The Company

Chapter 5 Dumb Shop · Millet Dream Pillow

Doctor had been suffering from sleep deprivation lately. Severe deprivation, because he had become addicted to online games. To be precise, SNS community games. These were the popular social games like farming and stealing crops, friend trading, parking spot battles... Such games had recently taken the internet by storm, with thousands of people getting hooked. As someone who kept up with trends, Doctor naturally became one of them.

But his level of addiction seemed somewhat excessive. Doctor had always been a perfectionist, someone who had to excel at everything he did.

So setting alarms to wake up in the middle of the night to steal crops - that was something he would actually do. Recently, he didn't even need to set alarms anymore, automatically waking up when it was time to steal crops. In severe cases, he would stay awake all night.

Therefore, it wasn't surprising that he often felt drowsy during work hours.

"Hey! Wake up, the morning meeting's already over." Someone was tapping Doctor's head with a stethoscope hanging around their neck, repeatedly and with apparent enjoyment.

Doctor struggled to lift his head from the desk, yawning lazily. The large figure standing before him was his good friend from university days. After graduation, they had joined the same hospital. This person was two days older than him, with the surname Chun and given name Ge. Doctor jokingly called him Chun Ge. Every time he shouted "Chun Ge" loudly in the hospital, it would attract unusually high rates of people turning to look.

"Were you on night shift yesterday? Why do you look so tired?" Chun Ge asked with concern. "During the meeting just now, the way Director was looking at you, it seemed like he wanted to throw you onto the operating table for live dissection!"

Doctor rubbed his messy hair and chuckled, "That's probably because he discovered I stole his crops when he woke up this morning, right?" Their Director was a stern middle-aged man, and they often joked about him in private. But no one had expected that even someone as serious as their Director would play online games.

"You..." Chun Ge shook his head helplessly. He wanted to scold his friend but felt he had already said everything that needed to be said these past few days. He could only sigh and say, "Take care of yourself. You need to stay focused at all times, not be thinking about stealing crops during surgeries!"

Chun Ge's eyes showed genuine concern. Having known Doctor for nearly ten years, he could tell that Doctor's mental state had been very abnormal recently.

He also knew the reason behind it - it probably had to do with that unexpected surgery last month. Due to Doctor's mistake, the patient had experienced massive bleeding during the procedure.

Although the patient had recovered after emergency treatment and was discharged a week ago, Doctor's condition never returned to normal. He had even started playing online games that he used to look down upon - this simply wasn't like him at all!

Chun Ge wanted to say more to persuade his friend, but the words stuck in his throat, eventually turning into another sigh.

Doctor lowered his head and forced out a dry laugh. He knew very well what others were thinking. But how could Chun Ge understand how he felt? Those who hadn't experienced such things themselves had no right to lecture him. Although the Director had specifically talked to him, saying that accidents during surgery were unavoidable, for a perfectionist like him, this was an indelible stain."She's here again..." Chun Ge caught sight of the woman standing in the corridor outside and shook his head helplessly. The Doctor leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his messy hair as his brow furrowed unconsciously. That young woman was the patient he had nearly killed during that surgery. Though she had been discharged from the hospital, she knew the operation hadn't gone smoothly, so she came for daily checkups.

And of course, he was the one responsible for her examinations. Actually, checking her condition was just routine work without any particular difficulty. But every time he saw the look in her eyes when she watched him, his heart filled with self-blame.

She must be blaming him, right? The Doctor knew he appeared dejected, but from medical school to his current position as an intern, the string in his heart had been stretched too tight. Others couldn't possibly imagine the immense mental pressure he was under - he was like that overstretched string.

It hadn't snapped yet, but had already lost its resilience. He let out a deep sigh, stood up, forced a slight smile, and walked toward her.

After work, the Doctor habitually headed toward the Dumb Shop. Actually, he wasn't very close with the Boss - it was just that one time when he had inadvertently pushed the door open and became fascinated with the place.

