Bai Liu watched the constantly crying Mu Ke and tried to make him stop, but after several attempts, it didn't work. Even when Bai Liu said something like, "I order you not to cry," Mu Ke would only cover his mouth while tears continued to stream from his eyes. Pitifully, he explained that he couldn't stop and might need a few more minutes.
Mu Ke didn't think he was someone who cried easily. He didn't know why, but every time he saw Bai Liu, he felt like a wronged child facing his parents, finally allowed to complain. It was as if he had endless tears stored up inside him. He felt embarrassed, but he couldn't control it. Lowering his head, Mu Ke felt ashamed—yet also a trace of subtle joy.
Bai Liu eventually stopped paying attention to Mu Ke's crying and turned to Liu Huai, whose expression was difficult to describe.
Liu Huai's face clearly said: So this is how you usually fool your teammates?
Bai Liu pretended not to notice and calmly changed the topic. "Shall we discuss the next plan?"
Liu Huai suppressed his expression; his gaze toward Bai Liu was complicated. He had witnessed the entire process of Bai Liu coaxing Mu Ke and couldn't help but sigh. "I still can't believe I was so easily persuaded by you to join your team. This means going against Miao Feichi's group. Even if we clear this instance, there will be consequences."
"Yes. If you hadn't joined my team, it would've been difficult for you and your sister to clear the instance." Bai Liu raised his eyes. "Your sister, Liu Jiayi, would most likely have been used as a blood sacrifice—or eaten—by Miao Feichi."
Convincing Liu Huai had been simple for Bai Liu. Seeking him out and recruiting him had been an obvious choice.
The monster in Mu Ke's room had resurrected, and Bai Liu had already used up Mu Sicheng's speed skill. To rescue Mu Ke from the ICU, he needed to bypass the nurses and enter the ICU again.
He couldn't accomplish this alone. Nor could he rely on Miao Feichi's group a second time. Deceiving them once had been possible, but Miao Feichi's skill had severely drained his stamina. Like Bai Liu's own depletion, that kind of exhaustion couldn't be restored with a stamina potion. If Bai Liu wanted to manipulate someone again, it would have to be Miao Gaojiang—a player with low mobility.
But Miao Gaojiang's abilities were useless for someone who needed speed and escape.
Bai Liu required a player who was fast, skilled at concealment, and good at retreating. He knew his own weaknesses and needed someone he could control.
No one was more suitable than Liu Huai.
Liu Huai and Miao Feichi's group were all on the fifth floor. Finding his ward had been simple. There were only three new patients there: Miao Feichi, Miao Gaojiang, and Liu Huai.
The new patients' room signs were different. After excluding the other two, Liu Huai's ward was easy to identify. Bai Liu had gone in carrying two heavy bargaining chips: Liu Jiayi and the life-recovery medicine. Convincing Liu Huai had taken less than a minute.
Now Liu Huai lay back on the hospital bed, staring up at the foggy ceiling with distracted eyes.
"You're saying Jiayi will become the hunting target of our group of 'investors' because we need to water our beds with children's blood to survive?"
"I'll correct two inaccuracies in that statement," Bai Liu replied calmly.
He raised one finger. "First, strictly speaking, we don't need to pour blood onto the bed to survive. We need to consume the blood ganoderma lucidum that grows from the blood soaked into the bed. That is the life-recovery medicine for us, terminal patients."
He patted the bed beneath Liu Huai. Liu Huai lifted a hand to cover his eyes, pressing his lips together as if trying to block out the image.
Bai Liu raised a second finger. "Second, I told you—Liu Jiayi isn't the only hunting target. However, her blindness makes her particularly vulnerable among the children."
His tone remained steady. "You know this, Liu Huai. On the children's side, there's the underage Miao Feichi, who likes to eat children's flesh. My child told me that Miao Feichi often follows behind Liu Jiayi, swallowing his saliva. As a blind child, she is at an absolute disadvantage. She's an ideal target for him."
"It can be said that your sister is a double target." Liu Huai slowly clenched his fists and lowered the hand covering his eyes. He turned and stared directly at Bai Liu.
Bai Liu continued calmly, "As for me, I promised my friend I would protect your sister. Her successful call tonight was the result of my child protecting her. I said I would safeguard Liu Jiayi because she is the child my friend intends to adopt."
Liu Huai inhaled deeply and sat up, crossing his legs on the bed as he faced Bai Liu. "I believe you now," he said quietly. "So tell me—what's the next step?"
"The logical structure of this game is already clear." Bai Liu leaned back, opened the bedside drawer, and took out a pen. He tore a blank title page from a book and began writing as he spoke. When analyzing, Bai Liu preferred simplicity.
He tapped the pen lightly and wrote: Level 2 game — 50–80% mortality rate.
"This game divided our health into two identity lines—adult and child. Each occupies 50% of our total health."
He wrote two "50"s on the page and drew a confrontational arrow between them.
"These two identity lines were never meant to cooperate from the start. The game states that only 50% of players can survive. A more logical conclusion is that we are in opposition to the children who share our health bar."
