"Doctor, don't scare me," Fatty said with a bitter face, trembling. "Don't let my size fool you. It's all just superficial bulk. I scare easily."

Jiang Cheng glanced at him, and, perhaps thinking about how delicious Fatty's cooking was, he let him off the hook and didn't say anything more.

Ever since being with Jiang Cheng, Fatty had become much bolder. After a short while, he was bouncing around again. "Doctor," Fatty licked his lips and asked softly, "Do you think we'll enter a nightmare again after we fall asleep tonight?"

The nightmares were filled with danger at every turn, and the bizarre yet extremely real feeling sent chills down one's spine.

Jiang Cheng, who was busy hanging up wet clothes, stopped what he was doing. After thinking for a few seconds, he replied, "Probably not. Although our physical strength can be fully restored after escaping from the last nightmare, the mental energy we expend cannot be recovered."

Fatty understood what Jiang Cheng meant. He meant that the energy expended in the nightmares could not be recovered like physical strength. If this continued, they would become increasingly exhausted and eventually be consumed by the nightmares.

From Fan Li and Sister Nuan, they learned that although nightmares were terrifying, they often left a glimmer of hope, which clearly contradicted the rules of the nightmares.

"That's good," Fatty breathed a long sigh of relief, then said, "I was wondering if I should just try to stay awake all night tonight."

"Pointless," Jiang Cheng shook his head. "You can only last a few nights at most. When you can't hold on anymore and fall asleep, you'll die in the nightmare."

The word "die" instinctively made Fatty's back feel cold. He quickly explained that he was just complaining and wouldn't actually do that.

"Want some coffee?" Jiang Cheng wiped his hands dry and walked towards the kitchen, asking as he passed Fatty.

Fatty was a little flattered. "Then thank you, Doctor."

The sound of clinking and clanging came from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng reached out and took two cups from the rack. "Americano, espresso, latte, or cappuccino?"

Fatty said a little awkwardly, "Doctor, I don't really know much about coffee. I usually drink the instant coffee that costs 1 yuan per packet at the supermarket. Why don't you make me a cappuccino?"

"Sorry," Jiang Cheng said, "we're out of cappuccino."

"Then a latte, please."

"We're out of latte too."

"Americano?"

"No."

"Then espresso will be fine," Fatty said, shrinking his neck. "Thank you for your trouble, Doctor."

"No trouble at all," Jiang Cheng replied loudly, "because we're out of espresso too."

Fatty was stunned. "No Americano, espresso, latte, or cappuccino? What do you have then?"

"Instant," Jiang Cheng walked out of the kitchen with two coffee cups. "But I have to correct you, the retail price of each packet is now 1.5 yuan, not 1 yuan anymore. It's gone up."

"If you only have instant coffee, what are you giving me a choice for?" Fatty said excitedly.

Jiang Cheng sat down opposite Fatty, picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, and said slowly, "Because life needs a sense of ritual."

Fatty felt that there was no point in arguing with Jiang Cheng. To avoid being drawn in by Jiang Cheng again, he wisely chose to shut up.

"Drink it while it's hot," Jiang Cheng said. "I didn't put too many sleeping pills in this time. Try it and see if it's too salty or too bland, so I'll know how much to put in next time."

Fatty: "......"

As night deepened, the neon lights in the distance gradually lit up. Through a half-open glass window, one could see the dazzling lights of the outside world. Fatty rested his chin in his hand, staring blankly out the window.

Remembering the bits and pieces of the nightmares, he cherished the beauty of the real world even more.

Jiang Cheng slumped in his office chair, watching a horror movie and eating French fries with ketchup. He had called Fatty, but the latter refused to go.

After watching "The Wicked Ghost," Jiang Cheng almost fell asleep.

Opening his eyes, he saw Fatty huddled on the sofa, covering his ears, looking very uncomfortable.

Realizing that Jiang Cheng was awake, Fatty let go of his hands and shouted as if he had seen a savior, "Doctor, what movie are you watching? That ghost is too scary."

After listening to Fatty's explanation, Jiang Cheng understood that Fatty had heard a very strange singing voice, and then wanted to go over and turn off the movie, but happened to catch Chu Renmei's appearance.

"The ghost you're talking about is called Chu Renmei," Jiang Cheng explained. "She was a miserable woman in feudal society, and also the prototype of La Dame aux Camélias in Mr. Lu Xun's writings."

Fatty automatically blocked out what Jiang Cheng was saying.

He turned off the computer, and the two of them went upstairs to sleep.

Fatty said it was a little cold last night, so Jiang Cheng found him a new quilt. Fatty seized the last chance to talk to Jiang Cheng before he went into the bedroom, telling him that if he was afraid after watching the horror movie, he could stay with him.

Before he could finish speaking, the bedroom door slammed shut, followed by the sound of it being locked.

Fatty smacked his lips and lay down unwillingly. Jiang Cheng had reminded him before that it was best to wear clothes and shoes before going to bed.

So Fatty took advantage of the good weather today to wash his shoes, and took advantage of the opportunity to go out to buy groceries to buy himself a new pair of sneakers, which he was now wearing.

The studio was located in a relatively remote area, and it was very quiet at night.

Jiang Cheng habitually pulled the quilt to his chin, breathing steadily and evenly.

His physique was very different from ordinary people. He was not so sensitive to hot and cold, rarely got sick, and his pain nerves were also relatively dull.

Sometimes he even felt like he was an emotionless tool.

He fell asleep groggily.

He slept very soundly.

A strange melody echoed in his ears.

Not classical, not pop, not jazz, the melody of this piece was different from any genre he knew.

This sound seemed to be born in darkness.

Born in darkness, and returning to darkness.

Jiang Cheng felt that everything was leaving him, as if he was sinking into the depths of the ocean, or walking into a tunnel with no end.

Despair, only despair, and nothing else... Sudan Novels

A crisp cracking sound rang out, like a piece of pure black cloth being torn apart by brute force. Jiang Cheng suddenly woke up.

He found himself standing at the corner of the first floor of the studio, with a black iron door standing in front of him.

His body acted before his brain could give instructions. He reached out and pushed open the door in front of him.

After a strange sense of dizziness, his feet seemed to find a support point again, stepping on solid ground.

Before him was a building similar to a school, not large in scale, and he could see the edges at a glance.

Several buildings stood quietly in the afterglow of the setting sun, casting deep gray shadows, with a somewhat romantic atmosphere.

He squinted at the setting sun, judging that the current time in this world was around 4 or 5 pm.

He didn't see anyone else nearby for the time being, and the school gate was already closed.

He shielded his eyes from the glaring sunlight, stared at the school for a few moments, then decisively turned around and walked in the opposite direction.