He knew nothing about antiques, but the owner of the Dumb Shop was approachable. He still remembered two years ago, when he had just graduated and started as an intern at the hospital, the pressure had been overwhelming. For some reason, he had poured out all his complaints to the Boss, who had simply smiled without showing any impatience.

Since then, the Dumb Shop had become a place he frequented. Sometimes, even without saying a word, just sitting quietly in the shop would make him feel physically and mentally relaxed.

Strangely enough, he had never bought anything from the Dumb Shop from beginning to end, yet the Boss always treated him kindly. Anyone else would have kicked him out long ago.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, he spotted the antique-style sign of the Dumb Shop. As he pushed open the heavy carved wooden door, he thought he saw a familiar white figure at the street corner, but when he looked more carefully, there was nothing there.

Must have been his imagination. The Doctor smiled slightly and stepped into the Dumb Shop without concern.

After he entered the Dumb Shop, the white figure emerged again from the street corner. It was a woman, watching the place where the Doctor had entered with a complicated expression on her face.

Had the Doctor been able to see this, he would have realized this person was actually the female patient he had been responsible for all along.

The interior of the Dumb Shop remained as dim as ever, filled with the captivating scent of agarwood.

The Doctor took a deep breath. He had thought his favorite smell was formaldehyde, but unexpectedly, this agarwood fragrance could also calm his mood.

"Welcome." The young Boss at the counter put down the book in his hands and stood up with a smile. The Boss was still wearing a black Tang suit, with a deep crimson Dragon embroidered on his left chest. The long Dragon body coiled around his waist twice, its head resting precisely on his left chest, baring teeth and glaring fiercely.

Looks like the Boss has multiple sets of this outfit! The Doctor thought idly.

"It seems your spirits aren't too high. Is something troubling you?" The young Boss's smile deepened slightly, his narrow phoenix eyes seeming to see through the Doctor's concerns without directly addressing them."Sigh, having trouble sleeping at night is really annoying." The Doctor quickly slipped into his flirtatious mode, plopping down onto the chair in front of the counter. As he sat, he remembered to soften his movements - he recalled this chair was supposedly made of huanghuali wood, Ming dynasty furniture, and quite expensive at that.

Though he had no idea if it was genuine. According to the Boss, every item in the shop had a long history and was priceless. Even the lighting in the shop used oil lamps - he hadn't found a single power outlet here since he started visiting.

What era are we living in? Are there still people living without electricity?

The Boss pondered for a moment before asking in return: "Trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah, do you have any incense that could help with sleep?" the Doctor asked half-jokingly. Being a doctor himself, he wouldn't casually take sleeping pills, but his poor sleep was already affecting his daily life.

He used to sleep very well, but since last month, he'd been waking up multiple times every night. Often he'd dream about that accident during surgery - that woman lying bloody beneath his scalpel.

Of course, he didn't have high expectations from the Boss, just asking casually. Unexpectedly, the Boss quickly replied: "No incense, but I have a pillow that can help you fall asleep quickly."

"Really?" the Doctor asked skeptically.

"Have you heard of the 'Dream of the Yellow Millet'?" The Boss turned and went into the inner room, but his voice continued to carry out. "During the Tang dynasty, there was a scholar named Lu Sheng who, while traveling to the capital for imperial examinations, stayed at an inn and met a Taoist priest named Lü Weng. Lu Sheng lamented about his lifelong poverty and hardship. After hearing this, Lü Weng took out a pillow and gave it to Lu Sheng, saying: 'Use this pillow when you sleep tonight, and it will ensure your dreams are satisfying.' By then it was late, and the innkeeper had started cooking yellow millet."

"I remember this," the Doctor continued: "Then Lu Sheng fell asleep using the pillow. In his dream, he passed the imperial examinations with high honors, married a beautiful wife, became a military governor, won battles, eventually became prime minister, enjoyed immense wealth and honor, and finally had many children and grandchildren. When he reached his eighties, he fell seriously ill and was about to die when he suddenly woke up, realizing it had all been a dream."

