Less than seven days.

Zhou Ying murmured to himself. The formation that Liu Di and Huo'er had labored over to construct had only lasted this long.

As the demon dissolved into ash, the entire formation lost its efficacy, collapsing into several talismans that fluttered down from the wall.

Zhou Ying stood in the middle of the room, momentarily at a loss. Although he had known this moment would arrive, he hadn't expected it to come so swiftly. Liu Di had more enemies than imagined; this was the only conclusion Zhou Ying could reach. Like all parents who spoil their children, he refused to accept the reality that the trouble was brought on by his own kin.

Just as the clump of ashes before him was swept away by the north wind, Nan Yu walked in.

She hadn't urged Zhou Ying these past few days, knowing that if there was any chance of staying, he would prefer his own home. But now that the shield protecting him was gone, Nan Yu had to shoulder her responsibility—a promise also made to Huo'er and Gui'er: to protect Zhou Ying until they returned.

"Let's go, I have surgery this afternoon," Nan Yu told Zhou Ying.

Zhou Ying nodded.

He paused for a moment before Huo'er's pile of toys, then transformed into a wisp of black mist, vanishing into the shadow at Nan Yu's feet.

"Zhou Ying, I'm so sorry to have to drag you along to the hospital, but my work simply won't allow me to leave," Nan Yu said quickly while walking down the hospital corridor. Anyone seeing her talking to the shadow beneath her feet would surely think her mind was unbalanced.

Zhou Ying shifted slightly within her shadow, remaining silent. Though stronger than the average Ying Mei (Shadow Demon) now, without a physical body, even the weakest demon could harm him, which was why Nan Yu insisted he hide in her shadow. Not only could Nan Yu help him deal with trouble, but the fiery essence of the thousand-year-old Zombie could also aid Zhou Ying in improving the quality of his cultivation. This way, Zhou Ying didn't need to worry about external factors; he only needed to focus on his practice. Therefore, whether he was in a hospital or somewhere else entirely, he didn't care.

Now, Zhou Ying often recalled the time when he had just become a demon, wandering the mountain forests with Huo'er. He was even weaker then than he was now, yet he feared nothing. Even when encountering powerful demons, what he and Huo'er considered was whether this unfamiliar creature could be eaten? Did it taste good? Instead of the present concerns: Is the opponent strong? Can I defeat them? Perhaps he had changed? He just didn't know if he had become more like a human.

"Zhou Ying..."

"Hmm."

"I believe Huo'er and Gui'er will be back soon."

"Mmm."

Su He knew what was quietly brewing in the city, something ready to erupt at any moment.

The humans on the street still bustled about their daily lives, moving according to their own rhythms. These slow-to-perceive creatures would never know what events were unfolding within their very city. Yet, no matter how much stronger demons were than humans, they remained merely passing guests dependent on the humans' dwelling place. Humans...

Su He was currently standing at the entrance of the Municipal Hospital. The crowds moving in and out were enacting the most genuine aspects of human life: birth, aging, sickness, and death. Watching them, it was hard for Su He to suppress the thoughts of fate and life welling up in his mind. He shook his head, driving these thoughts away; he hadn't come here to wax philosophical about humanity.

He shifted slightly on the tree where he was hidden, settling into a more comfortable posture, and continued to stare at the hospital.

After days of investigation and analysis, he had confirmed that Zhou Ying was hiding near Nan Yu. Zhou Ying likely understood well that Huo'er and Liu Di had countless enemies, and these enemies, seeing Zhou Ying's power greatly diminished, would unhesitatingly target their wrath upon him. Thus, only a few days after Liu Di and Huo'er left the city, Zhou Ying disappeared from their residence. During this time, several demons who had openly declared intentions to seek revenge upon him also vanished; no one seemed to care about their whereabouts or their ultimate fate anymore.

The demons of Lixin City speculated that Zhou Ying had three possible places to go after leaving home.

The first: Meng Shu's Illusionary Realm (Huan Jie). That space was an isolated existence created by Meng Shu, anchored by the presence of the ancient demon himself. Even if his enemies had a hundred heads, they wouldn't dare pursue and kill him there. However, Meng Shu was notoriously eccentric, and Zhou Ying had his own unique temperament. Whether Zhou Ying would willingly go to Meng Shu's place, and whether Meng Shu would be willing to accept him, were both uncertain.

The second: Monk Muyu's temple. Monk Muyu shared a deep bond with Liu Di. If Liu Di had left any final requests, Muyu would undoubtedly shelter and protect Zhou Ying. This old monk's power was unfathomably deep, and his two disciples were no slouches either (Stone Monk: Lao Na and Senior Brother Putuan truly only eat vegetarian food; only Master has achieved the state where wine and meat pass through the intestines while the Buddha sits in his heart.). No demon wished to provoke them, making it an excellent sanctuary. However, Zhou Ying practiced Daoist arts; hiding him in a Buddhist temple—who knew if he could stand it?

The third: Near Nan Yu. Although Nan Yu was naturally detached and kept to herself, the demons of Lixin City had repeatedly experienced her formidable nature in recent years. Especially those demons who, unaware, entered "her" hospital seeking to exploit the weak humans recovering there; the horrifying consequences they suffered upon dealing with her left nightmares in their minds. Zhou Ying and she shared a relationship that was hard to define; under such circumstances, the likelihood of him hiding near Nan Yu was the greatest.

After considerable effort, Su He confirmed this—Zhou Ying had absolutely followed Nan Yu into the hospital. However, Nan Yu's work schedule was very regular. Su He observed for a long time but never saw Zhou Ying leave when she did. Had he remained in the hospital after Nan Yu departed? Impossible; that would be waiting to become a target for his enemies. Or had Nan Yu used some method to get him out? Or was this all a trap set for the enemies who were plotting against him?

Su He mulled it over repeatedly in his mind, and the final conclusion was to wait a little longer, to watch further.

Meanwhile, on the back side of the hospital, opposite Su He's vantage point, Ji Mo was seated atop a building, also observing the activity within the hospital.

