Coffee

"Doctor, don't scare me," the fatty said, his face pale and trembling. "Don't mind my build, it's all flab. I'm easily scared."

Jiang Cheng glanced up at him. Seemingly considering the delicious food the fatty cooked, he let him off the hook and didn't press further.

Ever since he started working with Jiang Cheng, the fatty had become much more thick-skinned. After a short while, he was back to his usual bouncy self. "Doctor," the fatty licked his lips and asked softly, "do you think we'll enter the nightmare again after we fall asleep tonight?"

The nightmares were filled with deadly peril, and the eerie yet incredibly real feeling sent shivers down one's spine.

Jiang Cheng, busy hanging wet clothes, stopped what he was doing. After a few seconds of thought, he replied, "Probably not. Although our physical strength fully recovers after escaping a nightmare, our mental energy does not."

The fatty understood Jiang Cheng's meaning. He meant that the mental energy depleted in the nightmare couldn't be recovered like physical strength. If this continued, they would become increasingly exhausted and eventually be drained to death by the nightmares.

From Fan Li and Sister Nuan, they learned that although nightmares were terrifying, they often left a sliver of hope. This clearly contradicted the rules of the nightmares.

"That's good then," the fatty sighed in relief, then spoke again. "I was thinking about whether to force myself to stay awake tonight."

"Meaningless," Jiang Cheng shook his head. "You can only last a few nights. When you can't hold on any longer and fall asleep, you'll surely die in the nightmare."

The word "die" instinctively sent a chill down the fatty's spine. He quickly explained that he was just complaining and wouldn't actually do it.

As night deepened, the distant neon lights flickered on one by one. Through a half-open glass window, they could see the bustling world outside. The fatty rested his chin on his hand, staring blankly out the window.

Recalling the fragments of his experiences in the nightmare made him cherish the beauty of the real world even more.

Jiang Cheng alone was slumped in his office chair, watching a horror movie and eating fries dipped in ketchup. He called the fatty, but the latter refused to come, no matter what.

After finishing the movie, The Old Corpse in the Mountain Village, Jiang Cheng almost fell asleep.

He opened his eyes and saw the fatty curled up on the sofa, covering his ears, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Sensing Jiang Cheng was awake, the fatty looked at him like he'd seen a savior. He removed his hands from his ears and exclaimed, "Doctor, what movie are you watching? That ghost is too scary."

Hearing the fatty's explanation, Jiang Cheng finally understood. The fatty had heard a very eerie singing voice and had gone to turn off the movie, only to encounter Chu Renmei's appearance.

"The ghost you're talking about is called Chu Renmei," Jiang Cheng explained. "She was a woman who suffered in feudal society, and she's also the prototype for Lu Xun's La Dame aux Camélias."

The fatty automatically tuned out Jiang Cheng's words.

After shutting down the computer, the two went upstairs to sleep.

The fatty mentioned that it was a bit cold last night, so Jiang Cheng found him a new quilt. The fatty seized the last opportunity as Jiang Cheng walked into the bedroom to tell him that if he was scared after watching the horror movie, he could accompany him.

Before he could finish speaking, the bedroom door slammed shut with a "bang," followed by the sound of a lock clicking.

The fatty smacked his lips and lay down with reluctance. Jiang Cheng had reminded him earlier that it was best to wear clothes and shoes before sleeping.

So, the fatty had washed his shoes while the sun was good today and bought a new pair of sneakers when he went out to buy groceries. He was wearing them now.

The studio was located in a rather secluded area, making it very quiet at night.

Jiang Cheng habitually pulled the quilt up to his chin, his breathing steady and even.

His physique was very different from that of an ordinary person. He wasn't very sensitive to cold or heat, rarely got sick, and his pain receptors were rather dull.

Sometimes he even felt like a tool without emotions.

He drifted off to sleep in a daze.

He slept very soundly.

An inexplicable melody echoed in his ears.

It wasn't classical, pop, or jazz. The melody of this piece was unlike any genre he knew.

This sound seemed to be born from darkness.

Born from darkness, and returning to darkness.

Jiang Cheng felt everything slipping away from him. He felt as if he were sinking to the bottom of the ocean, or perhaps walking into a tunnel with no end.

Despair, only despair, and nothing else.

A crisp cracking sound rang out, like a piece of pure black cloth being torn apart by brute force. Jiang Cheng suddenly woke up.

He found himself standing in the corner of the studio's first floor, facing a black iron door.

His body commanded before his mind could react. He reached out and pushed open the door in front of him.

After a strange wave of dizziness, his feet seemed to find support again, stepping onto solid ground.

Before him was a school-like building, not very large, visible at a glance.

Several buildings stood quietly in the afterglow of the setting sun, casting deep gray shadows, possessing a rather romantic aura.

He squinted at the sunset, judging that the time in this world was probably around 4 or 5 PM.

He didn't see anyone else nearby for the moment, and the school gate was already closed.

He shielded his eyes from the glaring sun, stared at the school for a few moments, then decisively turned around and walked in the opposite direction.