That was why Bai Liu had always maintained a certain vigilance toward little Bai Liu (6).
"In a sense, we are enemies with these children," Bai Liu continued, glancing at Liu Huai's grave expression. "The life-recovery medicine confirmed my theory."
"Our investor group must draw blood from the corresponding child to survive. Based on the timing in the Mother Goose rhyme—' Born on Monday, christened on Tuesday, married on Wednesday, took ill on Thursday, grew worse on Friday, died on Saturday, buried on Sunday'—we must draw their blood before Thursday, before we become seriously ill. Otherwise, we'll die from the disease within a day."
On the paper, Bai Liu wrote: DDL (deadline): three days.
"The same applies to the children. They must escape the Love Welfare Institute before Thursday to avoid having their blood drawn. Their primary objective is to flee."
He tapped the pen thoughtfully. "In fact, I believe little Bai Liu (6)—my child—has already realized the adversarial relationship between us. When I handed over my weakness to him earlier, he understood what I was doing. I gave him the power to end my life at any time. That act ultimately led him to choose cooperation."
Liu Huai stared at Bai Liu, who had only six health points remaining. The moment their eyes met those ancient, steady eyes, Liu Huai felt a chill run down his spine. He understood what Bai Liu was planning to do next.
"I want to confirm something again." Bai Liu looked at Liu Huai, his tone so calm it hardly seemed like he was discussing life and death. "You're willing to give your life for your sister, right? Mu Ke and I are already close to the bottom of our health points. I believe you can see the direction we've chosen."
He stated plainly, "We will protect the small, not the big."
The reason little Bai Liu (6) had finally been willing to trust him was simple: Bai Liu had shown that he was willing to sacrifice himself so the younger version could live. He had deliberately handed over his weakness—something that allowed little Bai Liu (6) to kill him at any time.
Little Bai Liu (6) understood that.
He had been curious about Bai Liu's unconditional dedication—his willingness to sacrifice without asking for anything in return. That curiosity was exactly what Bai Liu wanted. No one understood better than him what it took to gain the trust of his fourteen-year-old self.
He had to become Lu Yizhan.
The fourteen-year-old Bai Liu had trusted Lu Yizhan because he knew that, when faced with the choice between hurting himself and hurting Bai Liu, Lu Yizhan would always choose to hurt himself.
Now, little Bai Liu (6) would trust the current Bai Liu for the same reason—because this "investor" Bai Liu had turned himself into his own version of Lu Yizhan: someone who would give without reservation, even at the cost of his life.
Liu Huai's expression darkened, clouded with uncertainty.
Bai Liu seemed not to notice. He lowered his gaze and continued studying the paper in his hand.
Unaffected by Liu Huai's inner turmoil, Bai Liu continued his analysis in an even tone.
"In my view, it's unlikely that drawing blood from just one child will produce enough blood ganoderma lucidum to save one investor. The lowest mortality rate of this Level 2 game is 50%. If one child's blood equaled one survivor, that wouldn't align with the expected difficulty."
He wrote on the paper: 6 → 3.
"This is a six-player game. With a 50–80% mortality rate, the number of deaths should fall between three and 4.8 players."
With a few strokes, Bai Liu sketched a small stick figure of a girl. "However, this instance has a special variable—there is a player on the children's side: Liu Jiayi."
At the mention of her name, Liu Huai's eyes snapped to Bai Liu's face.
Bai Liu continued evenly, "There are only five children whose blood can be drawn. If we assume the lowest mortality rate—50%—then only three players need to die. Suppose Liu Jiayi dies from blood extraction and fills one of those death slots. Further assume that all surviving players are investors."
He wrote: Maximum investor clearance efficiency.
"In that ideal scenario, three investors survive. Based on that ratio, each investor would require approximately 1.6 children's worth of blood."
He wrote 1.6 on the paper and circled both the "1" and the "0.6."
His eyes were steady. "So who is the '1,' and who is the '0.6'? The game provides a very obvious hint."
"The child each of us invested in is the core blood source—the '1.' We can use the blood of our designated child. Then we only need an additional 0.6 from another child to cultivate the blood ganoderma lucidum."
He calmly crossed out the 1.6. "I rejected this plan. The cost-performance ratio is too low. If one investor abstains from drawing blood, then 1.6 children can be saved. Our group of blood-sucking adults is far less valuable than the children's survival path."
He drew a protective shield over the small sketch of Liu Jiayi and looked up at Liu Huai. "So I chose to prioritize the children's health. The life-recovery medicine is useless for Mu Ke and me. We will not complete this main task."
He paused deliberately, watching Liu Huai's increasingly pale face.
"But you and I are in different positions. Mu Ke and I might sacrifice ourselves to protect our younger selves—but if the plan works, we won't actually die. We'll clear the instance."
"Liu Huai, your situation is different." Bai Liu's gaze was steady. "You and Liu Jiayi are two independent, opposing individuals. If you choose to protect her, there is a high probability that you will die—because you cannot draw her blood."
"So what will you choose?" It was an undeniably cruel question.
Yet Bai Liu asked it with open curiosity, as if observing a rare specimen. His eyes were focused, intent on studying something fundamentally different from himself.
