Jiang Cheng let out an affected sigh. "I didn't understand at first either, but now that I think about it, she might have a mild case of Stockholm syndrome—what people commonly call hostage syndrome. So I was thinking..."
The fat man's heart gave a jolt. "Thinking what?"
"I think she might be into me." Jiang Cheng sounded rather helpless.
The fat man: "..."
Jiang Cheng waited a moment, then realized the fat man wasn't saying anything. He turned to look at him. "Why aren't you saying anything?"
The fat man took a deep breath. "Give me a minute to process that."
Just as Jiang Cheng was eagerly about to explain to the fat man that Chen Xiaomeng's feelings for him weren't purely because he was handsome, his stomach let out an involuntary growl.
The fat man perked right up. He asked Jiang Cheng if he was hungry and offered to make him something to eat.
Remembering the fat man's impressive cooking skills during the mission, Jiang Cheng nodded and pointed toward the kitchen. The fat man bolted off as if escaping for his life.
People said psychologists were generally a little crazy themselves. The fat man finally believed it.
Jiang Cheng rarely cooked, and most of what filled his fridge was frozen food. There was also a box of Kang Shuai Fu instant noodles in the corner, bought in bulk during a supermarket sale.
After half an hour of effort, the fat man had managed to cobble together two dishes.
There was no staple food, so he opened a few packets of instant noodles and stir-fried them. When he brought everything over, Jiang Cheng wolfed down more than half of it by himself.
"Doctor," the fat man said, putting down his bowl after a mouthful of noodles. "Do you usually live here alone?"
Jiang Cheng picked up the plate and scraped the remaining food into his bowl. He ate it in one bite, then pulled out a tissue to wipe his mouth and nodded. "Most of the time. And I don't plan on taking anyone else in."
The fat man wore a pained expression. "Doctor, don't be like that. I may not be as wise or as handsome as you, but I've had a lot of jobs. I'm sure I can be useful."
Jiang Cheng looked at the empty bowls on the table as if he were genuinely considering it, but didn't answer right away.
The fat man thought he had a chance. His spirits soared, and he said excitedly, "Doctor, you don't have to decide right away. Think it over carefully. I'm really useful!"
"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Jiang Cheng rolled his slightly stiff neck. "I'm tired. Let's go to bed."
The fat man quickly gathered up the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. The sound of running water and clattering dishes soon followed. "Doctor, go to bed first. I'll wash up, then make do on the sofa for the night."
But when the fat man finished washing the dishes and came out of the kitchen, shaking the water from his hands, he saw Jiang Cheng sitting on the sofa by the table, apparently without having moved at all.
"Doctor," the fat man asked in confusion. "Is something the matter?"
Jiang Cheng gave him a once-over, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Go upstairs and sleep too. I'm afraid of the dark when I'm alone."
The fat man froze. Then, as if he'd thought of something terrible, he said in a panic, "Doctor, I'm not the kind of person you think I am!"
"You're not?"
The fat man thought it over, then said firmly, "I wouldn't be, even if I were dead!"
"All right, then." Jiang Cheng stood up naturally, without the slightest hint of trying to force the issue. He headed for the stairs and started up. When he was almost out of sight, he stopped and glanced back at the fat man. "Be careful tonight." He pointed at the wall opposite. "The door from my dream appeared there. And I'm not like you—I didn't walk through that door myself. A gigantic ghost hand reached out from inside and dragged me in."
With that, Jiang Cheng went upstairs without looking back.
After Jiang Cheng left, the fat man sat alone on the sofa, staring at that wall, too uneasy to sit still.
He couldn't tell whether Jiang Cheng was telling the truth. Jiang Cheng didn't like to do things by the book, but in a sense, he was trustworthy. After all, he'd brought the fat man out of the Nightmare World alive.
Whenever the fat man closed his eyes, he seemed to see the iron door Jiang Cheng had described appear again, with a huge, clawing ghost hand reaching out from inside.
The pale-faced fat man lasted less than five minutes downstairs before he came pounding up the stairs. At the top, he ran straight into Jiang Cheng, who was leaning against the handrail beside the stairs, apparently waiting for him.
Before he could say anything, Jiang Cheng spoke first. "You can sleep in the living room. I'll sleep in the room."
The fat man followed Jiang Cheng's gaze to a door that divided the small living room. The bedroom must be inside.
"Doctor," the fat man said with righteous conviction, "if you're afraid of the dark, I can consider squeezing in with you."
Jiang Cheng lay on the mattress, not particularly sleepy. His eyes were half closed as he stared at the empty ceiling, while scenes from the nightmare played over and over in his mind.
The fat man was in the living room outside. He'd suggested that Jiang Cheng leave the door open so they could look out for each other.
But Jiang Cheng didn't think he needed the fat man to look out for him, so he'd politely declined. He'd shut the door as usual, and even locked it.
He didn't feel safe leaving a stranger downstairs, so the fat man had to stay upstairs.
Thinking about what had happened not long ago, Jiang Cheng naturally recalled Hu Yan, who'd gone missing, and her younger sister, who'd disappeared before her.
Their disappearances were probably related to this so-called nightmare.
According to Fan Li, people who died in the nightmare disappeared in the real world.
They vanished without warning or explanation, in an eerie fashion.
The missing-person notice for Hu Yan clearly stated that she'd disappeared in the middle of the night, still wearing a light pink silk nightgown.
Even her husband, who'd been sharing her bed, hadn't noticed a thing.
The middle-aged man who'd been the first to die during a nightmare mission had once asked how they could escape the nightmare for good. Fan Li's answer had been to stop asking such stupid questions.
Jiang Cheng believed there had to be a way out of the nightmare. It was just that people like Fan Li or the middle-aged man either didn't know what it was, or knew but didn't want to share it with anyone else.
As he pondered, sleepiness gradually crept over him. Jiang Cheng didn't try to fight it. He let himself drift off and closed his eyes.
The physical strength he'd used up in the nightmare had returned to his body once it ended, but his mental energy hadn't recovered. He slept deeply.
Half asleep, he heard a series of clanging sounds, like construction work going on next door or someone hammering nails somewhere nearby. Even the floor was trembling slightly.
He rolled onto his side, curled up, pulled the covers over his head, and went back to sleep.
What finally forced him to open his eyes was a knock at the door.
"Doctor!" The fat man's loud voice came from outside the bedroom. "Are you up?"
After getting up and tidying himself a little, Jiang Cheng opened the door and walked out.
The living room outside the bedroom was empty. There was no sign of the fat man, so he went downstairs.
His phone showed that it was already eleven in the morning. Jiang Cheng hadn't expected to sleep until noon. Even now, his head still felt heavy.
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