Ti ticked away by the second, and before he knew it, Yang Xiao had drifted off to sleep. When he opened his eyes again, it was already 11 o’clock.
Sitting up from the couch, he went to the bathroom to splash so cold water on his face, which made him much more alert. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall, Yang Xiao couldn’t help but wonder: when had he fallen asleep, and why couldn’t he rember doing so?
But now was not the ti to dwell on these thoughts. He had to act, to et the first task commissioned to him: to see Ms. Wu, who had restricted mobility, in apartnt 6037.
However, after searching the entire room he was in, Yang Xiao couldn’t find any dical supplies or instrunts, not even the most basic white lab coat.
Without these items, how could he pose as a doctor to treat soone? Could it be that Ms. Wu was a fool, who could be easily hoodwinked?
Feeling anxious, Yang Xiao pressed his ear against the door, listening carefully to the noises in the hallway. It was relatively quiet, with no sign of strange sounds.
Yang Xiao cautiously opened the door a crack and, upon ensuring there was no mistake, took his keys and stealthily stepped out.
The hallway was quiet, but faint sounds of movent and light snoring could be heard from the rooms on either side. These ordinary noises provided Yang Xiao with a slight sense of relief.
Taking the elevator was absolutely out of the question. If there was any issue and he beca trapped inside, he would miss his appointnt with Ms. Wu. According to the rules given by the apartnt manager, he would be fully responsible for any consequences.
And in the Nightmare World, nearly every mistake required paying with one’s life.
Passing the elevator he had once taken, the panel indicated it had stopped on the top floor, with the number 9 brightly displayed. The entire apartnt building had nine floors.
It seed everyone had safely reached their respective floors.
Swiftly, Yang Xiao located the ergency stairwell on the opposite side of the corridor. This stairwell was significantly newer than the interior facilities of the apartnt, with handrails freshly painted with gleaming green anti-rust paint. The corner walls were marked with floor numbers, and unlike the apartnt’s yellowed lighting, the ceiling lights shined a bright incandescent white. Yang Xiao observed as he ascended, deducing that this area was either newly built or recently renovated.
Pushing open the solid door of the safety passage, Yang Xiao traversed the corridor and finally arrived at the door marked 6037. It was almost ti.
After a light knock on the door, it creaked open, revealing a slit through which a bloodshot eye peered out at Yang Xiao standing outside.
"Hello, are you Ms. Wu? I’m the doctor," Yang Xiao said, his face displaying a smile while his heart raced. He hadn’t heard any footsteps inside the room before, which ant she had been standing behind the door, ready to open it at a mont’s notice.
Gradually, the door was pulled open wider, revealing an old lady in shabby clothes, her white hair disheveled as if unwashed for a long ti, and her wrinkled face dotted with age spots.
The old lady’s left eye was cloudy, covered in a milky film, seemingly blind, while she fixed Yang Xiao with a stare from her only functional right eye.
After a mont, the old lady stepped aside, letting Yang Xiao enter. The living room was arranged similarly to Yang Xiao’s own room, but there was no television, the decor was older, and it was cluttered with miscellaneous items.
Right upon entering, Yang Xiao was hit by a strong scent of dicinal dregs. There was a small earthenware pot on the dining table, used for decocting dicine, black and filthy, its contents unclear.
While Yang Xiao was still taking in his surroundings, the door behind him slamd shut. Old Lady Wu locked it and added a chain for good asure.
Having done this, the old lady turned around and sized up Yang Xiao with a voice both deep and hoarse, "Are you a practitioner of traditional Chinese dicine?"
"Yes," Yang Xiao responded, offering her a very reassuring smile. It seed the old lady had noticed that he wasn’t wearing a lab coat and had co empty-handed.
"What’s your surna?"
"You may call Chu Yang Xiao," he replied, not wishing to waste more ti. He took the initiative, "Elder, I saw you posted a request. What seems to be the problem?"
To Yang Xiao’s surprise, Old Lady Wu shook her head, "It’s not ; it’s my son. He’s unwell and needs soone to help him."
"Your son?"
Old Lady Wu walked toward a closed wooden door, which led to the bedroom, similar in layout to Yang Xiao’s room.
As she opened the bedroom door, Yang Xiao could see a bed against the wall with very old-fashioned bed curtains, like the canopies of yore, completely obscuring the view inside.
The room was dark, lit only by a dim oil lamp that gave off a faint glow. The lamp was placed on a small table next to the bed, which was also alongside a wooden chair with a backrest, positioned facing the bed.
It was obvious that the chair was ant for him, and the person lying on the bed, the patient, was his charge for today.
Yang Xiao did not act rashly, sensing that sothing was amiss, "Elder, what ailnt does your son have?"
The old lady suddenly lifted her head, looking at him with a strange gaze, "I don’t know what his illness is, that’s why I summoned a doctor. Please, have a look at him."
