The two dashed downstairs together.
A monster tried to block their way, but it was sent tumbling over by Song Yunqiao, who rolled down like a spinning top. Before the monsters could react, Song Nanxing and Jing Shao quickly broke out of Building Six.
Outside the residential complex, it was pitch dark without streetlights. Unsure if the area was dangerous at night, Song Nanxing took Jing Rao to hide in the children’s playground on the ground floor of Building Four.
Jing Rao moved with practiced ease, disappearing into the shadows. Although she had lost all memories of Happiness Garden, the shock of this night didn’t seem as overwhelming as expected. She caught her breath, her beautiful fox-like eyes turning sharp as she faced Song Nanxing. “Can you tell me now? Who exactly are you?”
Song Nanxing looked at the grotesque wounds on her face and said, “I’m your neighbor.”
At the word neighbor, Jing Rao’s expression subtly shifted. Song Nanxing continued, “You live in Happiness Garden 601. I live downstairs in 401.”
“Happiness Garden?” Jing Rao’s face blanked, as if trying hard to recall. But in her past memories, there was no trace of this community.
At that moment, a shrill whistle sounded within the complex.
They immediately fell silent and saw three vehicles honking as they stopped at the entrance of Building Six. The white vans with red lettering belonged to the Mental Health Center.
Jing Rao’s expression darkened.
The car doors opened, and a bulky staff member stepped out. The huge detector around his neck emitted red beams, scanning the area: “Who reported the case?”
Song Yunqiao hurried forward, bending his back with excitement: “Comrade, it was me.”
The detector scanned him up and down before the official responded, “What happened? Please explain the situation in detail.”
Song Yunqiao said, “My wife’s mental contamination worsened. She had a delusional episode, stabbed me, then ran away. She’s armed, and I’m worried she might harm other residents. That’s why I reported it.”
Though his tone was worried, his face showed excitement. “I’m sorry to trouble you with overtime at this hour. Please help me find my wife. She’s seriously ill, and I’m really worried about her being alone outside.”
Another staff member, with four twisted arms like gnarled tree branches, recorded his statement: “Show your IDs.”
Song Yunqiao quickly handed over two ID cards. “These are mine and my wife’s.”
After registering, the official put away the notebook. “Wait here. We’ll find her as soon as possible.”
With that, his four arms raised high, palms open, revealing eyeballs in the center that scanned the area in all directions.
The other staff dispersed, heading off in different directions to search.
Song Nanxing’s expression grew serious, his tone heavy: “These monsters look harder to deal with than the residents. We can’t stay here any longer.”
This complex was too small; the monsters would find them quickly.
Jing Rao licked her lips and asked, “Go out?”
Song Nanxing nodded immediately: “Let’s go.”
They used the darkness and building shadows to carefully avoid the searching monsters, heading toward the community gate.
The good news was no monsters guarded the gate.
The bad news was the gate was locked, with barbed thorny vines wrapped around the fence — completely different from daytime.
Jing Rao frowned, asking Song Nanxing’s opinion: “Break out forcibly?”
Just as Song Nanxing was about to reply, a red beam suddenly shone on him, followed by a sharp alarm.
The staff member wearing the scanner quickly locked onto him like radar, smiling and saying, “Found them. The patient’s here.”
The other monsters received the signal and immediately charged over.
Sensing the danger, Jing Rao clenched her teeth and prepared to climb over the gate. Although the thorns would hurt, it was better than being caught by the monsters.
“Wait, try this.” Song Nanxing stopped her, pulling a key from his pocket.
It was a key given to him by the community security.
He glanced back at the rapidly approaching horde of monsters behind them, then took a desperate chance and inserted the key into the lock.
To their surprise, the heavy lock clicked open.
Jing Rao’s expression brightened. She pushed open the gate, pulled Song Nanxing out, then slammed the door shut, flipping off the chasing monsters.
The provoked monsters howled and began battering the gate.
Farther away, the bulky security guard was dragged along by the Mental Health Center staff.
Song Nanxing looked around at the thick, pitch-black fog and realized the situation was troublesome. Night, dense fog, monsters chasing—they were severely debuffed.
But he had already explored the entire Cuihu Garden complex; apart from various monsters, there was nothing else.
To find a way out, they had no choice but to risk venturing deeper into the fog.
“You pick a direction.” Song Nanxing finally said, looking at Jing Shao.
Jing Rao scanned the surroundings and led left: “This way.”
Once outside the complex, her expression grew livelier, as if breaking free from some restraint.
They carefully groped through the fog, not far before faint lights appeared.
As they got closer, Song Nanxing saw the lights came from a sign atop a building: “Qingcheng Mental Health Center.”
Qingcheng?
