Chapter 1

Cheng Yao hung the cleaned cloth on the hook and took one last look at the old house, which seemed dusty no matter how much it was cleaned.

The light in his eyes dimmed as the fluorescent light in the room was turned off.

The building was somewhat noisy, and it was not quiet outside either. From time to time, the sounds of parents scolding their children, couples arguing, and people laughing loudly could be heard. Each household seemed to be competing in volume, not only raising their own voices but also turning up the volume of their TVs to the maximum.

These sounds became a buzzing noise in Cheng Yao's ears.

A crowd had gathered at the community fitness square. One of them raised his hand and called out loudly, "Xiao Cheng, you're back!"

Cheng Yao's eyes moved, and he nodded at the old man with white hair and a wrinkled face.

"Is everything settled with your father?"

Cheng Yao nodded again.

"Oh, oh."

The old man wanted to ask more, but Cheng Yao had already walked a distance after nodding twice. He had no choice but to turn to the others and start discussing.

"Has Old Bai's funeral been completed?"

"Yes, he was buried at Xianhe Cemetery this morning."

"Old Bai had a good life, living to ninety. His daughter passed away early, but this son-in-law has been busy all along, even taking care of the funeral arrangements."

"Has the son-in-law remarried?"

"No. Old Bai and his wife tried to introduce him to someone for a long time and even asked me if I knew anyone suitable. It's been over thirty years, and he's retired now, but he hasn't found anyone. Now Old Bai is gone..."

"Did his parents pass away a few years ago?"

"Yes, he's all alone now... I wonder if he has any relatives or friends..."

Outside the community, there was a shaded path lined with trees.

The tree shadows blocked the sky, and during the day, specks of sunlight could be seen on the ground. At night, only the dim yellow streetlights could be seen through the tree shadows.

Cheng Yao slowly walked through the tree shadows and arrived at a crossroads.

He looked at the red traffic light ahead, his gaze unfocused, and caught a glimpse of a light out of the corner of his eye.

The shops on the opposite street were all closed, except for one that was still lit. The light from the glass door was somewhat dim, but the signboard stood out from the tree shadows, red and glaring.

"Saint... Don't... Clinic?" Cheng Yao subconsciously read the neon sign in his mind, then heard the "buzzing" sound of electricity.

The sign flickered, and a new bright spot appeared in the darkness— "Monster Clinic."

What a strange name.

As Cheng Yao thought this, a young man's smiling face appeared in his mind.

It was the young man who ran the pet shop at the west gate of the community, always full of enthusiasm and warmth when he met anyone.

"... Just a ten-minute walk from here, next to the real estate agency, there's a place called 'Monster Clinic.' Don't let the name fool you. The doctor... The doctor, though a bit eccentric, is very skilled. He can cure any illness! His medical skills are outstanding! Uncle Cheng, you should definitely go see him!"

The red light turned green, and the neon sign of the Monster Clinic flickered twice, continuing to emit a faint red light.

Cheng Yao stepped across the road and walked towards the Monster Clinic.

The glass door of the clinic reflected his face.

It was the face of a middle-aged man, with wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes, drooping bags under his eyes, and deep nasolabial folds, giving the impression of someone who often had a stern expression and rarely smiled.

The glass door was pushed open.

Cheng Yao stepped onto the white tiles of the clinic.

These white tiles, like his grayish-white hair, were not purely white.

The fluorescent lights in the clinic were somewhat dim, and the light bulbs were old. The walls, gray like the tiles, were covered with old health promotion posters. The six large characters in artistic font, "Wash hands and maintain hygiene," made Cheng Yao feel as if he had stepped into a time tunnel, returning to the small clinics hidden at street corners decades ago.

Tap, tap...

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, and a figure in a white coat appeared in the front hall of the clinic.

Even late at night, the doctor was neatly dressed, wearing a white medical cap and a white mask. Under the white coat, he wore a white shirt and pants. These whites, like the clinic, were not pure. Brownish bloodstains were scattered on the doctor's chest, and splattered bloodstains were on the front of his coat and pants.

The doctor's hands were in his pockets, and he quietly looked at Cheng Yao.

Cheng Yao felt that the doctor's eyes emitted a strange blue glow.

However, he did not pay much attention to this.

"Someone recommended me to come here. Can you treat any illness? Any illness at all?" Cheng Yao asked straightforwardly, without hesitation or hope in his tone.

"Come in." The doctor spoke but did not answer Cheng Yao's question.

His voice had a strange echo, circling out and then bouncing back.

Cheng Yao followed the doctor's steps without hesitation, turning into the corridor.

The corridor was short, and the end was in sight, with a door on each side.

