Chapter 649: The

My name is Li Huowang.

I don’t have a mental illness, and I’m not crazy.

Baiyu Jing is real, just like the modern world; my parents, my girlfriend Yang Na, and my wife Bai Lingmiao are all real.

Real, real, all real!

I’m perfectly sane—it’s the previous world that was sick, and now I, the normal one, look like the lunatic!

I really like Song Shuhang’s line: “When the entire world falls into deep slumber, the only awake person becomes a lonely one!”

Didn’t Brother Shuhang say that?

But whatever—it’s such an insightful line; only someone cultured could say it.

I’ve said all this, but the truth is, many people still hold prejudices against me; their impression hasn’t changed, even those who call me brother and drink with me daily.

“Bed A21, Li Huowang, time for your medicine.” The orderly walked over with a handful of pills.

“I’m not sick—why the hell should I take any?!” Li Huowang yelled at the orderly, strapped to his restraints: “You’ve got shit for brains!”

The orderly glanced at him and said, “Increase the dosage.”

Li Huowang couldn’t understand why, after entering Kleen’s dream world, he ended up in a psychiatric hospital—was he still perceived as a lunatic in Kleen’s mind?!

This internal impression saddened him.

“God of Light, I want to have a child with you!”

On the opposite wire bed, the patient with a sign reading [Sex Addiction] moaned continuously, alternately crying, “God of Light, I want to have a child with you!” and then, “Mr. Fool, I want you to give me a child!”

To the right was a man with deep black, thorn-like tattoos circling his head, imitating Jesus, his skin grayish-blue like a zombie.

Li Huowang didn’t know what was wrong with him, but the guy kept screaming “Restart! Restart!” as if his brain had crashed.

On the left, a woman held a lightbulb aimed at the ceiling, singing, “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.”

There was also a naked man painted entirely pale gold, wandering the corridor, asking others, “Want to touch my magic lamp?”

This one was even more heavyweight.

They were all fucking lunatics, and I’ve been stuck with them for two days.

In the past, Li Huowang would’ve seized the chance to punch the orderly who fed him pills—but

“It’s fine, Miaomiao, look how well I acted out my episode? Hehehe, your cooking is delicious!”

“Hey hey hey, don’t be mad—I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Li Huowang opened his mouth and swallowed the dark, murky liquid—tasting vaguely like Banlangen herbal medicine—along with the white tablets.

After swallowing, he stared straight ahead—at the sex-addicted woman with pink hair like dead branches, neither clearly male nor female—and said:

“Miaomiao, I told you I’m not in a rush about the child. Okay, let’s have the baby tonight.”

The woman across from him froze instantly.

She stared at Li Huowang for a long moment, swallowing as if starving, then gradually her eyes grew hazy.

Shhh—!

The pink-haired woman snapped back to awareness, her face twisted in terror as she curled backward: “Who am I? What am I supposed to do?! I have a child—I don’t have a child...”

“Tonight. Daytime’s no good—too many people in the village.” Li Huowang gently reached out, as if caressing an invisible lover—actually, he was speaking to Da Nuo.

All the other patients fell silent, their madness ceasing; deep in their eyes flickered a quiet sorrow, like rabbits mourning the fox’s death.

The orderlies approached with black herbal decoctions and white tablets.

Soon, the windowless room grew quiet; the orderlies finished their task and left.

“What a bunch of lunatics,” Li Huowang muttered.

These sedatives really do work on mental illness—thankfully, I don’t have one, so taking them just made me sleepy.

But today was odd—perhaps because they confirmed Li Huowang was cooperative, or because they thought the dosage was sufficient, the orderlies removed his restraints after he took the medicine.

When the door shut behind them,

Li Huowang rolled off the bed and stretched comfortably.

He walked to the door, peering closely through the bars—nothing but darkness outside.

‘This must be a basement or several levels underground.’

‘Following the airflow, there’s probably only one corridor.’

‘Meals are delivered three times a day—breakfast and lunch are done; dinner’s in an hour, but there’ll be guards with it.’

‘The door’s still locked. My strength is no better than a normal person’s—if I had tools, I could peel off my skin, turn it into a resurrection artifact, toss it outside, then resurrect myself.’

