Chapter 224: [Blessed with Longevity] Insatiable Desire
“Who allowed you to paint?! Let me tell you, studying is the only proper path! Take a look at others! They’re in the top ten of the entire school, and what about you?! Barely twentieth!”
“You only scored in the top three and you’re already gloating—why didn’t you score first place?! What is there to be proud of?!”
“Why can’t you be like other people’s children?! Look at them—first place every single time!”
“Hurry up! Faster!”
“What does first place even count for?! You have to be even more outstanding!”
“First in the school means nothing—you must be first in the city! First in the province!”
“Be more outstanding! You have to be even more outstanding!”
Overwhelming, deafening voices flooded Bai Cha’s brain in an instant.
These voices didn’t arrive line by line, but detonated inside her head simultaneously all at once.
It took her a long moment to regain her composure and release her grip, her head still ringing with a loud buzz.
Bai Cha simply sat straight back down on her hospital bed. Resting for a while to calm down, she looked up at the ceiling once more, then turned her gaze onto He Yan.
“What is this? Your parents’ expectations for you?”
If so, this couldn’t be considered a ghost or monster, could it? No, what kind of parental expectations would turn into a concrete manifestation like this?
Small wonder the doctors judged that He Yan’s condition stemmed from her living environment; this indeed could spark her illness, yet it wasn’t entirely identical either.
He Yan shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“In my dreams, it’s a pitch-black, writhing monster.”
He Yan closed her eyes with a trace of agony.
“I assumed at first that it was spawned from remaining under my parents’ pressure for a prolonged period, just as the doctor said.”
“Yet ever since I began treatment, that voice shifted. It turned into: Are you feeling better today? Why haven’t you recovered yet? Why aren’t you getting better? Faster! Faster!“
“And then, I saw it.”
That entity scrambled out from her dreams, hovering above her head to envelope her, draping thousands upon thousands of threaded tendrils to entangle her.
Li Xiang stepped off her bed as well.
Walking over to the door, she leaned against it while looking back at them, her voice raspy: “I’ll keep watch for you.”
He Yan’s original, numb gaze suddenly filled with tears.
Bai Cha let out a soft sigh, drawing Overcast Cold Mountain.
As the short sword sliced through the threads in the air, those strands wrapped around the blade of Overcast Cold Mountain instantly.
Bai Cha stared at the sword blade; the sword was absorbing them.
Her original intent was simply to test whether she could sever them, and since people could pass by outside at any given moment, she refrained from using the butcher knife.
An icy power—one that sparked a wild, frantic impulse deep within her heart—flooded into her body.
Bai Cha closed her eyes, knitting her brows as she experienced the sensation.
She suddenly discovered that many of her own thoughts were being amplified.
I want a healthy body so badly…
I want my cousin to escape this damn game so badly…
Why control me?! No one gets to control me…
Grow stronger! Grow stronger! Must grow even stronger!
These thoughts inherently existed within her occasional, fleeting daydreams.
Yet they were merely occasional.
Every human carried desires—or rather, held their own cravings.
Fortunately, this power wasn’t particularly abundant, drawing to a swift close before long.
He Yan experienced an unprecedented sense of relief and lightness. Looking toward Bai Cha, her mouth parted; catching sight of Bai Cha’s current discomfort, her face filled with guilt and worry.
“Are you… alright?”
“I’m fine. Just need a moment.”
Bai Cha was indeed mostly fine. She refrained from deliberately suppressing these thoughts; though feeling irritable and even wildly agitated in her heart, it hadn’t reached an uncontrollable point.
As for Overcast Cold Mountain, however…
Bai Cha examined the ruby embedded in the sword hilt closely—had it flashed briefly just now?
When acquiring this sword, Xu Ming-wang had mentioned that a vengeful spirit resided within it, carrying the potential to awaken.
It had remained completely quiet all along prior to this.
Was it because the power this time was different? Before, it had encountered only ghosts or those Crimson Demons.
This entity this time, however, seemed to amplify human desires.