He had just seen Nan Yu walk through the courtyard from the Outpatient Department toward the Inpatient Wing, but she was utterly alone. Not even her shadow showed any anomaly. Had Zhou Ying not only failed to go home with her after work, but hadn't followed her even while she was inside the hospital? Or was his initial analysis flawed, and Zhou Ying wasn't hiding near Nan Yu at all? No, the source confirming Zhou Ying entered the hospital with Nan Yu was absolutely reliable, and he had been guarding the vicinity for several days, certain that Zhou Ying had not come out. Was this a setup? Or had Nan Yu used some method to conceal Zhou Ying somewhere?

The best way to locate Zhou Ying now, naturally, would be to enter the hospital slowly searching once Nan Yu left after her shift. However... Ji Mo watched a low-ranking demon, disguised as a human, cautiously peeking into the crowd waiting for registration: "Truly the most foolish method. Would Nan Yu not even have this minimal level of preparation?"

That little demon lingered for a long time in the registration hall before venturing further inside. It was evident he was reluctant, likely forced by stronger demons to gather information. This was a clever tactic: even if he was caught by Nan Yu, given he was coerced and weak, she probably wouldn't kill him. If he luckily escaped detection, he might gain some intelligence, however small?

Ji Mo was intensely interested in the little demon's fate, so he adjusted his range of vision, focusing particularly on him. But what disappointed Ji Mo happened: within ten minutes, the little demon was dragged out of the hospital, and the person doing the dragging wasn't Nan Yu, but Guan Guan Luo Tian, who worked in the profession humans found so bizarre—the idol star.

"Why did you steal from my manager?" Luo Tian snarled menacingly.

"I, I, I..." The little demon stammered in terror, unable to form coherent words. Luo Tian was a carnivorous demon, and the aura emanating from him when his eyes burned with killing intent and hunger while looking at a weak demon was terrifying. "I didn't steal..."

"Then what is that in your hand?" Luo Tian forcefully flipped the little demon's wrist. Indeed, a black leather wallet was clutched in his hand. In his fear, he had squeezed the wallet so hard it warped.

Ji Mo sneered. It was hardly difficult for a Guan Guan to give a subtle hint to a lesser demon, task him with something, and then use that as an excuse to deal with him. It seemed Zhou Ying’s situation, though perilous, wasn't entirely devoid of "friends" willing to step in on his behalf. However, likely to minimize their own danger, most would choose a roundabout method like Luo Tian's, finding an alternative pretext for their actions.

Sure enough, Luo Tian threatened the little demon for a moment, then, unexpectedly yet reasonably, let him go, turning back to walk into the hospital himself.

Ji Mo watched the small demon stagger away from the hospital entrance, sneered once more, and returned his attention to the hospital courtyard.

Nan Yu's office was always full of visitors. Zhou Ying, resting from his cultivation while residing in Nan Yu's shadow, quietly listened to her conversations with various people.

The hospital held the most patients, and Nan Yu, as a doctor, dealt with them most frequently. Thus, over the past few days, what Zhou Ying heard most often were human worries and fears about their physical conditions. The word "death," usually avoided in other settings, had become a common topic here. Regardless of fear, this word would eventually befall certain patients, delivered with a certain chilling taste as a cold fact spoken from Nan Yu's mouth.

"These are the patient's test results. Because the situation is not good, we informed the family first instead of the patient. Currently, there is no cure for this disease in the world. The only way to extend life is surgery, but the success rate is only about 70%. Even with successful surgery, the maximum survival time is no more than two years."

"No! This isn't true! Doctor, you must have made a mistake. My daughter is only seventeen; she can't possibly have this terminal illness! You must be mistaken!"

"These are the diagnostic results. If you have any doubts, we suggest you seek further confirmation at a major hospital in Beijing."

"...Yes, our medical equipment here is the best in the country, and the medicine we give the patient is imported from abroad—the best and most expensive of its kind. But the patient's own condition..."

"Doctor, as long as you can save her, we don't fear spending money; we'll save her even if it bankrupts us! Doctor, please! Save her! I and our child cannot live without him..."

"It is our duty as doctors to treat every patient to the best of our ability, but the patient's condition is very poor; the family should prepare themselves psychologically."

"Why is it like this? You've clearly taken so much money from our family, yet you still can't cure her! You quacks! You killed my wife!"

"Sir, please calm down. Your wife has cancer, and it was advanced when we discovered it. We have done our best to save her."

"You clearly told us at the beginning she could live for at least two or three more years! You liars!"

"Sir, please calm down; you are disturbing the other patients."

"Listen to me, all the doctors in this hospital are liars! Don't get treatment here; they treated my wife to death! Everyone, stop getting treatment here!"

"He's making a scene; call security!"

Zhou Ying stood by the window, watching the man being dragged away crying by security, shaking his head in confusion.

After the man disappeared down the corridor, Nan Yu sat down to treat another patient. Regardless of the patient she faced, her demeanor remained cold, and no matter what diagnosis she delivered, her expression always held a kind of impassivity. Zhou Ying was completely unaccustomed to this version of Nan Yu. In Zhou Ying's mind, Nan Yu was someone who deeply cherished humanity, which was why she chose to be a doctor. Zhou Ying hadn't expected her to face human life and death with such an attitude. He stood nearby, watching her treatment for a moment, then quietly slipped out through the dark corner of the wall.

Nan Yu watched his receding figure and sighed softly. This was the first time Zhou Ying had truly observed the hospital. He had visited many times before, but only now did he realize he had never truly looked at everything here.

Perhaps because he was currently just a wisp of a shadow, he could see more things he usually missed. Zhou Ying wandered aimlessly through the hospital, watching what seemed like the convergence of all human joys and sorrows in this one place. Unconsciously, he drifted further and further away from Nan Yu's office.

"Hey..." A person waiting in line to register, pretending to look at his phone, whispered low to the invisible Zhou Ying lurking in the shadow of the counter. "What are you doing here? I'm telling you, you have to be extremely careful in this hospital; there's a very powerful guy here, and if you’re not careful, you’ll be eaten." His eyes darted nervously around; he completely assumed Zhou Ying was an impudent, weak demon who had come to the hospital seeking easy prey. Really, living in Lixin City and not knowing the rumors about the Zombie in the hospital? With me this close, wouldn't I suffer collateral damage?

