You Jiu froze for a few seconds before remembering that this was the real world, not a simulation.
Having spent too much time in simulations, he often subconsciously followed their rules.
He pulled out his phone and noticed a new "Emergency Call" option in the bottom-left corner of the screen. He distinctly remembered this feature hadn’t been there when he first entered the simulation.
Tapping it, three sets of three-digit numbers appeared.
Which one should he dial?
He didn’t even know this world’s emergency number.
Glancing around, he spotted a public notice on the wall listing emergency contacts and immediately dialed the top number.
The people in the hallway hadn’t yet grasped what was happening—until they saw Xiaojuan kick the knife aside. Only then did they realize someone had attempted an attack in the pediatric ward of the hospital.
Of all places in the hospital, why target the pediatric ward? Clearly, this was an act of senseless violence.
Some furious parents immediately rushed forward, twisting the assailant’s arms, pinning his legs, and one mother even yanked his hair.
For a moment, screams and shouts filled the air, with hair and slippers flying everywhere.
You Jiu stared at the strands of hair now lying at his feet, but before he could speak, he was shoved aside by the enraged crowd.
"Stop hitting him!" Under the surveillance cameras, the medical staff couldn’t remain passive. They stood at the edge of the crowd, shouting, "Everyone, please calm down!"
No one listened, but the staff remained patient, repeating their gentle pleas: "Please make way."
It wasn’t that they weren’t trying—it was just that the crowd’s fury was too overwhelming.
"Help! Call the police, save me!"
In less than two minutes, the assailant was howling for mercy, battered beyond recognition.
But news of the knife-wielding intruder in the pediatric ward had already spread, and more parents flooded in.
If not for the hospital’s quick response, sending security to block curious onlookers from other departments, the pediatric ward would have been packed to the brim.
"Let’s go." Xiaojuan and the other two used all their strength and wits to squeeze through the crowd. The elevators were out of the question, so they took the stairs.
"I believe you now," You Jiu muttered, his mind still replaying the image of the fierce mother tearing out the assailant’s hair. "This is the real world."
Only in the real world would people react in such varied, human ways.
"Only cowards target children," he said, turning to Xiaojuan. "Right, Sis Juan?"
"Not just cowards—idiots," Xiaojuan replied. "He thought he was picking the weakest targets, but forgot that humans become fearless when protecting their kids."
By the time the police arrived, the attacker was beaten so badly even his own parents wouldn’t recognize him.
Faced with the furious crowd, the officers struggled to drag him out. Fortunately, being in a hospital, he could still be treated despite his injuries.
"Everyone, calm down. Killing someone is a crime," the police reminded, though it took another half hour before they could finally leave the ward with the assailant in tow.
"I thought all major hospitals in the country had implemented security checks. How did someone get in with a knife?"
The head of the inpatient department sighed. "We’re still rolling out the system. Our patient volume is high, and many already have metal medical implants. Achieving airport-level security is difficult."
"Director, videos of the attack are already circulating online."
The director’s expression soured further. "Contact PR. We need to manage the public response immediately."
After handling the fallout, he led the police to security to review the surveillance footage.
Luckily, the hospital used Kunlun’s advanced facial-tracking system, which quickly pinpointed the assailant’s movements.
"Wait," an officer said, pausing the footage. "Look at these three. The moment the assailant entered the elevator, they seemed to sense something was off."
The subsequent events confirmed their suspicions.
One distracted the attacker, another subdued him, and the third blocked his path. Together, they prevented him from even drawing his knife.
"Their awareness and courage were remarkable," the officer said, replaying the scene. "Without their intervention, this could’ve been a disaster."
The director broke out in a cold sweat. If not for these three, he and the hospital president would’ve been finished.
News of the attack spread rapidly on social media, sparking heated discussions.
Netizens condemned the assailant while praising the trio.
[The girl who kicked the knife was so cool—smoother than a martial arts movie!]
[Their teamwork was flawless. Do they know each other?]
[My grandpa, a martial arts enthusiast, says the girl’s moves are professionally trained.]
[They deserve a bravery award. Don’t let good people go unappreciated.]
Unaware of their newfound fame, Xiaojuan and the others rested for half an hour before changing into janitor uniforms and returning to work.
After the incident, security on the ninth floor doubled, with extra guards patrolling the halls.
Even Room 7 now had a burly male nurse.
When You Jiu entered, the nurse scrutinized him with sharp eyes.
"You Jiu," Ms. Wu called from her bed, phone in hand. "This video looks just like you."
He leaned in—it was footage of them subduing the attacker.
The angle was awkward, even capturing the moment he was nearly bowled over by the crowd.
[LMAO, the guy’s expression when he almost got knocked over was priceless.]
[The parents went hard. I’d have hit harder.]
[The situation was awful, but the girl getting shoved aside, looking so lost, is low-key hilarious.]
