November 12, 1997, Fiona Bennett remembered Susan Wright's hospitalization. At the time, she thought Susan Wright had been admitted to the hospital because something had gone wrong during a drug trial, but now, of course, Fiona Bennett understood that Susan Wright had gone to the hospital in order to create an opportunity to communicate with suspect B. William Williams had also pulled some strings at Wenhua Hospital; after leaving Fenghai Hospital, the two of them took a taxi directly to Wenhua. According to the medical records retrieved from Wenhua Hospital's records room, during her brief stay, Susan Wright underwent a large number of blood tests, including various tests for heavy metal poisoning and for parasite eggs. In fact, Fiona Bennett had known about this for a long time—Gabriel Adams had already looked into it. According to the attending physician's recollection, all these tests were requested by Susan Wright herself, and the test for parasite eggs was done on November 12, the very day in question, and was the first of all the blood tests to be performed. This was rather odd, because Susan Wright's symptoms were more consistent with heavy metal poisoning, yet she insisted on first doing the rare blood test for parasite eggs. Only after the results came back normal did she proceed with several tests for heavy metal poisoning. This unusual order of testing—if it had nothing to do with Shirley Wright's blood tests, neither of them believed it; but if it was related, what kind of connection could it be?

All the clues from the text messages had been investigated. They had expected a breakthrough, but the fog only thickened.

Would there be more mysterious messages to provide new clues?

6

Adrian Wright helped Beatrice Collins turn over, then massaged her back muscles for a while, gently patted her shoulder, pulled up the quilt, and left the room.

Back when Shirley Wright was still alive, the doctors already thought it was remarkable that a long-term vegetative patient at home could survive for more than a decade with such meticulous care. More than ten years had passed, and Beatrice Collins was still alive. When doctors discussed this case, they all felt it was something of a miracle.

But Adrian Wright did not want this kind of miracle; what he wanted had never changed from the beginning. Only he knew how much he had sacrificed for it.

Checking the time, Adrian Wright sat down in the living room. He put tea leaves in the cup first, and placed a fruit plate with oranges on the coffee table. Today's guest should be arriving soon.

The guest was Adrian Wright's hope—or rather, part of his hope. Over the years, Beatrice Collins's condition had not been entirely static. When the TV was on, or when Adrian Wright was reading newspapers and magazines, he would see his wife's eyelids tremble and her eyeballs move. Adrian Wright believed that his wife was responsive to external stimuli. Although the doctors had never observed such things, Adrian Wright insisted it was not just his imagination. His wife's brainwave levels were also higher than those of the average vegetative patient. Adrian Wright felt that as long as he did not give up, one day, Beatrice Collins would wake up because of him.

As the saying goes, "long illness makes the patient a good doctor." After decades, Adrian Wright had become something of an expert in awakening vegetative patients. He kept up with all the new treatments, both domestic and international, and knew which vegetative patients had been revived. In recent years, there had been some new drugs and methods for neural stimulation in vegetative patients. He had sent Beatrice Collins's case to several overseas medical teams, and the replies said there was some possibility, but it would require at least three months of treatment to determine if there was any effect. That meant medical expenses of over a hundred thousand US dollars. If it worked, he would have to keep spending.

Having hope was always a good thing, and the money issue was not entirely impossible to solve. Not long ago, a kind-hearted person who knew about his situation had started an online fundraiser for him. Adrian Wright's decades of steadfast care, combined with the tragic fate of losing both daughters one after another, moved many sympathizers to donate generously.

Today's visitor was one such donor. He had originally donated eight hundred yuan, which was already quite a lot, but he specifically contacted Adrian Wright, saying he wanted to donate a second time, on the condition that he could visit in person. Adrian Wright understood why—everything said online was true, so if he wanted to verify, let him come.

The doorbell rang. Adrian Wright opened the door and led the guest inside. Seeing the slippers Adrian Wright had prepared, the guest apologized, lifted one pant leg slightly, and revealed a prosthetic limb.

"Uncle Wen, actually, you don't know this, but I was classmates with your daughter," William Williams said as soon as he sat down, then took out a check and placed it on the coffee table.

"A small token of appreciation."

Adrian Wright glanced at the amount and was shocked to see it was 100,000 yuan. He hurriedly tried to return it, saying it was too much. In his mind, how could he accept so much money from someone with a disability?

"Uncle, this amount isn't much to me, really," William Williams said, and he meant it.