Li Huowang turned his gaze inward, thinking of how to escape.

He entered this dream world to wake up Brother Zhou—not to relive suffering. It’s like last week when my parents took me and Na Na to a wild-vegetable restaurant.

As he thought, the naked man wandering the corridor suddenly vanished.

Li Huowang rubbed his eyes, staring intently—no illusion, he was truly gone?!

Scritch!

“Want to touch my magic lamp?” The pale-gold man appeared before Li Huowang, speaking softly: “I can grant your wish—but I can’t find it.”

His clenched fist nearly swung out.

“Wish? Magic lamp?”

He’d studied some of Brother Zhou’s dream world rules: anything appearing in his memory manifests as “real” in the dream.

This lunatic—could he be a Genie? But how could a Genie appear in Brother Zhou’s dream?

Li Huowang suddenly realized something was off. He turned and walked to the bed of the androgynous, now dazed, pink-haired sex-addicted patient.

He rummaged through the pile and found a stack of medical records.

“Yuwen Mushi. Psychological gender, free sexual orientation, inclusive. Hukou: Rongcheng.”

Yuwen Mushi—Desire Mother Tree?!

Li Huowang then approached the woman with the lightbulb, singing “Twinkle, Twinkle.” Suddenly, a hand shot out from beneath the bedding and grabbed his wrist.

“Let me out of the barrier... I won’t come to Earth anymore...”

He looked down—a frail old man murmured in his sleep: “Your king has returned...”

Li Huowang easily pulled free, picked up the lightbulb—and realized it wasn’t glass at all, but a glowing supernova.

“Are you the Supernova Sovereign?!”

How did these Outer Gods end up here?

That shouldn’t be possible!

“Supernova Sovereign?” The dazed young woman repeated the name, her eyes clouded with confusion: “I’m the Supernova Sovereign... I’m Liu Xing... No! I can’t tell anymore! Aaaah!!!”

Hiss. That’s the vibe.

Li Huowang’s pupils shrank; he stared at this incomprehensible scene and instinctively stepped back two paces.

He looked down at the lightbulb in his hand, thought deeply, then spoke to the air: “Zhuge... what’s the phone number for Qingwang and Zhao Shuang?”

I could think in Red’s logic, but it’s too taxing and might be wrong—better to hear what a clever person would say.

But then...

He asked the Genie standing in the corridor: “If I wish for you to open the door, can you do it?”

The pale-gold Genie, resembling a Shaolin Bronze Man, smiled. He opened his mouth to speak—but Li Huowang’s gaze shifted behind him.

A light source appeared in the pitch-black corridor.

The Genie turned—and saw a flat, round, mochi-like entity, formed of pure light, with white wings, slowly crawling toward them.

It stopped before the Genie, opened its mouth: “Did you lose this mask, or this monocle, or this die?”

The Genie blinked, then shook his head.

“You’re honest. Then take them all.”

The name “Old Hospital” struck Zhou Mingrui as odd—it sounded like a place where Cthulhu entities received treatment.

“Mr. Zhou, didn’t I ask you to make time to see me?” Audrey’s voice carried mild reproach, yet no pressure—only deep concern:

“You’re too tired. Sometimes, just talking to me helps you relax.”

For some reason, everyone else had distanced themselves from both Zhou Mingrui and Dr. Audrey, as if misunderstanding something, deliberately giving them space.

“No... I’ve been swamped with work lately.” Zhou Mingrui spoke truthfully—the new luxury car Huang Zong bought was proof.

But there was another key reason: after checking Dr. Audrey’s fees online, he thought they were too expensive.

Two hours cost him a month’s salary.

“We’re in the same group—you haven’t chatted with us lately.” Audrey pouted playfully.

“I haven’t had time online...” Zhou Mingrui smiled apologetically.

It was a mystery-themed chat group called the Tarot Society; Audrey’s username was Justice from the Tarot deck.

Strange, wasn’t it? In such a huge city, who’d imagine a blind date was a chat group member?

But calling it a blind date wasn’t quite right—he hadn’t volunteered for any of this; there were complicated reasons behind each one...

