The arrival of the police threw the Chen family into chaos.
As one of the capital’s top taxpayers, the Chen family had long been held in high esteem. Now, with the sudden order for their arrest, Old Master Chen was the first to struggle with the shock.
Was this the backlash from the failed ritual, or had Chao Musheng’s forced entry into the wooden tower disrupted the Chen estate’s feng shui?
Given his advanced age and the gravity of the case, the police only handcuffed him, sparing the ankle restraints.
Once inside the police car, he spotted Mr. Xuan, who had also been apprehended. The man had likely been arrested in his bedroom—his hair and beard disheveled, his pajama buttons crooked, and only one sock on his foot—a far cry from his usual enigmatic, revered demeanor.
Noticing Old Master Chen’s gaze, Mr. Xuan turned his head toward the window, refusing to meet his eyes.
Had he known the Chen family would collapse so easily, he would have found another wealthy household to swindle.
With Old Master Chen and Mr. Xuan, the masterminds, taken away, the other involved members of the Chen estate were also brought to the station for questioning.
The handcuffed butler trudged toward a police car, only to notice that Little He wasn’t being detained. Instead, the young man was whispering with several officers. Unable to resist, the butler stared a moment too long.
The intensity of his gaze was impossible to ignore. Little He turned and, seeing the butler’s glare, casually pulled a police cap from the car and placed it on his head.
Apologies—he was, in fact, a proud officer of the law.
The butler’s eyes widened in disbelief. So the abusive father, the timid mother, and the rebellious younger brother had all been part of the act.
This kid was an undercover cop!
“What are you showing off for?” The Team Leader smacked Little He on the back. “If it weren’t for Mr. Chao buying you time and diverting the Chen family’s attention, you’d have been exposed long ago.”
He led Little He over to Chao Musheng, only to notice the man’s flushed face—clearly unwell. Swallowing his words of gratitude, he asked instead, “Mr. Chao, are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” Chao Musheng felt perfectly normal—no dizziness, no discomfort, just a slightly elevated body temperature.
“Let me call an ambulance—”
“No need.” Chao Musheng smiled at Little He and the Team Leader. “It’s just a mild fever. No point wasting medical resources.”
Glancing at the other officers bustling about, he added, “You all have work to do. Besides, I have friends here with me.”
“Please rest well, Mr. Chao. We’ll visit another day to properly thank you.” The Team Leader noticed the worry on Su Chenzhu’s face and decided now wasn’t the time for lengthy conversation. After expressing their gratitude once more, he and Little He hurried back to handle the scene.
A long line of police cars blocked the road, preventing Su Chenzhu’s vehicle from pulling up. He reached out to steady Chao Musheng by the arm, careful not to grip too tightly yet unwilling to loosen his hold.
Seeing Su Chenzhu’s tense expression, Chao Musheng couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Su, really, I’m fine.”
Su Chenzhu stared at him, lips pressed thin, then raised a hand to feel his forehead again. “You’re hot enough to fry an egg, and you call this ‘fine’?”
“I feel perfectly alert.” Chao Musheng exhaled through his nose. “If it were winter, I’d be quite cozy.”
Secretary Liu silently took a step back.
Xiao Chao, just stop talking. Can’t you see the boss’s heartache practically radiating off him?
Unfortunately, Chao Musheng not only kept talking but seemed more talkative than usual.
“During my freshman year finals, I had a 39-degree fever. I slept it off after the last exam and was fine the next day.” He grinned. “So, Mr. Su, there’s no need to worry.”
“Mm.” Su Chenzhu hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t let go of his arm.
“Mr. Su.” A bodyguard rushed over, handing him a thermometer.
Su Chenzhu aimed it at Chao Musheng’s forehead. “38.4 degrees.”
“Below 38.5 counts as a low-grade fever.” Chao Musheng walked to the roadside, pausing to watch the flashing police lights.
Su Chenzhu followed his gaze. “What are you looking at?”
“Human nature.”
Su Chenzhu studied him. “Disappointed to see people sacrifice even their own flesh and blood for their desires?”
“Yes and no.” Chao Musheng shook his head slowly. “I saw someone who, to save a loved one, gave up the choice that would have benefited her the most.”
Chen Yue wasn’t implicated in the case, but as someone privy to the Chen family’s secrets, she still had to accompany the police for questioning.