"And the millet the innkeeper was cooking hadn't finished yet." The Boss emerged from behind the jade screen, now holding a Brocade Box. "That's the 'Dream of the Yellow Millet,' and this," he placed the box on the counter and opened it, "is the pillow Lü Weng gave to Lu Sheng, also known as the Yellow Millet Pillow."

The Doctor nearly burst out laughing. This was just an idiom story - who knew if Lu Sheng even existed historically! How could his pillow possibly be here? Still, the Doctor gave the Boss enough face not to actually laugh out loud. Though he didn't believe it, when the Boss opened the Brocade Box on the counter, the Doctor still leaned in to take a look.

It was a Porcelain Pillow, glowing with celadon glaze, its texture like jade - clearly a high-quality piece. The Doctor knew he was an amateur who couldn't discern the pillow's origins, but one thing he did know: "A Porcelain Pillow? How comfortable can this be for sleeping? If I sleep on this, I might stay awake all night.""Take it back and give it a try. I'll lend you this pillow for a few days—just be careful with it." The Boss smiled slightly, then added, "But there's one thing: if you wake up midway, never use this pillow to go back to sleep immediately, or a sweet dream may turn into a nightmare, and that nightmare could become reality." Though the Doctor was highly skeptical, he found it hard to refuse such earnest hospitality, especially since he had been the one to broach the subject. So, he could only say thank you, pick up the Brocade Box, and prepare to leave. As he reached the door, he suddenly remembered something and asked, "By the way, in the 'Dream of the Yellow Millet,' what was Lu Sheng's final outcome?"

The Boss chuckled, his phoenix eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke with an air of profound mystery, "After that dream of the yellow millet, Lu Sheng experienced a great awakening. He never went to the capital for the imperial exams again and instead retreated deep into the mountains to cultivate the Dao."

The Doctor's hand trembled, nearly dropping the Brocade Box he was holding.

Upon returning home, he first played for a while with Apache, who wagged his tail and greeted him enthusiastically. After a quick meal and skimming through some medical case studies, the Doctor couldn't resist turning on his computer to play games.

He successfully stole eight carrots from the Director's virtual farm and grinned with satisfaction. The Director's avatar was an adorable little boy, which the Doctor assumed was the Director's five-year-old son. He had found the Director using the search function and sent friend requests for five consecutive days before finally being accepted.

Just as he was about to log off, a system notification popped up on the webpage. The Doctor opened it to find a friend request—the other party's avatar was a stern, passport-sized ID photo, unmistakably Chun Ge.

"Never thought you'd start playing this too!" The Doctor smirked to himself as he approved the request, noticing that Chun Ge's account was newly registered with a pitifully low level and no crops worth stealing in his farm. With a mischievous grin, the Doctor opened the "Friend Slave" option and bought Chun Ge at a low price. These games are only fun when played with people you know. He then checked his own farm, estimating the ripening times for his radishes, corn, tomatoes, and strawberries, and realized nothing would be ready that night.

Sighing, he hoped he could sleep dreamlessly until morning. After a shower, as he approached his bed, he suddenly remembered the Porcelain Pillow the Boss had lent him that day.

What harm could there be in trying it? The Doctor opened the Brocade Box, carefully lifted out the Porcelain Pillow, and placed it on the bed. After a moment's hesitation, he lay down on it.

It felt slightly cool and very firm. But because the grooves on the pillow's surface perfectly conformed to the curves of the human body, the Doctor was surprised to find it quite comfortable.

Soon, he fell into a deep sleep.

The Doctor opened his eyes to find the wall clock showing it was only 11 p.m.—he had slept for just over two hours. Yet the quality of his sleep was excellent; he woke up without any headache. It seemed this Porcelain Pillow really had some effect.