You Jiu chuckled but didn’t confirm it was him.
After cleaning the room, he declined Ms. Wu’s offer of peaches and hurried out—only to bump into Little He exiting Room 8.
Despite the mask, Little He recognized him instantly. After all, they’d once hidden under the same bed.
Now in a police uniform, Little He still carried a trace of youthful awkwardness, but none of the naivety from his days at Chen Manor.
I had long suspected that Little He was an undercover agent from the relevant department, but back then, I was merely puzzled as to why there would be an undercover operative in a supernatural scenario. Now that everything had become clear, meeting Little He again left me with an indescribable sense of melancholy.
Little He glanced at the janitor uniform I was wearing and gave me a friendly nod.
"Little He, keep up," the team leader called from ahead.
"Coming, Leader." Little He hugged his notebook to his chest and jogged to catch up.
You Jiu stared at his retreating figure, standing still for a moment before turning to knock on the door of Ward No. 8.
A caretaker opened the door. The room was quiet, and Second Young Master Chen—usually so arrogant and domineering—lay motionless on the hospital bed, his face deathly pale. He didn’t react even when someone entered.
You Jiu lowered his head and finished cleaning. As he closed the ward door behind him, it suddenly dawned on him: if this was the real world, why would someone sacrifice their own flesh and blood for personal gain?
Perhaps human greed was the same no matter where you went.
Little He followed the team leader into the bureau’s old, rundown car. The heat inside was stifling, and he ended up dozing off against the backseat.
"Leader, there’s been an incident at a hospital in East District—a medical intern jumped off the building."
"A violent attack occurred on the fifth floor of the hospital. Two medical staff were severely injured, and one child died despite resuscitation efforts. Two family members of other young patients are still in critical condition."
"It’s bad—a patient’s daughter tried to drag her father off the ninth floor, but he accidentally pushed her over the edge instead."
Multiple violent incidents in a single day. East District Hospital seemed cursed. From then on, hospital staff frequently went missing, and patients died one after another.
Gradually, the hospital was forgotten by everyone, becoming a desolate no-man’s-land.
Little He jolted awake, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Leader, it’s so hot in here."
"The AC’s broken," the team leader replied without turning around. "Hang in there—we’ll be at the bureau in five minutes."
Little He tugged at his sweat-drenched uniform and checked his phone, only to realize that there really had been a case of an armed assailant breaking into the fifth floor of the hospital.
"Leader, how many casualties were there in the pediatric ward case?" Already overheated, he broke into another cold sweat from shock.
"That case is being handled by the branch office," the team leader said, rolling down the window. "The assailant was beaten pretty badly by bystanders and still hasn’t regained consciousness."
"No bystanders were hurt?"
"He was subdued before he could do anything." The team leader was also suffering from the heat. Who knew when the bureau would finally assign them a new car? This one’s AC had broken down multiple times this year alone.
"That’s a relief."
Little He exhaled quietly. Lately, he’d been having too many ominous dreams—thankfully, dreams were the opposite of reality.
The head of the ninth-floor ward rewatched the trending video three times. The more he looked, the more those three heroic bystanders resembled the three janitorial staff from his floor.
He slapped his thigh in excitement. If it really was them, that would be fantastic news.
Tucking his phone away, the head stepped out of his office and nearly collided with the intern who had taken leave the day before.
"You still have half a day off—why are you back so soon?"
"Good afternoon, Head." The intern looked exhausted but in decent spirits. "I brought my grandmother here for treatment."
When he’d rushed home the previous day, he’d found his grandmother preparing to drink pesticide—she didn’t want to burden her family.
Born in the countryside, he had been raised single-handedly by his grandmother. He’d studied relentlessly to get into medical school, and after years of training, how could he accept her choosing suicide over illness?
The head paused. "What did the tests show?"
"The hepatobiliary department said it might have been a misdiagnosis by the local hospital. They advised hospitalization for observation and treatment." The intern bowed deeply. "Head, thank you."
If the head hadn’t approved his leave, his grandmother would have—
The head pulled out his phone, typed 5432 into the transfer screen, hesitated, then kept 32 for himself and sent 5400 to the intern. "Consider this a loan. Pay me back after your grandmother recovers."
It wasn’t much, but it was his hard-earned savings.
"Trust in our doctors. When you’re on duty, focus on your work—don’t let personal matters distract you."
"Thank you, Head!" The intern bowed again. "I’ll work hard and live up to your expectations!"
After gauging the head’s expression and confirming he wasn’t annoyed, the intern mustered his courage, face flushing. "Head, I brought some homemade dried fruit from the countryside. Could you… pass it on to Mr. Chao for me?"
"Something like this requires personal thanks to show sincerity." The head hesitated. "I’ll take you to him."
