Fang Miao immediately looked at Wei Xian.
Wei Xian had also regained her senses by now, staring at Zhang Lei in shock.
“What are you trying to do?!”
Zhang Lei spread his hands, looking at her with a smile.
Wei Xian knew the consequences of not arguing back at a time like this, but Fang Miao’s malicious gaze had every muscle in her body wound tight. She searched frantically for a rebuttal, but her mind was blank.
A glint flashed behind Zhang Lei’s glasses.
The other nurse wordlessly stepped back a few paces, leaving Wei Xian exposed in the front.
Fang Miao walked toward Wei Xian.
Wei Xian instinctively shrank back. “It’s not me…”
She shook her head desperately. “I was just looking for the lab rats. Aren’t the lab rats the mental patients here? It’s really not me! Let’s break down the door together!”
She sputtered her explanation, hurriedly glancing at the patients behind the glass door.
She pointed at the glass. “They’re right there! Let’s go after them! The lab rats are obviously on the other side—why catch me?!”
But no one moved.
Break down a reinforced glass door?
What a joke.
Everyone knew the lab rats were the mental patients; but if you couldn’t catch them, someone still had to take the fall. Last time, and the time before that, someone always did.
Watching Wei Xian collapse, Shen Huanhuan, hidden in the tree above, gripped her branch tightly.
Shen Xiaoxiao noticed her sister’s strange expression and whispered, “Sis?”
“Don’t forget I passed out yesterday. The spiritual entity behind this place is very powerful—don’t interfere with the rules it’s set. Cracking the field is already a good deed—not everyone can be saved.”
“Besides,” Shen Xiaoxiao mouthed, “just look at how smoothly Zhang Lei pointed fingers, and how slick Wei Xian was at deflecting blame onto the mental patients—none of these nurses are innocent. Don’t take risks—”
“But it’s not right to test human nature under extreme conditions.”
Shen Huanhuan spoke softly, “Human nature shouldn’t be tested this way.”
She lowered her voice to analyze, “From the messages Jiang Yan sent, the sanatorium always holds this event from midnight Sunday to six in the morning—that’s a set rule, and rules are to be followed.”
“I’ve heard from Master that even within their own field, spirits follow the rules. After six, it’s safe.”
After weighing it over, Shen Huanhuan made her decision.
She told Shen Xiaoxiao, “Don’t move. I’ll try to tie up Fang Miao. Master gave me a charm that can restrain a spirit for three minutes, no questions asked. There’s less than two minutes until six now; it’ll be fine.”
Shen Xiaoxiao bit her lip. She wanted to dissuade her, but Shen Huanhuan suddenly said:
“I didn’t save Meng Henshui last time.”
Shen Xiaoxiao fell silent.
Last time, Meng Henshui’s suicide jump was almost certain death—if Shen Huanhuan had tried to save her, she’d shoulder the burden of fate itself. That karmic backlash was too deadly; the slightest misstep could’ve cost Shen Huanhuan her life.
But now, it wasn’t a deadly situation for anyone. There were loopholes, so she really could save someone.
Still, Shen Xiaoxiao felt none of these nurses’ lives were worth risking her sister’s safety.
She felt her motives were right; Shen Huanhuan, too, felt she was right.
The livestream chat fell silent.
[This is a semi-manifested energy field—it’s too dangerous. Why take the risk?]
[Come on, these nurses aren’t even worth saving.]
[Probably because she’s afraid of future regret.]
The sunrise in Baishan Town was beautiful.
Sunlight swept away the gloom, the sun cresting the peaks.
Shen Huanhuan pulled a charm from her pocket, golden light flickering at her fingertips.
An invisible golden rope, unseen by ordinary eyes, flashed out like the wind and quickly bound Fang Miao.
Fang Miao, perhaps only consciously controlled, put up no resistance at all. Her body was instantly cocooned, crashing to the ground before she could fight back!
As she fell, her venomous gaze tracked upward to the tree and fixed on Shen Huanhuan.
All the nurses present froze at Fang Miao’s collapse; Zhang Lei stared wide-eyed in shock.
Shen Huanhuan sustained the incantation, murmuring under her breath. A minute passed. Fang Miao was bound tightly, immobile from head to toe.
She couldn’t see, couldn’t speak, could only writhe weakly on the ground.
The sun was about to fully rise.
The sunlight turned Shen Huanhuan’s face a warm gold. She silently counted down: thirty seconds, fifteen, ten…
Just as a new day was about to break, someone gave her hem a hard yank!
The shock pulled Shen Huanhuan off balance. Her hand reached instinctively forward for support. Shen Xiaoxiao frantically grabbed at her but missed by a hair. Shen Huanhuan’s body arched backward, slamming her waist hard on a branch, then flipped, crashing knees-first to the ground from five meters up.
