After changing, I went straight to the doctor's office, where Wang Jue was sitting, flipping through that stack of magazines. Seeing me enter, he put the magazine down, stood up, and led me into the examination room.

Another CT scan, another blood draw, yet another psychological evaluation—I finally wrapped up all the procedures. Back in my room, before I could even settle in, he was already back with his notebook.

“The blood test results won't be ready until tomorrow, but we have the CT and psychological evaluation results now. I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Please go ahead,” I sat up straight, not daring to look away, adopting the posture of someone prepared for an interview.

“I’ve read your medical file; you were admitted here for schizophrenia. Did you have a habit of reading ghost stories before?”

“No, I rarely read books.”

“And for the past few days, you’ve been reading the supernatural stories in this magazine?”

“Yes, Wenshu sometimes reads them aloud to me.”

“Patients with schizophrenia have a tendency to be easily startled. If they are exposed to ghost stories, horror films, or go to places that easily incite terrifying delusions, an episode can be triggered very easily, especially for severe cases…” Stopping here, Wang Jue paused, thinking for a moment before continuing, “When I first saw your chart, something struck me as odd; you don't present like a typical patient. It’s normal for a healthy person to have psychological reactions after a major shock. The only thing that remains inexplicable is your insistence that you saw two people who don't exist and a student who wasn't even on campus at the time. That was the primary basis for the hospital’s final diagnosis of schizophrenia. That judgment was made under the premise that they do not believe in any paranormal phenomena. However, many years ago, I had a patient with an experience strikingly similar to yours. The hospital was adamant he had schizophrenia, and eventually, because he couldn’t be discharged, he used a broken toothbrush to sever his carotid artery in the restroom and committed suicide. I don’t want that to happen again, which is why I arranged these emergency checks today—to confirm if your current state is within a normal range. Once the lab results are in tomorrow, we will schedule a full panel consultation. If everything is normal then, we will consider releasing you. But that requires the consent of your guardian.”

After that long speech, I was so thrilled I nearly jumped up! The nightmare was finally ending; I could return to the home I dreamed of. I’d rather be stone-drunk in my own house, clinging to the toilet bowl, vomiting up my guts, than sit here soaking up the sun. My home, my bed, my toilet, my desk—everything felt so warm. Big sister would surely take a few days off just to stay by my side. We’d go for walks together, travel together, and crouch by the fish tank watching Nemo the clownfish eat worms. I’d buy a miniature poodle from the pet market as a birthday gift for her. And Wenshu, I’d visit her often, invite her out for dinner on weekends, and hide flowers beneath her windowsill beforehand, so she’d get a huge surprise when she opened the window. Finally, I’d present a silk banner to Wang Jue, praising his superb medical skills.

I was lost in this daydream, grinning stupidly in the chair. What was truly earth-shattering news? This was it! Once I’m out, I must uncover every detail about that Li Xiaoshu; every bit of suffering I endured, she will pay back in kind!

For the next few days, I busied myself organizing my belongings, waiting for the hospital’s discharge notice. But a whole week passed with no word, and Wang Jue seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth—impossible to find.