Translator: Cinder Translations
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Even after accompanying Jiang Cheng back from the client's house, Fatty's mind remained a muddled mess. He snuck a glance at the doctor, who was intently battling with a plate of sweet and sour fish, his throat involuntarily rolling in a gulp.
This man isn't human.
At least, not someone Fatty could comprehend.
After dinner, Jiang Cheng unexpectedly rolled up his sleeves and began tidying up the dishes.
This startled Fatty, who was standing nearby. "Doctor," he exclaimed, rushing to stop him, "What are you doing?"
It made him feel like his existence in the household had lost its only purpose.
"After I'm done cleaning up, go to sleep," Jiang Cheng instructed, then added thoughtfully, "We'll sleep together. Remember to set an alarm and wake me up at midnight."
"So late? Are you planning to go out?" Fatty asked in confusion.
But he was used to Jiang Cheng not explaining himself. After tidying up briefly, the two headed upstairs to rest.
Fatty initially thought he could sleep in the bedroom, so he had even changed into freshly bought clean pajamas.
However, Jiang Cheng stared at his new sleepwear for a while, clicked his tongue, and then closed the bedroom door, leaving Fatty dazed in the living room.
Fatty's first rule for survival was to always follow the doctor's instructions.
His good habits from the nightmares had carried over to real life. He meticulously set two alarms before lying down to sleep. Half-asleep and half-awake, the alarm startled him.
Smacking his lips to wake himself, he went to knock on Jiang Cheng's door. To his surprise, the door wasn't locked. A gentle push opened it.
Not daring to barge in, he stood dutifully at the doorway.
"Doctor," he craned his neck and called softly, "It's time. Are you awake?"
Jiang Cheng lay flat on the mattress, peaceful as a corpse.
"No," he replied without opening his eyes, only his lips moved. "I'm still savoring it."
Fatty: "…Doctor, is joking around this amusing to you?"
But Fatty wisely realized Jiang Cheng must have something important planned for this hour.
Swallowing, he tentatively asked, "Are you expecting someone to come?"
Jiang Cheng remained serene.
"A client?" Fatty continued along the line of thought.
Then his pupils shrank.
What kind of client wouldn't visit during the day but would sneak over at midnight?
Fatty's mind instantly jumped to the "handbook of wealthy women's preferences" on the case rack.
Pfft!
He meant the "wealthy women's medical diagnosis notes."
Most of their ailments flared up at midnight, driven by loneliness and boredom.
His gaze toward Jiang Cheng subtly shifted.
Jiang Cheng didn't care what Fatty thought. He threw off the blanket and sat up slowly before getting off the mattress and standing.
Then, right in front of Fatty, he took off his pajamas and changed into a light, sporty outfit.
Fatty suspiciously stared at him, slowly catching on.
His eyes widened as he exclaimed, "Doctor, you're not planning to… again tonight?"
"Have you had enough sleep?" Jiang Cheng glanced at him while tightening his shoelaces, interrupting what Fatty was about to say. "If you've rested enough, don't sleep again tonight."
"But we just got out of a nightmare!" Fatty was on the verge of a breakdown.
"Relax," Jiang Cheng said while pulling out a yellowed newspaper from his previous clothes' pocket. After a careful inspection, he tucked it away securely. "I'm not taking you with me this time."
"But, Doctor, that's not the point—whether you're taking me or not—"
"Enough," Jiang Cheng climbed back into bed, sighing with satisfaction as he nestled into the lingering warmth. Pulling the blanket up to his chin, he calmly said, "I'm going to sleep now."
Fatty knew he couldn't argue with Jiang Cheng, so even though he wanted to stop him, he eventually gave up. Perhaps the doctor had his own plans.
"Be careful, Doctor," he finally reminded. After some thought, he added, "And this time, don't try to save anyone. Just look after yourself."
"Got it," Jiang Cheng closed his eyes slowly. "Fatty, close the door behind you. I'm sleeping."
In the darkness, Jiang Cheng's breathing was steady and even.
It was a comforting sound.
Gradually, he really did fall asleep.
In his dreams, he saw himself slowly standing, descending the stairs to the first floor, and pushing open a pitch-black iron door once more.
When he opened his eyes, the scene before him had changed. He was in a cramped space.
An old, dim oil lamp flickered above him.
Whether due to the wind or the fuel, the flame wavered uncertainly.
The ceiling was very low, and in the dim light, he could see cobwebs all around. Thankfully, he didn't see any spiders lurking yet.
He hated those hairy creatures with multiple legs.
The space was low, dark, and carried a peculiar smell that he found familiar.
Slowly, he lowered his head, confirming his current location.
"…"
He was in an extremely cramped and filthy bathroom.
Not only was it cramped, but it was disgusting.
The walls were splattered with mysterious yellow stains.
In front of him was a flimsy wooden door. The lower part of the door bore numerous black burn marks.
Holding his breath, he pushed the door open and stepped out.
After a few steps, he opened another green-painted wooden door, finding himself in what seemed to be a lobby.
The space was about 100 square meters.
The floor was dark—whether cement or some special material, he couldn't tell.
The furniture was equally dated. A nearby table was cracked, stained with grease that could never be cleaned off.
From what Jiang Cheng remembered, he had never been to a place like this. Such a setting only appeared in old TV dramas or films from the '70s or '80s, complete with vintage filters.
It seemed this time, his journey spanned decades.
Standing there, he took a brief look around. This appeared to be a mid-sized inn, with this floor functioning as its restaurant.
He quickly spotted the inn's name in a prominent spot.
Anping Inn.
With the environment confirmed, the next step was to meet up with his teammates for this mission.
They were likely also in this inn.
There weren't many diners—only three out of a dozen tables were occupied.
Scanning the area, Jiang Cheng noticed that everyone was focused on eating, paying him no mind.
He headed toward a spot where a white curtain acted as a partition for what appeared to be the inn's sole private room.
Pulling the curtain aside, he immediately felt six or seven gazes land on him.
Unperturbed, Jiang Cheng entered, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
The people inside were dressed distinctly out of place for this era, just like him, clearly from decades into the future.
Counting Jiang Cheng, there were no more, no less—five men and three women.
(End of the Chapter)
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