Before getting into the car, she glanced back and spotted Chao Musheng standing by the road.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Was that meant for you?” Secretary Liu caught the silent words.
“She’s one of the few decent people in the Chen family. Frankly, letting Chen Fang become the sacrificial offering and then stoking the conflict between Chen You and Old Master Chen after his death would have served her interests better.” For once, Secretary Liu spoke favorably of a Chen family member. “Now, with Old Master Chen and the eldest and second sons implicated, who knows which of the grandchildren will inherit the family fortune?”
“Old Master Chen still has a daughter. It’s too early to call the winner.” Chao Musheng sniffed, his nasal passages burning. “Let’s go back.”
The Chen family’s assets were their own problem. Right now, all he wanted was medicine and sleep.
“Careful.” Su Chenzhu tightened his grip, one hand on Chao Musheng’s arm, the other clasping his wrist. “There are steps ahead.”
“Mr. Su, your hands are so cold.” Chao Musheng covered Su Chenzhu’s hand with his own, rubbing lightly. “Suddenly, I feel like eating ice cream.”
Su Chenzhu’s ears turned red instantly. “After you recover.”
“Mm.” Chao Musheng’s eyelids drooped. The earlier liveliness faded as exhaustion overtook him. He yawned and quickened his pace.
Miss Chen waited in her wheelchair outside the guesthouse. Seeing Su Chenzhu’s group return, she spoke up. “Mr. Su, my apologies for the poor hospitality.”
Her gaze shifted to Chao Musheng, who was now half-leaning against Su Chenzhu, barely keeping his eyes open. “I heard Mr. Chao isn’t feeling well. I’ve called the family doctor to examine him.”
“No need. My doctor is on the way.” Su Chenzhu steadied Chao Musheng by the waist. “Chao Chao, watch your step—threshold.”
Chao Musheng forced his eyes open and smiled at the woman in the wheelchair. “Auntie Chen.”
“Hello.” Miss Chen noted Su Chenzhu’s distrust of the Chen family’s physician and didn’t press the matter, allowing the attendants to wheel her back inside.
Kunlun’s medical team arrived swiftly and administered fever-reducing treatment.
“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Su Chenzhu wiped Chao Musheng’s palms with a warm towel.
“Mr. Su, Mr. Chao has already taken medication. We can monitor him overnight.” The doctor removed his gloves. “Even a private hospital room wouldn’t be as comfortable as resting at home.”
“But his fever hasn’t broken yet.” Su Chenzhu switched to the other hand.
“Sir, it’s only been twenty minutes since he took the medicine.” The doctor smiled patiently. “I understand your concern, but this type of antipyretic typically takes effect within thirty minutes, peaking in one to three hours.”
"If Mr. Chao still has recurring high fever by tomorrow morning, you can take him to the hospital then."
"Thank you for your hard work." Su Chenzhu watched as Chao Musheng slept soundly and gently placed a cooling patch on his forehead. "There’s a rest area prepared for you next door. Please make do for tonight."
"Of course. Rest assured, Mr. Su, we’ll have someone on duty in the room." The medical staff remained calm—after all, anyone would stay composed after receiving a generous bonus from their employer for overtime work.
The on-duty staff noticed Su Chenzhu sitting by the patient’s bedside, showing no intention of leaving, and wisely kept their distance, quietly settling into a corner.
Su Chenzhu reached out and lightly brushed aside the strands of hair sticking to Chao Musheng’s forehead. A faint surge of energy emanated from his fingertips, silently flowing into Chao Musheng’s body.
Chao Musheng stood behind a door, beyond which lurked all manner of grotesque creatures—some with countless eyes, others with claws sprouting from their wings. They howled and twisted, their blood-red eyes brimming with hatred.
"Let us in!" A monster with a human face and an octopus body lunged at the door, trying to force its way inside. It bared its fangs and snapped at Chao Musheng, only to be kicked away.
"Get lost!" Chao Musheng shoved the creature back and drove away the others crowding the doorway. "You too, scram!"
He felt an inexplicable surge of strength, effortlessly kicking aside the smaller monsters one by one.
After clearing them out, he turned and spotted a familiar spherical creature clinging to the window—the same ugly, virus-like thing from before.
"Dealt with them but forgot about you, huh?" Chao Musheng leaped onto the windowsill, grabbed the virus ball’s tentacles, and delivered several solid punches.
Enraged, the virus ball’s tentacles suddenly multiplied, lashing out at Chao Musheng’s throat.
