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Ye Chenfeng refused to continue his relationship with Qin Keqing. He decided to go alone and told her that if she didn't hear from him for a long time, she should call the police.
With no other choice, Qin Keqing had to return to Purple City.
Both of their phones needed to be kept on at all times, and then they each headed towards their destinations.
Ye Chenfeng couldn't believe that what he saw last night was just a dream. The driver he encountered was dead, with dry, transparent ears that lacked luster. Just based on that, he suspected the driver was a ghost.
The driver's soul was trapped in the Mental Hospital, but because of Ye Chenfeng's presence, he wanted to convey that he wasn't insane.
However, Ye Chenfeng felt powerless; he couldn't prove that the driver wasn't crazy. That was why he sought help through a dream—typically, those who can send dreams are no longer among the living.
Ye Chenfeng felt he had let the driver down, and guilt weighed heavily on him. As he walked, he kept glancing at his palm.
In the center of his palm was a strange Golden Seal, left to him by the Deep Mountain Old Monk.
The Golden Seal would sometimes appear and sometimes fade into the lines of his palm.
The White Building flickered in and out of view in the morning mist, while dew-covered plants appeared greener, their leaves drooping as a crystal droplet rolled off and dripped onto the ground, merging into the soil and leaving only a ring of dampness behind.
The sky was too pale, resembling a woman's bloodless face. A breeze carried fine rain that sprinkled onto the plants, adding a touch of vibrant green.
Is it raining?
Ye Chenfeng strode forward, breaking countless raindrops into fragments; some landed on his hair, others on his clothes. Gradually, his clothes became damp, and the soles of his shoes made a soft rustling sound against the ground.
This time, as he returned to the Mental Hospital, he walked with determination. After breaking up with Qin Keqing, he didn't look back even once. Not even the sound of car horns from behind could easily distract him.
The drizzle began to intensify, soaking the ground, and the leaves of the plants drooped down, their tips no longer defiant; it was rainwater that dripped down, not dew.
The White Building stood out particularly in the rain, looking brand new, as if it had just been freshly coated with plaster. The greenery surrounding the White Building appeared even more vibrant. From a distance, a figure emerged from the white structure, glancing around at the entrance. It seemed to catch sight of Ye Chenfeng approaching but quickly ducked back, no longer visible.
Ye Chenfeng often found himself walking alone on what felt like an endless road.
Walking alone was quiet and solitary. He could clearly see what grass grew by the roadside and what wildflowers bloomed. He counted the weeping willows along the path, noting one that stood taller than the others. By the time he reached the last willow, he found himself at the entrance of the White Building.
The guard at the door seemed not to recognize Ye Chenfeng. Even when he mentioned visiting Zhou Zhisheng the previous week, the guard remained wary.
"I didn't bring a letter of introduction this time; could you please notify Zhou Zhisheng for me?" The sky was devoid of clouds but still pale and eerie, with fine rain drifting down from the thin layer of clouds. The world around him felt ambiguous, as if a large pot were about to cover everything underground.
No, it should be covering all living beings inside the White Building.
Eventually, the guard opened the door for him.
Ye Chenfeng wondered if he would be able to walk straight out after stepping through this door or if he would become another driver, patiently waiting for someone to appear and then relay a dream about the terrifying events that transpired here.
Soon enough, someone came out to greet Ye Chenfeng.
It was the same person who had received him last time, hands resting habitually on his abdomen and speaking little as he led him to Zhou Zhisheng's office.
Is this Zhou Zhisheng?
Everything that had happened last night was still vivid in his mind. The Zhou Zhisheng before him looked just as he always did, as if nothing had occurred last night, warmly welcoming him.
There was no need for pleasantries; getting straight to the point, Zhou Zhisheng asked Ye Chenfeng, "Did you walk all this way?"
Zhou Zhisheng's words caught him off guard for a moment, prompting him to look down and notice that the soles of his shoes were wet. His big toe felt a bit cold and painful, and he smiled awkwardly, shifting his toe inside the shoe.
He sat down with a composed demeanor and said in a calm tone, "No, they drove me here."
"They?" Zhou Zhisheng asked, his tone turning cautious as he feigned indifference and glanced out the window. From his vantage point, he couldn't see the entrance, only distant trees.
"Is there any new situation lately?"
Zhou Zhisheng replied, "Yes."
Hearing Zhou Zhisheng say this surprised Ye Chenfeng; he was eager to know what this so-called new situation was.
Zhou Zhisheng invited Ye Chenfeng to have some tea before walking over to sit at his desk, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he began recounting recent events.
One morning, half a month before Ye Chenfeng arrived at the Mental Hospital, the morning mist had not yet fully dissipated, and patients at the Mental Hospital began to emerge one after another to exercise in the open area.
Dressed in uniforms, the Nursing Staff moved among the patients, responsible for protecting, supervising, and caring for them to prevent any accidents while they were allowed outside.