Zhou Ying couldn't discern the original form of this demon disguised as a human, but he strongly wanted to explain to the other party that Nan Yu didn't eat other demons. But as he moved closer to the demon, the demon nimbly snatched a wallet from the pocket of the woman standing in front of him, tucked it into his own coat, then tossed a parting remark at Zhou Ying: "I offered a good warning; don't regret it if you die!" before squeezing out the hospital doors and hurrying away.

Zhou Ying froze there. The demons he had encountered these past few days were either friends offering help, like Nan Yu, or enemies seeking vengeance. By the time he realized he had just met a well-meaning demon who was completely ignorant of his identity and the situation, the other party had long vanished.

At that moment, a woman's heartbroken wailing drifted from behind him: "Which damned soul is so despicable? This was the money my family worked hard to save for our child's treatment! ...Who stole our child's life-saving money? May they have a terrible end..." Zhou Ying straightened up and, faster than any human could perceive, melted into Nan Yu's shadow as she hurried toward them.

"It's chaotic here; anything can happen," Nan Yu said quietly, showing no sign of the panic and anxiety she must have felt when Zhou Ying left her range of perception.

"I'm sorry," Zhou Ying replied.

Nan Yu turned around and saw the weeping woman being gently ushered into the duty room by two security guards. Zhou Ying told her, "A demon stole her money. He also warned me to be careful, saying that if I misbehaved here, you would eat me."

Nan Yu gave a faint smile. "I know that Weasel demon; he's a professional thief who often comes here to steal small things."

"But..."

Nan Yu understood Zhou Ying's unspoken question and explained before he could ask: "He didn't use magic, and he didn't harm anyone; it was mere theft. There are many human thieves and con artists here too. I have never interfered with their behavior. If I only interfered with demons stealing, wouldn't that be unfair to the demons?"

Zhou Ying remained silent. He had always assumed Nan Yu cherished this hospital immensely, but her actions were different from what he had imagined. Nan Yu strictly adhered to the boundaries of humanity; though compassionate, she exerted only the fullest extent of her power within the capacity of a human doctor. She protected the hospital, but only guaranteed its safety from the hands of demons.

"You are very much like Liu Di," Zhou Ying finally commented.

"Thank you," Nan Yu replied, knowing that coming from Zhou Ying, such a statement was undoubtedly high praise.

While they spoke softly, more patients entered the hospital. In the distance, someone was shouting: "Dr. Nan! Has anyone seen Dr. Nan Yu? If you see Dr. Nan Yu, please report to the Intensive Care Unit immediately!"

Nan Yu rushed toward the voice, and Zhou Ying once again detached himself from her form. For some reason, he wanted to see what would become of the woman who had lost her money.

Zhou Ying slipped through a crack in the door into the duty room. Inside, besides the crying woman and the two security guards, was surprisingly a human Zhou Ying recognized. He was a young male doctor, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, whose baby face made him look somewhat like a shy student. Zhou Ying remembered his name was Tian Youjun. His wife was a Snake Demon, Meng Shu's ex-wife—Zhou Ying and Liu Di had gone through considerable trouble helping Meng Shu find his former lover who had since married a human. Because of this, he remembered the human he had met only once very clearly.

"Madam, please stop crying. Crying won't help when something like this happens; your child's illness is the priority. I have a few hundred yuan here; please take it to register your child's appointment first. The police will help find your money. Go take care of your child first..." Tian Youjun handed over all the money he had to the woman, earning her tearful gratitude that bordered on wanting to kneel and kowtow. After much gentle persuasion, he managed to get her to leave.

Being thorough in his kindness, Tian Youjun then found the doctor responsible for registration and pulled some strings, securing an appointment for the woman without her having to wait in line. Only then did he leave with a sigh, seemingly lamenting his limited ability to offer further assistance.

"Dr. Tian is truly kind-hearted; he helps anyone in difficulty."

"Go on, I think he just has money to burn. The money he donates in a month is more than he earns! It’s all because he married a rich wife. If I could find a wife who happily throws money around like that, I’d donate for fun every day too."

"You wish! Look at Dr. Tian, and then look at yourself—it’s not even a comparison!"

"Damn it, you think I haven't seen Dr. Tian’s wife? She looks like she just crawled out of the countryside. She’s miles below those little nurses who flock around Dr. Tian all day. If it weren't for her money, would Dr. Tian have married her?"

"I think you’re just saying sour grapes because you can't have them."

"..."

Zhou Ying listened to the two security guards gossiping behind Tian Youjun's back, then sprung up from the corner, slipping into the long shadow cast by the corridor railing, following Tian Youjun toward the patient wards. His curiosity about the hospital was growing stronger because the human emotions he witnessed here differed significantly from his own feelings over the years. He wanted to use this forced stay in the hospital as an opportunity to observe carefully; it might help him in his future endeavor of learning how to act like a human.

At the doorway of a patient room, he encountered Tian Youjun coming out, and Zhou Ying unhesitatingly leaped into his shadow. He was careful not to disturb the protective spell his wife had set up for her husband, quietly allowing Tian Youjun to carry him along.

At this very moment, at Tian Youjun's home on the other side of the city, Qu Xiaomei, who was coaxing a small baby to play with building blocks, looked up and frowned. But after thinking about it, she did nothing more and returned to playing with the child.

Tian Youjun’s assignment for the day was to make rounds in the wards, and Zhou Ying trailed him for the entire afternoon. When they returned to Nan Yu’s office, she was already waiting for him.

“Following Dr. Tian around is a good way to tour the hospital,” Nan Yu said, the moment she shed her white medical coat, the aloof aura that clung to her dissipated with it. “I’m off work. Do you want to go home, or come with me?”

“Can I stay here?” Zhou Ying asked, surprising even himself.

Nan Yu didn't press for a reason, instead pausing for a long moment before replying, “If you must stay, then I’ll switch my night shift with another doctor.”

Zhou Ying considered this. “Can’t I just stay by myself?”

