When I returned after showering and looked into the fish tank, the stinking salted fish was long gone.

I chuckled inwardly, watching the Shèn in the tank, noticing new white spots emerging on its back—a clear sign that it had absorbed sustenance.

Taking it out of the tank for a closer look, I found traces of white foam around its mouth; undeniable evidence of its secret feast.

I nodded, about to return it, when a sharp knocking suddenly sounded at the door.

With no choice, I clutched the Shèn and walked to the entrance.

Just as I reached for the knob, I heard a clattering sound; something had dropped outside.

My heart leaped into my throat, for I instantly recognized the sound of a knife.

Who was knocking at my door with a weapon, and careless enough to drop it?

Though I wasn't as timid as a horror movie protagonist who jumps from a window at the sight of a blade, a wise person avoids immediate danger. What if the person outside was a mentally unstable individual who had escaped, and I ended up stabbed for no good reason?

So, I didn't rush to open the door, instead asking, "Who is it?"

The person outside remained silent, and the dropped knife lay untouched on the floor, as if they were merely standing there.

I pressed my ear close to the door and heard an extremely low respiration, originating from above me.

This suggested the person outside was likely a man, and a very tall one at that.

This solidified my resolve not to open the door carelessly; I hadn't seen any doctor or nurse here remotely that tall, especially one carrying a knife.

As time passed, I felt that even standing by the door was a risk. If the person decided to force entry, I would have nowhere to hide.

I retreated a few steps to the bedside, slipped the Shèn into my pocket, and rummaged through the drawer, finding nothing suitable for self-defense.

Resigning myself, I hugged the fish tank, deciding to hurl it if the person broke in.

However, a long silence followed, with no movement at the door.

Just as I assumed they had left, a voice finally spoke at the threshold.

It was a gentle voice, tentatively asking, "Is Mr. Nie present? I am 0117, Hekawa Miko. Do you remember me? Dr. Inoue asked you to come over; he said your friend’s condition has worsened slightly."

I froze, wondering if the figure at the door had been Nurse Miko. That seemed unlikely; she was a frail woman, incapable of making such an intimidating presence.

I made an affirmative sound from inside the room and said, "I'll be right there."

Miko didn't reply immediately. She seemed hesitant, as if she wanted to say more, but after a moment of indecision, she finally walked away.

I heard the distinct thud-thud of high heels receding, and my tension eased slightly.

Placing the fish tank down, wiping the cold sweat from my brow, I checked my watch: it was already half-past eleven.

I tidied myself up, planning to spend the night in Da Xiong and the others' room to monitor their condition.

Then, I approached the door, took a deep breath, and violently threw it open.

The doorway was empty, save for the faint, dim glow cast by the sickly yellow corridor lightbulb.

Moving like a thief, I stuck my head out, scanning both sides of the hallway, ensuring no one was there before stepping out.

The hospital was utterly silent in the deep night; all patient rooms were closed, and no one stirred.

The corridor lighting was dim, lending the atmosphere a strangely eerie quality.

Still, I thought, finding no one was infinitely better than encountering a tall, dark figure standing motionless in the hall.

Thus, I proceeded toward Da Xiong and his companions' ward.

Although their room was on the same floor, it was on the opposite side of the corridor, requiring a pass by the central nurses' station.

Even though we were admitted simultaneously, this arrangement was necessary because their rooms housed critical care patients, whereas mine was for only a minor concussion.

I took two steps, then suddenly remembered I’d left my phone, so I doubled back to retrieve it.

At that moment, I stopped short, gazing at the white door of my own room with astonishment.

There was a muddy handprint on it—fresh, with the clay still visibly damp.

I noted the handprint’s unusually large size, suggesting it belonged to someone at least six-foot-three, which sent a jolt of surprise through me.

This confirmed it: a very tall person had indeed been standing right outside my door.

The mud suggested the person had either just stumbled badly or, more disturbingly, climbed out of some pit.

Contemplating the latter possibility sent a shiver down my spine.

Yet, I tried to reason myself out of it: perhaps the person was just a sewer worker, and what fell was merely one of his pipe maintenance tools.

As for why he was at the hospital, maybe there were no public restrooms nearby, so he came here looking for one.

Thinking this over, I realized the logic crumbled instantly: we were on the fourth floor.

There was a public restroom on the first floor. Why would anyone climb to the fourth floor to ask directions to a toilet?

