"Song Linjia!"
The three of them shouted in unison.
"You're still alive?" Lu Zhaohui said in shock.
Ever since Song Linjia turned into a porcelain person and disappeared, they hadn't heard from her. They’d tried calling, texting, sending Feihu—everything.
Everyone assumed she had met a tragic end or couldn’t accept becoming a porcelain person and had taken her own life.
Song Linjia walked into the pavilion. Under the astonished gaze of the trio, she spun twice like a ballet dancer. “I’m back.”
They all noticed—this time, Song Linjia had returned in her human form. She no longer made the "creak-creak" sounds of a porcelain body, and her appearance hadn’t changed.
A porcelain person could turn back into a human?
"Where did you go?" Lu Zhaohui asked.
"I went to the clinic," Song Linjia admitted openly.
The trio's faces immediately changed, looking at her in shock.
Back when Chen Jiabin went to the clinic, he ended up infected and disguised himself as a player, killing Xiao Yi and Wang Wentao. Li Ran had also heard from Uncle Ge that the clinic in the west was a place to avoid.
They knew the clinic could cure people, but the price was high.
Yet here was Song Linjia, acting as if it were no big deal. She said casually, "They performed surgery on me and turned me back to how I was before."
The more casually she spoke, the heavier their hearts felt.
Zhao Yingzhi asked gravely, “What was the price?”
For Song Linjia to return from being a porcelain person, she must have paid a heavy price.
Had she become an infected being too?
Lu Zhaohui and Zhao Yingzhi instinctively took a step back.
Just then, Li Ran spoke—his words eased their anxiety.
“She’s not infected.”
Li Ran had seen her information through his golden finger ability.
(She is a player, but she can never leave this place.)
But that line left Li Ran puzzled.
On second thought, Song Linjia must’ve made a huge decision to choose to go to the clinic in the west just to survive.
He asked himself—if he became a porcelain person, would he still have the courage to keep living?
When they realized Song Linjia had made some kind of deal with the clinic, they all subconsciously thought she had ended up like Chen Jiabin—a monster. But she wasn't infected. The price, however, was that she could never leave.
That meant she was trapped in this strange world forever.
"Let’s not talk about that," Song Linjia said, clearly not wanting to dwell on the clinic. She pulled out a silver box and told the three of them, "This will let you sleep for ten hours."
"What is it?" Lu Zhaohui asked, puzzled.
"Anesthetic?" Zhao Yingzhi guessed.
"Mm," Song Linjia nodded. Then she explained, “The Midnight Virus can’t infect people who are asleep. This high-dose anesthetic will at least give you ten hours of protection. That’s all I can do to help.”
"Five hours from the lamp bearer, five from the darkness item, and ten from the anesthetic. That gives us twenty hours of safety. We just need to endure for one hour, enter the Boundary Gate, and we’ll be safe!" Zhao Yingzhi said.
Song Linjia’s timely arrival was like a blessing in a storm, a glimpse of land across an endless dark sea—hope for survival.
They had to make sure nothing went wrong in the coming days, while also doing everything they could to grow stronger.
Looking at Song Linjia’s bright, cheerful smile, Li Ran felt conflicted. He asked, "But what about you?"
That’s when Lu Zhaohui and Zhao Yingzhi finally caught what she had said earlier—she was helping them. But what about herself?
“From today onward, you can call me Nurse Song. If you get hurt or sick, you can come to the Lan Doctor Clinic in the west to find me. I’ll take care of you.”
Song Linjia wore a faint smile, acting like it was nothing at all.
But that only made the three of them feel worse inside.
Song Linjia had returned, but it also felt like she had left them for good.
Because she could never reach the end.
She smiled lightly. “Today’s my first day at work. Wish me luck. Wish me all the best.”
The three of them had a flood of mixed feelings. Even though Song Linjia was alive, it somehow felt worse than when she had vanished.
“Okay. Work hard.”
Li Ran didn’t know what else to say. After a long pause, this awkward line came out—not sure if it was comfort or farewell.
With one hand behind her back, Song Linjia walked away from the pavilion with light, playful steps. She turned and waved goodbye to them. “Goodbye, my friends.”
“Good… goodbye,” they replied, their voices choked with emotion.
…
…
After Song Linjia left, the trio’s mood was heavy beyond words.
Li Ran and Zhao Yingzhi both saw the bitterness and helplessness in each other’s expressions.
“No time for sadness. We need to get the lamp bearer mission done ASAP,” Zhao Yingzhi quickly snapped back into focus.
Li Ran nodded and @-mentioned everyone in the Feihu neighborhood group.
Soon, someone replied to Li Ran.
“Unit 904 in Building 5 needs a lamp bearer.”
“Unit 302 in Building 7 needs one too.”
After reading the replies, they made up their minds.
“Let’s split up. I’ll go to Building 7,” Zhao Yingzhi said firmly.
“Okay.”
Right now, Zhao Yingzhi had a eerie power level of 1200, and she already has an active mission.
Lu Zhaohui’s ghost power was only 350, and he had no ongoing missions.
Clearly, Zhao Yingzhi was more than capable of handling missions on her own.
Li Ran figured Zhao Yingzhi wanted to act alone to hide the other soul inside her body. She didn’t want anyone finding out.
And he had no intention of exposing her—he liked working solo too.
So, that left him with Building 5.
“I’ll go home and help with the dragon lantern prep,” Lu Zhaohui said.
The trio now had clear goals.
Only by becoming a lamp bearer could they ensure their safety during the Night of Madness.
Li Ran headed to Building 5.
“Unit 904’s rental info?”
At the elevator, Li Ran noticed a rental flyer—it was for the exact unit he was heading to.
“Looking for a roommate. Currently two girls living here, combined age is 50. Seeking a male roommate. Rent negotiable. Contact info…”
Two girls looking for a male roommate and even offering reduced rent?
Li Ran was surprised. Sounded too good to be true.
The next moment, he read the fine print and froze.
(A 48-year-old divorced woman with a 2-year-old daughter.)
He was almost fooled by the clever wording. This was straight-up wordplay!
“I knew it. No way I’d get that lucky,” Li Ran muttered.
He pressed the elevator button with a wry smile.
When he arrived on the ninth floor, he rang the doorbell.
After a moment, with a strange and pleasant scent in the air, the door opened slowly. A beautiful girl stood there, wearing a swimsuit-style T-shirt top and denim shorts. Her outfit and her long, fair legs caught Li Ran’s attention instantly.
Then, in the bedroom directly across from the door, he spotted another pair of slender, pale legs lying on the bed—soft, fair, with a slight baby fat glow. The flawless skin made him wonder just what kind of stunning beauty those legs belonged to.
But something felt off. Li Ran stepped back, double-checked the door number. Yep—still 904.
The girl in front of him looked no older than 25 or 26. And that girl in the room definitely wasn’t a two-year-old toddler.
Did he go to the wrong place?
(End of Chapter)