"Ha!" Chao Musheng dodged sideways, catching all the tentacles in his grip.
The slimy, squishy texture was revolting. With one hand gripping the tentacles, he used the other to slap the virus ball’s head repeatedly.
Thud.
After a few strikes, a miniature mountain model fell from the virus ball’s body.
The moment it dropped, the creature let out a shrill, infant-like wail—piercing and earsplitting. Chao Musheng’s ears rang from the noise.
"Shut up!" Unable to bear the sound, he slapped even harder.
Thud, thud…
More tiny objects tumbled from the virus ball—miniature houses, cars, airplanes, even amusement parks and cinemas.
The creature writhed in pain, while Chao Musheng’s ears ached from its screams.
Finally, the virus ball couldn’t take it anymore. It bit off the tentacle Chao Musheng was holding and fled through the window.
"Disgusting." Chao Musheng stared at the writhing tentacle in his hand, then tossed it into a nearby furnace.
As it burned, a foul stench filled the air, making him cough violently.
Cough, cough…
Chao Musheng woke up coughing, his throat burning as if scorched by fire.
"Drink some water first." A straw was pressed to his lips. He took a sip instinctively before realizing it was Su Chenzhu holding the cup. The man was still wearing last night’s clothes, his sleeves slightly wrinkled.
Yet even disheveled, he exuded an air of refined elegance.
"Mr. Su…" Chao Musheng tried to sit up but found his body weak and sore, worse than after running a 3,000-meter race.
"Your fever spiked to 39.8°C. We need to get you to the hospital." After helping him drink, Su Chenzhu set the cup aside, supported him upright, and draped a coat over his shoulders. "The car’s outside. Let’s go."
"Okay." Chao Musheng nodded obediently.
"Wait." Su Chenzhu bent down to slip a pair of soft-soled shoes onto his feet. "Sick people shouldn’t go barefoot."
As he leaned over, Chao Musheng caught a glimpse of his fair, slender neck, the faint blue veins subtly visible at the base.
"Feeling awful?" Noticing his dazed expression, Su Chenzhu helped him up, speaking in a soothing tone. "Once we see the doctor, you’ll feel better soon."
He regretted not taking Chao Musheng to the hospital last night.
"Not too bad," Chao Musheng mumbled. "Just a little weak."
Su Chenzhu knelt in front of him. "Hop on. I’ll carry you to the car."
"Mr. Su…" Chao Musheng stared blankly at the man crouched before him.
"Come on." Su Chenzhu glanced back, his voice gentle. "Special privileges for the sick."
Chao Musheng wanted to protest that he could still walk, but under Su Chenzhu’s tender yet insistent gaze, he could only bury his face in his hands and climb onto his back.
It’s fine. As long as no one sees, it’s not embarrassing.
Su Chenzhu was several years older—already an adult when Chao Musheng was still in elementary school.
Rounding it off, it’s just an older brother carrying a kid. No big deal.
Secretary Liu had just secured the inkblot creature in a pet carrier when he spotted his boss carrying Chao Musheng outside. The younger man had pulled his coat hood over his head, clearly embarrassed. Secretary Liu tactfully carried the inkblot out of the courtyard.
He signaled the bodyguards to keep quiet.
Surrounded by Su Chenzhu’s soothing herbal scent and the absence of other voices, Chao Musheng gradually relaxed. Fortunately, the walk from the main building to the car was short. Once inside, he whispered, "Thank you, Mr. Su. I can walk by myself at the hospital."
"Understood." Su Chenzhu noted his flushed face. "Lean on me and rest. We’ll be there soon."
"Okay." Too exhausted to argue, Chao Musheng rested his head on Su Chenzhu’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
Mr. Su is so kind—just as considerate as my dorm leader.
The only difference was that when his dorm leader had carried him last time, he nearly dropped him. Su Chenzhu, on the other hand, held him steady without the slightest jolt.
Once school starts again, I’ll remind my dorm leader to work on his stamina. Young guys shouldn’t be so weak.
"You Jiu, your luck’s terrible," an ally from the same player alliance remarked as You Jiu emerged safely from the game instance. "Your dungeon collapsed. I thought you wouldn’t make it out."
"If I didn’t have a forced escape item, I really wouldn’t have." You Jiu looked up at the player screen hall. At that moment, the screens abruptly went black, and the floating light orbs overhead flickered erratically.
