Chapter 1: Reset

Luo City, Autumn.

In the hollow office, under the pale fluorescent light, the middle-aged doctor pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Hello, Chen Ji. I need to ask you some questions. After you answer, I will evaluate your responses and score them as 'None,' 'Very Light,' 'Moderate,' 'Severe,' or 'Very Severe.' Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to end your life?"

"… Whose life?"

"Your own."

"No, I don't."

The middle-aged doctor hesitated for a moment: "Do you hold grudges, and find it hard to forgive those who have hurt you?"

"I don't hold grudges."

"Do you often forget things? What do you remember about when you were twelve?"

Across from the doctor, Chen Ji, an eighteen-year-old, let his gaze drift to the darkness outside the window: "Twelve? That summer, my desk mate Ma Kai secretly took one of my erasers. I liked that eraser because it had a picture of Uchiha Itachi on it."

The doctor's gaze returned to the previous question about holding grudges, crossed out "1 point, None," and rewrote "5 points, Very Severe."

He carefully observed the young man in front of him. Chen Ji, at eighteen, had a rather handsome face. Due to his long absence from the outside world, his skin was clean, and his eyes were clear and sincere.

"The next question: Can you tolerate loneliness?"

This time, Chen Ji paused to think seriously about the question. After a long while, he answered: "Yes."

…

…

The questioning continued for half an hour. When the quartz clock on the wall pointed to ten o'clock at night, the doctor said: "The last question: Do you feel that someone wants to harm you?"

Chen Ji: "No, my family treats me well."

The doctor's eyelids twitched slightly. He quickly recorded on his notebook: 168 points for positive symptoms, 67 positive items, a factor score of 3.8. The patient, after the death of his parents in a car accident, developed severe 'Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder' with a tendency towards violence.

"Chen Ji, the diagnosis shows that you have severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. You need to stay for observation, and a nurse will take you to the sixth-floor ward. Your phone needs to be handed over to me. External information can interfere with your treatment and affect the results."

"Okay," Chen Ji seemed unsurprised.

"Please wait here for a moment. I need to inform your family of the results," the doctor said, standing up with the diagnosis report in hand.

"Wait!" Chen Ji called out.

"What is it?" the doctor turned to ask.

"I haven't given you my phone yet," Chen Ji took a phone out of his pocket and handed it to the doctor.

"The phone is just temporarily in my custody," the doctor put the phone in his pocket, turned, and left, making sure to close the door tightly behind him.

In the spacious, dimly lit corridor outside, only a middle-aged couple stood, their expressions anxious.

The man approached: "Old Liu, did it go smoothly? Did he… notice anything?"

"No, he still thinks you're treating him well," Doctor Liu nodded: "Here is the diagnosis report. You can now apply to the court to have him declared 'incompetent.'"

The middle-aged woman smiled awkwardly: "Thanks, Old Liu. I'll treat you to a meal later."

Doctor Liu forced a smile: "No need for a meal. I don't know why you want to declare him mentally ill, and I don't want to ask. But when the court reviews the case, I can also overturn my diagnosis."

Chen Ji's uncle, Chen Shuo, quickly took out a bulging file from his black leather bag: "Count it."

Doctor Liu opened the file and glanced at it: "Alright, you can go now. I'll arrange for his hospitalization. He doesn't seem to resist, but to be safe, I'll call two male nurses over."

"Alright, I'll go," Chen Shuo led his wife, Wang Huiling, towards the elevator.

In the dim corridor, Wang Huiling whispered to her husband: "How much did you give him?"

"Five thousand."

"Five thousand? He just asked a few questions, why should he get so much?" The plump Wang Huiling widened her eyes.

Chen Shuo, impatient: "Do you really think a meal is enough? Five thousand is nothing compared to Chen Ji's house! Apply to the court tomorrow, and once he's declared incompetent, transfer the house to our names to avoid any delays."

Wang Huiling whispered: "Is Old Liu reliable? We can't let Chen Ji escape from the hospital."

"Don't worry, I heard that the sixth floor of Green Mountain Hospital is like a prison. No one can escape. Let's not discuss this here; it feels creepy."

As they walked out of Green Mountain Mental Hospital, Chen Shuo instinctively looked back.

In the night, the twisted, dense ivy on the building's walls almost obscured the windows. As his gaze swept over, he saw shadows moving in the gaps between the ivy, as if many 'people' were watching him.

…

…

Chen Ji was flanked by two male nurses, walking down the dark corridor on the sixth floor, with only the safety exit sign providing a faint light.

There was no nurse station on this floor, and at the end of the corridor was a steel door that required a password to open. One nurse covered Chen Ji's eyes, while the other entered the password.

Click, the door opened.

Inside was a spacious hall, with a single bed placed every 1.5 meters. In the dim light, the single beds looked like coffins, and there were at least a hundred of them.

In the next moment, black figures sat up on the beds, turning their heads to silently stare at Chen Ji.

The male nurse whispered: "Ignore them, let's finish quickly and get out."

The two nurses laid Chen Ji down on a bed and secured his hands and feet with restraints.