With those words, Yang Xiao had no choice but to steel himself and approach the bed. Just as he got closer, a violent cough suddenly erupted from behind the curtain, as if all the lungs were being coughed out.
The voice sounded like that of an elderly man.
Steadying his mind, Yang Xiao sat down on the chair and continuously assessed his current situation. He dared not pull the curtain aside, fearing the sight of a horrific scene, such as a person whose body was entirely decomposed. Recalling that he was posing as a practitioner of traditional Chinese dicine, he calmly spoke, "Please extend your arm; I need to take your pulse."
About 5 or 6 seconds later, the person on the bed moved—a trembling hand erged from the gap in the curtain, covered by a thick cotton sleeve. In the dim light of the oil lamp, Yang Xiao noticed that the hand was very dirty, its nails filled with dirt.
"How are you feeling?" Yang Xiao asked towards the bed, "Where does it feel uncomfortable?"
"Cough... cough cough..."
At his words, the coughing from the person on the bed beca even more severe. Then suddenly Old Lady Wu spoke from behind, her voice turning exceptionally cold, "Doctor, he is seriously ill now, unable to speak. Don’t make it hard for him."
After a brief pause, Yang Xiao reached out and pretended to place his fingers on the wrist of the man’s extended hand. But the next second, Yang Xiao’s complexion turned pale; the man’s hand was very cold, extrely cold, and... and the guy didn’t have a pulse at all!
A dead person!
This is a damn dead person!!
In the next second, Yang Xiao seed to have thought of sothing. Using the dim light, he looked at the gap between the man’s wrist and the gray sleeve, and indeed, he saw tattoos—the image of a bright red snake with its tongue flickering out.
Now Yang Xiao understood; this man wasn’t Old Lady Wu’s son at all, but one of the companions who had perished in the fog during their current mission.
The task turned out to be treating soone who was already dead—how to treat him, by bringing a dead person back to life? Yang Xiao felt a rush of panic, but his expression remained as calm as still water.
"How is he?" Old Lady Wu hurried from behind, "What sickness does my son have?"
"Don’t rush. The young master’s condition is complex and cannot be summarized simply. Let think it over carefully before making any plans," Yang Xiao feigned the manner of an expert traditional doctor, which was really just a way to buy ti to think of a solution.
"Cough... cough cough..."
The dead man’s hand was retracted, and monts later, the coughing from behind the curtain grew more intense, but this ti, Yang Xiao beca a little panicked because the sound was off.
More precisely, the height was off. The position where the sounds were coming from earlier was lower than Yang Xiao’s head; the body was lying on the bed, but these last few coughs sounded as if they were at the sa height as Yang Xiao’s head. In other words, this corpse sitting on the bed had sat up.
Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. A corpse had sat up in front of him, separated from him only by a curtain. Just imagining this scene in his mind made Yang Xiao feel a cold draft on his back, and the temperature in the bedroom seed to drop with it.
Monts later, Old Lady Wu’s ethereal voice ca from behind, "Doctor, you must examine carefully. He is my only son. If anything were to happen to him, then I, too, wouldn’t want to live on."
Yang Xiao sat upright, his tone strict and commanding, "Quiet down! Are you the doctor, or am I the doctor?! If you’re so capable, why don’t you do it?"
Old Lady Wu seed not to expect Yang Xiao to react in this way and imdiately fell silent, shrinking in her presence, "I just hope you can be ticulous. If you need anything, I can help you. Why not... lift the curtain and take a closer look?"
"No need. Go and fetch a fine thread. It seems I must employ the unique skill passed down by my father before he died," said Yang Xiao, keeping a straight face while spouting nonsense.
"What unique skill?"
Yang Xiao took a deep breath, "It is the long-lost Pulse Diagnosis with a Silk Thread known in the Jianghu."
Before long, Old Lady Wu brought over a roll of woolen yarn. Yang Xiao left the end of the thread by the bed, then asked the person inside to pick up the thread and wrap it around his wrist. He moved his chair back a bit, about two ters away from the bed, to maintain a safe distance.
He then squinted and pretended to be examining the pulse.
"Cough... cough cough..."
The man coughed even more violently, and this ti, the height had changed again. Until the next second, a flash of lightning passed outside the bedroom window, and with the brief illumination, Yang Xiao saw a horrifying scene. A shadow was cast on the curtain, that of a standing corpse with a twisted head, looking down at him from a commanding height.
"Doctor, what exactly are you dawdling for? Can you cure my son’s sickness or not?"
The voice of Old Lady Wu from behind grew increasingly impatient, but that wasn’t important. What was truly important was the scene Yang Xiao caught in the corner of his eye—right by his side on the ground, there was another shadow.
The bedroom was very dark. The shadow was ford by the light from the living room, shining through the bedroom door, casting the shadow of Old Lady Wu behind him on the floor.
The shadow’s right hand was raised high, clutching a kitchen knife.
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