Chapter 118: The Whole World Becomes My Rival in Love (18)

Bai Yao couldn’t understand. “It was just sleepwalking. Do you really need to be this scared?”

Huo Ruanruan froze.

Sleepwalking?

Yes, waking up to find yourself in an unfamiliar place—wasn’t that just sleepwalking?

In that instant, the chilling atmosphere in the corridor dissipated without a trace.

Bai Yao, uninterested in further conversation, cradled her things and headed downstairs.

Huo Ruanruan tossed away the white veil in her hand and hurried after Bai Yao. Even though she disliked Bai Yao and didn’t want to walk with her, she had no desire to be left alone in that dimly lit corridor.

The white veil on the floor was caught by a draft. Out of the wall, a black arm suddenly reached out and seized the veil, gripping it tightly. Its horned head turned toward the staircase, and a series of creaking noises echoed, as if it were gnashing its teeth in frustration over its ruined mischief.

Tonight, Bai Yao was scheduled for the night shift.

Late at night, the hospital was deserted. Things rarely happened in the evenings; she was merely required to be present by regulation.

Bai Yao sat at the nurse’s station, propping her chin on one hand, idly scrolling through her phone with the other.

She had only meant to watch some short videos, but an advertisement for free reading popped up.

“She’s just a timid little darling, never expecting to be chosen as the bride of a monster. Time and again she tries to escape, but the terrifying monster always catches her.

The monster corners her against the wall, eyes red, smiling wickedly. ‘Run again, and I’ll break your legs!’ he threatens.

She whimpers, trembling in fear.”

Bai Yao glanced at the title: Becoming the Fake Heiress and Getting Spoiled by the Big Shots. This book truly gathered every current trend—fake heiresses, group adoration, escape, and “broken leg” drama—none missing.

No need to guess; that monster big shot would surely go after the real heiress for the sake of the fake one.

Stifling a yawn behind her hand, Bai Yao’s eyelids grew heavy, her seated figure beginning to slouch.

Unable to endure it any longer, she finally lay her head down on the desk.

The corridor lights flickered. Shadows on the wall shifted to the floor, rapidly approaching the nurse’s station.

Footsteps echoed—tap, tap.

A foot landed squarely on the shadow, making it tremble under the weight. Then another foot followed, and the shadow shuddered again.

A white-haired boy dashed past, cheerful.

The black shadow drifted onto the wall, stooping with one hand on its waist, as if it had aged several decades, gasping for breath.

It looked up, glaring resentfully at the boy’s retreating back.

Fu Huai had already slipped into the nurse’s station. He pulled up a chair, sitting right next to Bai Yao, holding his face in both hands, smiling as he stared at her sleeping on the desk.

Bai Yao’s lashes fluttered.

Seeing she was about to wake, Fu Huai quickly smoothed the barrette in his hair, angling his most attractive profile toward her.

Sure enough, when Bai Yao opened her eyes, she was stunned.

Fu Huai’s expression brimmed with pride. The first thing she saw upon waking was his stunning beauty—how could she not feel blessed?

But Bai Yao suddenly reached out and yanked him off the chair, forcing him to crouch beneath the counter, pinned by her hands.

Fu Huai tried to wriggle free in protest, but Bai Yao quickly trapped him with her legs, refusing to let him stand.

He pursed his lips in frustration, about to launch into his usual “ignorant, uncouth brute” spiel when he caught sight of her pale leg pressing toward him, and his anger vanished.

Obediently, he sat beneath the counter, hugging the leg she’d kicked his way.

Bai Yao wanted to scold him, but it was too late.

A young man with a camera around his neck had already walked over, greeting her politely: “Hello, I’m Zhou An.”

Bai Yao mustered a professional smile. “Hello, how can I help you?”

Zhou An said, “I just wanted to ask a few things. I hear there are quite a few mentally disturbed patients in your hospital, and sometimes there’s one who’s always smiling. Is that really true?”

Bai Yao replied, “I’m not entirely sure about that. If you—”

Her tone suddenly changed, hands gripping the edge of the counter as if startled by something.

Zhou An looked at her in confusion.

The next moment, Bai Yao resumed her usual smile. “If you’re interested in these matters, you can come back during the day to interview others.”

As she spoke, she nudged her foot beneath the desk, but both feet were swiftly seized. Fu Huai, energetic as ever, had a surprisingly strong grip.

Now Bai Yao could barely even draw her legs together.

Zhou An grew embarrassed. If he could get useful information during the day, he wouldn’t be prowling around so late at night.

He tried to sound sincere: “Actually, I’m a journalist. I’m here to investigate the curse legend of Lanshan Hospital. I’ve heard many rumors—some say the cursed demon is terrifying, others that the demon grants immortality to its followers—and all these stories come from Lanshan Hospital.”

Bai Yao took a deep breath, forcing her voice to remain steady. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I haven’t worked here long; you probably know more than I do.”

Worried someone might notice something amiss, she lowered her hand, trying to push him away, but instead felt a damp tongue lick her palm.

Glancing down, she saw the soft white hair adorned with a pink-and-white barrette, stray strands occasionally brushing her bare skin and making her itch all over.

Zhou An persisted: “You must know about the patient in room 507, right? That man named Wu, the one with that terrifying, sinister smile…”

“Mr. Zhou,” Bai Yao had lost all patience, pulling on a stiff smile. “I think a gentleman with good manners and breeding wouldn’t disrupt someone’s work. The patients also need peace and quiet at night. As a guest, not a patient, you really should retire for the evening.”

No matter how thick-skinned Zhou An was, he couldn’t keep pestering a woman. He could only apologize in disappointment and turn away.

No one else was around.

Bai Yao quickly pulled the boy from between her knees, ready to kick him, but her legs were still weak and she gave up. “Fu Huai! Didn’t I tell you to stay in your room?”

Propping himself lazily against the desk, Fu Huai smiled sweetly, his voice honeyed: “If it weren’t for the temperature dropping at night, I wouldn’t bother coming to warm you up.”

He spoke with such pride, as if it were all for her, but the way his finger traced his lips, savoring the touch, made it clear he was the one enjoying himself.

How odd—he was the hedonist, always making her feel good, yet he seemed to take pleasure in it, too.

In high spirits, Fu Huai leaned bonelessly against Bai Yao, whispering in her ear, “Yao Yao, does it feel good?”

Bai Yao slapped away his hand, which was creeping up her skirt, straightening her clothes and quietly scolding, “If you keep misbehaving, don’t expect me to buy you any more strawberries.”

Fu Huai grumbled in protest, “You’re the one who shoved me down there!”

Just then, a patient pressed the call button. The display showed it was room 507. Bai Yao pushed the clingy boy away and stood up. “I’ve got work to do. Don’t get in my way.”

“But there’s no one else here. I’m scared,” Fu Huai called after her.

Bai Yao paused, glancing back. He stood there all alone, looking rather pitiful.

She relented. “Not a word. Stay quiet.”

A smile broke across Fu Huai’s face as he hurried after her.

Bai Yao found a moment to pull up the hood of his sweatshirt, wishing she could cover his whole face.

On the fifth floor, she headed straight for 507, not noticing the boy had stopped.

Fu Huai stood outside room 505, peering through the small window in the door. He locked eyes with the patient inside.

It was a man restrained by straps, his face ghostly pale, eyes pitch black, burning with hatred and envy—the very same look reflected in the boy outside.

In that instant, their eyes met, and the meaning was unmistakable:

—What an ugly imposter.

Fu Huai licked his lips in a show of triumph.

Inside the room, the restrained man began to struggle violently, the jealous fire in his eyes threatening to consume everything.