“Your enemies will certainly figure you’d hide out here with me. If I leave the hospital… yes, they’ll assume you’re with me anyway.” Nan Yu gave a slight smile. “In that case, you’d best stick close to Dr. Tian Youjun, who’s on duty tonight. His wife employs quite rigorous protective measures for him; staying near him would raise your safety coefficient considerably.”

Watching Nan Yu suppress a smile, Zhou Ying could easily picture the methods employed by that girl from the district to guard her somewhat naïve husband. After all, she was Meng Shu’s former lover, and Meng Shu carried a deal of guilt over abandoning her. He had repeatedly offered compensation, and because of this history, the yaoguai of Lixin City generally avoided provoking this snake-woman, fearing Meng Shu might quietly intervene on her behalf.

He nodded. “I’ll try to stay with him.”

Nan Yu said nothing more before leaving the hospital; she hadn't shared her own plans with Zhou Ying. Zhou Ying, much like her, was not one to pry into what others chose to withhold. If it were someone like Liu Di, he would secretly tail them regardless, digging until he’d satisfied his curiosity.

Where could Liu Di and the others be now? Nan Yu stood in the hospital parking lot, gazing up at the sky. The starlight and moonlight above the city were frustratingly dim, so much so that even Nan Yu’s keen vision couldn’t locate the star that governed Zhou Ying’s fate.

What were the stars of other realms like? What kind of life existed under those alien constellations? All of Nan Yu’s knowledge about other worlds came from books, and Zhou Ying and Huo’er knew no more about those places than she did. Gui’er might have heard many things unknown to others from her elders, but even that knowledge remained theoretical. Only Liu Di… Zhou Ying had mentioned that he once traversed all ten realms searching for Mu Tingtao; he could certainly be called experienced. However, this time they were heading not for ordinary territory, but for the Celestial Emperor’s secondary capital. Never mind the Wuluo gods guarding the place, even the perils along the journey itself were not something a mere Earth Wolf, a half-baked Mountain Ghost, and an underage Bi Fang could easily overcome. Nan Yu wondered if Liu Di could lead them to what they sought. If not, it didn’t matter, as long as they returned safely.

Nan Yu silently offered a prayer to the heavens, but the vast expanse of stars remained dim, offering her no auspicious signs.

After standing for a moment, Nan Yu turned and walked briskly in the direction of Zhou Ying’s home, soon disappearing into the flow of people passing by.

Zhou Ying moved in and out of patient rooms with Tian Youjun.

Tian Youjun was not only a responsible doctor but also one who enjoyed meddling. He cared deeply not only for the patients in his own department but extended his benevolence to every corner of the hospital. Nearly every ward had someone receiving his help—some financially, others emotionally. In any case, he rushed tirelessly through the seventeen stories of the inpatient wing, offering a smiling face to everyone in need.

When Tian Youjun finished visiting the last required room and prepared to return to his office for a brief rest, Zhou Ying remained behind in that particular ward.

This room housed only one patient, and Zhou Ying stood before the bedside, observing the person with an expression of rare surprise. It wasn't because the patient was stunningly handsome, but because the man’s features were so utterly ordinary that they resembled his own human guise by a factor of eighty percent.

Zhou Ying had exerted tremendous effort to achieve his current form. As a Shadow Spirit (Yingmei), learning to take human shape was unimaginably difficult. He had endured countless sneers from Zhou Ju and spent endless days and nights to finally sculpt a passable face. He still remembered the strange sensation that had washed over him the first time he saw his transformed human face reflected in the river water—a rare occurrence for him. Thus, even after gaining the ability to shift his appearance at will and beginning to live among humans, he had chosen that initial visage as his enduring ‘self.’

Zhou Ying never expected that one day he would actually see this very face on a human being.

The face before him seemed slightly younger than the appearance Zhou Ying usually adopted; the eyebrows were thicker and darker (perhaps the only discernible difference). He looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old, his complexion slightly pale from suffering the illness, his mouth slightly open in sleep, his breathing heavy and labored.

Zhou Ying saw his name on the bedside chart: Zhao Fan. A name as plain as his looks.

What illness could he have? Zhou Ying wondered, circling the room once more.

This private room was better equipped than the others, featuring an en-suite bathroom, a television, and other amenities. On the room’s desk lay stacks of paper, paints, and unfinished canvases. Were it not for the glaring white sheets and the various bottles of medicine, this place would have resembled an artist’s bedroom.

Zhou Ying leaned closer to the desk to examine the drawings, but the young man suddenly coughed loudly, startling the accompanying relative. Zhou Ying swiftly vanished into the shadows near the foot of the bed.

“Fanfan, how are you feeling? Better?” The woman accompanying him, likely Zhao Fan’s mother, gently patted his back as she asked. Zhao Fan coughed for a long while before finally stopping. He took a sip of water from the cup his mother offered, rubbing his chest as he said, “It’s nothing, I actually feel much better these last few days.”

“Yes, the doctor said your condition is stabilizing more and more. Maybe you can be discharged before the New Year and celebrate at home.”

“Mhm!” Zhao Fan agreed happily. “Then I can go home and send my completed drafts to the publisher myself, instead of having Dad accidentally smudge them like last time.”

“Don’t talk about that now, get some sleep. The doctor said you need more rest. You always get so fired up whenever drawing comes up.”

“Mom, you should sleep too. You’ve been worn out these past few days.”

The mother and son settled down, each facing away from the other, their gazes revealing unconcealable sorrow.

Only when the room fell quiet again did Zhou Ying drift over to the desk to inspect the pictures.

The subject matter of the drawings consisted of people in peculiar, archaic clothing; some of their appearances even resembled yaoguai, sporting horns, tails, or wings. The men and women in the art were sometimes seated, playing music; sometimes locked in bloody combat with monstrous beasts; sometimes soaring freely in the sky. They all existed within a beautiful yet strange illustrated world. Their commonality was the intense determination and tenacity for life shining in the eyes of every character—be it person, bird, warhorse, or monster. That resolute refusal to yield sent a slight tremor through Zhou Ying’s heart.