A petite Nursing Staff member named Xiao Qiu approached Room 203 with a jingling keychain in hand. As she opened the door, four beds became visible inside. Three of the patients were already up, moving sluggishly with vacant expressions and drooling at the corners of their mouths. They remained indifferent to her presence, continuing with whatever they were doing.
Another patient lay on the last bed.
This patient had a strange expression, eyes slightly open, mouth askew, and hands clenched tightly.
"Get up, get up!" Xiao Qiu called out as she helped the other patients adjust their clothing. Then she walked over to the last bed for a closer look and was so startled that she dropped her keychain on the floor. She rushed out of the room shouting, "Something's wrong! Something's happened!"
Xiao Qiu's shout startled a person in the office.
This person was holding a stick of incense, standing in a respectful posture, murmuring prayers. Upon hearing the shout, he frowned, placed the incense down properly, and quickly stepped outside to ask, "What happened?"
As Xiao Qiu called out, several nursing staff rushed over. When she heard someone asking, she turned to the questioner and hurriedly replied, "Director Zhou is in trouble, Room 203, Lin Shaohua..."
The Director Zhou being referred to was Zhou Zhisheng.
Upon hearing that something had happened, he narrowed his eyes and focused intently on her, pressing for details. "What happened?"
"A patient... has petrified."
"Let's go take a look."
Zhou Zhisheng waved his hand decisively, instructing someone to lead the way.
In Room 203, aside from the petrified patient, the other three had already been taken out.
The petrified patient maintained a twisted expression, with eyes slightly open revealing a glimpse of white—lifeless and devoid of any awareness.
What on earth is going on?
Those witnessing the scene exchanged glances, hesitant to approach.
Zhou Zhisheng called out, "Take him to the emergency room."
The medical staff at this mental hospital were quite professional. Upon hearing the command, they quickly prepared for action in the emergency room.
The patient was pushed in, and a comprehensive examination was immediately conducted.
The results came back quickly: unexplained petrification. All bodily functions were normal, but there was no consciousness. At that moment, the patient resembled a lifeless puppet, completely unaware of anything happening around him.
Zhou Zhisheng sensed something was wrong and promptly performed routine checks on the other patients. The results showed everything was normal, except for Lin Shaohua, who was the only one in trouble. If there were an issue somewhere, it couldn't just be affecting him alone, could it?
Currently, Lin Shaohua was in a state of stupor, neither eating nor drinking. Attempts to feed him milk and other supportive medications were futile. He had lost the ability to swallow and showed no signs of being a person at all.
Even if he were a psychiatric patient, he should at least have some basic survival instincts. Yet now, he exhibited none of those fundamental desires to live; he was simply waiting to die.
Sure enough, after half an hour of ceasing assistance, Lin Shaohua went into shock and passed away. When he died, his expression was still one of terrifying strangeness; his mouth was grotesquely askew, wide enough to fit a small ball inside.
At the same time, nursing staff discovered they could no longer communicate with the outside world.
Phone calls went unanswered.
Personnel sent out for supplies had mysteriously vanished.
This couldn't continue; they needed to find a way to break free.
Just as Zhou Zhisheng contemplated rushing outside, the sky above the mental hospital turned ominously dark. It was nine in the morning, yet it felt more like nightfall. Thick clouds loomed heavily overhead, preventing them from escaping the mental hospital.
The mental hospital resembled a naturally formed maze; no matter which way they turned, they remained trapped inside.
The patients grew anxious and restless, crying out incessantly. Those with mild psychiatric conditions became increasingly agitated, worsening their conditions.
Patients with severe psychiatric issues began exhibiting frightening behaviors.
In an instant, the entire Mental Hospital was like a disturbed hornet's nest. Chaos ensued as patients sought to attack the Nursing Staff, while the Nursing Staff aimed to restrain the patients. No one trusted each other anymore, and even Normal Persons became paranoid.
The line between the mentally ill and Normal Persons blurred.
"So what did you all do in the end?"
Zhou Zhisheng stood up, poured hot water for Ye Chenfeng, gesturing for him to continue drinking, then said, "We regrouped."
Ye Chenfeng felt cold and hungry; a cup of hot tea was indeed welcome. Moreover, it was good tea—clear and fragrant, with a lingering aftertaste.
"Regroup? How did you regroup?"
A shadowy smile crept across Zhou Zhisheng's face as he moved behind Ye Chenfeng. "We removed the defective parts and reassembled."
Ye Chenfeng couldn't quite grasp what Zhou Zhisheng had done to him; perhaps there was something in the tea. In any case, he felt dizzy and lightheaded, losing awareness of everything around him.
When Ye Chenfeng awoke again, he found himself in a cold, sterile operating room.
The walls were adorned with various instruments that were strictly forbidden in medical practice. He was bound tightly to an operating table. Beside the table lay an array of medical tools that, though unfamiliar to Ye Chenfeng, emanated a chilling aura of death.
These instruments were meant for disembowelment.
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