Translator: Cinder Translations
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"Doctor, don't scare me," the fatty said with a trembling voice, his face full of distress. "I may look sturdy, but it's just flab. I'm not good with fear."
Jiang Cheng glanced at him, perhaps recalling how delicious the food the fatty had cooked was, and decided to let him off the hook, not continuing the conversation.
Since teaming up with Jiang Cheng, the fatty had become much less nervous. After a short while, he was back to his lively self. "Doctor," he asked in a low voice, licking his lips, "do you think we'll enter a nightmare again after we fall asleep tonight?"
Nightmares were filled with peril at every turn. The eerie yet intensely realistic feeling they evoked sent chills down one's spine.
Jiang Cheng, who was busy hanging up his wet clothes, paused for a few seconds before replying, "Probably not. While our physical strength fully recovers after escaping the last nightmare, our mental energy doesn't."
The fatty understood what Jiang Cheng meant. The energy expended in the nightmares couldn't be restored as easily as their physical strength. If this went on, they would grow increasingly exhausted, eventually being drained to death by the nightmares.
From Fan Li and Sister Nuan, they had learned that though nightmares were terrifying, there was often a slim chance of survival, which didn't align with the usual rules of nightmares.
"That's good," the fatty let out a long breath, then added, "I was even thinking about staying awake tonight."
"Pointless," Jiang Cheng shook his head. "How many nights can you stay awake? When you finally doze off from exhaustion, entering the nightmare will be a death sentence."
The mention of "death" sent a shiver down the fatty's spine. He quickly clarified that he was just venting and had no intention of doing that.
As night deepened, neon lights flickered on in the distance. Through a half-open window, the bustling world outside could be seen. The fatty, resting his chin on his hand, stared out the window, lost in thought.
Reflecting on the bits and pieces of the nightmares made him appreciate the beauty of the real world even more.
Jiang Cheng lounged in an office chair, watching a horror movie and munching on fries dipped in ketchup. He invited the fatty to join, but the latter stubbornly refused.
After finishing the movie A Wicked Ghost, Jiang Cheng nearly drifted off to sleep.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the fatty curled up on the sofa, plugging his ears with an uncomfortable expression.
Noticing that Jiang Cheng was awake, the fatty, as if seeing his savior, released his ears and called out, "Doctor, what kind of movie were you watching? That ghost was way too scary."
Listening to his explanation, Jiang Cheng realized that the fatty had overheard a particularly eerie section of the soundtrack. He had tried to turn the movie off, but just happened to witness the ghost, Chu Renmei, appear on screen.
"The ghost you're talking about is Chu Renmei," Jiang Cheng explained. "She was a tragic woman from feudal society, and also the inspiration for the character in Lu Xun's The Lady of the Camellias."
The fatty automatically tuned out what Jiang Cheng said.
After shutting down the computer, the two went upstairs to sleep.
The fatty complained that it had been a bit cold last night, so Jiang Cheng found him a new quilt. Taking advantage of the last chance before Jiang Cheng entered the bedroom, the fatty told him that if he was scared after watching the horror movie, he could stay in his room for company.
Before he could finish speaking, the bedroom door slammed shut with a "bang," followed by the sound of the lock clicking.
Pouting with dissatisfaction, the fatty lay down, recalling how Jiang Cheng had advised him to wear clothes and shoes to bed just in case.
Seizing the sunny weather earlier in the day, the fatty had cleaned his shoes. While out shopping for groceries, he had bought himself a new pair of sneakers, which he was now wearing.
The studio was in a relatively remote location, and the night was very quiet.
Jiang Cheng habitually pulled the blanket up to his chin, breathing steady and even.
His body was different from that of ordinary people. He wasn't particularly sensitive to hot or cold, rarely got sick, and had a higher tolerance for pain.
Sometimes, he even felt like he was an emotionless tool.
He drifted into a deep sleep.
A strange melody echoed in his ears.
It wasn't classical, pop, or jazz. The tune didn't belong to any genre he recognized.
The sound seemed born from darkness.
Born from darkness, and returned to darkness.
Jiang Cheng felt as if everything was moving away from him. It was as though he had sunk into the depths of the ocean or entered an endless tunnel.
Despair. Only despair. Nothing else.
The crisp sound of something breaking rang out, like a black cloth being torn apart with brute force. Jiang Cheng suddenly woke up.
He found himself standing in the corner of the first floor of the studio, with a black iron door looming in front of him.
His body moved before his mind could react. He reached out and pushed the door open.
After a moment of dizziness, his feet found solid ground again, stepping on firm earth.
In front of him stood a building that resembled a school, though it wasn't large and its boundaries were visible at a glance.
Several buildings stood quietly under the afterglow of the setting sun, casting long gray shadows. The scene had a somewhat romantic quality.
Squinting at the sunset, Jiang Cheng estimated that it was around 4 or 5 in the afternoon in this world.
For the moment, there was no one else in sight, and the school gates were already closed.
Shielding his eyes from the harsh sunlight, he glanced at the school a few more times, then decisively turned and walked in the opposite direction.
(End of the Chapter)
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