The undead do not need to breathe. They can ,however, inhale and exhale - just as they had done in life. The effects of nicotine were not lost on them either. Maybe if this were not so, it would have been easier to drop the cigarettes. Or at least that would have been more effective than having a little old lady routinely swat the still lit stick right out of your hand.

"How many times must I tell you?" The elderly woman sounded exasperated, large bat-like ears twitching in annoyance. "No smoking! Not even in the backroom. We don't have windows here, young man!"

Her companion, a bespectacled man with heavily scarred lips, grimaced as he picked up his fallen cigarette to snuff it out properly. He'd probably had a stronger reaction if it were anyone else. But with the little old vampire, this was all but routine.

"Geez, Carmine, there isn't even anyone else around," the man grumbled.

"So? Rules are rules, doctor. And I am not having any of that nasty smoke in my cafe," she proceeded to unlock the door to the backroom. "Think of the customers! You know full well secondhand smoking is a thing."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Wow. God forbid one of your customers be the first vampire ever to perish of lung cancer."

"Ah yes, very amusing" Carmine replied flatly. The door opened with a click of the lock and a creak of the hinges. A fat rat with coal black fur scampered towards the two. The woman bent over and held out a hand for the rat to climb into. The hefty rodent then proceeded to climb up Carmine's arm and onto her shoulder to squeak into her ear.

The little old lady nodded, with little 'hm's and 'ah's, as the little critter gave her the daily update on the cafe.

"So...anything new ?" The doctor bent over, hoping to make out what the rat was saying. Nope. They just sounded like regular rat noises to him.

"Well...not exactl- wait, hold on..." Carmine's eyes widened as her rodent informer fed her a few more pieces of information. It appeared that a living human had somehow found the cafe some days ago. The doctor's question was somewhat answered by the look in the old lady's eyes as she turned to leave. "Pardon me, Dr. Lau. I have...much to discuss with dear Rodney over here. Urgent matters."

And with that, she was out, Rodney the rotund rodent riding upon her shoulder. The doctor was left alone. For now, at least.

The backroom was mostly occupied by a sink and the fridges of blood that lined one of the walls. Oh, and also a wooden coffin laid upon a desk (one of those with wheels on their legs).

Lau gave the coffin a gentle knock. No response.

A few more knocks. A faint groan.

Oh good. The patient's still in there.

The doctor proceeded to undo the paper talismans plastered onto the coffin, taking care not to rip them in the process. Not all of them, of course. No need to tamper with that that does not need to be tampered with. He knew just the ones to remove.

All but routine.

Then he removed the lid. Within the wooden space lay a man stiff as a board. He wore the uniform of a security guard and a paper talisman on his forehead.

Dull lifeless eyes peered at the doctor. The man in the coffin huffed. Despite his unchanged facial expression, the doctor had always had a hunch that his patient did not appreciate being woken up two whole hours before his shift.

"Mr. Zhang, they did tell you that I would be checking in on you today, right ?"

An abnormally long tongue snaked out of the jiangshi's mouth. On cue, the doctor picked the little notepad and pen resting on a nearby chair. The tongue wrapped itself around the pen and drew it over the paper. If one squinted really hard, and knew how to read chinese, those sloppy strokes of ink could pass for words.

"Maybe."

"I assume you just forgot about it then?"

No reply, not even on paper. Ever since they had met, Lau had known the jiangshi to be a man of few words. As he helped the man out of his coffin, the doctor had to wonder if Zhang had always been like that. Was he just as brief in his words in life ? What was he like before he died?

But then again, nobody even knew the guy's first name. Not even the jiangshi himself. All they had to go off of was the presumed surname written on the side of the coffin.

Where did Carmine even find an entire reanimated corpse in the first place ? The old lady wouldn't say a word about it. For now, the doctor had more important things on his mind.

Things like "How the hell is this corpse so stiff? I broke him out of rigor mortis two weeks ago!" and "If Zhang was willing to donate his body to science, would Carmine allow it?"

But for now he would have to make do with less in-depth observations as he set about the routine of trying to loosen the jiangshi's joints. With a bit of elbow grease, it worked. Zhang's right leg could now bend at the knee.

Not that it ever lasted more than a week and a half.

Yeah, this was definitely something more than your everyday rigor mortis. And that meant, taking some extra measures to keep that leg bendable.

"Alright, Zhang. Remember what we talked though last week? That we would be trying out something new?"

The jiangshi scrawled "I think so" onto the notepad laid on his lap.

"Good! Good!"

The doctor had set his bag down on the floor by the desk. A small bottle of clear fluid was produced from the bag and set down on the chair nearby as he put the syringe together.

"Ready?"

"Yes. But does the old lady know about this?"

"No. I don't think she needs to know." If Carmine knew, would she have allowed it? Using one of her employees to test a dubious remedy. But then again, she does keep said employee in a storage room. Clearly, she has no say when it comes to ethics.

What did Lau care anyways? Nothing good had ever come from him waiting for approval. Especially not when there's such an ...interesting situation in his hands.

And that is the exact mindset that had costed Lau his medical license.