Desire…
The hint at the start of the game had explicitly mentioned the word desire.
Sheathing her sword, Bai Cha sank into deep thought.
Desire—an insatiable abyss…
What haunted He Yan was the desire spawned from her parents. Those could certainly be termed expectations at first, yet when satisfying one expectation sparked the craving for the next, it had already turned into desire.
That entity manifested into physical form, gnawing away at He Yan and adding an uncontrollable layer of eerie anomaly to her pre-existing condition.
What about the Tai Sui, then?
The two appeared remarkably similar; they were overwhelmingly likely the exact same entity, merely serving different functions.
When the Game Customer Support spoke of the Tai Sui, a question mark followed behind it.
So, the Tai Sui wasn’t necessarily the legendary creature of myth.
Perhaps it, too, was merely a product of human desire.
Desire could never be satisfied, which was why those who consumed the Tai Sui could never depart from it.
The Tai Sui’s growth appeared to feed upon human spirit—or rather, the power of the soul.
Much like He Yan, whose mental energy had been nearly entirely drained away.
Viewed this way, attempting to kill the Tai Sui was indeed impossible.
No one could kill desire.
What about Qin Fa, then?
Did he understand the true nature of the Tai Sui?
The medical record book rarely documented detailed characteristics of the Tai Sui; he had likely written those details down elsewhere intentionally.
Had she known earlier, she should have inspected the items on the bookshelf again last night.
No, no—taking on too much at once leads to sloppy mistakes, making it easy to get caught.
After calming herself for a short while, Bai Cha’s emotional state improved considerably. Though an uncontrollable craving to grow stronger lingered—exerting a subtle influence over certain thoughts—everything fortunately remained within her threshold of control.
“Come back,” Bai Cha looked toward Li Xiang.
Li Xiang nodded, dragging her frail, weak body back to sit on her hospital bed.
Tilting her head to look at Bai Cha and He Yan, she offered a soft smile.
A glint of light returned to He Yan’s eyes as well, yet it wasn’t hard to tell that whether it was her or Li Xiang, truly recovering would still take a long time.
Because they indeed harbored emotional wounds, leaving the rest entirely up to themselves.
Truth or illusion—who could truly distinguish between them?
At any rate, this was merely an instance after all.
Bai Cha didn’t linger in the ward any longer, intending to head downstairs to check out the perimeter fence.
Stepping out the door, several other players were making their way toward the elevator just like her.
After yesterday’s day of ordeal, aside from a few unlucky players, the majority looked no different from ordinary patients now.
The medical staff naturally relaxed their guard, permitting them to walk downstairs at will.
The group stepped into the elevator together, no one uttering a word.
Until they reached the first floor.
Stepping out of the elevator, an odor surged straight toward their faces.
Stunned expressions surfaced across everyone’s numb faces, hands reaching up instinctively to cover their noses and mouths.
Bai Cha silently covered her nose as well.
This prop truly was… unless a critical moment arrived in the future, she would avoid using it whenever possible.
How come the stench hadn’t faded after a whole night, but seemed to have turned even stronger instead?!
Even the outdoor lawn carried a trace of the smell, though fortunately it wasn’t very heavy.
Bai Cha looked up at the sky; today’s sunlight was exceptionally fine as well.
Scanning her surroundings, she caught sight of that young boy.
She walked over.
That little black dog had vanished to who-knows-where. Main thing was, asking her to kill a ghost was easy, but returning a soul to its body was something she genuinely found difficult—having never done it before, she held zero clue how to proceed.
The young boy raised his head to look at her.
The two locked gazes in silence.
The nurse caring for the young boy looked at Bai Cha.
“Quite rare, really. Yesterday he showed interest in the flowers you gave him, while refusing interest in what I offered. Today he actually showed a reaction to your person.”
As the nurse spoke, an inspecting glint flickered in her eyes.
Bai Cha immediately raised her head and smiled: “Probably because I’m pretty.”
The nurse stared at her haggard, sallow appearance—and her unwashed hair from several days without a shower: “…”
