"Xiaojuan, I've arranged a restroom for the little girl with the hospital staff. Could you stay with her tonight?" Chao Musheng noticed the girl was still staring blankly at the gift Su Chenzhu had given her and smiled. "Put the money away safely. If you’ve handed your bank card to me, how will you manage when you need to spend?"
Zeng Ning whispered her thanks.
"No need to be polite. A young girl like you shouldn’t stay up late—go get some rest." Chao Musheng reassured her, "By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, a professional caregiver will be here."
"Goodnight, Uncle Chao, Uncle Su." Zeng Ning stood up and paused at the door. "Uncle Chao, my name is Zeng Ning. Thank you for believing in me."
"Goodnight, Xiao Ning."
Chao Musheng waved at her. Only after the door closed did he turn to Su Chenzhu with slight embarrassment. "Mr. Su, please don’t take the little girl’s words to heart."
"She’s sweet and well-mannered. Ms. Zeng has raised her well." Su Chenzhu turned to tidy the bed. "You should sleep too. Don’t stay up late."
Chao Musheng couldn’t see his expression, but he felt Su Chenzhu wouldn’t mind a child’s words.
The players lingered in the hallway, unwilling to leave. After waiting for over half an hour, they perked up when the door to Room 4 finally opened.
In-game emergencies like this often tied into crucial plot points.
Unfortunately, before they could approach the girl, hospital staff arrived and escorted her away with Xiaojuan.
"She’s always the lucky one," grumbled one player, frustrated at gaining no useful information after such a long wait.
"If you can’t handle it, stab yourself—though that won’t turn you into a woman either." You Jiu sneered. "If you’re jealous, suck it up. Everyone’s playing by the same rules. Stop whining."
"What’s it to you if I talk about her? You call her 'Sis Juan,' but does she even acknowledge you?"
"What’s it to her if I talk about you?" You Jiu smirked. "You keep bringing her up—do you want to be her dog? Too bad she wouldn’t want you."
"You—!" The player’s face twisted with anger, but remembering You Jiu’s reputation, he swallowed his rage and stormed back to the break room.
Another player stepped in with a conciliatory smile. "Sorry, he’s just upset after dealing with a difficult patient earlier. Don’t take it personally."
You Jiu scoffed and, instead of returning to the janitor’s lounge, headed toward Room 7.
The elderly woman in Room 7 was a light sleeper. Her children were abroad, and he wondered if she was still awake.
Peering inside, he saw no sign of the caregiver. The old woman sat on the sofa, sipping something.
"Ms. Wu, the doctor said you shouldn’t eat randomly at night." He knocked twice before entering.
"I couldn’t sleep, so I asked the caregiver to make me some bird’s nest soup." Ms. Wu’s silver hair was impeccably neat, even in the middle of the night. She set down her spoon. "Xiao You, perfect timing—there’s another bowl in the pot. Have some."
The VIP room had a small kitchenette with an induction stove. You Jiu glanced over and spotted two caregivers eating bird’s nest soup inside.
As a player, he knew better than to accept food from NPCs. But Ms. Wu’s gaze reminded him of his grandmother.
The soup was smooth and delicate. The moment it touched his tongue, the system chimed.
[Ding! Player has consumed Nutritious Bird’s Nest Soup. HP +2.]
"Not to your taste?" Ms. Wu asked, noticing his pause. "Or are you just tired?"
"It’s delicious." You Jiu finished the bowl in silence. "Thank you, Ms. Wu."
"Don’t mention it. Rest early after this." She smiled kindly. "If the supervisor asks, just say you were cleaning my room."
After tidying up and helping Ms. Wu back to bed, You Jiu finally left Room 7.
How many dungeons had he cleared since entering the Main God’s space? He’d lost count.
Early on, he’d accidentally eaten NPC-offered food and suffered dearly for it. Since then, he’d never trusted any native in the dungeons—no matter how pitiable they seemed, their goal was always the player’s failure.
Gaining HP in dungeons was nearly impossible unless you secured special consumables beforehand.
NPCs wanted players dead; players needed to trample NPCs to clear the stage. Their conflict was inherent.
Only a rare few players ever earned a dungeon native’s protection or favor.
He’d once met a player with a "Harem Protagonist" aura—every ghost and boss in his dungeons would obsessively dote on him.
Yet even that player had died in a dungeon not long ago.
After so many clears, this hospital dungeon was the first where NPCs showed players genuine kindness.
Ms. Wu had poor eyesight, and he had merely read her a couple of articles while cleaning—yet that small act earned him unexpected kindness.
Just like the thank-you letter he’d stumbled upon before, things other players had to fight tooth and nail for in other dungeons were handed to him here without a second thought.
But was the System’s fiftyfold reward really so easy to claim?
At five in the morning, the players’ shift ended. They were housed in the hospital’s staff dormitory, where two bunk beds with metal frames stood.
"Director, where is Xiao Juan staying?" one player asked, noticing only four beds in the room.
"Our hospital strictly separates male and female staff. Xiao Juan is a girl—how could she possibly room with you?" The director narrowed his eyes. This was the same guy who’d talked back to him last time. "Focus on your work and stop entertaining ridiculous ideas."
