Chapter 21

As the saying goes, even if you haven't eaten pork, you've seen pigs run.

Zhu Wanqi's mother was currently in a state that most people had seen many times in various films and TV shows—possessed by a ghost or cursed. Zhu Wanqi was immediately frightened, her face turning pale, and she tightly gripped Zhao Zhu's shoulders. At this moment, it seemed that only Zhao Zhu, her newly acquired boyfriend, could give her some sense of security and support.

However, what she didn't know was that Zhao Zhu was actually thinking about leaving as soon as possible. He didn't want to get involved in such matters. He had only asked Zhu Wanqi out to satisfy his own physical needs, not to get entangled in such supernatural events, especially those involving the jade hairpin. The expert in ghost control, Li Fan from the group, had died in the hospital, and how much could Zhao Zhu, with his limited abilities, do to face such things?

Nevertheless, Zhao Zhu's ability to adapt was very quick. He directly told Zhu Wanqi:

"Your mother is sleepwalking and may have been mentally affected and stimulated. She shouldn't be startled awake, or it could cause serious problems. Let's go outside and call 120 to get professional help."

Although Zhu Wanqi was a nurse, Zhao Zhu was a highly skilled doctor. When Zhao Zhu spoke, she, who was already at a loss, could only nod. The two of them quietly retreated, planning to leave the room and discuss what to do next.

However, at this moment, Zhu Wanqi's mother suddenly turned around with a swift step, her hand forming a delicate gesture, and pointed in the direction of Zhao Zhu and Zhu Wanqi, singing in a dramatic style:

"Hey, where are you running!"

As soon as the words were spoken, Zhao Zhu felt a chill run through his bones, as if he had suddenly fallen into an ice cellar. Zhu Wanqi, on the other hand, was even worse, collapsing to the ground in fear. This was not just a physical presence but also a psychological pressure. Zhao Zhu, as a psychiatrist, had stronger mental defenses than the average person and had encountered such things more recently, giving him some resistance. He managed to stand, but if it had been anyone else, they would have reacted the same way as Zhu Wanqi.

Zhu Wanqi's mother slowly approached, as if she were on a stage, a famous performer showing off her skills to her audience. However, her obviously plump figure was quite out of place with her posture and expression.

Zhao Zhu took a deep breath, ignoring the collapsed Zhu Wanqi, and forced himself to take a step forward, rushing out of the room and running to the flower garden outside the house. He then ran out of the gate and immediately called 110.

The call was quickly connected, but when Zhao Zhu put the phone to his ear, he didn't hear the voice of the operator. Instead, a high-pitched voice came from the other end:

"Sir, where are you going!"

Zhao Zhu's face darkened. Looking back at Zhu Wanqi's house, he saw her mother standing by the window, her eyes cold and fixed on him.

On her head, she still wore the green jade hairpin, the green light from which made Zhao Zhu's vision blur. He struggled to stay on his feet for a while but eventually, unable to bear it, he slowly bent his knees and fell to the ground outside the gate.

...

"Sir, wake up, wake up, wake up."

Zhao Zhu was shaken awake and found himself in a dimly lit room, illuminated only by a few candles. His visibility was low, and he realized he was lying on a high wooden bed, with light pink pearl curtains hanging around it. He was wearing very little clothing, and a beautiful woman was sitting on his lap, her hands constantly exploring his chest and cooing.

"Where is this...?"

Zhao Zhu couldn't help but ask.

"Hmph, Sir, you're hurting my heart. I turned down all my engagements today for you. Just because I was a bit late, you fell asleep and forgot where you were. Do I really mean so little to you that I'm no different from the women you usually visit in the red-light district?"

She complained, but her hands didn't stop, her fingers continuously kneading and caressing Zhao Zhu's chest, while her smooth abdomen pressed firmly against his lower body. She had a faint, alluring scent that could easily arouse desire.

But Zhao Zhu had no interest in such things at this moment.

Indeed, his initial purpose in finding Zhu Wanqi was for this, but now the situation had spiraled out of control, heading in an unpredictable direction. If Zhao Zhu still had any interest in making love at this moment, it wouldn't just be described as calm; it would be more accurate to say his brain had been kicked by a donkey.

"Move aside, tell me, where is this?"

Zhao Zhu pushed the woman off and asked.

"Sir, what's wrong with you today? This is Cui Xiang Lou, and I'm Hai Tang." The woman answered with a tone of grievance.

"Cui Xiang Lou?" Zhao Zhu felt a mix of amusement and frustration. He stumbled out of bed, feeling his legs weak, but he still made his way to the door and opened it.

This was a large circular building, about five stories high, with many rooms on each floor. Many women in makeup and powder were moving about, and many patrons were enjoying themselves. Downstairs, there were dozens of tables with guests eating and chatting, each with a courtesan in their lap. Everyone was dressed in ancient attire, and the total number of patrons, courtesans, waiters, and madams was no less than five hundred. Even if it were a movie set, it would be impossible to create such a grand scene.

"Damn it, did I enter a horror mission world prematurely?"

Zhao Zhu cursed, instinctively reaching for his phone, but he realized he was only wearing a purple pair of shorts and a robe, with no pockets. At the same time, Zhao Zhu suddenly realized something and rushed back into the room, picking up a candle and placing it on the dressing table. He then looked at himself in the bronze mirror.

It was a very handsome face, even with a hint of evil. Zhao Zhu himself was handsome, but the face in the mirror was not his!

"Sir, what's wrong with you?" Hai Tang walked up to Zhao Zhu but didn't dare to get too close, clearly sensing that something was different about this familiar patron.

Zhao Zhu frowned. He could now confirm two things: first, he was not in a mission world, and second, he was in someone else's memory and had been placed into this role, or rather, forced into it.

This technique had been recorded in psychological therapy, but there were very few experts in the world who could achieve this. Moreover, from Zhao Zhu's perspective, whether it was the intricate patterns on the dressing table or the vivid and realistic people in Cui Xiang Lou, everything was so lifelike!

The complexity and level of this constructed consciousness were something Zhao Zhu was certain no hypnotist in the real world could achieve. Just as a higher resolution image takes up more space, such a detailed and grand scene would be impossible for an ordinary person's mind to create, even with the help of a computer.

At this moment, Zhao Zhu had an impulse to set the building on fire and burn away all these chaotic memories. However, he knew that if he did so, he would also be buried with them. If he was lucky, he wouldn't die, but his body would become a vegetative state. If he was unlucky, he might die outright.

At this moment, a commotion came from downstairs, accompanied by the sound of drums and gongs.

"What's happening?"

"The courtesan is about to perform. Sir, would you like to watch?" Hai Tang asked, a hint of jealousy in her voice, clearly indicating that the courtesan was the most sought-after and envied among the courtesans.