Apache, sleeping under the bed, lifted his head to glance at his owner, shook it, and settled back into a different position to continue sleeping. The Doctor rubbed his slightly hungry stomach and went to the kitchen to grab the leftover burger from the previous night. When he opened the refrigerator, he froze in astonishment.

Inside the fridge, neatly stacked, was a pile of carrots, still damp with soil, fresh and tender, looking as if they might drip moisture.

No more, no less—exactly eight carrots. The Doctor stared blankly for a second, then slammed the refrigerator door shut with a swift motion. It must... must be an illusion, right? He thought in a panic, not recalling having bought any carrots when he returned home that evening!As someone who detests carrots, it was impossible for him to have bought them himself! The Doctor took a deep breath and reopened the refrigerator—the eight carrots were still neatly arranged inside.

What was going on? How could his refrigerator spontaneously produce vegetables? The Doctor shuddered and quickly dismissed the thought from his mind.

Perhaps he had simply forgotten? Refusing to let his imagination run wild, he took the carrots out of the fridge, went downstairs, and placed them in his neighbor’s yard, where a cage housed several rabbits. As he walked back inside, he sensed someone in the house.

"Who’s there?" The Doctor picked up the long-handled umbrella leaning by the door.

"Master, I’ve brought you a midnight snack." Chun Ge emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron, a beaming smile on his face as he carried a plate. This burly, broad-shouldered man was clad in an ill-fitting pink apron of unknown origin, adorned with extravagant lace trims and a massive Pleasant Goat emblem on the chest. His rugged face bore an incongruously maternal smile, sending shivers down the Doctor’s spine.

"You... what did you call me?" For a moment, the Doctor didn’t know whether to set down the umbrella, grip it tighter, or simply whack Chun Ge over the head with it.

"Master! Didn’t you buy me? I’ve made dinner for you—come and try it." Chun Ge took the umbrella from the Doctor’s hand, guided him to the dining table, and firmly pressed him into a chair by the shoulders, gazing at him ingratiatingly. The Doctor stared numbly at the extravagantly lavish dinner spread before him. Though the aroma of the food was enticing, he had no appetite whatsoever. Was this some kind of joke? But Chun Ge’s face showed no trace of suspicion.

So... was this for real? The Doctor felt his throat go dry and his hands and feet turn cold—how terrifying!

"Is Master unsatisfied? Hmm... then let me please you. What should I do? A spa? A back massage? A foot rub? A manicure?" Chun Ge tilted his head thoughtfully, pouting and adopting the signature expression of an adorable maid.

In the game, there was indeed such an option—slaves could please their masters... Stop! What was he thinking? The Doctor shuddered as Chun Ge decided to give him a spa treatment! He felt like fainting! Could he exchange for a female slave instead? The Doctor struggled desperately, but Chun Ge was relentless, and the Doctor’s physique was no match for his. To make matters worse, Apache offered no assistance to his master, instead watching with keen interest, occasionally barking—whether to cheer on the Doctor or root for Chun Ge was unclear.

As the two wrestled, Chun Ge suddenly stopped, straightened up, and removed his apron. The Doctor reflexively backed away several steps, eyeing him warily and almost wailing, "What are you trying to do?"

Chun Ge said regretfully, "What a pity. I’ve been bought by someone else and need to hurry to my new master’s home." Without another moment’s delay, he turned and left. The Doctor’s face darkened. Hearing the door close, he rushed to lock it securely, then dashed back to the bedroom and turned on his computer.Going online, opening a webpage, and entering the URL. Sure enough, all the slaves under his name were gone—Chun Ge had just been bought by the Director. Damn, was Chun Ge really going to the Director’s house this late? The Doctor couldn’t even imagine it, but he also breathed a huge sigh of relief. At the same time, he wondered: if he bought someone else in the game, would they actually come to his house to serve him? Would the stolen lingzhi and ginseng also appear in his fridge?

The Doctor couldn’t resist such temptation and sat down in front of the computer.

