Su Yang sent a car from the Bureau of Heresy to take Bai Liu and his team to the sanatorium. He had already spoken to the director, who promptly met them on arrival and led them inside.
The sanatorium was a bit old, but the décor and greenery were pleasant. The central building was surrounded by a small, well-kept garden, while a corner building looked more upscale, with a small pond featuring lotus flowers and fish near the main entrance.
"The patient in room 906 is in the innermost building," the director said, leading Bai Liu through the garden as he walked quickly. "We work with two nearby hospitals, but they often lack space and aren't very comfortable or spacious."
"Some financially well-off patients who don't want to stay in a regular ward can transfer here, provided they cover the accommodation costs. That's how the patient in room 906 ended up here."
The director continued, "The patient's doctor said the boy's illness wasn't an emergency—there's no organic pathology. It's purely a psychological issue."
"The doctor also said the patient refuses to remember events older than a week. Medication has a limited effect, and he needs a relaxed environment to recover over time, which is why he was referred here."
The director looked up at the innermost building, partly hidden by trees, with a complicated expression. "For this patient, forgetting everything might actually be a blessing."
Bai Liu raised an eyebrow. "A long stay in a place like this must cost a lot."
"He pays for it himself," the director replied. "The patient in room 906 has lost all his parents and relatives but inherited a large estate—enough to cover decades here."
"He has a bank card dedicated to paying his expenses, and we just transfer money from it monthly. It seems he also has some kind of business—maybe online gaming—because a lot of money comes in every week. When asked where it comes from, the patient is confused and says he doesn't remember."
"Because he can only remember the past week, he genuinely doesn't know where the money came from before that," the director explained.
Bai Liu nodded knowingly. Once a week, that money clearly reflected the points Du Sanying had earned in the game.
The director led them to the lift. "As this patient only has a week's memory and has cognitive difficulties, he gets frightened easily. Please be quiet and friendly so you don't scare him."
On reaching the ninth floor, they followed the corridor, turned a corner, and stopped in front of room 906.
From behind the door came a strangely accented voice: "Someone's coming! Someone's coming!"
Mu Sicheng tilted his head. "Is… that a bird?"
"Oh! I almost forgot!" The director tapped his head, opening the door and turning to Bai Liu apologetically. "The patient in room 906 has a parrot."
"????" Mu Sicheng blinked. "A parrot? What does he need that for?!"
The director explained, "Because of his short memory, the patient often tries to record what he did a week ago. But the sanatorium cannot provide sharp objects to patients, so he can't use a pen."
"So he got a parrot and taught it to repeat key words as reminders of past events," the director said.
Mu Sicheng frowned. "Don't you allow electronic devices? Like a phone? Let him use memos or something."
"We do," the director said, spreading his hands. "But he forgets his password after a week."
Mu Sicheng: "..."
The director continued helplessly, "We can't record passwords for patients due to privacy regulations. Hard resets erase all previous data. We suggested tape recorders, electronic drawing boards, and so on, but after memory loss, he couldn't trust those recordings. Patients trust their pets more than devices."
The director sighed. "Originally, a parrot was forbidden, but the doctor approved it, thinking a pet might improve his cognitive state. It stays on the balcony, not indoors, so it's acceptable."
He knocked softly. "May we come in?"
After a long silence, the parrot's polite voice replied, "Come in."
The director opened the door to an empty room with the balcony window open and curtains billowing. The parrot perched haughtily, but there was no one on the bed or in the bathroom.
Mu Sicheng spun around. "???? Where is he?!"
Bai Liu and Liu Jiayi's eyes landed on the edge of the bed.
The director knelt and softly called, "Mr. Du Sanying, don't be afraid. We're not here to harm you, just to see you."
As Mu Sicheng bent down incredulously, it became clear: Du Sanying was hiding under the bed.
The skinny boy crouched, clutching bedding and pillows. Half his face was hidden, his knees drawn to his chest, one wary eye peeking over the quilt, glasses pushed up to his eyebrows.
"I don't know you guys," Du Sanying whispered.
He shrank further, clearly unwilling to come out.
The director slapped his forehead in exasperation.
Bai Liu bowed slightly. "Please… can you give us a moment alone with him?"
The director nodded. "Call me if you need anything. Don't scare him; his memory was likely cleared only recently."
Once the director left, Mu Sicheng's eyes lit up. He rolled up his sleeves, clenched his fists, and tried to pull Du Sanying out.
