After the Early-Deceased White Moonlight of a Wealthy Family Returns (GL) - Chapter 63

The sky was overcast, with clouds in cold, muted tones.

The Tian’ai Sanitarium Hospital stood solitary at the end of the long street, its white buildings appearing hazy and silent under the shroud of the morning mist.

Su Wu drove along the path through the main gate and parked in the courtyard. She looked back at the two people who shouldn’t have been in the car in the first place.

“Wake up, we’re here.”

Shen You’an followed her gaze and looked back as well.

Meng Xi was the first to hear the voice. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “So soon? I’m dying of sleep. Old Shen, get up, stop sleeping.”

Shen Huaijin was slapped awake by her. She raised a hand to instinctively counter-attack without even opening her eyes.

Su Wu: “Why do you two trouble yourselves?”

Drowsy and slurring her words, Meng Xi muttered vaguely, “Who… who knew you guys would set out so early?”

She and Shen Huaijin had volunteered to accompany Su Wu and Shen You’an to Tian’ai to check things out. The consequence was being called out of the house at six in the morning. Even now, they weren’t fully awake.

“Sister Meng Xi, why don’t you and my sister sleep in the car a bit longer? We’ll head out first to check the situation,” Shen You’an suggested thoughtfully.

Meng Xi was genuinely tempted; she reached out to hug the pillow in the back seat. “…That’s not a bad idea.”

Shen Huaijin slapped her back. “Like hell it is. Get out of the car.”

Meng Xi wailed, “Talk with your mouth, why are you using your hands?”

Shen Huaijin: “You were talking with your mouth just now, so why did you use your hands?”

Meng Xi: “If I didn’t use my hands, you’d still be sleeping!”

Seeing the two start bickering again, Su Wu and Shen You’an in the passenger seat exchanged a look and both stepped out of the car. The car keys were tossed into the back row. Meng Xi caught them instinctively.

“You’an and I will go register first. You two tidy up and come over yourselves,” Su Wu arranged.

Meng Xi gave an “eh”: “Fine.” She turned to ask Shen Huaijin, “But what do we need to tidy up?”

Shen Huaijin looked at her hair—messy from sleeping in all directions in the car—and her face, which was covered in strange red sleep marks. She pursed her lips for at least eight seconds before finally failing to suppress a laugh.

Meng Xi: “???”

She sat up to grab the rearview mirror and adjusted it toward herself. Seeing her current state, Meng Xi: “…………”

Fine. Tidying up was necessary.

By the time Meng Xi and Shen Huaijin got out of the car, Su Wu and Shen You’an were nowhere to be seen.

“Where are they?” Shen Huaijin asked.

Meng Xi: “Didn’t Old Su just say they were going to register? Probably at the front desk. Let’s go check.”

Shen Huaijin looked around. “Xizi, don’t you feel like things are a bit weird around here?”

Meng Xi followed her gaze, puzzled. “What’s weird?”

Shen Huaijin frowned. “I don’t know, it feels different from the last time I came.”

Meng Xi: “When was the last time you were here?”

Shen Huaijin counted on her fingers. “Three? Four years ago? When my mom came to Tian’ai for the last time.”

Meng Xi: “Strictly speaking, the time you mentioned wasn’t actually the last time Auntie came to Tian’ai.”

“???”

“After seeing You’an, Auntie came to Tian’ai once.”

Shen Huaijin: “…What?!”

Shen Huaijin: “No one told me about this before!!”

Meng Xi cleared her throat. “My bad. Old Su told me to tell you, but I forgot. But it’s not important; look, aren’t we here to investigate now?”

“Old Shen, actually, over these years, Su Wu has always been keeping an eye on Tian’ai. You know, I told you, her intuition is terrifyingly strong sometimes.”

“So, she and I are regulars here; we’ve probably been here more than you have.”

“I don’t think anything’s strange.” Meng Xi patted Shen Huaijin’s shoulder. “This place looks no different from the last time I came.”

“Maybe it’s just been too long for you,” Meng Xi said.

Shen Huaijin: “Maybe.”

