# 275
Chapter 275 – The Ward
“Hello, I’m Dr. Li from Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital.”
In a shabby old bedroom, a man in large black-framed glasses sat holding a medical file, looking refined and gentle.
“Didn’t Dr. Han always come before?”
Opposite him, a black-haired teen asked in puzzlement.
“Dr. Han was promoted to vice-director last year,” Dr. Li said with a smile.
“Oh.”
The boy nodded, then froze; the scene felt oddly familiar.
“Have we met somewhere?” he asked uncertainly.
“Impossible.” Dr. Li shook his head calmly. “I’m new. We’ve never met.”
“Alright…”
“Since I’ve just arrived and don’t know your case yet, let’s start with the basics…” He opened the file.
“Name… Lin Qiye?”
“Yes.”
“Nineteen this year.”
“No, I’m seventeen.” The boy shook his head.
Dr. Li glanced at him. “Understood—probably a clerical error… Tell me, then, about the day ten years ago when you were admitted to our hospital.”
“……”
After a few questions, Dr. Li nodded. “That covers the past. Now, what do you think of it today—about seeing the angel?”
“Pure delusion.” Lin Qiye spoke calmly. “That day I simply slipped off the roof, hit my head, and somehow damaged a nerve in my eyes—blindness followed.”
Dr. Li murmured agreement, hesitated, then slowly asked:
“Do you… remember the Night Watch?”
“Night Watch?” Lin Qiye blinked in confusion.
“Mortal Divine Realm, Shiva’s Grudge, Loki, Phoenix Squad, Master Chen…” Dr. Li listed the names, eyes fixed on Lin Qiye’s, searching.
Lin Qiye frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Silence. Then Dr. Li tried again: “Chen Muye, Zhao Kongcheng? Squad 136—do you remember them?”
At those names, Lin Qiye’s body trembled; bewilderment flooded his calm eyes.
He stared blankly, pain flickering across his face.
RUMBLE—!!
Outside, a thunderclap split the clear sky; daylight dimmed at visible speed.
Wind howled through the narrow window, rattling the papers in Dr. Li’s hands.
Lin Qiye, staring at the white wall, clutched his head, pain blazing in his eyes.
“I… I don’t know…”
Dr. Li’s eyes narrowed behind his lenses. He stood, walked over, gently rubbed the boy’s back, voice turning hypnotic:
“I was only rambling. Forget it—let those words drift away…”
The instant he spoke, Lin Qiye’s pain vanished; confusion returned. He gazed emptily, mind blank.
Outside, the sky brightened; the wind died.
Dr. Li straightened. “That’s enough for today’s review. You’re doing fine—adjust your mindset and live well.”
He shook hands with the dazed Lin Qiye, offered a few encouraging words; Lin Qiye nodded absently.
Dr. Li stepped out. Auntie’s voice rang again:
“Oh, Dr. Li, stay for lunch!”
“No, no, I have another patient. Sorry to trouble you.”
Polite refusal given, Dr. Li closed the front door with a smile—and the instant it shut, Lin Qiye’s smile evaporated as though it had never existed.
“Delusion… huh…” he murmured.
……
Dr. Li pulled shut the alloy steel door behind him; his smile vanished, replaced by utter gravity.
He glanced back at the chamber he’d just left and shook his head helplessly.
It was a ten-square-meter alloy cube of unknown silver-white metal—part cell, part vault, walls nearly a meter thick. The only way in or out: a single massive door secured by six distinct verification systems.
Outside the cube stretched a vast black room ringed by twelve cameras, monitoring without blind spot.
Dr. Li swiped his fingerprint, entered a code, and exited.
Beyond lay a medical research institute.
White-coated researchers bustled about, exchanging data. At the center, a giant screen displayed the cube’s interior:
A boy sat strapped to a chair by black restraints, staring vacantly while medical leads trailed from his body; golden light flickered endlessly around him.
Before the screen stood a middle-aged man in a dark-red cloak. Seeing Dr. Li, he turned.
“Commander Ye.” Dr. Li was surprised. “You came in person?”
Ye Fan nodded. “How is he?”
“The same.” Dr. Li sighed. “A full year since the Cangnan incident. We’ve tried every modern therapy—nothing can wake him from the world he’s built.
The Mortal Divine Realm cocoons the reality he constructed; unless he wakes himself, nothing external can reach him.”
Ye Fan gazed at the boy on the screen and exhaled. “A year already…”
“He’s given us no end of worry,” Dr. Li said wryly.
“Have you tried using your Forbidden Ruins to force him awake?”
“I did. All it caused was a rampage in the Mortal Divine Realm—no effect. It’s as if… his consciousness simply isn’t inside his body.”
“Not inside?” Ye Fan frowned. “Then where else could it be?”
“That’s the problem—I don’t know.” Dr. Li spread his hands. “If it were inside, revival would be simple. But his mental landscape isn’t normal:
There’s nothing but endless fog.”