After sending the big guy off, she didn't even have time to laugh at herself before the tears started falling.
Recalling everything from the dream, she was sometimes herself, sometimes an observer. The scenes felt both real and illusory, pulling her in so deeply that she couldn't break free.
Especially now—in the quiet apartment, the dreamcatcher above her head swayed gently without any wind.
Hearing the neighbor next door shuffling in slippers again, she gathered her courage and pulled open the door.
"Um, have you heard the rumors about this place being haunted?"
"Haunted?"
The woman seemed to perk up, munching sunflower seeds while leaning in the doorway to peer inside: "There was a rumor like that going around."
"But actually, all the neighbors in the building know—it's just that the landlord's late mother had her body laid out here for a while... Some heartless person turned it into a haunted house story. Ugh, how unlucky."
She shook her head, then added proudly: "But it's been good for us tenants. My rent went down 500 just like that. What about yours?"
Lian Xia couldn't exactly say she'd been scammed by a bait-and-switch contract, so she just mumbled and deflected.
The tiny spark of hope that had just ignited inside her was snuffed out with a poof.
Gu Xichen was fake. Chen Xi was fake. Even the haunted house was fake.
The only things that were real were the toxic mushrooms and the instant noodles.
Could the world be any more cruel to a working-class drone?
No ghosts for the living, and even the dead won't spare you one.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She picked up her phone without hesitation.
The rental agency, colluding with the landlord to manufacture a viral story, had indeed gotten massive traffic. But a lie was still a lie, fraud was still fraud. She didn't mind being the first one to report it to the police.
But then... what was she supposed to do next?
There was nothing else for it.
Living in Chang'an was never easy—better to go back home and study for the exams.
Chapter 40
"You're awake."
In her hazy vision, the cold face of a young man appeared.
"How are you feeling?"
"You are..."
"I'm your attending physician. My surname is Xie."
His gaze dropped to the nameplate on the man's chest.
Chief of Surgery—Xie Yun.
The young chief spoke with absolute certainty as he delivered chilling news: "You're lucky. If rescue had arrived ten minutes later, you likely would have been paralyzed below the lumbar spine."
The front of the car had been crushed, yet he'd been fortunate enough to only fracture one rib. The broken bone had narrowly missed his lung, and aside from some soft tissue bruises, it was a stroke of luck amid disaster.
"Still, for such a minor injury, you've been unconscious for nearly half a month."
A fractured rib was just a minor injury?
The doctor observed his awkward expression through thin lenses: "All the gossip from outside has blown into the hospital during your stay... so should I call you Chairman Gu, or...?"
The man gave a light cough, his voice rough from not drinking water: "Just call me Gu Xichen. Or Xichen."
"Don't bother—you're famous. No need to be so familiar."
Gu Xichen: ...
The doctor didn't even glance at his shattered expression, continuing to write his clinical notes before tucking the pen back into his breast pocket: "By the way, since you're a public figure, could you tell the media to stop barging into the ward?"
"We've already gone through three security guards."
"...I'm sorry."
Seeing his contrition, Xie Yun's cold tone thawed slightly: "No need for apologies. This afternoon, I'll arrange for your rehabilitation to begin."
With that, the white-coated figure headed for the door, but Gu Xichen called after him: "Dr. Xie, could you refer me to a psychologist?"
Xie Yun: "?"
His injuries hadn't fully healed, and speaking loudly still caused pain in his chest: "I suspect I have delirium."
Even now, inexplicable scenes still flickered before his eyes from time to time.
The cramped rental, the crying girl, the swaying wind chimes and the curling incense smoke—each time he closed his eyes, it was all vivid, just rapidly flickering by like an old silent film.
Xie Yun was a responsible doctor who took post-surgical care seriously. He immediately instructed his assistant to book an appointment with a psychological specialist.
The specialist was efficient—an hour later, she appeared in the ward carrying her bag and a thermos.
After carefully listening to Gu Xichen's account, the middle-aged woman adjusted her glasses: "What we call delirium, or acute confusional state, is a result of mental disorientation. It causes impaired comprehension and confusion, with core symptoms including poor concentration, memory loss, disorientation, misinterpretation, and hallucinations."
"But yours doesn't quite fit that pattern."
"But I've been having hallucinations..."
"Rather than hallucinations, I'd say this was an extremely vivid dream—one that's had a real impact on your reality and mental state."
"A dream?"
The vivid scenes and rich details—could they really just be a dream?
The woman pinpointed the crux sharply: "When we're in despair, most of us want to escape into dreams. The darker the reality, the more vivid the dream."
That statement hit the nail on the head. He had no retort.
His business had failed from a bet-driven IPO, he'd gone bankrupt, and then been in a car crash. The media swarmed like leeches smelling blood. That year he'd fallen from the clouds to the depths—he knew better than anyone what despair felt like.
Seeing his silence, the psychologist suddenly threw out another question.
"Have you ever considered that perhaps our dreams are the real world?"
The thought was chilling. Gu Xichen couldn't help but shudder.
Seeing his troubled expression, the woman suddenly withdrew her smile: "Just a joke—don't take it seriously."
"Dreams are a realm that psychology and science haven't yet conquered. You have real feelings in dreams, you can see and hear, feel joy and sorrow—it's no different from reality. You could even say that dreams are an extension of reality, a continuation of our regrets."
"There are many theories about dreams. Some believe they're glimpses of parallel worlds. If your real-life wounds can be healed in dreams, there's no need to be too anxious—this too is a form of self-preservation."
With that, she handed him a business card.
Gu Xichen took it and saw the name "Yun Lu" printed on it.
Yun—a very unusual surname.
After Yun Lu left, Xie Yun knocked on the door but didn't come in: "How did it go?"
"Nothing much. She said it was just a deeper-than-usual dream."
"A dream? What did you dream about?"
Gu Xichen paused: "I dreamed I became a ghost..."
Before he could finish, Dr. Xie cut him off: "What are you talking about, ghosts and spirits? As if you don't have enough scandals already?"
"..."
He truly didn't care what the media said—things couldn't get much worse anyway.
After a pause, he added: "Besides that, there was also a woman in my dream."
"A woman? Which woman?"
He stared blankly for a long time before murmuring: "No... I can't remember her face anymore."