The two walked toward the hospital’s front desk. The electronic screen at the entrance scrolled through today’s appointment information, and the automatic glass doors made a soft “beep.” Sensing Shen Huaijin and Meng Xi’s approach, the glass doors opened automatically.

The interior of the hospital was bright and clean, the walls painted a pale beige, and the air was filled with a faint scent of disinfectant. At the reception desk stood a nurse in a white uniform. She was looking down, flipping through medical records, her fingertips tapping the keyboard rhythmically, seemingly unaware of their arrival. At the end of the corridor, the low murmurs of patients could be heard, occasionally mixed with a doctor’s soft reassurance.

Everything was normal.

Meng Xi walked up to the nurse. “Hello, we’re here to register.”

Nurse: “Hello, do you have an appointment?”

Meng Xi: “Oh, we should. we’re with the two people who just came in—Ms. Su and Ms. Shen. They should have an appointment. Could you check?”

The nurse’s typing paused for a second. “Ms. Su, Ms. Shen?”

“Yes, yes,” Meng Xi explained. “Su Wu. Check that name; it should be there.”

The nurse lowered her head, eyes on the screen, and tapped the keys a few more times.

As Meng Xi waited patiently, she suddenly felt her clothes being gripped tightly by the person beside her.

She was puzzled. “What is it, Old Shen?”

Shen Huaijin’s voice came out trembling: “…Meng Xi, look over there.”

Meng Xi thought, What’s the deal? Why be scared? Is Shen Huaijin playing ghost to get back at the slap from earlier? But hadn’t she already slapped her back?

Baffled, Meng Xi said casually, “I’ll look.” She turned around as directed.

Nothing was wrong. Everything was normal. The clock on the wall moved systematically; the lobby floor was cleaned to a brilliant shine; outside, the nurse leading patients out for the morning sun moved slowly.

“What?” Meng Xi asked.

Shen Huaijin lowered her voice. “The floor. Look at the floor.”

Meng Xi’s gaze dropped back to the floor. The tiles were clean enough to reflect, and a cluster of shadows lay there under the light.

“I’m looking.” She still didn’t get it.

Shen Huaijin: “…There are only two of us.”

Meng Xi suddenly looked back at the shadows. One, two, three…

Her heart tightened instantly. She gave a forced laugh. “Is this a joke? The nurse is there too.” She turned back to the nurse. “Hello, did you find our appointment?”

The nurse didn’t answer. There was only the incessant click-clack of fingertips hitting the keyboard.

Everything around them fell silent.

Meng Xi began to sense something wrong. Yes, the clock was moving normally, but every time it swung, the sound it made was accompanied by a strange “thump,” a sound an ordinary clock shouldn’t make. Rather than a clock, it sounded more like a heart beating. In the vents blowing warm air in this late autumn/early winter, amidst the quiet hum of appliances, there was a faint sound of human panting.

Meng Xi swallowed hard, her eyes moving to the shadow Shen Huaijin had found strange. She suddenly realized—the nurse was behind the desk; even if she had a shadow, it wouldn’t be merged with theirs. This shadow was too strange; it didn’t look like that of a person of normal height, but rather like some kind of monster.

At that moment, the nurse finally spoke. “Hello, your appointment… has been confirmed.”

Her voice sounded as if it were squeezed from the depths of her throat, with a raspy edge. Meng Xi turned abruptly. The nurse was looking at her, the corners of her mouth curved into a grotesque arc. Her eyes were deep and lightless, her black pupils dilated to fill the entire eyeball, and her smile was stiff and unnatural.

Meng Xi was pinned to the spot. Before she could process what was happening, her frozen body was snatched away by Shen Huaijin.

“Run!!”

Shen Huaijin’s years of extreme mountain climbing had given her excellent reflexes. She dragged Meng Xi toward the entrance, but just as they were about to burst through, the glass doors slammed shut with a thud.

Beep, beep, beep.

A short alarm rang through the space. The electronic screen, which had been full of appointment info, was now blank—the text seemingly wiped away by an invisible hand. Then, a row of blood-red words emerged:

[MENG XI, SHEN HUAIJIN, APPOINTMENT CONFIRMED]

[YOU HAVE BEEN ADMITTED. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE.]