Song Nanxing had instinctively assumed Cuihu Garden was a neighborhood in Tongcheng, but apparently not.
He asked Jing Rao, “Are you from Qingcheng?”
She answered, “Yes,” her expression somewhat resistant. “Going round and round, we ended up back at the nest.”
The fog was thick like a sea, with only the faint glow of the Qingcheng Mental Health Center sign visible.
With nowhere else to go, they cautiously approached.
The health center’s door was wide open with lights on, but no people were visible.
Having gained experience, Song Nanxing stayed alert.
He warned Jing Shao and stealthily approached the building’s side.
As they crept along, a whistle sounded in the distance.
A white van with red lettering drove out of the fog and stopped.
Song Yunqiao and three staff stepped out.
Hidden in the shadows, Song Nanxing and Jing Shao’s expressions tightened, almost thinking their hiding spot was compromised.
But then a staff member circled behind and opened the van’s rear door, lifting down a woman tied to a stretcher with restraints.
The woman wore pajamas and had a slender figure.
Her long black hair was tangled and stuck to her face from struggling.
A muzzle gag was stuffed in her mouth, silencing her as she stared wide-eyed, shaking her head, making muffled sounds.
Song Yunqiao walked up, gently stroking her cheek with a soft voice and a triumphant grin: “Don’t be afraid, wife. The doctors will cure you. Be a good girl and listen to them. Don’t hurt yourself.”
He then extended a tube-shaped tongue from the woman’s opening mouth, sweeping it across her face.
The woman closed her eyes, emitting pained, fearful muffled groans.
Jing Rao shuddered, staring shocked at the other self lying on the stretcher.
Song Nanxing’s face also darkened, unsure what was happening.
Even the stuffed rabbit in his arms widened its red eyes, glancing between the two.
Song Yunqiao and the staff then lifted the stretcher and carried it into the health center.
Song Nanxing looked at the silent Jing Rao: “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
She shook her head: “No.” After a moment, she added, “I think we have to see her.”
Song Nanxing nodded.
The situation was too strange.
Jing Shao was clearly the protagonist of this story; they had to try to find a breakthrough from her.
“There’s a side door. Let’s see if we can sneak in from there.” Song Nanxing observed the side entrance and told Jing Rao.
Jing Rao didn’t reply.
Instead, a sinister voice spoke up: “If you’re going to the health center, why not use the front door?”
Song Nanxing turned around, pupils shrinking.
A tall, slender figure stood behind him and Jing Rao, wrapped in bandages, with two massive syringes in its hands.
The syringe needles glinted coldly, hovering above their heads.
Song Nanxing ducked low to avoid the needles.
The stuffed rabbit in his arms bared its fangs and stretched its long ears, entangling one of the syringes.
Jing Rao was slower to react.
The syringe had already grazed her skin, almost piercing it.
The intense threat sparked her survival instincts.
Her hands suddenly transformed into two huge surgical knives, slicing off the monster’s arms cleanly.
The monster’s sneak attack failed and was now under attack, about to sound the alarm.
But Song Nanxing acted quickly, picking up the severed syringe and jabbing it into the creature’s body, pushing the plunger to the bottom.
The dark red, murky liquid inside was injected fully.
The monster opened its mouth in agony but could make no sound.
The exposed, twisted flesh under the bandages convulsed in pain, then twitched and dissolved into a pool of dark red pus.
Jing Rao stood stunned, staring at her giant surgical knife hands.
After a moment, she asked Song Nanxing, “Have I always had this ability?” She furrowed her brows. “I feel like I’ve forgotten something important.”
Song Nanxing didn’t know either.
He had only seen this ability once in the memories the stuffed rabbit showed him, so he honestly said, “We don’t intersect much. I’ve only seen you use it once.”
Jing Rao didn’t seem too troubled by this.
Her hands returned to normal as she led the way to the side door of the health center. “I have a feeling that finding the other me might hold some answers.”
The two carefully slipped inside through the side door of the health center.
Halfway, they encountered two more monsters wielding syringes.
After working together to take them down, they stripped the monsters of their staff uniforms and boldly put them on.
To avoid recognition, they wrapped bandages around their faces, exposing only their eyes, nose, and mouth, and swaggered in as fake employees.
They quickly found Jing Shao’s ward.
She was diagnosed with severe contamination and aggressive tendencies, kept isolated in a quarantine room.
When they arrived, she was strapped to the bed with restraints, needles in her arms, and an IV drip running.
Song Yunqiao stood beside her, putting on a tearful act of devoted husband.
Perhaps due to the medication, Jing Shao’s expression was dull and slow, but she still struggled to protest and explain, “I don’t know him. He’s a monster. Please help me call the police…”
The staff stood by indifferently.