Pain Never Lies

The tests were stranger than expected. Lin's rotator cuff was intact, his joint structurally healthy, yet his nerves broadcast maximum pain as if his body believed it had been torn apart. Analgesics barely worked. His heart rate refused to settle. Su read the report three times. “Your body is hurting for someone else,” she said. Only the three of them remained in the hospital room. Zhou sat by the window with an ice pack on his right shoulder. At last Lin described the visible states, the once-per-game exchange, and the warning about debt. Zhou did not react with wonder. He reacted with fury. “Who gave you permission to trade your career for forty-seven minutes of mine?” “Without it, you might have ruined your arm.”