Just as he had expected, every slave he bought in the game would show up at his house within ten minutes, whether he knew them or not. All the crops he stole in the game would instantly appear in his fridge, from cabbage to ginseng. Every car he acquired in the parking game would soon be parked downstairs, from an Alto to a Ferrari!

The Doctor was fulfilled. He played this game precisely to experience this feeling.

Stepping out of reality, completely detached from surgeries and patients, it was just him. The Doctor added many friends and played with great relish until the doorbell rang again.

He opened the door, and that female patient suddenly appeared in front of him, beaming with a bright smile.

The Doctor opened his eyes and found himself still lying in bed. Through the curtains, he could faintly see that dawn was breaking outside. So, he had indeed been dreaming. It seemed this Porcelain Pillow really could bring beautiful dreams.

Except for that last scene, which was a bit frightening... but it was still much better than the nightmares from the previous days. In those nightmares, the female patient wasn’t standing there intact but was disemboweled, with blood pooling all over the floor...

The Doctor shuddered and forced himself to stop thinking about it. He glanced at the time—it was only 4 a.m.—so he simply turned over and fell back into a deep sleep.

He had completely forgotten the Boss’s warning.

Soon, the alarm clock blared harshly, and the Doctor sat up sluggishly. Apache jumped onto the bed, eagerly circling around. The first thing the Doctor did was rush to the kitchen and open the fridge. Seeing no carrots, no strawberries, no tomatoes, potatoes, or cucumbers—no suspicious fruits or vegetables at all—he breathed a sigh of relief.

So, it really had been a dream.

After taking Apache for a morning jog, he returned home, washed up, and had a simple breakfast. As he tied his tie and headed downstairs, two elderly neighbors were arguing over some trivial matter at the building entrance. Without a second thought, they pulled the Doctor in to mediate.

Patiently listening to both sides and trying to reason with them, he soon realized nothing he said would make a difference. He quickly found an excuse to slip away. Just as he stepped out of the residential area, a sudden gust of wind whipped up, and raindrops the size of beans began to fall without warning. Muttering about his bad luck, the Doctor jogged all the way to the hospital, but his clothes were already half-soaked.

After the morning meeting, the Doctor received his surgery assignments and was surprised to find himself scheduled as the assistant for a coronary artery bypass graft surgery—commonly known as a heart bypass surgery. Chun Ge had been preparing and looking forward to this surgery for a long time. But at such a critical moment, Chun Ge had taken leave and was absent from the meeting room.

Strangely, that female patient who came to the hospital punctually every day was also absent today. The Doctor didn’t dwell on it. He had suddenly been assigned this important surgery and needed to prepare immediately—there wasn’t much time left for him.The doctor truly wished to decline politely, but the Director's tone left no room for refusal. Having graduated at the top of his class in medical school, the doctor was thoroughly familiar with the surgical procedure. Yet he feared unexpected complications might arise during the operation, so he spent the entire morning immersed in the hospital library, simultaneously consulting medical literature and simulating surgical steps.

The surgery was scheduled for 1 PM. Fully prepared, the doctor stood by the operating table where the Director served as lead surgeon while he acted as primary assistant.

When he grasped the scalpel, his hand still trembled slightly. But upon assuming his surgical duties, he discovered that standing here again wasn't as difficult as he had imagined.

General anesthesia with hypothermia, extracorporeal circulation, cardiac arrest, vessel harvesting, bypass... The surgery had been proceeding very smoothly. It should be said that everything went well until the artificial heart-lung machine was stopped and switched to internal circulation, when the surgery was nearly complete. But during the final suturing, suddenly the heart sprayed a massive amount of blood, splattering all over his face before he could react. Warm blood streamed down his cheeks as the Doctor panicked, hearing the alarm from the electrocardiogram monitor as the heart rate flatlined.

"Thump!" The patient, who had been lying on the operating table, actually moved, then shakily sat up. The Doctor stood frozen, looking up to discover this patient was the very woman from his previous surgical accident!

