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墨書 Inktalez
He saw a place in his dream for the first time that was not the Dragon Garden.
It was a building, a towering structure that required him to tilt his head back for a long time to see where the top ended. Standing on the ground, he could see nothing else; all that filled his vision was this cloud-piercing edifice. Perhaps it was an illusion, but it seemed as if a shadow stood behind every window.
Was he at odds with those shadows? He pondered.
Although he had no idea where this place was or what lay within, he found himself unable to control his body in the dream, forced to watch as the building's door drew closer. The path beneath his feet was made up of countless fragments of stone, and with each step he took, he could hear the sound of stones cracking behind him. There was only the sound of breaking, no thud of falling; he wanted to turn around but found himself unable to move.
As he approached the building, the coldness and stench grew more intense. When he finally stood before the door, the nauseating odor tore through his senses like a knife, burrowing into his mind.
His body froze in place, allowing the foul smell to invade him. He wanted to vomit but could not; instead, he closed his eyes and forced himself to forget his current predicament.
Having rarely sought help from others in dreams, he now screamed from the depths of his heart, desperate to call out for salvation. Yet while his spirit could be controlled, his body refused to obey.
In a moment of near despair, he sensed something approaching from behind him. The horror of being unable to turn around felt even more hopeless than standing there. Fortunately, the thing that drew near could speak.
"You found me."
Awakened abruptly, Song Bunan barely had time to open his eyes before pain shot through them, forcing him to shut them again. Tears streamed down his face almost simultaneously. His eyes hurt, his head throbbed, his back ached, and his arms and legs felt numb—there was hardly a part of him that felt good. Unable to move with a blank mind, he lay on something soft for what felt like an eternity before remembering where he was.
Surrounded by shelves crammed with books, a window cut through the high shelves, allowing sunlight to pour in. The golden light did not shine directly on him but still illuminated the dark room that seemed black at night. Dust particles danced freely in the light.
Beside him lay Xiao Mei, still fast asleep with her eyes tightly shut. The clothes they had covered themselves with last night had slipped down halfway and now rested over their thighs. He felt a slight chill but had no way to pull the fabric back.
His body was numb from Xiao Mei's weight; even the slightest movement felt like countless needles stabbing every cell within him. The pain shattered his drowsiness; tears flowed freely down his cheeks—not from sadness but because the light made it impossible for him to stop crying.
"Xiao Mei? Xiao Mei?" He tried calling out to her in hopes of easing some of his discomfort. However, no matter how much he called out, she remained deeply asleep, her breathing so light it seemed she might vanish at any moment. Having experienced fainting spells before and being recorded during them, he recognized this phenomenon; what they needed most right now was an ambulance filled with white-coated angels.
Gritting through the pain, he gently wrapped his arms around Xiao Mei and awkwardly turned himself out from their shared space, leaving her lying on the warm leather sofa while covering her with their clothes.
It hurt so much; every inch of him felt like it had been shattered. His flesh screamed to escape him; fingers and toes twitched as blood began flowing again, intensifying the sharp pain beyond what he had felt before.
Standing there like a weeble wobble, Song Bunan swayed left and right as he struggled not to fall over. He wanted to hold himself up not because he feared appearing weak but because the carpet on the study floor was soaked with years of dust—a reminder of how last time had left him gasping for air.
Once that wave of discomfort passed, Song Bunan raised an arm and stretched luxuriously. As he moved, his bones began cracking back into place with satisfying pops that felt indescribably good.
Feeling somewhat revitalized, he thought about opening the door to check on the situation outside; if all seemed well, he'd take Xiao Mei back to their little room.
As he opened the door, Song Bunan recalled Doctor Jiang Ling's sudden appearance last night. The gentle and composed doctor from the hospital maintained that unique aura here as well but felt somewhat different. Upon reflection, it seemed that last night's doctor resembled more of a killer than a physician.
He not only knew what was written in the Black Notebook but also understood that it contained things meant for only him to see. What he spoke indeed held answers to some questions. Unfortunately, this person remained inscrutable—as if there were mountains between them that obscured everything beyond sight.
Anyone who could be so close to Xiao Mei must be extraordinary indeed. Song Bunan reassured himself as he decisively turned the doorknob.
Outside, the sunlight illuminated everything just like it did here. For the first time, the spacious hall revealed its true form in the daylight, devoid of the eerie atmosphere it had at night; it was just an ordinary old mansion. The floor was covered with dust that had settled after being swept, and the wallpaper was dry and peeling, scattered across the ground. Peering towards the staircase, he noticed a landscape painting hanging at the end, depicting a moonlit night.
Could the full moon he saw last time be from this painting?
As Song Bunan intended to step closer for a better look, he was startled by a loud bang from the door. He let out a frightened cry, clutching his racing heart as he turned to see Zhang Long gasping for breath, gripping the doorknob as if he had just run a thousand meters.
“How are you guys?” The person who rushed in grabbed his shoulders tightly, inspecting him up and down with great agitation, as if they had been practicing dark arts together last night.
Dizzy from being shaken, Song Bunan gestured for him to stop and rubbed his head as he replied, “I’m fine. Xiao Mei fainted last night and hasn’t woken up since. I think she might be injured and needs treatment.”
Upon hearing that Xiao Mei had fainted, Zhang Long’s eyes widened in terror as he frantically searched the hall like a headless fly. After managing to suppress his nausea, Song Bunan stepped forward and grabbed Zhang Long’s arm. “Come on, she’s right here; stop looking around.”
Neither of them had unlocked their medical skills, so they couldn’t determine Xiao Mei’s condition scientifically. Zhang Long picked her up and hurried outside. However, standing beside him, Song Bunan clearly noticed that when Zhang Long saw the clothes covering Xiao Mei, he frowned slightly, surprise flashing in his eyes.
It seemed that Zhang Long also knew Doctor Jiang Ling.
Following obediently behind Zhang Long, Song Bunan realized that he would soon be able to go home for a meal and catch up on sleep.
To his surprise, they sped straight to the Jiang Family Courtyard. He had expected them to head directly to the hospital and looked at Zhang Long in confusion. The person who caught his gaze merely tilted his head slightly and forced a smile that looked worse than crying.
“Only family can treat her condition. Uncle Meng has prepared food for you; after you eat, I’ll take you home.”
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