The shameless bastard actually wanted to room with a girl? Might as well wish for the moon.
The questioning player: "..."
In the last hospital dungeon he’d cleared, players of all genders had been crammed into one room, and not a single NPC had batted an eye.
This dungeon was different in every way. Work hours stretched endlessly, and no schedule could curb the higher-ups’ obsession with overtime. Yet in areas where no explicit rules were given, the dungeon suddenly became oddly particular.
"Director, that’s not what he meant," another player stepped in to smooth things over. "We came in with Xiao Juan, so we’re just concerned about where she’s staying."
"Oh." The director nodded. "That makes sense. I was wondering what kind of idiot would ask something like that."
Player: "..."
Sometimes, he really wanted to stab this gaslighting, micromanaging tyrant.
"She’s been assigned to the ninth-floor nurse’s lounge next door. No need to worry about her safety."
The ninth-floor lounge was far more comfortable than this shabby staff dorm.
Hearing this, the player regretted asking at all.
The director, however, was displeased. He’d answered kindly—wasn’t it basic courtesy for the newbies to thank him?
He didn’t keep ungrateful people under his command.
After the director left, the four players lay in bed, occasionally catching faint sobs from outside the window.
The cries were eerie, but they didn’t inspire fear—they knew it was just grieving family members of patients.
"Annoying as hell." A player got up to yank the curtains shut, rattling the metal bed frame.
"If you don’t want to hear it, plug your ears."
You Jiu opened his eyes, surprised that Qi Shi had spoken.
In his memory, Qi Shi was a quiet player who never involved himself in others’ affairs.
The other two players were equally taken aback. The dormitory fell completely silent.
Zeng Ning, worried about her unconscious mother, slept lightly and woke early.
When she arrived at Ward No. 2, two unfamiliar caregivers were already inside, listening intently to the doctor’s instructions.
Her father stood by the sofa, visibly unhappy but too cowed to protest.
"Little President Zeng." The caregivers noticed her and introduced themselves. "We were assigned by President Su. Please let us know if you need anything."
Little President Zeng?
Zeng Ning’s eyes widened. No one had ever called her that before.
Her face flushed as she carefully touched her mother’s fingers. "Thank you, but I’m not any ‘Little President.’"
"President Su mentioned you’re President Zeng’s successor, so the title fits." The caregivers handed her their resumes. "Please review our qualifications."
Zeng Ning scanned the densely packed credentials and immediately recognized their expertise.
Being treated with such gravity left her flustered—but also filled her with an unfamiliar resolve.
Yes, she was her mother’s successor. She would protect her.
Her father watched silently, spinning his cup in endless circles.
He couldn’t fathom why someone as lofty as Su Chenzhu would stoop to meddle in their family affairs.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped outside—only to freeze at the sight of uniformed officers approaching.
They passed him and stopped outside Ward No. 8. Regaining his composure, he sidled up to the onlookers gossiping about the patient inside.
Turns out, Ward No. 8 housed the second young master of the Chen family.
News of Old Master Chen’s arrest had already spread like wildfire, though few dared discuss it openly given the family’s influence.
Compared to the untouchable Chens, the Song family’s misfortunes were far more entertaining to the crowd.
Whether in real life or online, everyone is applauding Song Cheng's downfall. Forceful domination might suit scumbag fictional characters, but anyone daring to pull such stunts in reality deserves the prison tears they get.
Chen Fang isn't in great mental shape. The police didn’t talk to him for long before a doctor came to remind them that the patient needed rest.
The team leader cooperated immediately, closing his notebook and saying to Chen Fang, "Mr. Chen, please rest well. We’ll come back to check on you this afternoon."
The Chen family patriarch is implicated in multiple homicide and assault cases, leaving their third investigative team—much like their colleagues handling the Moonlit case next door—too busy to even take a sip of water.
After the police left, a few colleagues from Kunlun who were close to Chao Musheng came to visit upon hearing he was ill.
However, when they realized the person guarding the hospital room was their boss, they stayed less than five minutes before slinking away.
Sneaking out during lunch break on a Monday to visit a coworker, only to be caught red-handed by the boss—this is the stuff of nightmares for every office worker.
By 3 p.m., it was time for the players to clock in, but to avoid nitpicking from the supervisor, they unanimously arrived half an hour early.
"Hmm." The supervisor checked the time and nodded in approval. "Finally looking like proper employees. There’ll be quite a few visitors today, so keep the corridors spotless. Let them see our hospital’s professionalism and warmth."
The players: "..."
They were just janitors. This responsibility was way above their pay grade.
You Jiu’s gaze drifted past the supervisor’s shoulder, landing on a man who vaguely resembled the "charismatic player" type, walking toward Ward No. 4.
The resemblance was there, but not quite.
The real "charismatic player" wasn’t this tanned, this burly, or this heavy-footed.
While You Jiu was still squinting in scrutiny, Xiao Juan had already pulled his mask higher and dutifully started scrubbing the grout between the floor tiles.
"Look at Xiao Juan—eyes sharp, hands diligent." The supervisor was thoroughly impressed. "You should all learn from a colleague like him."
Xiao Juan?
Wan You paused mid-step at the faintly familiar name.