Her pale face was filled with resentment, and what made his blood run even colder was that her chest cavity remained open, clearly revealing the still heart continuously gushing blood. "You! You killed me!" the young woman snarled through gritted teeth, tearing out various IV tubes from her body and jumping off the operating table to advance toward him step by step.

"No! No! It wasn't intentional!" The Doctor reflexively backed away several steps, every muscle tense, but there wasn't much space behind him to retreat. After just a few steps, he hit the wall. He had no mental capacity to consider that while his surgical mistake was real, this female patient hadn't actually died.

The woman's face slowly drew closer, wearing a sinister half-smile that appeared ghostly, combined with the gaping chest cavity to create an indescribable eeriness.

One step, two steps, three steps... The Doctor could even smell the blood emanating from her.

It's over! He's done for! The Doctor shut his eyes tightly, thinking despairingly.

"Pant! Pant!" The Doctor woke from the nightmare to find Apache lying on him, licking his face. Had the sensation of blood in the dream been so vivid because of Apache's drool? Gasping for air, he watched the strands of sunlight entering through the window curtains, feeling confused about what was real and what was dream.

The helplessness from the dream still lingered in his heart, leaving him with a vague terror. Like a drowning person watching themselves being swallowed by darkness, wanting to scream but unable to make a sound. Large drops of sweat streamed from his forehead as the Doctor tried to hold Apache still with one hand, but his palm touched something icy cold.

It was that Porcelain Pillow.

The jade-like glaze shimmered with an eerie light in the sunlight, transmitting bone-chilling cold through his palm that made the Doctor's heart grow increasingly cold.

Why did he have such a dream? It was almost identical to his previous surgical accident, though that patient's massive bleeding had been controlled. But if the surgery in the dream had actually happened, the patient's life would have been in grave danger. Yet why would sudden massive bleeding occur?

The Doctor clutched his head in agony, thinking for a long time until Apache's restless jumping made him realize he'd been troubled by a mere dream. He couldn't resist pinching his own cheek - it definitely hurt.

This time, he should be truly awake, right?The doctor couldn't help but glance back at the Porcelain Pillow he had slept on all night. Although he had slept soundly, the dreams had left him utterly exhausted. Every scene remained vividly clear, unlike ordinary dreams—more like events that had truly happened.

He washed up hurriedly. Apache was already waiting by the door, wagging its tail and holding the leash in its mouth, ready for their morning run. Just as the doctor reached for the door, memories of his actions in the dream flashed through his mind, freezing his hand mid-air.

He glanced apologetically at the sulking Apache but decided to cancel the run anyway. After breakfast, as he prepared to leave, he inexplicably grabbed the umbrella behind the door—even though the forecast showed no rain.

Downstairs, two elderly neighbors were arguing at the stairwell. The scene and reason felt eerily familiar, sending chills down his spine. Too panicked to greet them, he lowered his head and hurried past.

Just a coincidence, he tried to reassure his unsettled mind. But as he reached the neighborhood entrance, a sudden gust of wind arose, and raindrops began to fall exactly as foretold in the dream. The doctor opened his umbrella and walked toward the hospital.

Coincidence! All of it is coincidence! He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to believe it.

The streets looked no different from usual. Walking under his umbrella, he gradually felt he was being overly sensitive. Those two neighbors had always disliked each other, and summer showers were common.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh, damp air, his mood lifted.

The hospital’s morning meeting was as dull as ever. The doctor scanned the room and confirmed that Chun Ge was indeed absent. The female patient who always waited in the hallway for his daily check-up was also missing.

It was as if the dream were replaying. These two occurrences couldn’t possibly be coincidences, stirring unease within him.

"Chun Ge took leave today. You’ll take over his scheduled surgery," the Director said, stopping beside him and handing him a thick medical file.

