The female patient standing behind Zhou Qi’an blocked a portion of the all-pervasive sunlight. The light that could even penetrate walls was unable to physically pass through the patient’s body.
In the shadow, Zhou Qi’an’s headache actually eased a little.
His slightly dazed eyes fell upon his own hand, which was in the process of opening the door. A jolt went through him, and he snatched his hand back as if electrocuted.
A strong wave of palpitation arose, and for the first time, a look of horror appeared on Zhou Qi’an’s face.
What am I doing?
After escaping the shroud of sunlight, his memories belatedly returned.
The corridor had no windows at all. How could he possibly have seen light there with his own eyes before? Once a crack was torn open, more and more false images flooded his mind. A chill instantly ran down Zhou Qi’an’s spine.
His memory had been tampered with.
This was something that had never happened in previous instances. And during the process, he had even managed to make his actions logically consistent.
“Dream…”
He finally remembered everything. In order to seal the heart, he had voluntarily come to the dream.
He had used a mental-type item beforehand to stay lucid, which prevented him from dreaming. Without it, he would have been swept away by the dream immediately upon entering.
A 5-star-plus instance. Not only could it tamper with memories, but it also seemed to be like a high-precision computer, capable of predicting their methods for clearing the level.
Zhou Qi’an had a premonition that if he tried to use the elephant seal to destroy the greenhouse next, he would absolutely encounter another life-or-death crisis.
If the dream could autonomously read and judge each person’s strategy for passing, didn’t that mean there were many dead ends waiting for them?
It had, through the subconscious, predicted all the players’ predictions.
Knock, knock, knock.
The knocking from outside continued, interrupting his thoughts.
The warmth of the sun could no longer be felt inside the room. In its place was a creepy, cold yin energy. This heavy yin energy had almost condensed into water on the flower petals near the petri dish.
When he came to his senses, Zhou Qi’an subconsciously and carefully turned the knob first, locking the door from the inside.
Click.
A small knob, a loud, crisp sound.
Zhou Qi’an closed his eyes.
Am I obsessed with doors today?
The exceptionally loud sound of the lock being turned indeed alerted the things outside.
The previously gentle knocking instantly turned into a frantic pounding. The door panel shook violently, and the sides, middle, and top of the door were all being hit. There was clearly more than one ‘person’ outside.
Zhou Qi’an couldn’t help but take a step back.
Just then, the female patient behind him also let go and walked to the other side.
Losing her cover, the sunlight hit him, and Zhou Qi’an once again felt muddled.
Without hesitation, he immediately moved to stand in front of the female patient, making a heart shape with his hands above his head: A grateful heart, thank you for saving me.
Beneath her disheveled hair, the female patient’s brownish eyes were exceptionally cold, merely lacking some of the brutality from before.
Zhou Qi’an squatted down, appearing exceptionally obedient, trying his best to use the woman as a large tree for shade.
The lingering floral scent in his mouth had completely sobered him up. After the instance upgrade, players had lost their most subjective judgment. Now, illusion and dream were intertwined, creating a fatal factor.
This beautiful dream seemed to be bewitching them into unconsciously moving away from the Cyclamen Hospital.
If it’s a dream, there’s a way to break it.
During the process of leaving, there should be an opportunity to discover something, but the crisis from the wilderness would probably be even deeper.
Sticking out a finger, Zhou Qi’an thought for a moment and drew a ‘Z’ in the air.
The female patient’s expression didn’t change much. The fingernails hidden behind her back nearly dug into the wall plaster, and a trace of madness unconsciously colored her eyes.
Dr. Z’s existence would forever be a trigger for her.
The yin energy in the room increased sharply for a moment, and a cold wind even howled past his ear.
“I will definitely kill Dr. Z.”
Instead of avoiding it, Zhou Qi’an’s gaze fell on the door card he had handed over earlier, and he mouthed, word by word: “I will keep my promise.”
Empty words meant nothing; action was the best proof.
Zhou Qi’an had proven with his actions that even when he was in a muddled state, he would fulfill his promise.
But that alone was not enough.
The patient’s aversion to the caregiver was innate. The woman showed no reaction, merely lifting her eyelids to glance at the wall clock.
The current time in the dream was 17:44.
Zhou Qi’an’s mind worked quickly. According to the caregiver’s schedule, 18:00 was the second time they could take patients out for activities.
The pounding on the door continued. He glanced toward the door. By that time, the things outside might temporarily move away.
Now only one problem remained: how to get to Dr. Z’s secret garden during the free activity time.
The game would not give them an impossible situation. The sun in the dream was definitely different from the one in reality; it could be sealed.
He had to retrace the secret path, reach the special area above the pharmacy, and find the ‘heart’.
The obstacles along the way would not be small.
There were pregnant women, and he might run into other patients.
Zhou Qi’an’s eyes were slightly lowered. After a moment, he suddenly looked at the female patient, a smile returning to his face:
“Beautiful and kind sister, let’s swap identities one last time.”
…
At 18:00, it was time for the caregivers to lead the patients in activities.
The ward door was opened on time, and the things outside were indeed gone.
On the floor tiles remained some turbid, foul-smelling liquid. On the dark door panel, several incomplete handprints of small children were clearly imprinted.
Zhou Qi’an’s throat moved.
Judging by the size of the handprints, they were infants. Could it be that those pregnant women from before had followed him upstairs?
He looked left and right, confirming there were no signs of pregnant women.