"Wait!" Chen Ji said.

"What is it?" the nurse was impatient.

Chen Ji: "Don't I need to change into a hospital gown?"

"… Are you sick?" the nurse muttered, turning to his colleague: "Let's go quickly."

The steel door slammed shut, and the room fell silent again.

Chen Ji turned his head to look around. The windows of the ward were welded with stainless steel bars.

Sssss.

The sound of clothing and bedding rubbing together echoed in the ward, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Chen Ji heard the sounds approaching him, growing louder and closer.

"It's not…" Chen Ji opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling: "Just me, right? That's a bit rude."

In the faint moonlight from outside, he saw five or six heads poking out like turtles, filling his field of vision. Each face was dark, with a strange smile.

Chen Ji: "This is really scary, it's almost cured my mental illness…"

Someone whispered: "Do you think he usually goes to the bathroom before or after meals?"

"I'll call the United Nations to find out," the middle-aged man said, pulling out a calculator and quickly pressing a series of numbers. The clear female voice counting in the ward was particularly jarring.

Before he finished, an old man grabbed the calculator.

"Reset."

All the sounds disappeared, and the patients made way for the old man.

The old man came to the bed, bent down, and looked at Chen Ji: "You really came."

Chen Ji: "What do you mean?"

The old man took out a piece of paper: "Someone once said you would come here today."

On the paper, his face was drawn in pencil, vividly and lifelike.

Chen Ji was impressed: "Very reasonable."

…

…

People who enter mental hospitals are either too stupid or too smart.

They just struggle with themselves in their own obsessive worlds, endlessly, without escape.

Chen Ji had some respect for mental hospitals.

So when he saw the sketch, he felt the world become mysterious: "My head itches, it feels like I'm growing a brain! Old man, did you draw this?"

"It's not me, but I can take you to meet the person who drew it," the old man untied Chen Ji's restraints, and all the patients made way for them.

At the end of the corridor, a young man sat on the bed, staring blankly out the window.

"What's his condition?" Chen Ji asked.

"He has severe delusional disorder. He always says he lives in another world, and this world is his dream. Later, he developed dissociative symptoms and became completely dazed," the old man answered.

"When did he come in?"

"A year ago. He said you would appear today, proving he wasn't lying."

Chen Ji looked at the old man in surprise: "What's your condition? Your thinking is particularly clear."

"I'm not sick," the old man said.

"You sound like a mental patient…"

The old man, annoyed: "I'm really not sick. I came in to hide from some trouble. Don't believe me? Ask me with the Paranoid Thinking Scale."

Chen Ji: "Do you like your father or your mother?"

Old man: "I like my mother."

Chen Ji: "…"

He approached the delusional young man: "Hello?"

But the young man just stared blankly out the window, not speaking.

The old man: "He hasn't spoken in half a year."

"What's his name?"

"Li Qingniao."

Chen Ji was a bit disappointed. He carefully observed the dazed Li Qingniao and asked quietly: "Old man, has he ever mentioned what the world he lives in is like?"

"No," the old man shook his head.

Chen Ji asked again: "Old man, has he received any treatment since he came in? Is there any way to restore his consciousness?"

"What treatment? People on the sixth floor have given up on treatment. Just living is enough."

"Ah? No more attempts to save him? What if he gets better?"

"Some have gotten better," the old man stroked his chin.

"How did they get better?"

"There was a severely depressed little girl who lost over thirty pounds in a month after she came in. Later, her father won over twenty million in the lottery and took her out of the hospital, and she got better."

Ah?

Chen Ji slowly turned to look at Li Qingniao: "I'll give you twenty million."

The Li Qingniao, who had been silent for half a year, suddenly said: "You will also go to that world."

Ah?

The old man's eyes widened.

Chen Ji quickly asked: "How do I go to that world?"

Li Qingniao didn't speak again.

Chen Ji: "I'll give you another twenty million!"

Li Qingniao: "The people of Beijulu will handle the smuggling."

Chen Ji: "I'll give you another twenty million… What is that world like?"

Li Qingniao paused for two seconds: "You only have a total of forty million in your account."

Chen Ji: "???"

Brother, are you faking it?

He reached out to pinch Li Qingniao's cheeks, but no matter what he did, Li Qingniao didn't speak again.

The old man, hunched over, asked: "Young man, why did you come in?"

Chen Ji replied: "My parents passed away, and I've been a bit isolated this past half year, so my uncle and aunt sent me here."

The old man narrowed his eyes: "Young man, how much did your parents leave you?"

Chen Ji: "A villa worth over twenty million, and a few million in savings."

The old man thought for a moment: "You need to be careful with your uncle and aunt. If they apply to the court to have you declared 'incompetent,' you won't be able to keep your assets."

Chen Ji's expression was lost in the darkness of the ward: "Why would they do that? They are my family."

The wind outside picked up, blowing the ivy back and forth. The shadows of the leaves, illuminated by the moonlight, flickered and danced like black flames on the ground.

(End of Chapter)