Nightmare Onslaught - Chapter 20 - Dr. Jiang

Hearing the sound of footsteps coming downstairs, Fatty poked his head out from the kitchen. “Doctor, please take a seat for a moment. The food will be ready soon.”

Jiang Cheng murmured an indistinct “Hmm” and walked over to the sofa to sit down. The events of last night flashed in his mind, sometimes clear, sometimes fragmented, giving him a faint headache.

He looked up and noticed that the office seemed to have been repaired.

The shelf that stored patients’ medical cases had been on the verge of collapsing on one side. To save trouble, Jiang Cheng had simply wrapped it with wide adhesive tape to make do.

Now, the tape had been cleaned off, and two long nails were used to secure the broken part. The rust on the metal clamps of the shelf had also been removed.

The messy wires along the wall and overhead had been carefully separated and neatly fixed in their proper places.

A folded ladder leaned against the wall, with a piece of paper stuffed in between, probably to avoid dirtying the wall.

On the floor by the desk lay a piece of old newspaper, on which rested a hammer, a pair of blunt scissors, a roll of black insulating tape, and various sizes of metal nails.

It seemed this was the source of the clanging noises heard early in the morning.

“Doctor,” Fatty’s voice came from the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of running water, creating a lively atmosphere. “Do you eat spicy food? I made Braised Pork Ribs.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng replied loudly, “but be careful not to add too much chili. I’m going through puberty and prone to acne.”

Fatty’s movements paused for a moment but quickly resumed as normal.

Jiang Cheng leaned back on the sofa, and his phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. He took it out, glanced at it, and swiped right to answer the call.

“Dr. Jiang,” a man’s voice came from the other end, sounding quite young. “Are you at the studio now?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll come over right away,” the man said happily. “I’m nearby, about half an hour away.”

“Alright,” Jiang Cheng nodded and then hung up the phone.

Just then, Fatty came out carrying a pot. The sides of the pot were very hot, so he had wrapped some tissues around the rim.

Even so, he walked quickly over, put the pot down, and immediately retracted his hand. His thick fingers had turned slightly red.

Noticing Jiang Cheng looking at him, Fatty chuckled sheepishly and said he couldn’t find a basin, so he had to make do for now.

“There’s a rag in the kitchen,” Jiang Cheng suddenly said.

Fatty was stunned for a moment, taking a few seconds to realize that the doctor was referring to his burned fingers. He felt a wave of gratitude and, with teary eyes, said, “Doctor, thank you…”

But he didn’t expect…

Jiang Cheng glanced at the used tissues and muttered, “Tissues aren’t free, you know. You don’t need to use so many at once.”

“…”

Despite the comment, Fatty’s cooking was truly impeccable. Jiang Cheng ate most of the pot of Braised Pork Ribs and polished off two large bowls of rice.

If Fatty hadn’t been quick to grab the last piece of rib, he might not have even tasted his own cooking.

“How is it?” Fatty asked eagerly, looking at Jiang Cheng. “Doctor, my cooking’s not bad, right? I learned it from the head chef at Drunken Immortal Pavilion. I was his apprentice.”

Jiang Cheng put down his bowl, pulled out a tissue, and wiped the grease from the Braised Pork Ribs off his mouth. “It’s alright,” he said, then suddenly let out a burp. After calming down, he added, “But since you worked so hard, I felt obligated to eat more so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

The light in Fatty’s eyes slowly dimmed, like a child who didn’t receive the praise he was hoping for.

Silently, he collected the pot, bowls, and chopsticks and returned to the kitchen.

The sound of running water no longer seemed as cheerful as before, now dragging on with a heavy, complicated tone.

Jiang Cheng looked at the table, which was polished so well it could almost reflect his face, and suddenly called out, “Fatty?”

The sound in the kitchen paused. After a moment, Fatty’s voice came through, “Doctor, you called me?”

“I have a client coming over soon,” Jiang Cheng said in an extremely calm tone, with a hint of finality. “So you…”

Fatty exhaled and replied after ten seconds, “I understand. I’ll leave once I’m done cleaning.” He paused, then added, “Anyway, thank you for helping me in that Nightmare.”

Not long after, Fatty came out of the kitchen, drying his hands. Jiang Cheng was leaning on the sofa and only opened his eyes when he saw Fatty approaching.

Fatty took his work coat from the hanger and put it back on. Just as he was about to say something, Jiang Cheng interrupted him, speaking slowly, “There’s a big supermarket nearby. It has a wide variety of ingredients, and most importantly, it’s cheap.”

Fatty frowned in confusion, as he often did when he couldn’t understand the man in front of him.

“I want stewed ribs for dinner,” Jiang Cheng said shamelessly. “Since stewing takes time, you’ll need to hurry back.”

The confusion on Fatty’s face gradually turned to excitement. He nodded repeatedly and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

Soon after, Fatty disappeared like a gust of wind from Jiang Cheng’s sight. Jiang Cheng stood up, walked over to the medical case shelf, and ran his fingers along the rows of medical cases. Quickly, he pulled out one.

On the cover of the medical case was written the name “Hu Yan.”

Opening the medical case, it detailed Hu Yan’s behavior during her time here. The records were quite thorough, even noting her habit of shaking her leg and how her gaze frequently darted toward a certain direction during conversations, showing extreme vigilance.

The direction she kept looking at was the door.

Hu Yan disappeared after dreaming about a door. According to her, her younger sister had the same experience, which was similar to Jiang Cheng’s situation but also different.

At least Hu Yan and her younger sister were able to convey the message about dreaming of a door. Her younger sister told Hu Yan over the phone, and Hu Yan personally informed Jiang Cheng face-to-face. This meant that after dreaming of the door, they didn’t immediately enter it.

But Jiang Cheng was different, and so was Fatty. The moment they dreamed of the door, they were pulled into the Nightmare World.

When the knocking sound came, Jiang Cheng was sitting at his desk, flipping through another medical case. Without looking up, he said, “Come in.”

The door opened, and a very young man walked in.

He was dressed in a full Armani suit, with tortoiseshell-framed glasses, a shirt with a gold-embellished collar, a blue-and-white striped tie, and a pair of brown leather shoes that made a light, cheerful “thud” sound on the old floor.

The air was filled with the Florence-inspired elegance of Italian handmade leather shoes.

“Dr. Jiang,” the young man, who exuded an aura of confidence, ruined it all with his smile. Whether intentional or not, his hair was parted down the middle, making him look eerily like the traitor from war movies.

He slightly hunched his back, his face full of obsequiousness.

Jiang Cheng slowly put down the medical case in his hand and only then looked up at him. “Pi Ruan, is this still about your girlfriend?”

“Yes,” the young man replied with a forced smile. “I’m at my wit’s end over this. That’s why I’ve come to you again.”