The torrent of experiences from the haunted building rushed back into Kuang Feifan's mind unbidden. What terrified him more was that, no matter how hard he tried, he could not calm himself. Wave after wave of fear crashed against his brain and heart, stiffening his entire body, seeming to lock up his ability to think. His eyes wide with terror, he pressed against the wall, glancing left and right, realizing he was standing in the middle of a pitch-dark corridor, the darkness on either side so dense it swallowed sight.

Suddenly, he spotted a faint, jaundiced light off to his right, flickering erratically in the gloom, like a ghostly will-o'-the-wisp, luring him into a trap. He yearned to move toward it, yet his body remained glued immovably to the wall, seemingly beyond his control. Just then, distinct footsteps echoed from the darkness.

Click, clack, click...

Kuang Feifan could feel with absolute clarity that something was approaching him slowly from his left.

He strained his eyes, staring into the pitch-black hallway, seeing nothing at all, only the footsteps registering in his ears, growing nearer, and nearer...

Click, clack, click...

The footsteps stopped directly in front of Kuang Feifan, as if something stood opposite him, scrutinizing him, yet he could perceive absolutely nothing. Before Kuang Feifan could react, an ice-cold hand suddenly clamped down on the wrist he had braced against the wall.

"Ah..." Kuang Feifan involuntarily cried out, his mind blank. Without a second thought, he yanked his arm free with all his might, immediately spun around, and fled toward the glimmer of light. He gave no thought to the danger awaiting him there; he only acted on instinct—to evade, to escape whatever unseen entity had materialized beside him.

He ran for an unknowable duration until a door abruptly materialized before him. Affixed above the lintel was a plaque bearing five large characters etched in blood-red—Intensive Care Unit. The characters looked as if they had just been painted with fresh lacquer, and the red substance seemed diluted, slowly dripping down the strokes of each character. It looked as if the whole inscription would soon blur into an indistinguishable mass. Beneath the plaque, streaks of red paint were already sliding agonizingly slowly, drop by drop, onto the floor.

Kuang Feifan reached out and pushed. The heavy door yielded with a low creak, swinging open. He plunged inside, and at the very instant he crossed the threshold, a drop of red paint landed on his cheek.

He was too shaken to notice at the time. Rushing in, he found the room brightly lit. He slammed the door shut behind him and surveyed the ward, only to discover the patient's bed was utterly empty—the patient was nowhere to be seen.

Kuang Feifan moved to the bedside and glanced at the medical chart hanging on the foot rail. In the section for the patient's name, one name was starkly written: He Shaoqing.

Kuang Feifan gasped. This was He Shaoqing's room, but where was the man? Could it be...

The door behind him let out another creak as it opened.

The sound was exceptionally harsh in the quiet room, lending it a chilling and uncanny atmosphere that made his heart seize. Kuang Feifan whipped his head around. There was no one near the door that had been pushed ajar. The door slowly closed, and the unhurried click-clack of footsteps sounded again, approaching from a distance, drawing nearer and nearer, until they halted right in front of him.

Something invisible was pursuing him!

The thought flared in his mind, and Kuang Feifan was filled with an nameless dread. Instinct took over, and he bolted from the room, plunging headlong into the corridor that seemed to stretch into infinity. In the deathly silent hallway, all Kuang Feifan could hear was the ragged sound of his own gasping breath and the relentless, life-threatening click-clack of the footsteps behind him. The sound seemed to match the speed of his run, yet gave the terrifying impression that whatever was following was drawing closer, catching up. Kuang Feifan even felt icy drafts sweeping across the back of his neck.

The distinct sound of the footsteps clung to him like a parasite, following his every move. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn't shake it; it seemed to be herding him along, until he finally spotted a pool of light spilling onto the floor ahead.

The light originated from a large ward room off to the left. A surgical table stood in the center, bathed in the cold, pale glow of the operating lamp above. A female nurse sat facing away from the door on the table, her lower legs visible beneath the drape, swinging back and forth in tandem.

Seeing the sudden appearance of a nurse, Kuang Feifan’s heart jolted. In this situation, he wasn't foolish enough to believe the nurse on the operating table was ordinary.

However, in the brief moment he stopped at the doorway, the footsteps behind him abruptly ceased. Simultaneously, he felt something press tightly against his back, exhaling cold air onto the nape of his neck.

Almost instinctively, he dashed into the operating room.

The nurse on the table heard his entry and slowly raised her head, twisting her body backward until her face was turned to face the newly arrived Kuang Feifan—her face rotated unnaturally, a full 180 degrees clockwise.

Beneath the nurse’s cap was a stark white face, etched with fine wrinkles, featuring eyes devoid of pupils. Kuang Feifan recognized the face instantly: it was that of the large-headed monstrous infant!

A chill ran down his spine. He hadn't expected to see that face again after escaping the haunted building.

"You don't seem very happy to see me," the thing suddenly said.

Kuang Feifan was so stunned he couldn't utter a word. The creature tilted its head, fixing him with its milky, white gaze.