The crowd erupted into chaos.
Bang!
Several orbs exploded. The screens flashed before restoring, and the shattered fragments vanished as if the disturbance had never happened.
"Another batch of instances was forcibly shut down," the ally muttered, staring at the screen. "Nearly 30 this time."
Many players noticed the anomaly, sparking rampant speculation. Amid the crowd, You Jiu spotted Xiaojuan and the seemingly dim-witted hulk.
Do they also have a forced dungeon exit item? Otherwise, how did they leave the dungeon?
No, a forced exit item is like an extra life when failing a dungeon. Such items are both rare and precious—it’s impossible that so many players have them.
[Ding! A new exploration dungeon has been released. Maximum capacity: 5 players. This dungeon’s rewards have been increased fiftyfold. Players ranked within the top 200 may sign up. If the quota isn’t filled within three days, players will be randomly selected from the top 200 to enter the dungeon.]
Fifty times?!
The player community erupted in shock. Both points and items multiplied fiftyfold?
Where did the System strike gold to be so generous to players?
Within just half an hour, the player forum had already racked up hundreds of posts, with most ordinary players expressing envy toward the high-ranking players eligible for the dungeon.
[There’s no such thing as a free lunch. With rewards this high, be careful you don’t enter alive only to leave dead.]
[Look in the mirror, sourpuss. Don’t scare yourself with your own ugliness.]
[None of the recent exploration dungeons have been cleared successfully. Top 200 players, think carefully.]
The top players were indeed cautious. Several hours after the dungeon’s announcement, no one had voluntarily signed up.
"Xiaojuan." Brother Wu, Xiao Liu, Brother Hu, and the others tried to persuade her, hoping she’d take a break.
"This dungeon’s rewards are too high—there must be a catch." Brother Wu glanced at the newly recruited Brother Hu. "How about I go in your place?"
"No. You have a good reputation among players. Rallying them still requires your efforts." Xiaojuan clicked the sign-up button. "Besides, out of all of us, I’m the most suited for this dungeon."
Five minutes after she signed up, all five slots were filled.
It seemed the fiftyfold reward was too tempting for players to resist.
Was it her imagination, or did the System’s dungeon announcement carry a hint of seething anger?
Recently, the System had shut down multiple dungeons—first three or five, then seven or eight, and now as many as thirty at once.
[Ding, the dungeon roster is complete. The dungeon will commence in thirty minutes. Players, please prepare.]
It starts as soon as the slots are filled?!
Xiaojuan opened the new dungeon’s introduction.
The hospital is a revolving door of life and death. Here, what do you see—life or death? When night falls, who walks the halls—the living or the dead?
Come, listen to the wails of the departed.
Go, for this world keeps no useless souls.
You—do you choose life or death?
Making players choose between life and death?
Xiaojuan had a bad feeling. Was the damn System trying to pit players against NPCs in a life-or-death game of mutual destruction?
[The dungeon will begin shortly. Countdown starts now: ten, nine…]
[Players have entered the dungeon. HP reduced by 20. Your identity: hospital janitor. Keeping the hospital clean and sanitary is your duty. Patient complaints are your greatest fear.]
[Today’s task: Obtain a thank-you letter from one patient.]
"You five are the janitors specially assigned to the VIP ward. During your shifts, not a single mistake is allowed."
The middle-aged man speaking was short and stout, his gaze critical. "You’re all new. Your daily shift runs from 3 PM to 5 AM, with a one-hour break from 7 to 8 PM. But if a patient needs you, no matter what you’re doing, you must attend to them immediately."
"Understood?"
"Thank you, Director. We’re grateful for this valuable opportunity. I’ll work hard." Xiaojuan looked at him with admiration.
"Mm." The director nodded approvingly. "Your attitude is commendable. What’s your name?"
"Director, I’m Xiaojuan." She smiled obsequiously.
"Xiaojuan." He flipped through her file. "Starting today, you’ll be responsible for cleaning Rooms 1 to 3."
"Yes, Director." She studied his expression but couldn’t yet discern the world’s authenticity from him alone.
After assigning the other four their respective rooms, the director led them to collect cleaning supplies.
"Oh, one more thing." Once they had their tools, he suddenly added, "Police will be appearing in the VIP ward soon. Don’t ask questions, and never disclose patient information."