Wheelchairs for patient outings could be found on every floor. Zhou Qi’an changed back into the patient’s uniform and sat in the wheelchair with his hair disheveled. He was starting to like the ability to freely change his hair color more and more. He had once considered it a useless skill, but now he wished he could switch between seven colors.
Sitting in a wheelchair brought with it a sense of weakness, but most importantly, it could blur others’ perception of his height.
The corridor was temporarily empty, with the eerie sunlight shining on every inch of the floor.
The elevator doors opened.
The wheelchair entered the elevator. Zhou Qi’an sat in it, his head bowed the entire time. Behind him, the female patient, disguised as a caregiver, also had her head slightly lowered.
Inside the empty elevator car, after they entered, a soft singing voice began.
Zhou Qi’an was humming a song, the one Jin Zhi loved most, “The World Outside.”
The female patient had an infinite longing for freedom, a longing that Jin Zhi also possessed.
Trapped in the Cyclamen Hospital for years, surrounded by an endless wilderness, Zhou Qi’an used her curiosity about the outside world—airplanes, ships, schools, movies… like the queen in “One Thousand and One Nights,” he would stop abruptly whenever he got to the most exciting part.
In order to hear more about the world outside, the female patient did not object to swapping identities with him and traveling together for a short while.
They successfully arrived outside the inpatient building, and the less-than-fresh air hit their faces.
The sound of the wheels rubbing against the ground was not quiet. Under the sunlight, the pairs of eyes of the pregnant women who had just returned to the long bench in the distance were filled with an undisguised desire to eat.
They needed nutrition.
As the wheelchair approached, all the pregnant women looked over greedily.
The female patient, wearing the hood of her sweatshirt, was unmoved, walking slowly with her head down:
“You continue talking.”
Zhou Qi’an tried his best to ignore those strange gazes, lowered his voice, and described everything about the outside world in a voice only the two of them could hear.
He only lifted his eyes once during the process.
“It should still be the world of the療養 (convalescence) dream.”
The scene was the same as when he had entered the dream with Zhao Sanxun and the others before; the pregnant women were still sitting in the same place.
He hadn’t observed carefully before. Now, looking up, the sun in the sky had become much lower, and its outline was even more blurred. Like a projection from the void, the light beams that created the projection all converged on a spot between the tenth and eleventh floors of the inpatient building behind him.
Miss Z’s secret garden was there, but unfortunately, it couldn’t be reached by the inpatient building’s elevator.
Zhou Qi’an had to take the long way around.
The distance to the outpatient building was getting closer, so close that he could even hear the sound of the pregnant women’s saliva rolling in their throats.
It was as if, in their eyes, a dining cart was approaching.
When the wheelchair and the long bench were on a straight line, just a stone’s throw away, the female patient’s steps suddenly stopped. The next second, she suddenly gave the wheelchair a hard shove.
Clatter, clatter.
The wheels spun at high speed, and Zhou Qi’an was flung out like a hidden weapon.
The female patient let go immediately and turned to run in another direction.
The pregnant women, who had been restless all along, saw the running living creature and immediately stood up out of reflex. They ran with large strides. Not only were their bellies not a burden, but pairs of small, bruised hands stretched out from within, mustering all their strength to reach the ‘prey’ in the sweatshirt and pants ahead.
The wheelchair continued to move forward under inertia. The sunlight overhead was fake and cold. Zhou Qi’an sat stiffly in the wheelchair, motionless.
He couldn’t raise his head. He could only use his peripheral vision to watch the movement of the patient uniforms on both sides in the sound of the wind, to judge whether these pregnant women had completely left. His heart was beating rapidly.
As one of the pregnant women passed by, she gave Zhou Qi’an an extra look.
Suddenly, she seemed to feel that something was wrong and stopped.
Zhou Qi’an’s heart was in his throat.
“You…” The pregnant woman narrowed her long, slender eyes and approached Zhou Qi’an, her belly sticking out.
Her belly was constantly twitching, the undulations getting bigger and bigger. The ghost infant inside seemed ready to jump out at any moment.
Zhou Qi’an held his breath, enduring the discomfort under the sunlight, and moved his wrist as if inadvertently.
A long, thin object came into view. The pregnant woman’s suspicious gaze gradually faded, and she resumed an exaggerated running posture, chasing in the direction the female patient had run.
The crisis was not completely over. The next moment, a rustling sound, different from the wind, came continuously from the bushes.
Through the gaps in the deep green leaves, a contrasting flesh-red color was moving. The flesh-mound monsters had almost made this place another lair. As they moved, even the smallest insects in the ground would be swept into their flesh.
They were hungrier than the pregnant women.
Without a protective suit, and with no strength to collect the test tubes before entering the dream, his consciousness had disappeared suddenly. The extracted flower juice must have fallen on the ground.
Now, not a single drop of flower liquid was left in the bottle in his backpack.
Once infected, it would be extremely fatal.
He braced himself and continued to move forward in the wheelchair, not going too fast, otherwise it would seem unnatural.
The ramp specifically for wheelchairs was quite close to the bushes. Zhou Qi’an could almost smell the foul stench coming from the flesh-mound monsters.
The rustling sound lessened a bit.
The monster, covered in fleshy tumors, stopped. Its eyes, about the size of pustules, peered through the gaps at the person in the patient’s uniform.
The flesh-mound monsters were observing.
His feet on the footrests unconsciously tensed. The hand on the side closer to the flesh-mound monsters gripped the push handle. Zhou Qi’an tried his best to keep the pressure on the wheels even, while further displaying his wrist.
—He was wearing the female patient’s hospital wristband.
This was Zhou Qi’an’s trump card.