“Holy crap?!?” Meng Xi was nearly scared to death. “What the hell is this!!!”

Shen Huaijin didn’t speak, looking around alertly.

Meng Xi gripped her arm tight. “Old Shen, Old Shen, quick, slap me twice!”

Shen Huaijin: “What are you doing?”

Meng Xi: “I need to wake up!!!” She spoke incoherently, “I must be dreaming, this damn dream-within-a-dream. My god! I hate these kinds of dreams the most!” The feeling of knowing everything is absurd and unrealistic and must be a dream, yet being unable to wake up and only able to struggle within it, was truly terrifying.

Meng Xi: “Quick! Slap me!!”

Shen Huaijin pursed her lips and delivered two sharp slaps, left and right.

Meng Xi: “…………”

Meng Xi: “Why haven’t I woken up?”

Shen Huaijin suppressed her breakdown. “Because you aren’t sleeping! Meng Xi! This is reality!!”

Meng Xi shook her head repeatedly. “Impossible, impossible! Absolutely impossible!!” She cursed at Shen Huaijin, “You mother-effer, you’re sleeping too deeply, aren’t you?! Wake up! This is a dream!”

Shen Huaijin shouted back, “Use that decorative brain of yours and think! When have I ever shared a dream with you?!”

Meng Xi: “…Crap.”

Meng Xi: “Then is this my dream or yours?!”

Shen Huaijin: “A dream my ass!” She gripped Meng Xi’s hand. “Never mind if it’s a dream or reality. Think about what we should do now. Even if it is a dream, there’s no point in just standing here waiting to die!”

“…If—if this isn’t a dream, then where’s Old Su? Where’s You’an?! Where did they go?!” Meng Xi’s eyes went wide with pure terror. “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap—!”

She suppressed her screams in her throat.

As Shen Huaijin looked back, the environment of the Tian’ai lobby was distorting—the walls darkened, no longer a healing beige but turning sinister and terrifying. On the polished floor, blood began to seep and overflow from the cracks in the tiles. The air conditioner that had provided warmth now blew the scent of rot toward them.

The patients who had been walking pleasantly in the corridor just moments ago were now stiff-bodied, their heads tilted at odd angles, the gashes at their necks so deep they could be seen at a glance. Black blood constantly oozed from them, and incoherent murmurs came from their mouths.

“Treatment…”

“I need treatment…”

Their voices sounded distant yet near, with an unhuman rasp. As they swayed, the patients suddenly lunged forward, their withered fingers splayed, fingernails split to reveal bone-white fragments, sharp enough to tear apart any living thing.

Shen Huaijin grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it against the glass door. After a few hits, the patients who had been walking in the garden outside also began to transform, lunging at the door like madmen.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Meng Xi was almost in tears, slapping her own cheeks mercilessly. “Stupid brain! Wake up! Wake up!!”

Shen Huaijin threw the chair at a zombie patient lunging toward them, grabbed Meng Xi’s limp body, and ran toward a side door passage without a second word. As she ran, she shouted: “You’an!”

“SHEN YOU’AN!!!!”

“It’s Sister!” Shen You’an turned quickly toward the sound, but all she could see was an empty, silent corridor. She frowned with concern. “Her voice sounds wrong. A-jie, did something happen?”

Su Wu: “I’ll call her.” Su Wu pulled out her phone, but the signal bar showed zero.

Something was wrong. Su Wu’s brow furrowed.

“A-jie?” You’an was worried. “Something happened, right?”

Su Wu immediately gripped You’an’s hand. “I don’t know what happened, but it’s very wrong. I’ve been to Tian’ai many times; this is the first time I’ve had no signal. And it’s too quiet today.”

Shen You’an held her hand back and observed their surroundings. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her reddened pupils swirled with a color unique to a monster. Her ears twitched slightly, her auditory sense amplified a thousand-fold, acutely capturing everything in the space.

“A-jie—” Shen You’an said word by word, “There is no one here.”

“To be precise, there are no living people.”