Lost in these thoughts, I arrived at the nurses’ station.

Hekawa Miko was standing behind the counter. Seeing me, she hurried to speak, "Mr. Nie, just now…"

I cut her off sharply, asking, "Was there someone standing outside my room a moment ago?"

Hekawa Miko blinked, then replied, "Yes, there was, but that was me. I was retrieving some sterilized surgical instruments from the supply room, and when I reached your door, I accidentally knocked over the tray, and the instruments clattered onto the floor. I immediately gathered them all up and then knocked on your door."

Although the story sounded far-fetched, she didn't appear to be lying.

However, her narrative contained a glaring inconsistency, so I pressed her: "If your surgical instruments fell, why did you knock on my door?"

Miko offered a slightly apologetic smile. "Oh, after the instruments dropped, I heard your footsteps and thought I had disturbed your sweet dreams, so I wanted to apologize."

I looked directly into her eyes, certain that she could not be fabricating the story; her gaze was unwavering.

But a contradictory thought hammered in my mind: "I clearly heard the knock before I heard the sound of the knife dropping, but Hekawa Miko claims the exact opposite."

A headache started to bloom. I thought hard, eventually reaching into my pocket for the Shèn.

Pulling it out, I saw one of the spots on its back had vanished; it was down to seven from eight.

Could it have been orchestrating things? Had it expended the energy of one spot to create an illusion, hypnotizing me into this elaborate prank?

Seeing me present a small, shelled creature, Hekawa Miko gasped in surprise. "Where did you get this shell? It’s beautiful!"

I internally scoffed—how could this dull, dark thing be beautiful?

But as I looked down, the creature was enveloped in a faint mist.

The mist slowly dissipated, gradually clouding my vision, and suddenly, the shell's exterior shifted from black to a vibrant, shimmering iridescence.

Though my sight was fooled by the illusion, my consciousness remained crystal clear. I cursed inwardly: "Even this shell knows how to put on a show for a woman. This thing must be male."

I fanned my hand in front of my face, trying to blow away the illusionary fog.

But then I considered Miko’s reaction when the magnificent, colorful shell suddenly reverted to a dull black, and I felt that would be inappropriate.

It was best not to reveal something so far outside common experience to an ordinary person.

So, I lied, claiming I needed to retrieve something else, and turned back toward my room.

Walking backward, I fanned vigorously until the glamour finally dissipated, revealing the Shèn's true appearance.

At that moment, I noticed another spot missing from its surface.

I thought to myself how wasteful it was for this creature to expend its energy on such meaningless displays.

Just as I was about to push the door open and return it to the tank, I saw something new: an additional muddy handprint on the door, and this one was even fresher than the last.

Moreover, the door, which I had firmly shut, was now slightly ajar.

I scrambled, half-crawling, toward the Tiger Stone Stand, not daring to look back.

Because I knew then that the figure had returned after I left, and it wasn't an illusion—it was real, and it was specifically targeting me.

Otherwise, there wouldn't be two handprints on my door.

No matter how brave I usually was, this time I was terrified enough to stumble blindly toward the Tiger Stone Stand.

Seeing me return, Hekawa Miko looked bewildered. "Mr. Nie, what happened?"

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and asked haltingly, "Has... has this hospital ever been haunted?"

Hekawa Miko’s face instantly drained of color. She asked, "Mr. Nie, did you see something just now?"

Seeing her pale lips and ashen face, her mouth trembling as she spoke, I knew I must have genuinely frightened her.

Girls are inherently timid; telling her something like this in the dead of night would certainly scare her.

But what I had witnessed with my own eyes could not be false. So, I said, "I apologize, I was... just joking. But tonight is the Ghost Festival; you shouldn't stay on duty alone. You should go home and rest early."

Miko’s lips were still trembling. After several seconds, she managed to reply, "H-how can I? It’s my scheduled shift tonight. If something happens to a patient while I’m gone, I won’t be able to account for it."

At that moment, I couldn't help but glance toward my room. Seeing no unusual activity, I said, "Alright, I won't feel at ease leaving you here alone either. Why don't you come with me to the ward to find Dr. Inoue? It might give you some courage."

As I spoke, a creaking sound echoed down the quiet hallway. I watched as my room door slowly swung open, and a figure stepped out from within.

Every hair on my body stood on end. Forgetting everything else, I grabbed Hekawa Miko's hand and bolted toward the opposite end of the corridor.