What would Liu Huai do for his sister? Was that love truly like Lu Yizhan's—so irrational that someone would willingly give up their own survival for it?
Especially for someone like Liu Huai, whose desire to live was so strong.
Bai Liu absentmindedly traced his pen over the protective shield he had drawn around the little girl. Dark scribbles accumulated over it, like shadows spreading across the surface.
Liu Huai sat silently on the bed, daggers hanging loosely in his hands. He looked numb—but his breathing was rapid.
Bai Liu withdrew his gaze. He had already seen it: the struggle, the fear twisting Liu Huai's features. It was the fear of uncontrollable, approaching death.
That fear was real. And in that moment, Liu Huai's hesitation made his earlier declarations of love feel hollow.
Bai Liu felt an unexpected dullness. He stood up, no longer interested in observing. It's no different from the self-righteous "love" I've seen before, he thought indifferently.
He had hoped to glimpse something in Liu Huai that might explain Lu Yizhan—something incomprehensible to him.
But in the end, it seemed the same. People could easily say, I love you. I'm willing to give up everything for you.
Yet the words tasted like nothing. Their sweetness was self-serving. In the end, what they offered others were spit-stained crumbs—worthless scraps. After all, people were selfish.
Bai Liu opened his mouth and spoke casually, "If you want to clear the instance as an investor, I can ask little Bai Liu (6) to help draw—"
"Bai Liu," Liu Huai suddenly interrupted. He looked up, fear and desperation evident in his eyes, mixed with faint anxiety.
"If I die… will your friend really adopt Jia Jia?" Liu Huai looked like an animal breeder forced to give up his cub. His face was tight with restrained unease.
"Jia Jia can't see, and she always clings to me. I'm afraid she won't manage alone after I'm gone. Your friend seems like a good person—someone who would take care of her." His voice grew unsteady. "If you could also help find a way to cure her eyes…"
The university student who hadn't even graduated yet was now talking about raising a child. It was strangely contradictory. For a moment, he seemed older—like a parent the same age as Liu Fu and Xiang Chunhua.
The fear on Liu Huai's face never faded, yet everything he spoke about concerned Liu Jiayi. It seemed he was more afraid that his death would worsen her life than of dying himself.
"She doesn't like sleeping alone at night. I sewed a bear for her—it's a bit old, but she loves it. If you take her out of the welfare home, remember to bring her with you. She doesn't talk much, but she's very well-behaved. She just gets scared when she can't hear any sounds, so turn on the TV for her. She likes hamsters, but she's not good at taking care of them. Don't buy any for her. She'll cry terribly if they die…"
Bai Liu was silent for a moment before interrupting him. "You really want to sacrifice yourself for your sister?"
Liu Huai answered immediately, without hesitation. "There's nothing to think about. I entered this game to give her a better future. That means she has to live."
His reasoning was painfully clear. He glanced at Bai Liu and forced an ugly, bitter smile. "Bai Liu, if I were a strong player like you or Mu Sicheng, things might be different. But I'm not. I can't give her a bright future with my own hands. There are only a few things I can do. So I'll fight desperately to let her live. That's the only thing I'm capable of."
"Real death… isn't that hard to accept." Liu Huai seemed to finally exhale in resignation. His shoulders slumped as he shook his head, as if comforting himself. "I knew this day would come sooner or later when I entered this game. It's just… Jia Jia hasn't gotten better yet. She hasn't even seen what I look like. I'm just… unwilling."
But unwillingness meant nothing.
In this game, if he wanted to live, Liu Jiayi would have to die. The cruelty of it allowed him no space to indulge in reluctance.
"I—if living meant killing… I would do anything…" Liu Huai's voice trailed off. His shoulders drooped, and he fell silent for a long time.
Tears slid from his eyes and dropped onto the daggers clenched tightly in his hands. He had once tried to use these same daggers to kill his best friend in order to survive. Yet now, he had encountered someone he couldn't betray.
Bai Liu didn't interrupt him.
Liu Huai sat on the bed that required blood to nourish it. His face was pale, like a corpse about to be laid into a coffin. His hands trembled faintly.
Bai Liu found it faintly absurd.
Liu Huai was terrified of death—terrified to this extent. Yet even knowing he might die, his first concern was Liu Jiayi, not himself.
That kind of instinctive emotional response felt incomprehensible to Bai Liu.
Liu Huai lowered his head and let out a bitter laugh. Then he clenched his fists, inhaled deeply, and lifted his head again.
"Bai Liu," he said hoarsely, "your personal skill is trading, right? If I die, I can give you something very useful."
He looked at Bai Liu with exhausted despair. It was the expression of someone who had laid everything down and emptied himself. Only fear and unshed tears remained in his eyes. He grabbed Bai Liu's hand, his voice choked. "The condition is that you help me—"
"—Let Liu Jiayi see again, right?" Bai Liu finished calmly. He met Liu Huai's weary, desperate gaze for a moment before withdrawing his own. "Wait until you're dead before bringing it up," Bai Liu said evenly. "I don't make short-term trades."