During his life-or-death struggle with Yue Ronghuan, he had thought several times that he would surely lose, yet he, the weaker party, was the one who survived that deadly battle. His sole reason for victory was the despair within Yue Ronghuan; perhaps she no longer wished to live, leaving the victory to Zhou Ying, who absolutely refused to surrender his life. In these drawings, Zhou Ying saw that same emotion. This young man knew his fate, yet he refused to surrender; he wanted to live.

Zhou Ying sighed: Defeating a powerful opponent might be easy, but defeating an invisible, intangible sickness was extremely difficult. Over the years, he had watched many humans fall to disease despite their relentless struggle, regardless of how strong or mighty they were in life.

That’s why humans believe in fate… Zhou Ying mused, drifting out through the crack in the door.

Nan Yu stood in Zhou Ying’s living room for a moment. Darkness posed no issue for her, but she didn't know where to begin.

Gui’er had specifically entrusted her before leaving to look in occasionally, water the plants in the living room, regularly dispose of expired or spoiled food in the refrigerator, tidy the rooms, and wash the dusty bedsheets. She hoped that when she returned from the other realms after a long time, she wouldn't find the residence had turned into a “haunted house” under Zhou Ying’s neglect.

Upon arriving, Nan Yu realized how little she knew about Zhou Ying’s home; she had no idea where anything was stored. She rummaged around, unable to distinguish which rag was for wiping tables and which was for the floor. Even Zhou Ying and Huo’er probably couldn't answer this question, as Gui’er handled all the housework.

After finally making the entire space look somewhat presentable, Nan Yu leaned back on the sofa. This household gave her a strange sense of unfamiliarity. Before Gui’er arrived, she often visited Zhou Ying’s place, but now, even though Gui’er lived next door, Nan Yu often felt this was no longer just Zhou Ying’s home, leading her to visit less frequently. A feeling of helplessness filled her thoughts as she sat quietly for a long time.

Just as Tian Youjun was about to doze off, a call bell rang out. He leaped up by reflex, grabbing his white coat and pulling it on while rushing toward the ward. Zhou Ying slipped into his shadow, ready to follow. Several nurses were already visible in the hallway; they were all heading for the same room. The moment Zhou Ying entered, he was reminded of the drawings he’d seen earlier and the young man who looked like him. But now, his bedside was surrounded by doctors and nurses, various machines blinking with an eerie light. Tian Youjun urgently questioned the nurses around him about the patient's status, but the replies sounded grim. Furrowing his brow tightly, he joined the resuscitation efforts.

Zhou Ying couldn't diagnose the illness.

He had once read many books on human medicine, believing at one point that it would help him better understand humanity. However, his extensive medical knowledge had no practical application; he could still only judge the severity of a human illness by observing the vitality and soul of the person.

His life won’t continue for much longer, Zhou Ying thought.

The resuscitation effort slowly neared its end. Zhao Fan’s life had not yet concluded, and under the efforts of the doctors and nurses, he regained consciousness once more. Lying in bed, he looked like a pale puppet, but the light still shone in his eyes, much like the figures in his artwork.

“Is that so? You saw an incorrigible Yingmei wandering around the hospital…” Ji Mo said, picking up a bottle of wine and filling a large glass for the other party.

“Yes…” The one drinking with Ji Mo was the weasel who had kindly warned him about the dangers of zombies after spotting Zhou Ying that day. The weasel was already half-drunk, his eyes hazy. “He truly doesn’t know what’s good for him… No, wait, such a pathetic, low-intelligence yaoguai… maybe he doesn't even know what 'knowing what's good for him' means at all… Hahahaha…” He slapped his thigh, laughing.

“Here’s to it!” Ji Mo proposed, raising his glass. After draining their drinks, Ji Mo asked, “What did the Yingmei you saw look like?”

“A Yingmei… what else would a Yingmei look like?” The weasel laughed again. “Just that dark, black mass… Hahahaha, the appearance of a Yingmei—you must be drunk…”

Ji Mo forced a bitter smile. It was only natural to be ridiculed for asking a drunkard what a Yingmei looked like. If nothing unexpected happened, this Yingmei must have been Zhou Ying. He hadn't hidden under Nan Yu’s wing but was swaggering around the hospital on his own? Heh, maybe this was a tactic to mislead the enemy? The fact that the weasel saw the Yingmei leave the hospital alive must mean they deliberately spread that news to lure any yaoguai hostile to Zhou Ying into rushing into the hospital, only to come out carried on a stretcher (or perhaps not even come out, maybe ending up directly in the hospital morgue’s freezer, waiting for Huo’er to collect the merchandise).

The weasel was happily drinking, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through the mind of the host who was so generously treating him to food and drink. Ji Mo placed enough money on the table to cover the meal and quietly slipped away from the hotel. Not long after he left, the weasel, whose eyes had been hazy with drink, suddenly sat upright. He glanced in the direction Ji Mo had vanished, pursed his lips, and pulled out his phone to dial: “Old Lu, yes, it’s me… You were absolutely right, someone did come asking me about it. You truly have divine foresight… Yes, I answered exactly as you instructed… Yes… But do you think this is sufficient? Will it perhaps… Yes, yes, I understand… Hmm, I’ll leave right after dinner and hide at my relative’s place in Donghai City for a few days…”

Hanging up, the weasel leisurely finished every last bit of food on the table, then staggered out the door…

“This is the hospital,” Su He said, pointing toward the distant main gate to the ghost hovering beside him. “Do you remember the appearance of the Yingmei I showed you? Go inside, find him, see where he is, who he’s with, and what he’s doing, then come back and tell me. Remember, whatever you do, don’t startle him or anyone near him.”

Although the ghost’s form was ethereal and indistinct, one could still recognize him as a middle-aged man. His expression was one of extreme panic and confusion—typical for a recently deceased soul that still retained some consciousness. Despite his reluctance to let go of life and his worry about his current state, the middle-aged man nodded at Su He: “I understand. I’ll handle the job for you, but what about your promise to me…”

“Don’t worry. Getting your son into a good university? That’s a small matter, I’ll handle it,” Su He promised casually.

