Doctor Jiang

Hearing footsteps coming downstairs, the fat man poked his head out of the kitchen. "Doctor, sorry for the trouble, but could you sit for a while? The food will be ready soon."

Jiang Cheng gave a vague "Mm" and walked over to the couch. Memories of the previous night came to him in fits and starts, sometimes clear, sometimes fragmented, leaving him with a dull ache in his head.

He raised his head and realized that someone seemed to have repaired the office.

One side of the shelf where patient files were kept had been on the verge of collapsing. To save himself the trouble, Jiang Cheng had simply wrapped it up with wide tape and made do.

Now the tape had been removed, and two long nails had been hammered into the broken part to hold it in place. The rust on the shelf's metal brackets had also been cleaned off.

The tangled wires along the wall and ceiling had been carefully separated and neatly secured where they belonged.

A folding ladder had been put away and leaned against the wall. Someone had probably been worried about dirtying the wall, because a piece of paper had been wedged between it and the ladder.

On the floor beside the desk lay a sheet of old newspaper. A hammer, a pair of blunt-tipped scissors, a roll of black electrical tape, and metal nails of various sizes had been placed on top of it.

This must have been what had caused the clanging noises early that morning.

"Doctor," the fat man called from the kitchen over the rush of running water, making the place feel bustling and lively. "Do you eat spicy food? I made scallion-scented ribs."

"That's fine," Jiang Cheng called back. "But go easy on the spice. I'm going through puberty, so I break out easily."

The fat man's movements paused noticeably, but soon resumed as normal.

Jiang Cheng was leaning back on the couch when the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, swiped right, and answered.

"Doctor Jiang." A man's voice came through the phone. He sounded quite young. "Are you at your office now?"

"I am."

"Then I'll head over right away," the man said excitedly. "I'm nearby, about half an hour away."

"Okay." Jiang Cheng nodded, then hung up.

Just then, the fat man came out carrying the pot. Its sides were scorching hot, so he had wrapped the handles with a few tissues.

Even so, he hurried over and set the pot down. He immediately pulled his hands back, and several of his thick fingers had turned slightly red.

Noticing Jiang Cheng watching him, the fat man gave an embarrassed chuckle and explained that he couldn't find a basin or anything like that, so he'd had to make do.

"There are dishcloths in the kitchen," Jiang Cheng suddenly said.

The fat man froze. It took him a few seconds to realize Jiang Cheng was talking about his burned fingers. Touched, he said with tears in his eyes, "Doctor, thank—"

But he hadn't expected—

Jiang Cheng stared at the tissues the fat man had used and pursed his lips. "Tissues don't grow on trees, you know. And you used so many."

"..."

That was what he said, but the fat man's cooking really was beyond reproach. Jiang Cheng ate more than half the pot of ribs by himself and polished off two large bowls of rice.

If the fat man hadn't snatched away the last rib at the last second, he might not have even gotten to taste his own cooking.

"How is it?" The fat man looked at Jiang Cheng expectantly. "My cooking's not bad, right, Doctor? I learned from the head chef at Zuixianlou back in the day. I used to be his apprentice."

Jiang Cheng set down his bowl and pulled out a tissue to wipe the oily sauce from the scallion-braised ribs off the corner of his mouth. "It's all right." He let out a sudden belch, then continued once he'd recovered. "But you've been working on it for so long. I'd feel bad if I didn't eat more."

The fat man could barely hide his disappointment. He quietly gathered up the pot and dishes, then returned to the kitchen.

Jiang Cheng looked at the tabletop, which had been wiped so clean it practically reflected his face. "Fatty?"

The sounds from the kitchen stopped. After a while, the fat man called out, "Did you call me, Doctor?"

"I've got a client coming by in a bit." Jiang Cheng's voice was perfectly calm, with an unmistakably authoritative note. "So I need you to—"

The fat man let out a breath and replied ten seconds later, "I understand. I'll leave once I've finished cleaning up." He paused. "Anyway, I still want to thank you, Doctor, for helping me in the Nightmare World."

Not long afterward, the fat man dried his hands and came out of the kitchen. Jiang Cheng was leaning back on the couch. He didn't open his eyes until he saw the fat man walk over.

The fat man took the work coat hanging on the rack and put it back on. Just as he was about to say something, Jiang Cheng cut him off and drawled, "There's a big supermarket nearby. It has a great selection of ingredients, and best of all, they're cheap."

The fat man furrowed his brow in confusion, just as he always did when trying to understand the man in front of him.

"I want stewed ribs for dinner," Jiang Cheng said shamelessly. "Stewing takes a long time, so you'll have to hurry back."

The confusion on the fat man's face gradually gave way to excitement. He readily agreed, "Don't worry, Doctor."

A moment later, the fat man vanished from Jiang Cheng's sight like a gust of wind. Jiang Cheng stood up and walked over to the file shelf, running his fingers along the rows of case files. Before long, he pulled one out.

The name Hu Yan was written on the cover.

He opened the file. It contained a fairly detailed account of Hu Yan's behavior when she had come here, including her habit of shaking her leg and how she had repeatedly glanced in a certain direction while they spoke, seeming extremely wary.

She had been looking toward the door.

Hu Yan had disappeared after dreaming of a door. According to her, her younger sister had too. That was the same as Jiang Cheng's experience, yet different in some ways.

At least Hu Yan and her sister had been able to tell others that they had dreamed of a door. Her sister had told Hu Yan over the phone, and Hu Yan had told Jiang Cheng in person. That meant they hadn't entered the door immediately after dreaming of it.

But Jiang Cheng was different. The fat man was the same. The second they dreamed of the door, they entered the Nightmare World.

When the knock came, Jiang Cheng was sitting beside his desk, flipping through another case file. Without looking up, he said, "Come in."

The door swung open, and a very young man walked in.

He wore a full Armani suit, tortoiseshell glasses, a shirt with a gold-trimmed collar, and a blue-and-white striped tie. His brown leather shoes struck the old floor with a brisk "thud, thud."

"Doctor Jiang." The young man's natural air of confidence was completely ruined by his smile. Whether intentional or not, he had parted his hair down the middle, making him look just like one of the collaborators from a wartime movie.

He bent forward slightly, his face full of obsequiousness.

Jiang Cheng slowly set down the case file in his hands before looking up at him. "Pi Ruan. Is this about your girlfriend again?"

"Yeah." The young man smiled ingratiatingly. "This has been worrying me to death. So here I am again, coming to you for help, Doctor Jiang."