"Do you want to see him?" the infant asked again, then rotated its head another 180 degrees clockwise. Kuang Feifan's eyes widened in horror. Behind the creature's head was another face—a face terrifyingly familiar.

He Shaoqing.

Except this was not the He Shaoqing he knew. His face was set in a smile—a stiff, bizarre, chilling smile, radiating sheer malice.

"Come find me," He Shaoqing said with that smile, unleashing a piercing, blood-curdling laugh that echoed chillingly through the room.

"Feifan, wake up, Feifan, you're dreaming, wake up quickly..." A familiar voice broke through the delirium threatening to consume Kuang Feifan. He blinked open his eyes. Bai Ru’s flawless, jade-like face instantly banished the hallucination, yet the feeling of terror remained lodged deep in his chest.

"I... I was dreaming?" Kuang Feifan asked weakly, his mind a fog of confusion. But the memories from the dream flooded back, and he reached out, clutching the hand Bai Ru had placed on his forehead, asking anxiously, "He Shaoqing, I saw his face..."

Bai Ru had just entered, seeing Kuang Feifan tossing and turning, assuming he was having a nightmare. She had rushed over to wake him gently. Seeing he was awake now, she quickly soothed him. "Look at the sweat on you! Don't worry, it was just a dream; there’s nothing to fear..."

As she spoke, she withdrew the hand Kuang Feifan was holding, pulled out a tissue, and began wiping the sweat from his forehead. Suddenly, she noticed a faint reddish mark on the left side of Kuang Feifan’s cheek. Intrigued, she wiped at it with the tissue, brought it closer to inspect, and then cautiously sniffed it. There seemed to be a faint scent of iron, though she couldn't be certain.

Though still rattled, Kuang Feifan noticed Bai Ru’s strange expression as she looked at the used tissue and asked, "What is it? Did you find something?"

Not wanting to burden his already fragile state, Bai Ru quickly covered up. "Nothing, the tissue is soaked. Let me get another one." She carefully placed the tissue into a small plastic bag, then pulled out fresh ones to wipe his face. Kuang Feifan quickly reached out to snatch the tissues from her hand. "I'm not immobile; I can do it myself."

Kuang Feifan was completely lucid now. When their hands met again over the tissues, both froze momentarily. Bai Ru pulled her hand back with a slight awkwardness, while Kuang Feifan stood foolishly holding the tissues he’d grabbed, momentarily forgetting what he intended to do, just holding his hand up motionlessly. A palpable awkward silence stretched between them; neither spoke for a moment.

After a long pause, Bai Ru finally broke the unnatural quiet, pursing her lips into a faint smile. She gently took the tissues back, continuing to wipe his sweat while whispering softly, "What are you doing, just holding it? Are you admiring a painting?"

Kuang Feifan's gaze inadvertently slid from her face down to the slightly parted neckline of her blouse as she leaned over, and he drifted off momentarily.

Bai Ru, sensing his gaze was unfocused, straightened up and asked, half-exasperated, half-amused, "What are you looking at?"

Kuang Feifan hadn't quite snapped back to attention. He murmured softly, "I always thought you looked better in black lace than in white..." The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his lapse, managed a sheepish grin, and clamped his mouth shut tight.

Bai Ru tossed the damp tissue onto Kuang Feifan’s face, chiding him, "Wipe your own sweat. Even when you're sick, you can't behave."

Perhaps it was the proximity of the beautiful woman, but Kuang Feifan felt his mind clearing and his strength slowly returning. Only the fiery pain in his throat persisted. As he wiped his sweat with the sodden tissue, he asked in a hoarse voice, "Is there... water?"

After drinking a full, large glass of water, Kuang Feifan felt as though he had been reborn. He let out a long sigh as Bai Ru helped him sit half-upright on the bed. He scrubbed his face vigorously with his hands, looked at Bai Ru, then at the IV needle taped to the back of his own hand. Only then did he completely accept that he had just experienced the night terrors and the corridor scene in a nightmare.

Bai Ru sat on the chair beside the bed and asked, "How do you feel?"

Kuang Feifan managed a wry smile. "I feel like I just got over a serious illness. What else? How is He Shaoqing right now?"

Bai Ru patted his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry. I checked on him before coming to see you. All his vital signs are stable. It’s probably because the poison was so deep that he hasn't woken up yet, but I believe he will be fine." Bai Ru’s voice held a soothing gentleness that calmed Kuang Feifan.

With his mind finally relaxed, Kuang Feifan caught a specific word in Bai Ru’s statement and couldn't help but ask, "Poison? You said He Shaoqing was poisoned? Then the wound..." He wasn't sure how to phrase the rest.

Bai Ru nodded. "Yes, he was poisoned. Feifan, the police will be here to take your statement. Do you want to tell them first, or tell me what exactly happened between you and He Shaoqing? Did you encounter something?"

Kuang Feifan answered without hesitation. "Tell you first, of course. I swore an oath in that small building: if I got out, you would be the first person I found."

"The small building?"

Kuang Feifan nodded. "Ru, I think I believe in ghosts now."