Chapter 214: [Blessed with Longevity] Method of Treatment
It was only natural for Li Yun to hold a good impression of Qin Fa.
He radiated an aura that readily disarmed people and invited fond feelings from outsiders.
Of course, as far as Li Yun was concerned, she likely hadn’t dared to even entertain thoughts of romance just yet.
Bai Cha, however, was a completely different story.
Rather than sitting around waiting to die, taking the initiative suited her far better.
She had specifically selected the most exquisitely blooming pink roses, seemingly handing them out to everyone passing by, though in truth that wasn’t entirely the case.
Once the supply of flowers in her arms gradually thinned, she began deliberately picking and choosing her recipients.
Until precisely four blooms remained, one of which she personally brought to Qin Fa.
If Qin Fa possessed a sufficient degree of self-confidence, witnessing Bai Cha’s performance—coupled with his professional background—would inevitably lead him to believe that Bai Cha held romantic feelings toward him in her heart, using the guise of giving flowers to everyone as a cover when she simply wanted to give one to him alone.
After all, pink roses had always symbolized the secret affections of a young maiden, hadn’t they?
Returning to her hospital room, Bai Cha carefully lifted the rose resting by her pillow, a faint smile gracing the corners of her lips.
Much like someone who had successfully used an opportunity to show favor to their crush, brimming with joy over receiving a response.
The security camera glinted with an icy sheen, taking in the entire scene.
At eleven o’clock in the morning.
Qin Fa stepped inside.
“Li Yun, come with me.”
Bai Cha stood up, walking over while asking with a hint of curiosity, “Where are we going?”
“Treatment.”
Bai Cha paused briefly.
“Isn’t treatment usually conducted in the afternoon and evening?”
Qin Fa let out a soft smile, offering comforting words: “Rest assured, it’s not that your condition has worsened. Rather, after you came to chat with me today, I felt that your overall state has indeed recovered quite nicely.”
“So I figured the previous treatments must have yielded great results. Before, out of consideration for your alter personality, I didn’t dare push into deeper therapy. Now, I’ve decided to add an extra session every day at noon. Once treatment concludes, you can head straight to lunch.”
As Qin Fa spoke, he had already led Bai Cha to the elevator, pressing the up button.
Keeping her head lowered, Bai Cha remained silent for a long moment before speaking: “Doctor Qin…”
Qin Fa looked over at her, his face brimming with patience.
Bai Cha let out a soft sigh, saying, “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I just feel a bit anxious.”
Qin Fa nodded in understanding.
“That’s completely normal. Because each treatment session is actually quite an agonizing ordeal for your alter personality, it inevitably influences your core personality, leaving you feeling anxious and uneasy.”
Only then did Bai Cha force a faint smile onto her face.
This emotion had indeed arisen entirely naturally.
There was no telling where it originated from.
It somewhat resembled an instinctive stress response spawned from remaining trapped in a specific environment over a prolonged period.
If that were the case, did this physical body she currently inhabited still belong to her?
Or was it being influenced by those memories?
Ding—!
The elevator arrived at the ninth floor.
This floor was no stranger to her memories either, as she went up here for every single treatment session.
The overall environment on this floor was relatively dim and deathly quiet.
Unsurprisingly, Bai Cha was led to the familiar Room No. 6.
Inside rested an exceptionally comfortable recliner chair; essentially, every treatment session consisted of lying here to sleep.
Bai Cha’s brows knitted slightly, that stress-induced unease turning noticeably more pronounced.
Was she truly going to undergo treatment?
Yet having already made it here, stepping back was out of the question.
“Lie down.”
Qin Fa lit a stick of incense.
Supposedly a soothing incense, it served to relax one’s mind and spirit.
Bai Cha walked over and sat on the recliner, taking advantage of the motion to swiftly scan the room.
Mirrors lined the surrounding walls, rendering the entire space visually expansive and imposing.
Yet at the same time, two opposing mirrors diffracted the scene within the room, creating an illusion of being trapped inside a phantasmagoric realm at a certain moment.