Su Wu looked at her, but before she could think, she was pulled into a warm embrace in the next instant. You’an’s suddenly sprouted bone wings enveloped her completely, forming an armor-like shield of safety. The girl’s hands held her waist tight, and she pushed off the ground, carrying her into the air to dodge something.

Su Wu gripped her clothes. “You’an, what is it?”

Shen You’an’s voice was calm. “Nothing.”

“Just a few cockroaches.”

She brought Su Wu into her protection from head to toe, burying the woman’s head in her chest. The eighteen-year-old girl’s previously slender frame suddenly became elongated and powerful; a nearly two-meter-tall monster appeared in the white corridor. In front of her, a pale-faced zombie patient reached out, crawling toward her with its last bit of strength.

Without a glance, Shen You’an’s bone wings sprouted a sharp spike, piercing through the other’s brain. In the moment blood and brains splattered, the zombie turned to dust and dispersed completely.

Dozens, hundreds of zombies lunged at them recklessly. Shen You’an remained expressionless, skewering them all five meters away. Black blood sprayed, but it could only land on her wings, unable to touch Su Wu in the slightest.

They were blocking her from reaching the room at the end of the hall. Shen You’an ignored everything, holding Su Wu tight as she flew forward like an arrow, reaching their destination in an instant.

On the door, a distorted figure slithered slowly. It had no face, only a bloody mouth-hole, murmuring low, inaudible sounds as if calling for something.

“Kekeke—”

“Shen You’an—”

“So many years without meeting, and you’re still such a fighter. Oh, what beautiful wings, what a healthy body. Why? Why are you always so lucky? Why?! Why is it YOU!!”

Shen You’an’s expression remained indifferent and unmoved. Her fingertips turned into blades, a claw ripping through the mouth. Amidst its pained screams, she reduced the door to dust.

The E307 consultation room fell into her view. The room was quiet and cozy, a stark contrast to the madness outside. Those monsters all stayed at the door, not daring to take a single step inside.

Shen You’an observed carefully. Once she confirmed there was nothing unusual in the room, she gently placed the Su Wu she had been protecting onto a soft sofa.

“A-jie.” In the moment Su Wu regained her sight, You’an had quickly returned to her girl form, kneeling on the ground before the woman. She held Su Wu’s cold palms tightly. “A-jie, are you okay?”

Su Wu: “I’m fine.” She looked at her. “What is the situation?”

Shen You’an frowned. “I don’t know. But the person who did this is clearly coming for me. They know me. And A-jie, I smell it. There’s a familiar scent in the air.”

“What scent?”

“The scent of that world.” Shen You’an’s expression was solemn. “You were right. The opponent we face is an existence that was once in the same world as me.”

“Don’t be afraid.” Su Wu placed her palm against the girl’s cheek. You’an instinctively leaned in and nuzzled it like an animal.

Su Wu said: “No matter what just happened, You’an, this is all just an illusion.”

“An illusion?”

Su Wu’s expression was cold. “Exactly.”

“Remember what we discussed—the person behind Shen Run has the ability to distort memories. I think the situation we face now is the same.” Su Wu’s logic was clear. “Since it’s an illusion, there must be a way to break it. Don’t panic.”

“Shen Huaijin and Meng Xi must have been pulled into this illusion too. If we find a way to break it, they will be safe as well.”

“…An illusion?” Shen You’an looked around, her frown deepening. If it were reality, she could just rip everything apart with her claws. But an illusion? How do you destroy something so nebulous?

Su Wu pinched her cheek. “Don’t frown. You have me.” She observed their surroundings calmly. Everything in the room matched what a standard psychological consultation room should have. The room faced south, with three frosted glass windows filtering soft sunlight—a design meant to effectively lower a visitor’s guard. The walls were a low-saturation gray-blue, and the wood bookshelves were filled with professional books, the plastic covers of a few journals slightly curled at the edges. A square side table stood next to the beige-gray fabric sofa, and a white porcelain vase held a fresh bellflower. Water droplets still clung to the edges of the petals, and the cut stem oozed translucent sap.

It was too fresh.

Su Wu’s lips curled coldly, her voice like a scalpel scraping glass, vibrating in the air with a chilling tone.

