Jian Ran got out of bed with his hair looking like a bird's nest and discovered dozens of missed calls on his silenced phone. He was momentarily bewildered.
What the hell?!
Did my place catch fire last night?!
He scanned the room through sleepy eyes. Only after finding everything intact did he lazily return the call. The other end picked up almost instantly, immediately bursting into wails.
"My lord! My almighty lord!"
"Don't call me that," Jian Ran said, his voice still a little hoarse. "I can't offer you any divine protection."
Xu Xuda cried even harder. "Jian Ran, stop messing with me. Why did you turn down Director Feng's offer? He won a gold award! He's thriving in the film industry and has serious status. Just act in one of his films and you're guaranteed to rake in awards."
"Didn't you say it was some tiny outfit? That I could easily get scammed?" Jian Ran said unhurriedly.
"Jian Ran, I was wrong, okay? I'll even apologize publicly on Weibo." Xu Xuda whined tearfully.
Jian Ran shook his head, his stance still firm. "No. I did a divination. Taking this role would bode terribly ill."
After some back-and-forth over the phone, Xu Xuda failed to persuade him and hung up, despondent.
Jian Ran brewed a cup of drip-bag coffee, walked over to his computer, and began searching for information on the Sixth People's Hospital.
Although he had decided against taking the job, he still couldn't suppress his curiosity. After all, supernatural incidents held an innate attraction for disciples of the Mystical Sect.
Since the case was twenty-five years old, information remained pitifully scarce. Only one or two long-established forums had threads discussing it.
Jian Ran clicked one open, his expression gradually growing grave.
[Everyone in the hospital died in a