Chao Musheng had already finished his IV drip for the day. When the head arrived, he was remotely debugging code for the gaming department.
Mr. Su and Secretary Liu were away at a company meeting, leaving only bodyguards and Chao Musheng himself in the room.
"Mr. Chao." The head was used to putting on an ingratiating smile for the ninth-floor patients. "Sorry to disturb you."
"Head?" Chao Musheng stood to greet him, noticing the young man holding a cloth bag behind the head. "And this is…?"
"Mr. Chao." The intern, face red, thrust the bag forward. "Thank you. This is a small token of gratitude from me and my grandmother."
The head nearly facepalmed. What an idiot—couldn’t even phrase it properly!
He hurried to explain, "Mr. Chao, this is the intern you helped approve leave for yesterday. He brought his grandmother back for hospitalization today, and her condition is much better than expected. He wanted to thank you."
"Yeah."
The intern stared at Chao Musheng’s handsome face and those elegant hands, flustered to the point of clumsiness. The bag slipped from his grip, spilling dried vegetables, preserved radish, and walnuts across the floor.
"I—I’m sorry!"
Suddenly realizing these humble offerings might seem like trash to someone like Mr. Chao, the intern dropped to his knees, scrambling to gather the rolling walnuts.
"These mountain walnuts are really crisp." Chao Musheng crouched down, cracking one open with one hand. He gave half to the head and ate the other half himself. "My grandmother grows walnuts too, but the shells aren’t as thin as these."
"Mr. Chao, you still have an IV needle in your hand—let me handle this." The head quickly joined in picking up the scattered items.
"All this… just for me?" Chao Musheng acted as though he hadn’t noticed the intern’s embarrassment. "I only said a couple of words—isn’t this too much?"
"When I got home last night, my grandmother had already bought pesticide." The intern shook his head, meeting Chao Musheng’s gaze with utmost sincerity. "If I hadn’t made it back in time, I wouldn’t have a grandmother anymore. You saved both our lives."
The head’s hand stilled mid-reach for a walnut. Suddenly, he regretted keeping those 32 yuan for himself.
"My parents passed away early, and to raise me, my grandmother chose to live alone in the old village house rather than move in with my uncles." The medical intern placed the walnuts back into the cloth bag. "She raised four children, and life was hard—she developed many chronic illnesses from those years. When I was little, I thought becoming a doctor would mean I could cure all of her ailments."
"You’ll definitely become an amazing doctor," Chao Musheng said with a warm smile. "There’s an elderly man in our village whose child is a doctor, and everyone envies him. He walks around with such pride."
"You grew up in a village too?" The intern was surprised. Someone like Chao Musheng, a man of such stature, didn’t seem like he could have been a village boy.
"Yep. My grandparents lived in the village, and I was the ringleader of the kids back then." Chao Musheng picked up the plastic bag of dried radish strips.
The bag was clean and new, clearly packed with great care.
"Dried radish strips and cured pork stewed with preserved vegetables are incredibly fragrant." His eyes lit up as he spotted the cured meat and sausages in the cloth bag, and he happily tucked the radish strips inside. "Ah, just a few words from me, and I’ve taken so much from you. I’m really embarrassed."
Seeing that Chao Musheng didn’t look down on his humble gifts, the intern’s awkwardness and shame gradually faded, replaced by deep gratitude. "If you like them, I’ll bring more next time."
The department head cleared his throat.
Whether Chao Musheng truly liked these rustic offerings or not, his thoughtfulness was unmistakable.
"What illness does your grandmother have?" After gathering the scattered items, Chao Musheng gestured for the intern to sit.
"It’s a liver condition." The intern kept his head down, cheeks flushed, speaking softly. "The doctors at our hospital say it’s treatable."
Chao Musheng glanced at the intern’s faded short-sleeved shirt. "The charity foundation affiliated with Time Magazine has a subsidy program for rural elderly with liver and kidney diseases. You should apply."
The intern didn’t quite grasp it, but the department head immediately understood—Chao Musheng was trying to ease his financial burden.
Ordinary people had little access to such resources and information. Without Chao Musheng mentioning it, how would anyone know about these programs?
"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Chao. Given Little Luo’s circumstances, would he qualify for the subsidy?" The department head spoke up when the intern remained silent. "What documents are needed?"
"It shouldn’t be too complicated. Let me make a call." Chao Musheng dialed his mother’s number directly.
As soon as the call connected, he adopted a playful, ingratiating tone. "Dearest Mother, are you busy right now?"
"That tone of yours never means anything good." Chao Yin chuckled, setting down her pen. "Out with it—do you need a huge sum of money, or are you eyeing something expensive?"
"Neither." Chao Musheng glanced at the department head and the intern, then coughed awkwardly, covering the phone. "A friend of mine is in a tough spot—his grandmother has a serious liver condition. I remember Time’s charity foundation has a funding program for liver diseases. Could you send me an application form?"