Drowsiness crept over her gradually.
That stick of incense definitely harbored something sinister.
Bai Cha closed her eyes bit by bit.
Though she attempted to keep herself clear-headed, it proved entirely in vain.
No telling how much time elapsed, she felt an agonizing pain across her body—particularly along her arms.
Bai Cha attempted to snap her eyes open, yet struggled immensely.
Her vision was somewhat blurry.
Catching zero sight of anyone nearby, she turned her gaze toward her arm with great difficulty.
Her entire arm looked as though it had sprouted fleshy tumors, yet they were smooth, glowing with a translucent, lustrous white.
These things covered her entire forearm, the pain radiating outward straight from her arm.
It felt as though it had taken root inside her body, absorbing her strength to grow.
Bai Cha squeezed her eyes shut briefly.
The pain remained barely bearable for the time being.
Yet she couldn’t confirm whether anyone was watching her from the surroundings right now.
After a moment’s thought, Bai Cha triggered her second Dodder Vine seed.
[Would you like to parasitize the host: Tai Sui (?)?]
The prompt’s question mark seemed to glitch briefly, repeating twice.
Though it wasn’t necessarily a glitch.
Tai Sui…
Yes.
[Parasitism successful.]
Only then did Bai Cha snap her eyes open once more, looking toward her arm again.
She set about struggling.
Much like someone who initially lacked clear consciousness, failing to see distinctly or react in time, now finally realizing a strange entity clung to her hand, launching into resistance.
Bai Cha tried desperately to open her mouth to make a sound, yet her body was far too exhausted; her struggling amounted to nothing more than two minor twitches.
Compounded by this sensation of total immobility, alongside that unknown monster seemingly draining her life force, an expression of sheer terror and panic surfaced across Bai Cha’s face.
Struggling until veins bulged over her forehead and neck, she finally managed to jerk upward slightly with great effort.
Her other hand moved inward with immense difficulty, gradually drawing near the hand sprouting the Tai Sui.
Yet this process proved agonizingly slow.
Despair and tears flickered deep within her eyes, while only faint, pathetic sounds could escape her throat.
That Tai Sui, meanwhile, was slowly expanding—albeit at a sluggish pace.
Finally, her fingers brushed against that white lump of flesh.
Soft and springy, ice-cold to the touch, its texture felt somewhat like jelly, yet far tougher and resilient than jelly ever was.
Bai Cha attempted to pry the thing off her hand, yet that mass of Tai Sui quivered twice, wrapping straight over her other hand as well.
A sharp, truncated gasp escaped her throat as she instinctively tried to yank her hand back.
A piercing sting had already transmitted from the fingers of her other hand, however.
Something was forcibly drilling its way into her blood vessels.
Bai Cha suffered a complete mental breakdown.
She looked around at her surroundings; the environment had long since shifted into something else entirely. It resembled an operating table flanked by cold, metallic surgical instruments, the door locked tight, completely devoid of people.
Bai Cha continued struggling, like a fish flopping helplessly on the brink of death.
Then, at a certain moment, she abandoned her resistance, lying in total despair atop the icy operating table.
Her consciousness was inherently heavy to begin with, her eyes gradually closing once more.
When she awoke next, she had returned to the previous Room No. 6.
A faint, barely perceptible trace of soothing incense still lingered within the air.
Qin Fa walked over to her side.
“You’ve recovered quite well. Get up. How are you feeling personally?”
Bai Cha looked at him, appearing as though she had just awakened from a dream, still somewhat dazed, resulting in a half-beat delay in her reaction.
“Pretty good. It felt like I had a dream, but I can’t seem to remember it.”
As Bai Cha spoke, a nostalgic, recollective expression surfaced on her face.
“That’s completely normal. It’s already twelve-thirty—go get some lunch.” Qin Fa offered a warm smile as he helped her up.
Bai Cha’s body went subtly rigid for a moment before she stood up on her own with a touch of bashfulness.
Subconsciously lowering her head, she smoothed her hair softly.
