a low voice.

Ariana was pinned to the ground with her cheek pressed against the tiles. Her eyes darted around. “Who are you? What is this act? Let me go. I am calling the police.”

The Major General walked up to her and knelt. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Did you kick over the temperature‑controlled container?”

Ariana lifted her chin. “So what if I kicked it? That container had drugs. My report was meritorious.”

The Major General closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were red‑rimmed. He stood and addressed the entire room. His voice was firm and steady. “The recipient of that heart was Academician Arthur Quinn of the Academy of Engineering. He was a recipient of the Medal of Honor for the bombs and satellite programme and a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award of the State Preeminent Science and Technology Award. Mr. Quinn dedicated his life to the country. He died on the operating table fifteen minutes after the heart never arrived.”

He turned and stared at Ariana’s face, smeared with milk tea. “It was you who killed Mr. Quinn.”