“Si Qi, stop hiding.”

Before Shen You’an could react, a light laugh echoed in the quiet room. “As expected, President Su, you do care about me.”

On the psychological sand table in the center of the room, a figure was suddenly projected. A frail-looking girl in a wheelchair, smiling tenderly and lingeringly.

“How did you know it was me?”

“What obligation do I have to explain to you?” Su Wu’s voice was cold as a winter’s day, like the sharp icicles hanging from the eaves in a snowstorm.

“Hehehe.” The figure Si Qi had formed with sand rose from the wheelchair and floated over, attempting to get close to Su Wu, only to be ripped apart by one of You’an’s claws. The sand scattered on the floor and quickly reassembled.

“You’an, you’re so heartless.” Si Qi pouted. “We’ve been old friends for years; is it necessary to be so brutal?”

“I don’t know you,” Shen You’an said, partially blocking Su Wu with her body.

Si Qi: “That’s not right. It’s not that you don’t know me, you just don’t remember me.” Halfway through her sentence, she let out a startled “Ah!” as if she had suddenly realized something. She clapped her hands, a delicate smile on her lips. “Sister Su Wu, and you still say you don’t care about me? If you didn’t, how could you remember that the perfume I wear is also the scent of these white bellflowers?”

“I was only that little bit close to you on the cruise, and you remembered it all.” She laughed softly and looked at Shen You’an with a sinister gaze. “Well? Did you like the gift I gave you that day? You must have been surprised, right? If it weren’t for Su Wu proactively going to find you that day and giving you the ring she was wearing, you might have transformed right there on the ship.”

“What a shame.” She lowered her eyes and sighed, a flicker of cruelty passing through them. “I wanted everyone to admire the monster’s form that day—what a beautiful scene that would have been! A black monster emerging from the burning flames on the night sea! Ah! Shen You’an!! Look! I had the whole script written for you!!”

Si Qi’s face turned grotesque. “Why couldn’t you just follow the script?”

“If everything had gone according to plan that day, there wouldn’t be all these new situations now.” Her face shifted again, her features returning to a frail appearance. “What a shame.”

“I’m actually a very kind person. I didn’t want to do anything to Meng Xi and Shen Huaijin. But what choice did I have?”

She tapped her finger, and the sand on the table rose quickly to form a screen-like veil. The figures of Meng Xi and Shen Huaijin appeared upon it. They were cornered; Meng Xi was screaming madly with her eyes shut, waving a broken glass bottle at zombies. Shen Huaijin was carrying a fire extinguisher; after spraying it, she swung it forward at the horde.

“How heroic!” Si Qi remarked. She snapped her fingers, and the scene shifted to show Huaijin and Meng Xi sitting in the back seat of a car with their eyes closed, flailing and attacking each other.

“Shen You’an, I have a new script. Want to hear it? Shen Huaijin inherited her mother’s madness and accidentally killed her friend. Afterward, she committed suicide in despair. Do you like this script?”

The fires of rage burned fiercely in Shen You’an’s heart.

“What do you want me to do?” she answered directly. “I know I’m your target.”

“Smart.” Si Qi leaned in, her palm stroking You’an’s wings, her fingertips slow and soft as if touching the most precious thing in the world. She leaned against them, hugging the wings, her face rubbing against the cold, lifeless bone. “You’an, I like this.”

SHINK!

One of the sharp, bone wings was snapped off by Shen You’an’s own hand. She remained expressionless. “What else?”

“Hahaha! Hahahaha!” Si Qi laughed until tears came. Then, her eyes cold, she looked at You’an.

“I. WANT. YOU.”

“Come and catch up with me, Shen You’an. If you come in, I’ll let them all go. And while I’m at it, I’ll tell you exactly what you’ve forgotten.”

The sand swirled into a vortex, seemingly possessing infinite suction, capable of devouring anything that drew near.

Shen You’an lowered her gaze. Su Wu immediately grabbed her.

“Don’t.” The icicles on the eaves shattered; Su Wu’s eyes were full of worry and tension. “You’an, don’t go.”