The middle-aged man was naturally half-believing, half-skeptical. But he was dead now; his greatest wish in life was to create a better environment for his son, hoping he could get into a good university, secure his future, and not end up like him—a lifetime of toil only to be a low-level subordinate bossed around until death. “My son has always hoped to get into H University,” he said, floating forward a little before looking back.

“Got it, got it. You’ve said it a hundred times,” Su He waved his hand impatiently.

The middle-aged man didn't know if Su He was placating him, nor did he know what terrifying scenes awaited him inside this hospital, and certainly, he didn't know how terrifying the dark, humanoid shadow was—the one Su He had shown him in an illusion—emanating from this seemingly ordinary man who claimed not to be human. Yet, he decided to try, to see if he could still do something for his son after death. Even if he failed… he was already dead, wasn't he? He cast one last look at Su He and floated into the hospital with a sense of resignation.

That ghost is annoyingly verbose.

Su He threw the cigarette butt he was holding onto the ground and ground it out heavily. If it weren't for the rarity and difficulty of finding ghosts who retained their past consciousness, he would have ditched this one long ago for someone else. If it weren't for the matter concerning Zhou Ying, he would have sought cooperation from Jiang Rong—one could imagine how readily that female ghost would agree: “What? You’ll trade three drug dealers’ lives? Deal!”

The middle-aged man’s ghost had entered the hospital. For a place like a hospital, ghosts often outnumbered the living; one extra wouldn't draw attention (in reality, even if people wanted to notice, most lacked the ability). He should be able to find out about Zhou Ying.

A small sphere of light appeared in Su He’s hand. He tossed it idly, then, as a prank, threw it toward a student-like person walking below. This was a spell that could drastically improve a human’s memory retention over thirty days. If the ghost’s son wasn't too dull or completely uninterested in studying, with two months left until the college entrance exams, two such spells would be enough to help him pass an exam based mostly on rote memorization.

It was laughable that the ghost didn’t realize how simple his request was for a yaoguai. If Su He were the kind of reckless yaoguai, he would have simply stolen an acceptance letter and written in a name to solve everything. Then again, being a parent was hard; even dead, their minds were consumed by their children. Su He knew his own nature; even if the ghost failed his commission, he would still help his son—as long as the situation didn’t get too messy.

Thinking this, Su He stretched lazily and lay back on the tree branch.

“No more drawing. Didn’t the doctor tell you your illness requires rest?” the nurse said while trying to stop Zhao Fan from putting pen to paper.

Zhao Fan offered a wry smile and shook his head at the nurse. “Just let me finish this one last piece; it’ll be done in a moment.”

“You always say that, but once this one is done, there’s always the next. It never ends,” the nurse complained. “In any case, your illness demands rest. Give me the pen.”

Zhao Fan hesitated for a moment before the pen was abruptly snatched from his hand. Watching the nurse stow his drawing supplies in the cabinet, Zhao Fan gave up the argument. He sat up and looked out the window, but as soon as the nurse tidied the room and left, Zhao Fan opened the cabinet, retrieved his supplies, and resumed work on the watercolor painting.

Zhou Ying watched him stealthily from the shadows near the bedside, observing the picture of a minotaur swinging a sword toward the sky.

The room was quiet, broken only by the shasha sound of the brush meeting the paper. But moments later, Zhao Fan suddenly seized the painting, muttering, “His eyes are full of fear! I’ve painted death into it! Damn it! I’m not afraid of death! Yes, I am not afraid, I will not be defeated!” Saying this, he crumpled the painting into a ball and threw it heavily to the floor.

Zhou Ying glanced at the discarded painting and murmured to himself, “So he is afraid too.” Instantly losing interest in the young man, he quietly drifted out of the ward.

When his mother entered the room, Zhao Fan was lying motionless on the bed. Several unfinished works lay on the floor—some crumpled into balls, others torn into shreds. She picked up the paper balls one by one, gently smoothing them out beneath Zhao Fan’s easel, then silently approached the bedside and pulled the blanket up for him.

“Mom, I wasn’t sleeping,” Zhao Fan sat up, his eyes visibly red and swollen from crying. He forced a smile. “Just feeling uninspired, restless.”

“If you can’t draw it, don’t force it. Which great master ever forced a masterpiece into existence? You need rest now. Once your strength is back, who can stop you from drawing as much as you want?” his mother said, deliberately ignoring the tear tracks on his face as she gathered his art supplies.

“Mom, how many times have I told you? I want to be an illustrator, not a ‘great master.’”

“It’s all the same, the most important thing is that you enjoy it.” His mother smiled. “Your father and I discussed it. Your future is yours to decide. Since you love drawing so much, we’ll send you to art academy. If you’re willing, your father can even send you abroad to study—France, America, anywhere. Your father can certainly afford that much.”

Zhao Fan’s eyes lit up at her words, but the light immediately dimmed. He lowered his head and murmured softly, “Mm.”

His mother watched him settle down and secretly wiped away the tears tracing her own cheeks.

Zhou Ying stared, startled, as the ghost drifted from one patient room to the next. Apart from Jiang Rong, this was the first time Zhou Ying had seen such a ‘perfect’ spirit. But seeing him bustling in and out, Zhou Ying wondered if he was searching for something he had lost, or if he had even realized his own death. The flaw of such spirits, burdened by too much retained consciousness, was their difficulty in accepting that they were gone; many clung to the mortal world, eventually becoming Yāoguǐ (demon ghosts).

Zhou Ying wondered if such a spirit fell within Nan Yu’s protective jurisdiction.

Zhou Ying knew that Nan Yu would mercilessly eliminate any Yāoguài (monsters/demons) who came to the hospital to feed off the patients. But what if a spirit decided to harm the people here? Spirits were human in life, and Nan Yu usually didn't interfere with human actions. But once dead, they became ghosts, and ghosts were... As Zhou Ying contemplated this, he surprisingly felt a headache, despite having no physical body.

Unknowingly, he had followed the ghost around the corridor once. The spirit hadn't fully adapted to its new state. It turned to float toward the stairs, intending to search the next floor, but as it turned, it froze dead in its tracks, seeing the target it sought—the black, shadow-like monster it had seen in an illusion—clinging to the wall less than a meter behind it.