After so many years as a taxi driver, Adrian Wright had a good eye for people. Hearing the tone and seeing the clothes, he didn't insist further. Still, he was puzzled: if this man was his daughter's classmate, why did he need to verify anything? This second donation was more than a hundred times the first—what was the real reason? But it wasn't appropriate to ask directly.

"Are you classmates with Xiulin or Xiujuan?"

"Both."

Adrian Wright was stunned.

"Uncle, actually, we've met before. In 1993, before Xiulin passed away, I visited her in the hospital—it was you who came to the school to call me. Then, in 1997, I was also at Xiujuan's memorial service."

"So it was you." Adrian Wright remembered now. Back then, he didn't know what Shirley Wright wanted with William Williams, only thought the man before him was his elder daughter's old boyfriend.

"But how could you also be Xiujuan's classmate? She was a year below you."

"I repeated a year before getting into university. I was in the medical preparatory class. But I was screened out in my second year."

At the mention of being "screened out," Adrian Wright understood. That year, the cheating scandal Susan Wright exposed was told to him by Harold Rogers at the school. The counselor, of course, wouldn't say that Susan Wright herself was also suspected of cheating, but Adrian Wright had heard some snide remarks from other students and had a sense of things. At this moment, he couldn't help glancing at William Williams's foot, feeling extremely awkward. It turned out this man had such a connection with both his daughters, and in fact, Susan Wright had ruined his life. How could he accept this donation now? But it was a hefty 100,000 yuan—enough for a tenth of the treatment.

The check sat on the coffee table, and Adrian Wright's gaze kept returning to it. By rights, he should have firmly returned the money—his daughter had wronged this man, how could he take more from him? But after all these years, the only principle he had left was the one lying in the back room.

Adrian Wright's inner struggle did not escape William Williams's notice. He only offered polite words once, then watched coldly, neither persuading nor stopping, feeling the time was right, and moved to the main topic.

"Uncle Wen, to be honest, the donation is actually secondary this time. The main reason I came is to ask you about something."

Hearing this, Adrian Wright no longer struggled. Since it was an exchange, not a pure gift, he could accept the money. But what information could he possibly have that was worth 100,000 yuan?

"Strictly speaking, my relationship with Xiujian and Xiulin was not that of ordinary classmates. Xiulin has been gone for thirteen years, and Xiujuan for nine—such early deaths, it's always a regret when I think of it. For a special reason, I saw Xiulin's medical records, and there's one thing I just can't figure out. A few days after Xiulin passed away, you had a blood test done for her. Do you remember this?"

Adrian Wright hadn't expected William Williams to ask about this—it touched on a huge secret deep in his heart.

"It's been so many years. There's no point in talking about it now."

"But it means a lot to me. The reason I came today is to find out why, after Xiulin passed away, you still had this test done, and specifically requested a test for parasite eggs?" William Williams didn't explain what the special reason was. Susan Wright's death was too complicated; to explain everything would take hours and might only create more variables. Hence the 100,000 yuan check on the table.

"If you want to know so much, then all right."

That incredible post-mortem blood test back then was not, in itself, anything unspeakable. Since William Williams was so insistent, for the sake of the living, Adrian Wright sighed and began to recount the painful past.

In the late summer of 1993, Shirley Wright's illness had reached the middle and late stages. Adrian Wright realized the hospital had no good options left and could only watch as his daughter moved step by step toward death. She was the daughter he cherished most, and Adrian Wright began to seek help everywhere. In the process of seeking treatment for his wife Beatrice Collins, Adrian Wright had made contact with many experts in vegetative patient care, both in China and abroad. He thought, since his daughter had a brain tumor, which was also a neurological issue like vegetative patients, he prepared many copies of Shirley Wright's case files and sent them everywhere. Few replied, and none had any practical treatment plans, until Adrian Wright received a reply from a doctor in Hong Kong.

The letter said that, judging from Shirley Wright's X-ray brain scans, her case was slightly different from typical brain tumor patients. To confirm the diagnosis, it would be best to do a brain CT. If hospitals on the mainland didn't have CT equipment, he could help arrange for a Hong Kong hospital. Finally, he mentioned that he had once treated a case of brain infection by parasite eggs, which was quite similar to Shirley Wright's situation. If it was not possible to come to Hong Kong for the time being, he suggested first doing a blood test for parasite eggs.