"Fine. I’ll send you the contact details later." Chao Yin found it odd. "How do you know about this?"
"I was reviewing Time’s materials last night." Chao Musheng laughed. "Thanks, Mom. Love you."
"Alright. Just remember to come home early after work." Her voice softened before she hung up, then immediately turned businesslike as she addressed her assistant. "Announce the guest list and participating companies at 8 PM tonight."
The assistant nodded. "Ms. Chao, several celebrity teams reached out this morning, saying they’d fully cooperate with our event arrangements."
Previously, big-name stars had complained that the three-day event was too long, with many only willing to attend the red carpet. But once news spread that Kunlun Group’s headquarters representative would attend the entire event, suddenly, even the busiest celebrities found time—those filming in remote mountains now had transportation, those at sea suddenly had openings in their schedules.
Even those who claimed their film crews wouldn’t grant leave now magically had time off.
Overnight, it seemed every A-lister in the entertainment industry had free time.
No one knew who Kunlun would send, but rumors suggested the CEO’s two most trusted lieutenants might attend. If even one of them showed up, Time Magazine would need to prepare for a major prestige boost.
With the editor-in-chief’s personal intervention, the intern’s application was approved that very night.
Working late, he stared at the approval message from the charity foundation, too excited to stay seated. He stepped into the hallway before remembering it was the middle of the night—Chao Musheng was probably asleep.
But Chao Musheng was right—he would become a great doctor who saved lives!
Qi Shi stood in the corridor, watching in disbelief as the intern paced back and forth several times—his exhaustion level, which had been at 78, inexplicably dropped to 50.
How was this possible?
A man with dark circles rivaling a panda’s, who hadn’t slept or rested, just walked around a hallway and somehow became less tired?
He took off his special glasses and stuffed them into his pocket.
System-issued gadgets were clearly unreliable in the real world.
Exhausted from skipping sleep all day and working through the night, he could barely keep his eyes open.
Just a few more hours until morning, and they could finally clock out.
But when dawn arrived, Qi Shi’s hopes were dashed.
The three of them stood in the hallway when suddenly, they were surrounded by strangers.
Lion dancers circled them, someone draped a large red flower over their necks, and before they could react, a sash was slipped over their shoulders—emblazoned with four golden characters: "Heroes of Justice."
Qi Shi was baffled. What was happening?
Amidst the clamor of gongs and drums, the hospital director personally shook their hands and handed each a red plaque: "Reward: 50,000 yuan."
While Qi Shi and You Jiu stood frozen in confusion, Xiaojuan had already stepped forward to take a commemorative photo with the director.
"Thank you. Without you, our child might have been in grave danger."
The sash’s fabric was rough, and You Jiu felt his neck itch.
The red flower was tacky, clashing terribly with his outfit.
Yet, surrounded by praise and applause, he absentmindedly touched the flower on his chest—and found himself smiling.
It was a simple, almost goofy grin, nothing like his usual composed self.
"Kind," "brave," "good person"—these words floated from the crowd.
Was that him?
Kind?
Everything he did was calculated for mission rewards.
Brave?
He’d humiliate himself without hesitation if it meant clearing a level.
Good person?
You Jiu thought hard. Maybe, before the Infinite Space, he had been one.
"Thank you for your contributions to the hospital and the people." The director beamed at them, especially pleased to learn the three "heroes" were hospital janitors. His sleep that night had never been more peaceful.
However, as netizens rightly say, no amount of verbal praise compares to direct monetary rewards.
The three courageous janitors received their bonuses, and the hospital gained a sterling reputation—a win-win situation.
Xiaojuan scanned the crowd with the reward money in hand and soon spotted Chao Musheng.
Chao Musheng stood among the onlookers, waving cheerfully at them, with Mr. Su trailing behind, still holding up an IV drip.
Couldn’t even finish the infusion before running off to join the excitement?
Noticing Xiaojuan’s gaze, Chao Musheng gave her a thumbs-up.
That’s our Xiaojuan—the very embodiment of justice!
"Xiaojuan-jie is amazing," Zeng Ning murmured, standing at the door of Ward No. 2. The lively commotion from the director’s office drifted over as she turned to look at her mother, lying unconscious on the hospital bed.
Last night, she and the caregiver had kept vigil in the ward—her father hadn’t come to stay overnight.
Her eyes wandered to the lion dancers still leaping about in the hallway, and suddenly, an old folk tale came to mind: lion dances bring good fortune.
"Xiao Ning?" Chao Musheng turned to Zeng Ning, who had appeared beside him out of nowhere. "What’s wrong?"
Zeng Ning clutched a red string in her hand but hesitated, unsure how to voice her request.
Finally, she met Chao Musheng’s eyes and whispered, "I... want to ask for a lion dance blessing."
