Chapter 226: [Blessed with Longevity] Had a Dream
Chang Yashi handed out only five of her flowers.
Or rather, these five could be given to players, three of whom had already met with mishaps.
She kept one for herself, while the remaining three were distributed at random to other patients.
Implicit information flowed silently among the players.
As for Bai Cha, she had nearly reached the rear area when security personnel stepped forward to stop her.
“There is medical waste behind here—you cannot pass.”
Bai Cha glanced at the flowers blooming atop the perimeter wall; the blooms in the back were quite vibrant and lush.
She retracted her gaze with a touch of regret.
“Alright, I won’t go over.”
Looking at the flowers cradled in her arms, she happily set off to distribute them.
With every person she handed a flower to, she offered a gentle “see you tomorrow.”
The players all understood the message in their hearts.
Following her act from the first day, Bai Cha naturally had to give Doctor Qin a flower as well.
The stench inside Qin Fa’s office had dissipated slightly—thanks to the open window—yet it remained detectable nonetheless.
Bai Cha hesitated for a second, then walked inside with a resolute expression.
Putting on every bit the look of someone whose love could overcome all obstacles.
Qin Fa felt thoroughly displeased in his heart.
Yet a polite, dignified smile remained plastered across his face as he took the rose.
“You seem to be in a wonderful mood today?”
Bai Cha nodded, saying, “I just don’t know why, but I feel my spirit isn’t in great shape.”
Qin Fa nodded: “Then further treatment is still required—I’ll take you for a session in a bit.”
Sure enough, every visit to Qin Fa accelerated her death.
It was evident that the man genuinely loathed her.
“Alright, but…”
A look of hesitation and reluctance surfaced on Bai Cha’s face.
“If there’s anything, just speak directly.” Qin Fa’s voice sounded gentle and unhurried.
“It’s like this—I had a dream last night.”
Bai Cha deliberated over her choice of words.
“I dreamed of a monster. Calling it a monster… it’s actually hard for me to describe—it was a mass of black threads.”
As she spoke, her eyes refrained from looking at Qin Fa, her entire focus dedicated to making a concerted effort to recall last night’s dream.
A sharp, menacing glint flashed through Qin Fa’s eyes, however.
“Threads?”
“Yes!” Bai Cha nodded continuously while stealing a somewhat embarrassed glance at Qin Fa.
“Those threads kept entangling me, trying to eat me up. Later on, they even transformed into your likeness, Doctor Qin. For some reason, I felt it was somewhat ominous—what do you think this dream signifies?”
She stared at Qin Fa intently.
Qin Fa locked gazes with her for a moment before speaking: “It’s likely because treatments have been rather frequent lately, causing you some stress that manifested in your mind. There’s no need to worry about a dream like this.”
Bai Cha nodded, maintaining that same hesitant, tongue-tied appearance of wanting to say more.
“But afterward… I even dreamed of your physical body, Doctor Qin—multiplying continuously like tumor cells, turning into a massive white mass.”
“Is that also because I’m under stress? Why did I dream of changes happening to your body, Doctor Qin?”
Qin Fa pushed up his glasses, saying, “That’s completely normal. Quite often, concrete imagery in dreams involves changes occurring to someone familiar to you. You don’t need to overthink it—it’s nothing, head outside for now.”
“Alright… when will my treatment be?” Bai Cha stole a lingering glance at him.
“Around noon then. Since you’re under stress, we’ll stick to one session at noon and another in the afternoon.”
Bai Cha nodded, taking her leave with deep reluctance.
Qin Fa yanked off his glasses instantly, his brows tightly knitted.
The dream Bai Cha described was naturally remarkably similar to the Tai Sui.
Having a dream like this wasn’t particularly strange; after all, every treatment session left psychological scars inside her mind, preserving memories within her subconscious.
Yet he still looked down at his own hands.
Because melting into the Tai Sui was a concrete reality.
This was precisely why he had been desperately seeking a method to control the Tai Sui all along—the so-called extending of lifespans for those wealthy individuals was merely a front to search for experimental subjects.
These experimental subjects who delivered themselves to his door were the easiest to use.