The spell was broken.
Wei Xian, who had silently climbed into the tree, gave a survivor’s smirk.
“Lab rat…”
She shouted joyfully to Fang Miao, “Head Nurse, I caught a lab rat!!”
*
It had all happened so fast.
Even with the bushes to break her fall, Shen Huanhuan’s leg snapped. She bit her lip so hard it bled; the charm slipped from her hand into the dirt.
Wei Xian gleefully scrambled down from the tree, grabbing Shen Huanhuan by the collar as she addressed Fang Miao:
“I’ll help you take her to the lab!”
With the spell broken, Fang Miao rose, unharmed.
She glanced at her watch, then suddenly burst into a cackle.
“Two seconds.”
Wei Xian didn’t get it. She started to drag Shen Huanhuan along clumsily, asking, “What do you mean, two seconds?”
“The lab only takes rats identified before six,” Fang Miao said, looking up and down at Wei Xian with wicked amusement, like she was watching a great show. “You’re two seconds too late.”
So the lab rat was still Wei Xian.
Wei Xian started to tremble.
Zhang Lei snorted in amusement, and Xu Jing openly sighed in relief upon realizing it wasn’t her. Both stepped aside, giving Fang Miao room to act.
Crushing silence fell.
Fang Miao stepped forward and mercilessly seized Wei Xian by the hair, yanking hard—
Agonizing pain like her scalp was being torn free made Wei Xian cry out, hands covering her head. In the pain, she released Shen Huanhuan’s collar, and Fang Miao dragged her forward.
Her body scraped across gravel, her bare arms and legs left with countless bleeding cuts.
Shen Huanhuan stared numbly ahead.
Wei Xian twisted and glared at Shen Huanhuan, as if wanting to tear flesh from her bones with her eyes.
“You’ll die a horrible death!”
She cursed, “Why didn’t you come out sooner?!”
“Why didn’t you save me?!”
Her curses lasted until Fang Miao hauled her into a small building beside the sanatorium, where they were quickly replaced by wretched, tormented screams.
Five minutes later, the sounds were gone.
Fang Miao emerged, soaked in blood, her hair caked with clumps of white, gooey matter. She licked her fingers clean and headed for the main entrance.
The doors had been opened at some point. The children behind the glass were gone; Zhang Lei and Xu Jing turned their faces to the doors and, as though sleepwalking, shuffled blank-eyed into the lobby, then followed Fang Miao in line to the third-floor nurses’ quarters.
The sun rose, rays spilling everywhere.
Everything settled into quiet.
Throbbing pain from the broken leg surged up—Shen Huanhuan curled into herself, shielding her face. Shen Xiaoxiao scrambled down from the tree, visibly shaken. If her sister had been chosen as a lab rat, she would have risked everything for her.
“Sis,” she said, guilt-ridden, “I didn’t spot that wretched nurse—otherwise you would’ve succeeded.”
Shen Huanhuan shook her head.
The twins were similar in build, but in her fluster, Shen Xiaoxiao couldn’t manage to lift her. She began jumping up and down in distress.
Just then, Jiang Yan walked out from the lobby.
She quickly secured Shen Huanhuan’s leg with a branch, then scooped her up.
Shen Huanhuan said nothing, raising her arm to cover her eyes.
Jiang Yan carried her upstairs to Room 403.
Shen Huanhuan’s hands still covered her face.
Jiang Yan lowered her gaze. “What’s the point of crying?”
Shen Huanhuan pulled her hand slightly away, revealing tearful eyes.
“Be more careful next time you try to save someone.”
Jiang Yan laid her gently on the hospital bed and pressed the call button.
*
With her leg broken, Shen Huanhuan was completely immobile.
The nurse who answered the call was Zhang Lei, yawning as he checked her injury, then called for a doctor.
“How’d this happen?” the doctor asked Shen Huanhuan.
Zhang Lei looked over. He’d never seen anyone get a broken bone in their sleep before—his expression was full of curiosity.
Shen Huanhuan took a long time to answer.
Eventually, she said softly, “I must’ve fallen out of bed. Maybe I slept in a bad position.”
The doctor let it go.
He examined the injury and spoke impatiently, “It’s pretty serious. I’ll put a cast on you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Shen Xiaoxiao protested, “If it’s serious, shouldn’t you do it right away?”
The doctor replied, “I’m not in good shape today. I’m getting off shift soon.”
[??]
[Did I hear that right?? Just leaving work?]
[Wow. This doctor’s a real gem.]
Shen Xiaoxiao was dumbfounded.
Medical treatment costs money, sure, but was this kind of attitude normal?
The surrounding nurses barely glanced over.
Zhang Lei shushed her, “I thought it was something serious…”
Xu Jing, who’d come to watch, chimed in, “Yeah, what a letdown.”
