"Let me go! Let me go right now!"
Kongming had lain in the hospital bed for several days. Every time he woke up, he would make a huge scene, leaving everyone in the hospital afraid of him.
"Severe schizophrenia, mania, along with hallucinations—auditory and visual... This patient seems to believe he's some kind of expert from... a fantasy novel? Or an immortal cultivation novel? Anyway, one of those things kids these days like to read."
"Oh, I get it. Like some Immortal Emperor being reborn or something?"
"Hahahaha! Back during the qigong craze, we had patients like that too. They'd say they cultivated qigong and discovered they had a golden core, only for it to turn out to be kidney stones."
"Forget it. Just be careful. His condition still isn't stable. It'd be best to have someone keep an eye on him."
Lying in bed and listening to the conversations of these people in white coats, Kongming's eyes brimmed with fury.
He did not know what kind of divine art He Ping had used, but it truly could deceive him and trap him within an illusion.
"Heh heh... Daoist He, you underestimate Venerable Kongming far too much."
"I reached the Manifest Spirit Realm through years of solid, painstaking cultivation. My will is as firm as a boulder, unwearied by ten thousand tribulations. Do you think such a petty display can stymie me?"
"No matter what tricks you play, I will not be blinded by your schemes. A mere little illusion—no matter how much it tosses and turns—cannot possibly deceive me..."
Kongming drew a deep breath and guarded his mind closely.
And so, he remained in Sixth Psychiatric Hospital for several months. Gradually, Kongming found himself unable to adapt to this life. The reason was simple: he had lost his cultivation