Not only did he avoid spending money personally, but if something truly went wrong, the other party held nowhere to appeal.
After all, who would believe an elderly person returning to youth? And if an elderly person passed away, that was entirely normal.
Consequently, he couldn’t confirm right now whether Bai Cha’s dream was purely an expression of her subconscious fears, or if she had sensed something due to overly frequent connections with the Tai Sui.
It appeared this woman couldn’t be allowed to die too quickly just yet—he had to see if she could produce other dreams.
Bai Cha had returned to her ward by now.
Someone was currently replacing the surveillance camera inside the room.
Li Xiang remained in her usual posture, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, while He Yan stared off into space; both were clever enough to cooperate in acting.
The new surveillance camera was installed in short order, meaning the room entered the monitored zone once again.
Tricky indeed.
With nothing easy to do, Bai Cha simply lay in bed to sleep for a bit and catch up on rest.
And then, she genuinely fell into a dream.
In the dream, she inhabited Li Yun’s perspective during Li Yun’s early childhood.
A woman was beating her.
Pain radiated across her entire body.
Simultaneously, Bai Cha caught sight of a teenage girl clinging to the woman’s back.
Wearing a malicious expression on her face, she grabbed the woman’s hands, driving them to strike her body strike after strike.
This woman was clearly Li Qunfang.
Then that teenage girl… was she Li Qunfang’s daughter who had committed suicide?
Bai Cha passed out from the pain; by the time she awoke, the surrounding scene had shifted.
She was looking into a mirror, yet the reflection inside belonged to that teenage girl.
She continued fixating that dark, venomous gaze—brimming with hatred—upon her.
“You stole my mother away,” her mouth parted, uttering no sound, yet Bai Cha understood what she was saying.
Young Li Yun inside the dream felt terrified, and this terror influenced her emotional state as well.
From that moment onward, regardless of what she was doing, she always felt a pair of eyes watching her.
Inadvertent glances every now and then would reveal a pair of eyes seemingly lurking beside her.
Even in a group photo with Li Qunfang, a pair of eyes was distinctly visible beneath the bed.
Li Yun suffered a near mental breakdown, constantly questioning whether it was a mere illusion or a genuine reality—because whenever she looked closely, those eyes would vanish into thin air.
As if they appeared solely in her dreams, yet felt every bit real in reality—she could no longer distinguish between them.
Until Li Qunfang passed away.
Only after her death did she learn what she had once done, realizing her biological daughter had remained all along, inflicting such terrible harm upon her adopted daughter.
The torment of guilt haunted her, causing her spirit to linger behind.
She sealed her daughter completely inside the mirror.
Yet despite this, the tragedy had already taken root.
Furthermore… as time marched on, subtle shifts occurred within her as well.
Her humanity was steadily diminishing.
She attempted to scare her adopted daughter into realizing that supernatural entities existed in this world.
That way, it would be easier to find someone to resolve the issue.
She had failed her adopted daughter for so many years; if she ultimately proved unable to control herself and turned into something like her daughter, she could only hope her adopted daughter would find someone to dispose of her.
Yet her adopted daughter entered the nursing home.
The good news was that they were incapable of entering the nursing home.
The bad news was that the nursing home harbored a terrifying, bone-chilling presence.
The dream shifted once more, returning Bai Cha to the residence shared by Li Yun and Li Qunfang.
“Little Ai ran away from home after a massive argument with us when she was sixteen, all because her father and I were rarely home.”
An elderly Li Qunfang sat beside her, the two of them inside the living room.
“We didn’t pay much mind back then. By the time we realized, she had already leaped from the top of the building. I always felt immense guilt and felt I owed her so much… but I never imagined she had stayed behind all along.”
And had turned into a creature like that to boot.
“I am truly, deeply sorry… but regardless, hurry and escape from that place! You must escape! I don’t deserve to be your mother, nor did I prove to be a good mother to you. Xiao-Yun, take good care of yourself!”
Having finished her words, Li Qunfang abruptly transformed into a hideous, contorted ghost, pouncing straight toward her.
Bai Cha jolted awake from her bed with a sudden start.
Following that, she felt another stretch of memory flood into her mind.