Startled, the doctor accepted the file under the Director’s puzzled gaze, his hands trembling. He stared at it for a long moment before mustering the courage to open it—Coronary Artery Bypass Graft Surgery!

The nightmare is repeating! A chill crawled up his spine, leaving him weak. He recalled the Boss’s final warning: "Just remember, if you wake up, never use this pillow to go back to sleep immediately. Otherwise, sweet dreams turn into nightmares, and nightmares become reality."

A violent shiver ran through him.

Smack! He slapped his own cheeks hard.

He wouldn’t admit defeat—this was reality! Studying the patient’s file carefully, he remembered exactly where the massive hemorrhage had occurred in the dream, but the pre-op checks showed no abnormalities. He racked his brain for possibilities but found no clues.

The afternoon surgery proceeded as scheduled. Standing as the first assistant, the doctor watched in disbelief as every detail and person mirrored his dream from the night before. It was like watching a recorded film, frame by frame.

The surgery began smoothly, and thanks to the dream, it felt like a repetition. But this time, just before switching from cardiopulmonary bypass to native circulation, the doctor stopped the Director, insisting on a thorough re-examination.The Director standing opposite him frowned. Although this was a difficult surgery, everything was proceeding normally. The Doctor almost held his breath, watching the Director without blinking. He knew he was just an intern—in the operating room, the lead surgeon was the one truly in charge.

The Director saw no issues. Since the Doctor was unwilling to suture, he would do it himself. "Switch from cardiopulmonary bypass to internal circulation."

Others in the operating room looked sympathetically at the stunned Doctor. They all knew about his mistake in the previous surgery and naturally assumed his insistence now was merely stubbornness. The Doctor didn’t know how to stop what was happening. Events continued unfolding as in his dream, except this time, the Director was the one performing the sutures.

The moment the needle pierced the heart valve, the scene from the Doctor’s dream materialized—the patient’s heart suddenly gushed a torrent of blood! The ECG monitor screamed a sharp alarm! Reacting swiftly, the Doctor vividly recalled the exact bleeding point from his dream. As the blood began to spurt, he lunged forward and clamped the artery with a hemostat!

Chaos erupted in the operating room.

"Switch to extracorporeal circulation!" Sweat poured down the Director’s forehead like a river, while a nurse beside him continuously wiped it away. Artificial tubing immediately drew venous blood from the patient’s body, passing it through the continuous cardiopulmonary bypass machine for external oxygenation before returning it to the patient.

The Doctor glanced up at the nearby ECG monitor. The patient’s heartbeat flatlined into a straight line, the piercing sound overlapping with his dream… Everything was exactly as it had been in the dream…

The door of the Dumb Shop was pushed open. The Boss set down the book in his hand, looking slightly surprised at the visitor. "Why are you here so late?" The Doctor couldn’t hide his exhaustion, carefully placing the Brocade Box in his hands on the counter. "The surgery took two hours longer than planned. By the time I left the hospital, it was already dark."

"Did the surgery go smoothly?" the Boss asked with a smile.

The Doctor nodded, slumping heavily into a chair and sprawling limply. "It was a complex procedure to begin with, and I took over temporarily. You wouldn’t understand the details, but… in the end, it was successful!"

"That’s good." The Boss seemed to have already known the outcome, his smile unwavering. The Doctor opened the Brocade Box and quietly gazed at the Porcelain Pillow resting on the silk cloth. After a long silence, he finally said, "I’m returning this Porcelain Pillow to you."

"What’s wrong? Still can’t sleep?" The Boss raised an eyebrow.

"No, I’m truly grateful for it. The beautiful dreams it gave me felt very real." The nightmares were equally real. The Doctor didn’t have the courage to voice the latter part. As a doctor, he fundamentally didn’t believe in supernatural phenomena, and that frightened him. Like a curse, he kept pondering after the surgery: if he hadn’t been greedy for the beautiful dreams, would the nightmare still have manifested in reality?