Cheng Yao followed the doctor into the door on the left, which had a sign that read "Consultation Room."

The door was open, and inside there was only a desk, two chairs, a power strip on the floor with tangled wires, an old CRT monitor on the desk, a file holder, and a pen holder.

There was only one file in the file holder. The doctor took the file, opened it, pulled out a form, and handed the only pen in the pen holder to Cheng Yao, "Fill out the basic information."

Cheng Yao's gaze fell on the doctor's hand.

The doctor's hand, with long fingers, had nails that were not the healthy red or unhealthy gray but were painted with designs. The designs were different faces, abstract and making exaggerated expressions, giving them an artistic quality.

Cheng Yao took the pen and filled out the form seriously, asking, "Can you treat any illness?"

The doctor asked, "Where do you feel unwell?"

This conversation sounded like a routine doctor-patient consultation.

Cheng Yao immediately gave an unusual answer: "Heart disease."

As he spoke, he finished writing the last word and handed the form to the doctor, saying seriously, "I want to die. I hope you can kill me and let me see my own death. I want it to be extremely painful and the process to be extremely long."

If the form did not show Cheng Yao's age as "60" and if he did not speak so calmly, his words would have sounded like a declaration from a middle school student.

The doctor did not respond. He casually looked at the personal information Cheng Yao had filled out, raised his hand, and quickly wrote in the "Patient's Complaint" section of the form.

The pen tip scratched against the paper, making a rhythmic sound.

Cheng Yao could not understand what the doctor was writing, only hearing the "scratching" sound. Gradually, he heard laughter, cries, screams, and sobs. The cries rose and fell, and the laughter was a mix of deep and light laughs, chaotic yet clear, like different instruments harmonizing with the doctor's pen strokes, creating a rhythmic melody.

Cheng Yao felt a bit dazed, trying to focus his vision. He saw the faces on the doctor's nails twisting and changing, the static images becoming animated, dancing on the doctor's nails.

Snap.

The doctor finally stopped writing, the pen tip tapping on the paper, leaving a dot like a period.

Cheng Yao's heart raced.

The doctor turned to look at Cheng Yao, his blue eyes seeming to flicker.

He said, "Of course."

As soon as these words were spoken, all other sounds disappeared.

Cheng Yao's dull eyes brightened and then dimmed again, "Can it be done now?"

"Of course." The doctor gave a definite answer again.

He left the file on the desk, stood up, and gestured for Cheng Yao to follow him.

They left the consultation room and went to the opposite room.

Cheng Yao noticed that a new sign had been added to the door, reading "Operating Room."

The so-called operating room was as simple as the clinic, with old bloodstains on the walls, a blue medical screen with several holes, and a metal bed as the operating table. The overhead surgical light was rusty at the edges, and when turned on, it emitted a glaring light.

Clang, clang... Rustle...

"Take off your clothes and lie on the table." The doctor said, dragging a small table from the corner. On the table, different surgical knives collided, making a harsh sound.

Cheng Yao, like a pig awaiting slaughter in a slaughterhouse, lay naked on the cold operating table. The strong light shining directly on his face made his vision white.

He felt a pain in his arm, turned his head slightly, and saw the doctor pulling out a long needle from his arm. The syringe was empty, the medicine having been injected into his body.

Cheng Yao frowned, "I don't want anesthesia."

The doctor looked at him.

Cheng Yao thought he would say, "Without anesthesia, you won't be able to handle it," but unexpectedly, the doctor said, "I understand."

Without waiting for Cheng Yao to say anything more, the doctor picked up a surgical knife and cut into Cheng Yao's toe.

Cheng Yao felt the pain, which lasted only a moment, and then his vision turned white again.

In the white light, he heard a voice that had haunted him for years:

"Classmate, your shoelaces are loose!"

Cheng Yao felt his heart beating in his chest. He wanted to turn his head but found his body uncontrollably lowering. He saw his sneakers, the shoelaces loose and dragging on the ground.

He fumbled with his textbooks, crouched down to tie his shoelaces, and immediately remembered the voice. He looked up hurriedly and saw a figure walking ahead, a ponytail swinging, already several meters away.

"Thank you!" Cheng Yao called out loudly.

The ponytail turned, revealing a youthful and beautiful face, and she smiled and nodded at Cheng Yao.

"You... classmate, uh, what's your name?" Cheng Yao heard his own stammering voice.

The girl laughed, making Cheng Yao blush.

"My name is Bai Xiao, 'Bai' as in 'day,' 'Xiao' as in 'Xiaosheng,' without the 'sheng,' but my friends call me 'Shengsheng.' " Bai Xiao blinked and laughed again.