Zhou Ying hadn't expected the other party to suddenly turn. He hadn’t decided what to do yet and stood there, unsure how to proceed.

The middle-aged man’s ghost saw the human-shaped shadow he was looking for right before him, yet felt none of the relief of a mission accomplished. How terrifying this monster must be; even the one who claimed not to be human dared not provoke him, forcing this ghost to sneak around scouting his movements. Now, running head-on into him, the consequences were unimaginable, weren’t they? He was dead anyway; he had nothing left to lose, but his son...

Zhou Ying saw the ghost staring fixedly at him and assumed the spirit was angry about being followed. But since he was indeed following him, Zhou Ying stood dumbly, not knowing how to explain himself.

Thus, a ghost and an Yǐngmèi (shadow phantom) stood in the hospital corridor, staring wide-eyed at each other. Medical staff, patients, and their families passed right through their bodies without noticing, yet neither knew what their next move should be.

What will this monster do next? Will this monster do this to me? That? (All sorts of terrifying images spontaneously generated in his mind.) Will this monster retaliate against me just for following him? Worse, what if he can find my family...?

The middle-aged man’s ghost spiraled further into fear the more he thought about it, until he could no longer bear it. He let out a piercing scream and fled for his life. Zhou Ying watched him blindly rush into Zhao Fan’s room. After a moment’s thought, he followed.

The middle-aged man’s ghost fled into the room, forgetting that as a spirit, he could simply pass through the window. He darted anxiously around the room, terrified the monster would catch up and trap him like a turtle in a jar. Seeing a youth sleeping on the bed, he lunged toward it, intending to hide momentarily, but his body seemed drawn by an unseen force, causing him to plunge right into the youth before vanishing atop him.

He actually possessed the youth! This counts as harming a human, Zhou Ying thought blankly. The sleeping youth frowned slightly. Zhou Ying’s figure flickered, and then he too vanished into the boy’s dream.

Zhao Fan knew clearly that he was dreaming, because only in dreams, since falling ill, did he escape the fatigue that permeated his whole body, only in dreams could he do what he loved without restraint.

Now, he was painting a massive canvas in his dream. In this dream, he seemed to have become the most accomplished illustrator, sought after by writers at home and abroad who wished for his art to illuminate their works. As Zhao Fan mixed his favorite colors, he suddenly noticed a figure nearby.

“Little brother, let me hide here, just for a moment…” the middle-aged man’s ghost pleaded, trembling. Though this youth’s life might be short, his Yángqì (life force) was strong enough to easily throw him out of the dream.

“Who are you? Are you human or ghost?”

“I, I am… I am…” The ghost stammered a few times, lowering his head with a crestfallen expression. If he told the truth, the youth would surely be frightened and cast him out. But he had been an honest man in life and hadn't learned to lie after death; he didn't know how to tell this boy.

“You’re a ghost, aren’t you?” Zhao Fan pressed.

The ghost nodded helplessly.

Joy flashed across Zhao Fan’s face. He stood up and asked, “You’re really a ghost? That’s wonderful, truly wonderful!” For some inexplicable reason, hearing of the ghost’s existence didn't frighten him; instead, he spun around excitedly.

“What’s with you…” The middle-aged man’s ghost was about to ask this teenager, who was about the age of his own son, what was going on, when a voice sounded from behind him. “You shouldn't enter a human’s dream, especially one suffering from a terminal illness. Your Yīnqì (negative/death energy) will shorten his life.”

The ghost whirled around in alarm and saw a young man standing behind him. He stared in astonishment, looking from the youth, to the young man behind him, and then back to the youth… Were there two people or one? How could they look exactly the same? He was utterly confused, failing to realize that Zhou Ying, appearing in his human form in the dreamscape, was the very monster that had terrified him. Still, he understood the reprimand: entering a human dream as a ghost could harm the human’s lifespan. He had absolutely no intention of hurting this boy resembling his son, so he quickly explained, “A black, shadowy monster was chasing me, that’s why I had to hide in here! He’s terrifying! He might dismember me, eat my family, and…”

Zhou Ying wasn't sure if the ghost was talking about him, but if there were other Yǐngmèi present, they likely wouldn't be interested in dismembering a mere ghost or eating his family.

The middle-aged man’s ghost kept rambling: “That terrifying monster, so vicious and bloodthirsty, will surely—”

Zhou Ying interrupted him. “Is the shadow monster you speak of me?” He then reverted to his true form.

The middle-aged man’s ghost let out an incomparably miserable shriek and vanished before Zhou Ying like a wisp of smoke. When Zhou Ying tried to sense his location again, he found the spirit had shot out of the hospital, fleeing desperately toward the distance, ignoring the first rays of dawn about to break in the eastern sky.

Am I truly that terrifying? Zhou Ying wondered for the first time. In the past, monsters fled when they saw him because Huo’er stood atop his head. But this time...

“You are…” The youth Zhao Fan’s voice came from behind. Zhou Ying had been so occupied speaking with the middle-aged ghost that he forgot the true owner of this space was watching.

Zhao Fan watched Zhou Ying coalesce into a human form from the essence of his spirit, and curiously reached out to touch his face. “Are you my shadow? Or is there a mirror here so I can see what I will look like in the future?”

Zhou Ying raised a hand to stop the touch. “I am not your shadow, and this is not a mirror.”

“Is that so?” The youth tentatively retracted his hand, looking around and murmuring to himself, “Where is this place? Is this not my dream? And who are you? Could it be… could it be that I’m already dead? Are you actually my soul!” As the possibility of his death crossed his mind, a flicker of sadness and resignation crossed the youth’s eyes, but he quickly calmed down, as if accepting death wasn’t so hard after all.

“I am not your soul, and you are not dead yet. This place… is your dream, I suppose,” Zhou Ying said, waving a hand toward the boy. “I had no intention of disturbing you; I came only to drive out the ghost who entered your dream. Please, go back to sleep.” Zhou Ying turned to leave.