Last time, it was his boss’s daughter, Huang Beibei—a high school student—who, thanks to Li Jiatu’s mischief, became his date. He was still employed—that was a miracle.

Before that, it was Sharon, the doll shop owner; he accidentally went with her to see A Chinese Ghost Story. Before that, it was Forsyth, the lazy writer; she claimed his presence gave her pressure to finish her drafts.

And the ones before that...

One was a female executive from a multinational company... Amani... Sis something? Eating with her filled Zhou Mingrui with a terrifying sense of pressure.

Not that these women were bad partners—just as a salaryman, many things were unrealistic, and many were foreigners.

“Well, you’re free today.” Audrey smiled, gesturing to the large dining hall filled with medical staff: “After your work ends, I can still give you psychological counseling.”

“Our hospital’s meal service isn’t bad—if you’re not picky, why not have dinner here?”

Zhou Mingrui began weighing how to respond.

No, the real issue was: where had Su Yuling, chairwoman of Taichu Group, gone? Wasn’t he here for something other than touring this hospital?

Zhou Mingrui frowned at Lu Mingfei, Xiao Yan, and the others: “It’s nearly evening—where’s Chairman Su?”

“I’ll call and ask.” Lu Mingfei raised his phone.

Zhou Mingrui gave a slight nod. “I’ll go to the restroom first.”

He clutched his stomach and hurried toward the bathroom, looking unwell.

Xiao Yan watched him, then glanced at Audrey, who had been giving Zhou Mingrui subtle signals all along, and smirked: “Is your hospital planning a collaboration with the Pill Alliance?”

“Yes, we need some medicines,” Audrey nodded.

“What kind exactly?” Xiao Yan asked.

Audrey smiled calmly: “About gender dysphoria—people who can’t tell if they’re male or female.”

Public restroom.

Zhou Mingrui washed his face lightly, then patted his cheeks—he felt better.

He looked up at the mirror above the sink, when suddenly a buzzing sound filled the air; the restroom plunged into darkness, then blazed back to light.

Yet during this time, no fear or panic arose—though it might sound strange, being in this confined space actually calmed him.

Besides, assassins could hide in shadows, merging with darkness.

He adjusted his clothes, preparing to turn and walk out—the distance should’ve been just a few steps—but something changed.

When he pushed open the door, the world twisted.

Floor tiles, walls, ceiling—all became smooth, like mirrors reflecting his image.

The light was dim; countless mirrors held copies of himself.

“They cannot interfere in what’s between us…”

“You have no reason to resist…”

“From now on, I am your divinity…”

Each mirrored Zhou Mingrui urged him, their backs facing kaleidoscopic abysses—countless black worlds and suns spun within those depths.

Zhou Mingrui froze, then slowly straightened his back; after a silent sigh, he said:

“It’s normal Lu Mingfei didn’t consider these things—especially since you’ve lowered his intellect. His words on the car, given the atmosphere, were clearly meant to trigger your defensive measures.”

The mirrored Zhou Mingruis smiled faintly, but against the backdrop of black worlds, their smiles turned chilling.

“Still, I am moved,” Zhou Mingrui gazed at his reflection a moment, then declared firmly:

“So even for this feeling, I won’t let divinity take control—besides, you may not even be my divinity, and I won’t become the humanity of Fusheng Xuanhuang Tianzun.”

“He can’t help you—in this world, and his condition is poor,” the mirrored Zhou Mingruis said, smiles unchanged.

“You mean Su Lin?” Zhou Mingrui stared at them.

The mirrored Zhou Mingruis did not deny it.

“You’re mistaken,” Zhou Mingrui said. “I knew from the start you’d target him—I never bet on him or Lu Mingfei.”

“If you truly became me, you’d understand what I mean.”

The mirrored Zhou Mingruis watched him calmly, smiles unaltered.

Then, noise pierced through layers of deep darkness.

Li Huowang swung his baton, knocking down a guard, and charged into the cafeteria from behind the pursuing crowd.

He spotted Lu Mingfei and Xiao Yan and shouted: “This isn’t a true dream world! This is reality!!!”