“I thought it was brittle bone disease! I heard with that, a sneeze can shatter your whole body…”
Then, as if something occurred to her, Xu Jing looked up at Zhang Lei. “Do we even treat brittle bone here?”
Zhang Lei frowned. “Of course not. You know what this place is like—no way we could handle that.”
“You never know.”
Xu Jing pressed her palms together piously. “I hope some fragile little darling gets sent here. I’d definitely take good care of them.”
Zhang Lei sneered, “What kind of ‘good care’?”
Xu Jing rolled her eyes and didn’t reply. Instead, she asked, “Have you seen Wei Xian this morning?”
Zhang Lei shook his head. “Nope, must still be sleeping.”
“Lazy thing,” Xu Jing gave him a shove, “Forget it, let’s go eat.”
“I’m exhausted, too. I’ll nap after breakfast.”
Zhang Lei nodded in agreement.
Baishan Sanatorium’s breakfast was delivered daily by a supplier; most of it was expiring frozen food—hardly appetizing.
The two took a few bites and headed back for a nap, showing no interest in providing therapy to any actual patients.
Jiang Yan watched them go from the dining room corner, then bowed her head over her bowl of watery porridge.
Across from her, Shen Xiaoxiao scowled and tore at her steamed bun.
“Kill them all!!”
She looked up at Jiang Yan, recounting what she’d just overheard in the ward. “Unbelievable—my sister and I were right there, and they’re shamelessly talking about her condition, saying it’s a shame it’s not brittle bone disease.”
“They’re even wishing we’d get a brittle bone patient so they could ‘take care’ of them—like hell they would, with that attitude. It’d be abuse!”
“This sanatorium is totally abusing patients—what if the spirit behind it was tortured to death here?”
Jiang Yan massaged her brow and said nothing.
The reason for an energy field’s emergence is always a spirit absorbing enough filth and then emitting it in reverse.
And the field’s internal pattern represents the spirit’s deepest obsession.
Though this energy field isn’t fully formed yet, its internal pattern is already clear: “Everyone must hunt down an infected lab rat and send them to the lab.”
Given that, figuring out what underlying obsession this mode expresses becomes key.
But there’s a major problem now—
This is a semi-formed energy field.
Jiang Yan genuinely wished it were already fully formed. A half-field is incomplete, and the information it leaks is equally unreliable.
Trying to analyze unreliable information can only lead to false conclusions.
For example, Jiang Yan couldn’t understand why the spirit only controlled nurses.
Was this by design?
Or was the spirit not strong enough, the field not stable enough, to extend its influence beyond the nurses?
And there were other questions—why are the lab rats always mental patients, not others; why did the game end at six, not seven; why did the degree of amnesia vary by person… and so on.
Because it’s a semi-field, Jiang Yan didn’t know if these restrictions were intentional or simply as far as the spirit could manage.
Getting nowhere, Jiang Yan decided to set these puzzles aside for now.
She’d start with the basics.
“Let’s check into the history of Baishan Sanatorium first—clarify its foundation and the real reason for its decline.”
Shen Xiaoxiao eagerly nodded. “Good idea, good idea.”
“My sister said special situations call for special measures—she told me to devote extra funds to research, so I thought…”
“How about I hire a private detective for this?” Shen Xiaoxiao batted her eyes.
Jiang Yan: “?”
Yu Renwan, listening from the table: “??”
Xiao Wa, stealing cookies in the backpack: “???”
“It’s faster this way,” Shen Xiaoxiao gestured. “Besides, you can’t trust everything online. Who knows if the records in this place are complete? We’re stuck in a semi-field—it’s a race just to finish the mission and survive. Digging up this kind of history is a waste of time. Better pay someone to do it!”
Jiang Yan’s face darkened. “Why didn’t you do this before?”
Shen Xiaoxiao scratched her head. “Um… My sister said proper competitions shouldn’t rely too heavily on money.”
Jiang Yan said earnestly, “I suggest we always hire ‘that thing’ in the future.”
Yu Renwan quietly offered, “P-private detective.”
As soon as she spoke, she unzipped her backpack and exchanged a shocked glance with the little crow peeking out.
Finding the crow adorable, Shen Xiaoxiao fished out some fancy candy and stuffed them into Yu Renwan’s bag.
The little crow nudged at her finger merrily, but halfway through, it suddenly turned to glare resentfully at Jiang Yan.
Yu Renwan, quick on the uptake, shoved Xiao Wa’s head back into the bag: “I told you—not another thought about Jiang Yan’s eyeballs! Eyes shut!”
Jiang Yan pretended not to hear.
After a moment, she took a hair from her pocket and handed it to Shen Xiaoxiao:
“This was left by Le Yi on the dissection table before dawn. That little girl is clever—too clever to be alive. Get it tested.”