Chapter 1752

Chapter 1752

This evening, it was around eight o'clock.

"You know what to do when you get it to the place."

"Don't worry, Director Wu, I know."

A middle-aged man wearing black jeans and a solemn face said respectfully: "I hope you will take good care of my daughter and old mother for me."

I sat on the golden cup and watched him talk through the glass.

Wu Le waved his hand, and the middle-aged man turned around and got into the car.

The car started, and I took two deep breaths, trying to relax and not be too nervous.

The car drove for a while and suddenly stopped. The man handed me a hood and said to put it on himself.

I did.

Then I couldn't see anything anymore, I just felt the car starting to move again.

On the way, I heard the man driving the car talking to a friend on the phone, and his words seemed to be explaining the funeral arrangements.

When I thought of Wu Le's expression just now, I secretly guessed that this person might have seen my face, so Wu Le gave him the order to commit suicide or something.

The Jinbei car drove around for more than an hour. When we got there, I couldn't see the road, so this man took my arm and walked.

Soon, I heard singing.

It's the kind of melodious and light pure music played from a large speaker.

"He was sent here? Is it him? His name is Wu Feng?"

"That's right, Uncle Hong, that's the man."

"Okay, sign here and let's hand it over."

"Okay, I'll sign it."

A few minutes later, my hood was suddenly taken off.

Very impressed.

The young man who sent me here has left, and the person who took off my hood is a middle-aged man with short hair and a round face, about fifty years old, his name is Lao Hong.

Apart from this Lao Hong, the first thing that caught my eyes was a large, extremely thick iron door painted with red paint. It was surrounded by towering trees. Since it was winter, the leaves on the trees had all fallen off and were bare. Looking very lonely.

There is a solid wood plaque hanging directly above the large red-painted iron door, which reads: "Jiamusi Mental Hospital."

On both sides of the door are solid walls several feet tall, with a kind of power grid set up on top of the wall.

I looked up and could see two buildings with lights on inside.

Depressed, hidden, and shabby, this is how I feel here.

The style here is not like a modern hospital at all, but more like an old hospital from the 1950s, or simply like a prison.

After many years, I want to make it clear that this is definitely not the Jiamusi Mental Illness Prevention and Treatment Hospital located at No. 5 Guanghua Road. This is another place. I am sure this place is within Jiamusi City, maybe in the suburbs?

If you are local friends in Jiamusi and are curious, you might as well go look for it.

The door opened, and the man named Lao Hong patted me on the shoulder and said: "Young man, I will take you to the reception room right away to get your clothes. We are all members of the club. I don't need to say more. You should also know that since you are here, Just settle down and don't think about the past. Living is better than anything else."

"Understood, I know."

He looked a little surprised and said: "Huh? It's really rare. You, a young man, are so honest."

After following him in, the space was too big. It was a very large playground. The middle of the playground was divided into two by a tall wall.

According to the architectural drawings I remembered earlier, this should be the men's area in the east courtyard, and the other side of the wall should be the women's area in the west courtyard.