"Hospital policy strictly forbids leaking patient details, especially for VIPs—their identities are sensitive." His eyes swept over them. "Jobs aren’t easy to come by. Don’t bring trouble upon yourselves."
"Thank you for the reminder, Director. We’ll remember."
Once he left, You Jiu turned to Xiaojuan with a smile. "What a coincidence, meeting again."
"Quite the coincidence." Xiaojuan pulled on cleaning gloves, eyeing the others still in casual wear. "Aren’t you changing?"
The better the hospital, the stricter its dress code—even janitors had uniforms.
The others, all seasoned players, quickly located the uniform guidelines and changed accordingly.
When the director returned and saw them ready, he nodded in satisfaction. "Good."
At least they weren’t complete idiots who needed hand-holding.
He handed them their ID badges. "Clock in and out daily with these. Missing a punch counts as absenteeism."
"Since you’re prepared, start your shift now." He checked the time—noon, still hours before their official start.
But newcomers ought to be diligent if they wanted favor.
The players recognized the exploitation but played along, obediently following him to the VIP ward.
The polished floors, spotless walls, gleaming windows, smiling doctors and nurses, and neatly arranged greenery all signaled the patients’ elite status.
Qi Shi noted the nearest room was numbered 15—meaning this floor had fifteen VIP rooms. His assignment was Rooms 4 to 6.
The further they went, the more bodyguards stood outside the doors. By Room 6, uniformed police officers were stationed there.
Instead of cleaning immediately, he walked the entire floor first.
At the end of the hall was a nurse station, where a few nurses worked in hushed silence, even handling files with exaggerated care. Opposite it was the doctor’s office, equally quiet.
A buzzer rang at the station, and nurses hurried toward the elevators.
Qi Shi returned to his assigned area, pretending to wipe windows while watching the elevators.
The doors soon opened, revealing a group escorting a young man in a wheelchair, his cheeks flushed.
"Mr. Chao will be in Room 4."
"Mr. Su, Mr. Chao's temperature has exceeded 40 degrees. Intravenous medication is required."
Ward No. 4?
Wasn’t this the ward he was assigned to?
Qi Shi observed the strikingly handsome young man surrounded by a crowd, looking like the kind of patient who wouldn’t be easy to deal with.
"Cough, cough." Chao Musheng slumped weakly in his wheelchair, his palms burning as if on fire. He wished he could hug a block of ice to cool himself down.
He recalled how, just a couple of days ago, he had encountered the eccentric Mr. Xuan, who had been coughing intermittently. Could he have caught whatever Mr. Xuan had?
"Feeling that bad?" Su Chenzhu noticed Chao Musheng's labored breathing and reached out to touch his forehead. "You’re getting even hotter."
"Mr. Su, your hand is so cool—it feels amazing." Chao Musheng pressed his scorching palm over Su Chenzhu’s icy hand, the chill barely tempering the heat. He swayed slightly, his head spinning. "I feel like I’ve turned into the fourth brother from Calabash Brothers."
"Huh?" Su Chenzhu froze under Chao Musheng’s burning grip, not daring to move. "Wh-what fourth brother?"
Even though it was Chao Musheng who was burning up with fever, Su Chenzhu felt his own body grow uncomfortably warm.
"Because the fourth brother is the fire kid."
"Still cracking jokes? Guess you’re not that sick after all." Su Chenzhu let out an exasperated laugh. "The ward is just ahead. Go lie down first."
"I’ve always hated the smell of disinfectant in hospitals." Chao Musheng coughed again before turning to Secretary Liu, who immediately handed him water.
Chao Musheng gulped down several mouthfuls, then nodded politely with a smile at the janitor standing by the window.
Qi Shi hadn’t expected this young master-like patient to acknowledge him with a smile and hurriedly returned the gesture—only to remember he was wearing a mask, rendering his expression invisible.
Could his life-and-death mission be tied to this patient?
"Thanks, Brother Liu." Chao Musheng handed the water back to Secretary Liu. "It’s just a minor illness. No need to be so tense."
Secretary Liu glanced at his boss, whose ears were flushed crimson, and smiled inwardly. Someone here appeared composed, but inside, he was a tangled mess of nerves.
From Ward No. 3 emerged a woman in green janitorial attire, her face hidden beneath a work cap and mask. Chao Musheng turned and met her gaze.
Though only her eyes were visible, he recognized her instantly.
Seriously? You’ve changed jobs again in less than half a day?
