Chapter 168: Most Importantly Hes Single |
Yu Xiao’s mind went blank. Well, not entirely blank. Images of her two lovely, rent-controlled flats in the city centre danced before her eyes, *They are mine! I won’t let you take advantage of me.*
“Ha,” she forced a smile, “You can’t just replace me.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the Director said nonchalantly, slender fingers stroking a delicate, white porcelain teacup as if it were a priceless Ming dynasty artefact. “Options are plentiful.”
Frustration bubbled up, but Yu Xiao swallowed it down. “What kind of beings are Nightmare and Jealousy anyway?”
A flicker of theatrical melancholy touched the Director’s eyes. “They are echoes of the dead – Nightmare, born from primal fear, and Jealousy, from the bitter sting of envy. Neither ghost nor truly alive, they exist in the space between.” He lowered his head, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. “They don’t crave life like we do. They don’t yearn, they don’t desire… I envy that freedom from the madness of wanting… I envy it so much.”
His tone sharpened, teeth clenching. Abruptly, he picked up his phone and dialled a number right in front of her. “It’s me. Jealousy’s little stunt was a blatant violation. Two more months community service. Consider it a lesson.”
Yu Xiao stared, speechless. She resisted the urge to pat his hand and offer him a juice box. The man needed a hobby.
The Director hung up, his good mood seemingly restored. “See? As Director, you could do the same. Imagine, wielding such influence…”
Ignoring his not-so-subtle suggestion, Yu Xiao pressed on. “What exactly is a ‘domain’?”
“Heh, maybe next time,” Yu Xiao chuckled awkwardly. “But seriously, what’s the deal with these ‘domains’?”
“Why the sudden interest?” the Director asked, his mind clearly still on his impending discharge.
Relieved by his indifference to the hospital’s fate, Yu Xiao took a gamble. “I have a few ghostly associates. If they could get their hands on domains, well, let’s just say it would be mutually beneficial.”
“Ah,” the Director’s eyes glinted with understanding. “Someone else once had the same idea. Didn’t work out. Domains are innate, not something you can just pick up.”
Yu Xiao blinked. Since when did ghosts use words like ‘innate’? “Who was this someone?” she asked, latching onto the important detail.
“The one before you,” he replied, as if it were obvious.
Her curiosity piqued. “The one who got out early?”
He nodded. “That’s the one.”
Yu Xiao found herself increasingly intrigued by this predecessor. What kind of person was he, racking up points so quickly? He must have been something special, with the willpower to leave so decisively.
“What about him…” she began, “Why him, back then? You said you chose me because I have… ‘living virtues’. Compassion, responsibility, all that. Surely he had those too?”
“Of course he did,” the Director grumbled, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “Hypocrite. Enough about him. I’m tired. Need to rest.”
“Even you need rest?” Yu Xiao asked, surprised.
“What’s it to you?” He shot her a sidelong glare. “Goldie, get her out of here!”
Back on the ferry, Yu Xiao saw the usual passengers huddled in the corners. “Who are they?” she whispered.
The Cerberus stared straight ahead, silent as a tomb. Yu Xiao, never one to back down from a challenge, pressed on. “Ever think what’ll happen when I’m Director? How I’ll treat you?”
The Cerberus remained stubbornly silent.
“Head of Security’s a pretty sweet gig,” she mused out loud. “Think any ghosts would beg me for that job?”
“Those are the department heads,” sighed the three-headed dog.
“Ah,” Yu Xiao mused. So everyone worked for the hospital. How cosy.
Gazing out at the crimson river, an idea struck her. She leaned closer to the despondent dog. Its three pairs of eyes fixed on her with wary disdain.
“Goldie,” she whispered, “Why does the Director hate the last living visitor so much?”
Goldie’s fur bristled, teeth bared. “Grr… Woof!”
“Come on, spill the tea.” Yu Xiao casually slung an arm around the dog’s neck. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Besides, if I’m Director one day, you’ll still be top dog.”
Goldie was torn. This was venturing into dangerous territory, but displeasing a future Director was equally unappealing.
After a moment’s hesitation, it whispered, “Don’t you breathe a word of this.”
“My lips are sealed,” Yu Xiao assured.
“If you do,” growled the three-headed dog, “even if it costs me my job, I’ll bite you to death!”
“Alright, alright,” she laughed, giving its neck a gentle shake. “Out with it then.”
“He lied to the Director,” it mumbled. “Agreed to everything, then went back on his word. And… and he changed the hospital layout.”
Yu Xiao’s jaw dropped. Someone actually managed to change the layout?
“What did he do?” she pressed.
The three-headed dog hesitated, about to spill more secrets, when suddenly its phone rang. “What? An attending doctor ate a patient? Right, on my way!”
It looked as if it had been granted amnesty. “You’ve done the journey loads of times. You’ll be fine getting back yourself, right?”
“Fine? What if a ghost tries to snack on me?”
“Woof!” Desperate to escape, it ripped something off its chest and shoved it at her. “My badge. Representing my identity. No ghost will mess with you.”
And with that, it bolted, as if something truly terrifying was on its tail.
Yu Xiao clutched the Cerberus’s ID badge, identical to her own save for the ‘Head of Security’ inscription.
Behind her, the churning river of blood. Ahead, a wall of impenetrable black mist.
This was her third trip down this path, the route committed to memory. But before, she’d had the Cerberus and its cronies for company. Despite their less-than-human nature, it had been… comforting. Now, alone in the oppressive mist, she felt a prickle of unease.
This was no ordinary fog, she knew, but concentrated yin energy. A palpable… feeling of souls trying to invade her body.
She picked up her pace.
The inpatient ward loomed ahead, some rooms faintly glowing, others lost in shadow. The echoing rattle of a trolley reached her ears.