Cheng Yao's face turned even redder, and he nervously scratched his head, forgetting the books he was holding. The books fell to the ground, and he awkwardly picked them up, looking up anxiously for Bai Xiao, afraid she would leave. To his surprise, when he looked up, he saw Bai Xiao walking towards him. He watched her help him pick up the books, dumbfounded.

"You asked for my name, what's yours?" Bai Xiao asked with a smile.

"Oh, oh! My name is Cheng Yao! It's written like this!" Cheng Yao tore a page from his notebook, carefully wrote his name, and added his college, class, and student number, carefully handing it to Bai Xiao, "My surname is pronounced 'Cheng,' a polyphonic word, usually pronounced 'Sheng.'"

Bai Xiao laughed again, tilting her head teasingly, "So you're 'Shengsheng' too?"

The two of them crouched on the ground, holding the piece of paper, and as their eyes met, something bloomed in both their hearts.

...

"Your foot is done." The doctor's voice interrupted Cheng Yao's thoughts.

The blooming feeling in Cheng Yao's heart solidified.

The doctor's face blocked the white light.

His hands were covered in fresh blood, and he held a large metal tray. On it, skin, flesh, and bone were separated, like items displayed at a meat market, but more intricate, with even the nails neatly arranged.

"Next is your leg." The doctor put down the tray and picked up another surgical knife.

Cheng Yao followed his hand and looked at his calf.

Below the calf, everything was gone, and the metal table was soaked in red blood.

Cheng Yao's leg skin was dry and rough, pale in color. On the pale skin, there was a shallow scar, like a dying centipede, lying weakly on his leg.

"You have a scar on your leg."

A distant memory echoed.

"Yes. I used to be on the school soccer team, and I got this scar in junior high."

"I used to be in the school band and cheered for the soccer team, carrying violins, cellos, and drums, playing and drumming on the sidelines. It was so silly."

"Are you from No. 3 High School?"

"Huh?"

"Your school is famous, especially the cheerleading... I played against your school and saw your cheerleading team several times... hahaha!"

"Cheng Yao! No laughing!"

"Hahaha... Did you play the violin, cello, or drums? Hahaha..."

"Stop laughing! Stop laughing!"

...

"Next is your hand." The doctor's voice interrupted again.

Cheng Yao felt his hand being lifted.

In the light of the surgical lamp, his hand seemed to glow.

The operating room had unknowingly fallen into darkness, and nothing else in the room could be seen except for his hand illuminated by the surgical lamp. The doctor's figure had disappeared at some point.

Cheng Yao's attention was entirely focused on his hand.

The hand had no rings, not even a mark where a ring might have been, but Cheng Yao seemed to see a simple platinum ring, the beautiful cityscape outside the window, and Bai Xiao's tearful but happy face.

He also saw another ring, a diamond-encrusted, dazzling women's ring. His fingers trembled as he tried to slip the ring onto Bai Xiao's ring finger, but...

"Pfft! You bought the wrong size!" Bai Xiao's tears instantly disappeared.

"How could it be the wrong size? I measured it secretly!" Cheng Yao's forehead was sweating.

Bai Xiao pulled him up from his kneeling position, "We'll go change it tomorrow."

"I measured it... around the finger..." Cheng Yao muttered in frustration.

"Didn't you know my joints are bigger? Measuring at the base of the finger doesn't work."

"Where are they bigger?"

"They're just bigger."

"Not at all!"

"Pfft..."

"Stop laughing. I messed up... really..."

"It's not a mess. I'm happy, I'm very happy." Bai Xiao held Cheng Yao's face, tiptoed, and kissed him.

The ring was no longer important.

...

"Next is your chest... this is your heart." The doctor's voice echoed, and his figure suddenly appeared in the light, replacing Bai Xiao in Cheng Yao's memory, standing in front of him.

His hands pulled out a lump of flesh from Cheng Yao's chest. The faces on his nails were stained with blood, and even the smiling faces looked grotesque. They seemed to be ten little people, dancing and singing around the fresh heart, performing an ancient religious ritual.

Cheng Yao watched the pulsating lump of flesh, as if watching his happiness and joy slowly fade away.

...

"Where's the next stop? You've been to the university, the Ferris wheel for your first date, and now... after graduation... is it Uncle Chen's house? No, no, Uncle Chen's house must be rented out, with someone living there—did you borrow it from Uncle Chen? Would that miser agree? Did you spend the money? Ah! The next place must be the hotel where you proposed..."

...

Cheng Yao watched the heart stop beating, and the ten faces on the doctor's nails became silent.

He hoped the