The youth blinked in confusion, but just as Zhou Ying was about to detach from his mind, he called out, “Wait! Then… are you another version of me, right? I heard that when people are close to death, they can see their own souls, the hidden selves deep inside.” The youth said this with a hint of excitement.

Zhou Ying shook his head; he didn't quite understand what the youth was saying.

“Let’s chat!” The youth smiled brightly. “Since we’ve met, can we talk for a bit?”

Zhou Ying shook his head again. As he prepared to withdraw from the youth’s dreamscape, he suddenly sensed a strange fluctuation, as if a Yāoguài had just entered this hospital room. His movement instantly halted.

A voice traveled through the youth’s dreamscape into Zhou Ying’s ears: “Zhou Ying, I know you’re here. I don’t entirely dislike you, so whether you stay in the hospital or follow my husband for protection, I can tolerate it. But don’t drag trouble onto my husband! This is a warning! Otherwise…”

Zhou Ying recognized the voice as Qu Xiaomei’s. It seemed the middle-aged ghost had gotten too close to Tian Youjun, attracting the attention of his fiercely protective wife. “I was merely planning to follow him to observe this hospital.”

“I hope so,” Qu Xiaomei huffed lightly, and her presence vanished.

Female snake demons are deeply devoted—Zhou Ying had heard Gui’er tell the story of a white snake and a human man. How would Qu Xiaomei’s husband react if he knew his wife was a snake? However, most human-demon couples Zhou Ying knew lived harmoniously.

The youth watched Zhou Ying stand there momentarily lost in thought, misinterpreting his pause. He tilted his head and smiled at Zhou Ying. After a while, he shrugged. “Honestly, I don't know what to say either.”

Zhou Ying looked at him wordlessly.

Time ticked by as the two sat in silence.

When a human pushed the door open, Zhou Ying recognized Tian Youjun and quickly slipped out of the youth’s dream, sinking into Tian Youjun’s shadow.

Zhao Fan slowly opened his eyes. Seeing who it was, he said, “Dr. Tian, I had a strange dream just now.”

Tian Youjun smiled, patted his head, inquired about his condition, gave a few instructions, and then left. The youth sat on the edge of the bed, resting his chin in his hand, beginning to recall the dream.

Days passed one after another. Zhou Ying had given up counting how long Huo’er and the others had been gone, but the exact number of days since their departure automatically registered in his mind every morning.

“One hundred and thirty-six days…”

Zhou Ying murmured to himself. Since he and Huo’er were born into this world, he had never been separated from his child for this long. He wondered if Huo’er was eating enough in the Otherworld? Was it sleeping soundly? Had it caused trouble? As a father, Zhou Ying’s worry for his son was no less than any other father’s, and his son required a thousand times more concern than others. Could Liu Di manage it? Could Liu Di bring them back safely? Could Gui’er adapt to the Otherworld? Was Huo’er beginning to miss home? Huo’er had no patience for anything; it must already be tired of the journey in the Otherworld...

Zhou Ying’s thoughts circled and always returned to Huo’er.

Nan Yu watched Zhou Ying sigh softly, a faint smile touching her lips. Zhou Ying sighing was a rare sight indeed.

“Huo’er and the others will be back soon. Wasn't Li Li here a few days ago, bringing their letter? They are already very close to Mount Qingyao and should start their return journey soon.” The fact that they had the leisure to send a messenger with local specialties from the Otherworld suggested their journey had been relatively smooth, which relieved Nan Yu greatly. Once they reached Mount Qingyao, regardless of success or failure, they would return quickly. She trusted that with Liu Di there, they wouldn't do anything reckless.

Tian Youjun rushed in, setting a thick stack of patient files on the desk, then quickly grabbing another stack and rushing out. Zhou Ying seized the opportunity, entering his shadow and following him. Nan Yu shook her head. Zhou Ying had recently developed an increasing fascination with observing the humans in the hospital, often following the busy Dr. Tian around the wards. Being able to observe humans in this state must be beneficial for him, after all, wasn't his dream to draw closer to humanity?

A presence descended from above the hospital, striking Nan Yu like a bolt of lightning. She immediately stood up.

“Dr. Nan… Huh?” A nurse walking down the long hospital corridor was about to greet Dr. Nan when she suddenly realized the corridor was empty where she stood—because her location led to the rooftop platform, a place no one usually went. “Oh dear…” She shrugged and pulled her collar tight. Had she seen that thing? The legends about that in the hospital were terrifying enough. With that thought, she hurried toward a more crowded area.

Nan Yu arrived on the roof. A man in black stood waiting, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Who are you?”

The man in black did not answer but instead said, “I want that Yǐngmèi. Hand him over.”

Nan Yu knew this was another Yāoguài coming for Zhou Ying. Most minor spirits used stealth and sneak attacks, but stronger ones like this challenged directly. “How could I hand over my friend to you?” Nan Yu replied calmly. At the same time, she flipped her wrist, and the wooden broken sword appeared in her hand.

The man in black gave her a cold smile. “Fighting here, aren't you afraid of hurting humans?” It seemed he was well-informed about Nan Yu’s disposition.

“If you have the skill to do so…” Nan Yu returned a faint smile. She had already anticipated that opponents might use the patients here to threaten her, so she had prepared beforehand.

The man in black looked at her but didn't rush to act. “Let’s make a wager. If I can kill one human in your hospital within fifteen minutes, you hand over the Yǐngmèi to me. If I fail, I leave immediately and never bother you again.”

Nan Yu raised an eyebrow and smiled. “If you win, I won't gamble with my friend’s life. If you lose, you leave your life here!”

This Yāoguài had it too easy: if he won, Nan Yu would give up Zhou Ying; if he lost, he expected to just walk away. He probably assumed that because he heard Nan Yu was reclusive and kept to herself, he could easily take advantage of her in a wager.

Seeing Nan Yu’s resolute and unconcerned attitude, clearly showing she didn't take him seriously, the man in black laughed heartily. “Fine! I’ll kill you first, and then I’ll go find that Yǐngmèi!”

Nan Yu bowed to him in the manner of Daoist etiquette. “Please.”