He still held a grudge against Du Sanying for his absurd luck—overpowering him, stealing his loot, and always playing innocent!
Though he realized the boy had suffered, Du Sanying's timid, pleading posture made Mu Sicheng feel he had no choice but to take action.
As soon as Mu Sicheng's hand reached under the bed, Du Sanying let out a startled "Ahh!" One corner of the bed collapsed, the broken frame pressing down on Mu Sicheng's hand.
The IV stand at the side of the bed tipped dangerously, threatening to plunge into his throat.
Tang Erda steadied the frame in the blink of an eye.
Mu Sicheng yelped, pulled his hand back, jumped to his feet, and blew on his reddened, smashed palm.
He stared in horror at the iron-barred bed. "This thing can break?!"
Liu Jiayi's eyes softened with pity. "Du Sanying is 100% lucky. Do you really think you can just pull someone like him out from under a bed?"
She glanced at the wrecked bed. "As long as he doesn't want to come out himself, Du Sanying will stay safe under that bed today—even if an earthquake buried us all."
Mu Sicheng shook his hand in disbelief. "So… why didn't you tell me earlier?"
Liu Jiayi gave him a sidelong look. "I had to verify it first. The results look positive."
Mu Sicheng: "..."
There is no such thing as a nice, smart person.
Bai Liu crouched, hands on his knees, leveling himself with the terrified Du Sanying under the bed. After a brief pause, without hesitation, he gripped the bed rail and leaned in.
"!!!" Du Sanying scrambled further under the bed, screaming, "Don't come closer! You'll get hurt!"
Bai Liu lay down calmly beside him, smiling sideways. "So you're not hiding because you're timid… but because you're afraid someone nearby will get hurt?"
Du Sanying stared blankly into Bai Liu's black eyes. Slowly, he loosened the thick blanket around himself, as if shocked beyond comprehension, and looked Bai Liu up and down incredulously, stammering.
"You… you're okay?!"
Bai Liu extended his hand gently. "Perhaps I should introduce myself. I'm Bai Liu."
"—a gamer you met once."
Du Sanying stared for a long moment, as if ensuring that the man near him wouldn't get hurt. Tentatively, he tapped Bai Liu's hand lightly with a finger, then withdrew it, whispering:
"...I'm said to be called Du Ying. That's what the patient sign above my bed says."
Instead of pulling back, Bai Liu turned fully to face him and inched closer, smiling softly. "You helped me once. Can we come out and talk?"
Du Sanying hesitated, eyes fixed on Bai Liu, checking that nothing bad would happen. Slowly, he placed his hand on Bai Liu's palm.
"Okay, good."
Bai Liu pulled, lifting Du Sanying from under the collapsed bed.
Once out, Du Sanying instinctively distanced himself. He looked away, clasped his hands to his chest, hunched, and scowled, every muscle tense as if bracing against the outside world.
It was clear at a glance that he hadn't interacted with anyone for a long time.
Bai Liu stepped back, giving him space, and spoke gently. "This isn't the first time we've met, though you probably don't remember me. We met in a game, and you helped me a lot."
Du Sanying's eyes widened. "...I helped you?"
Bai Liu smiled. "Yes. You did me a great favor, and I've come to ask for your help again this time. I hope you'll remember that we've been friends and lend me a hand."
Du Sanying's eyes went even wider. "...You're my friend?"
"Of course." Bai Liu's expression softened, a hint of nostalgia in his smile. "If you hadn't forgotten me after that game, I would have chased you to keep playing together. But you forgot… and we never met again."
"We could have been soulmates."
Mu Sicheng: "Pfft!!!"
God! Soulmate!
You mean the kind of best friend who steals someone else's soul?
Du Sanying's shoulders relaxed a little. He wiped his palms against the seam of his hospital gown and stole a glance at Bai Liu.
"Sorry..." he murmured, blushing. "Bai Liu, I forgot… I don't even remember what games we played…"
The parrot on the balcony heard a certain keyword and, like a toy with a triggered switch, erupted—flapping its wings and trilling loudly:
"Bai Liu! Bai Liu! Bad guy! Bad guy! Encounter! Run! Run!"
Du Sanying froze.
Bai Liu froze.
Tang Erda froze.
Liu Jiayi froze.
Mu Sicheng: "Pfft—!!!"