Must be the meal trolley, she thought.
Then came a whistling sound, the tune eerily familiar – ‘Two Butterflies’. Yu Xiao stopped, listening as the trolley drew closer, until a surprised voice cut through the gloom.
“Well, well. A living one.”
She spun around. In the dim light, she could just make out the trolley. Holding up her badge, she watched as the dining ghost hesitated, then turned to flee.
“Not so fast!” she barked.
The poor ghost, just trying to do its job, froze in its tracks. As Yu Xiao approached, her eyes widened in recognition. Wild hair, claw-like fingers…
“You…” she pointed, “You look familiar.”
The ghost, spotting her, began to tremble with excitement, hopping from foot to foot and pointing. Yu Xiao felt something snake-like slither out of her trouser pocket.
“!!”
A strand of hair. Memories flooded back.
“You’re the one from the mortuary…”
The singing ghost nodded fervently, wringing its hands. “It’s me.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you were at the mortuary?”
One eye, peering through the curtain of hair, fixed her with a mournful stare. “Gu Shu… he’s no longer good.”
Yu Xiao blinked, confused, and then it clicked. She had once suggested her to pursue Gu Shu. That hadn’t gone well then.
“He doesn’t have a salary,” the ghost wailed.
Yu Xiao’s eyes widened. Oh dear.
“And now he doesn’t even have a job.”
She bit back a sigh.
“I’m over him,” the ghost added, with a touch of defiance in her voice.
Yu Xiao stifled a laugh. “You’re right. Never settle for an unemployed ghost. But why come all the way to the Sixth Hospital?”
“To find you,” the ghost said, her eyes fixed on her. “I can sense the hair.”
It all came flooding back. The ghost had given her a strand of hair. At the time, Yu Xiao hadn’t been sure what it was for and had just shoved it in her pocket, promptly forgetting about it. Apparently, it doubled as a tracking device.
“And what can I do for you?” she asked, feeling a pang of sympathy for the ghost who had once helped her.
“I need a job,” the ghost mumbled, wringing her hands.
Yu Xiao stared. “You don’t like… delivering meals?”
The ghost shook her head.
“Then what kind of job are you after?”
The ghost’s eyes flickered up, then away. “Somewhere… with lots of eligible bachelors.”
Yu Xiao’s mind went blank. How was she supposed to know where to find a hotbed of eligible bachelors, ghostly or otherwise? And even if she did, playing matchmaker was beyond her pay grade. She was a patient, not a dating guru.
But as she looked at the lovelorn ghost, a thought struck her. The Director always got cagey when talk turned to the former patient from the First Hospital. And the Cerberus, with its evasive answers, was clearly hiding something. Asking them directly would be like navigating a minefield of half-truths and deflections.
No, she needed a different approach.
The First Hospital may have been deserted, but a few die-hards remained. Surely someone there knew that senior. And patient gossip had to be more reliable than anything the Director would reveal.
“You,” Yu Xiao fixed the female ghost with a steely gaze.
The ghost flinched, taking a step back. Yu Xiao considered offering a reassuring hand on the shoulder but thought better of it after noticing the greasy hair. Greasy hair was greasy hair.
“You might not know this,” she said, locking eyes with the ghost, “but I’m not just a hospital Dean. I’m also the inspection team leader and the Dragon Goddess of Poisoned Town. Getting you a job is child’s play. But why should I?”
The ghost froze, panic creeping into her eyes. She had nothing to offer.
“Consider this a golden opportunity,” Yu Xiao continued. “Do me a favour, and you’ve got yourself a deal. You’re looking for a top-notch ghost, right? Well, at Saint Elizabeth’s, we have Tie Niu. He’s the head of surgery, highly skilled, with a cushy job, great benefits, and most importantly… he’s single.”
The ghost’s eyes lit up. Her tone did a complete 180. “Anything, Dean. Just name it.”
“Switch departments. Start delivering meals to the First Hospital.”
“Easy peasy!” The ghost, practically vibrating with excitement, turned to leave.
“Hold on,” Yu Xiao called out. The ghost stopped. “What’s on the menu today? And give me some.”
The ghost eagerly pulled back the cloth covering the trolley. “Human brain!”
“…”
**
Back at the ward, Nightmare slouched by the door while Zhao Lan sat lost in thought by the window. Only Zhou Xiao Zhen paced anxiously, worried sick about Yu Xiao.
Where was she? What if something had happened?
Zhao Lan, staring out the window, replayed Yu Xiao’s previous visits to the Medical Dispute Office in her mind. The first time, her friend had been anxious, her cheerfulness upon return a thin facade.
This time, Yu Xiao’s departure had been less dramatic, but Zhao Lan sensed an air of purpose, as if she had been waiting for this.
Yu Xiao was hiding something.
Zhao Lan could understand keeping real-world secrets. But something about the hospital… that was different.
Yu Xiao hadn’t even tried to conceal her job or her dealings with those seniors from the other hospitals, or her strange protectiveness of Nightmare. Whatever this was, it was serious.
And if it was just danger, Yu Xiao wouldn’t hide it. She wasn’t the type to face things alone.
The more Zhao Lan thought, the more afraid she became. Both times, Yu Xiao had been accompanied by that three-headed dog. If a creature like that was just a guide, who was calling the shots?
Her mind spiralled into increasingly terrifying scenarios, just as Nightmare suddenly straightened up and swung the door open.
Yu Xiao stood there, holding a container of food, a surprised look on her face. She hadn’t even knocked.
“I’m back!” she announced, setting the food down. “Bumped into the dinner trolley. Sichuan boiled fish tonight…”
- ( [水煮鱼; shuǐ zhǔ yú; “water-boiled fish”; Sichuan Boiled Fish]: A popular spicy Chinese dish, known for its intense flavours.)