He didn’t want to know the answer. Dreams were dreams, and reality was reality. He didn’t want to struggle every night to discern whether he was dreaming or not. Or perhaps, he had been trapped in the nightmare from a month ago, unable to free himself for a long time.After the surgery today, the usually stern Director unexpectedly praised him, which truly woke him from his nightmare. One failed surgery doesn’t mean all future surgeries will fail. There were other mistakes that hadn’t yet led to irreversible consequences. It was no different from his school days—he hadn’t given up studying just because of one failed exam.

The Doctor clenched his fists in secret, feeling that he had been a complete fool this past month.

One must face their mistakes to move forward better.

The Boss didn’t ask many questions but reached out and grasped the Doctor’s fist resting on the counter, offering a comforting smile. “On a smooth road, one can walk easily, but it’s only on a muddy path that one leaves footprints.”

The Boss’s hand was cold. “Nightmares may come true, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be changed,” the Boss said meaningfully. The Doctor looked up and saw the profound darkness in the Boss’s eyes, feeling as if his smile had seen right through his thoughts.

Just then, the carved door of the Dumb Shop was pushed open from the outside, and a young woman in a white dress walked in. Her gaze fell on the Doctor and the Boss’s overlapping hands, and she froze in surprise. Seeing her, the Doctor immediately jumped up from his chair. This pale-faced woman was the patient he had nearly failed to save in his last surgery.

When the woman saw the Doctor, a flush of color crossed her pale face, showing she had recovered quite a bit. Her voice was gentle as she said, “Hello, I went to the hospital this afternoon and heard you had a surgery, so I wanted to talk to you no matter what.”

The Doctor lowered his head awkwardly. Though hesitant, he firmly apologized, “I’m sorry. I should have formally apologized to you long ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to face it.” The flickering candlelight in the shop cast shifting shadows on the woman’s face, making her expression hard to read. The Boss remained behind the counter, smiling faintly.

“Pfft!” The woman looked at the Doctor, then at the Boss, and finally couldn’t hold back a light laugh. “Oh, I see! So that’s how it is. I was wondering how such an excellent man like the Doctor could be without a girlfriend. So… no wonder… no wonder he comes to this shop every night… Doctor, goodbye! I won’t bother you anymore. My body has actually been fully recovered for a while now!”

Shaking her head, the woman finished speaking and walked out on her own, leaving the two inside the shop staring at each other in bewilderment.

“What… what did she mean?” the Doctor asked, utterly confused.

“She’s quite beautiful and has feelings for you. That’s why she kept coming for check-ups every day. Didn’t you notice?” the Boss pointed out, solving the question that had long puzzled the Doctor, then sat back down as if nothing had happened and picked up his book to read.

“No… The only impression I have of her is when she was lying on the operating table, opened up…” the Doctor thought for a moment and said seriously.

The Boss lifted his eyelids and gave a strange smile, though it was unclear whom he was referring to. “Ah, how pitiful.”

“Hey! Who are you calling pitiful? And what did she mean by her last words before leaving?” The Doctor felt uncomfortable the moment he saw that smile on the Boss’s face, as if he were being set up.The Boss leisurely sipped tea while reading a book. The Doctor, finding his own antics uninteresting, stomped away in a huff. Listening to the fading footsteps, the Boss smiled and set down his book. He retrieved the Porcelain Pillow from the Brocade Box and began polishing it meticulously with a chamois cloth.

"Huangliang, it seems this time was also successful—not only did we save a life, but we also enlightened that fellow. From now on, he will surely become an excellent doctor, saving countless lives," the Boss murmured as if talking to himself. The Porcelain Pillow seemed to understand his words, its jade-like surface growing increasingly luminous and smooth.

The door of the Dumb Shop creaked open once more.

"Welcome," the Boss lifted his head, flashing his signature smile as his voice drifted through the dimly lit shop.

By the doorway, the candle flame continued its faint, flickering dance, as if asking:

Who might this next guest be?

(End of Chapter)