My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 628: Who is in the Room

Chapter 628: Chapter 628: Who is in the Room

The middle-aged woman had always kept telling Han Fei not to overthink and rest well. She seemed to be the only person in the world who cared for Han Fei, yet Han Fei really couldn’t remember who she was.

That face had no impression on him; to Han Fei, the middle-aged woman was like a stranger.

Having lost almost all his memories, he couldn’t confirm the identities of people around him, nor could he be sure if this was even his own home.

"Don’t get too close to the window," the middle-aged woman guided Han Fei to the side of the bed. Seeing him like this filled her eyes with pain, but she dared not show it, "Dinner will be ready soon. After eating, take a bath; you’ve just come out from the hospital, and there were a lot of patients there."

The middle-aged woman didn’t rush Han Fei; every sentence was to seek his opinion.

After speaking, she went into the kitchen, closing the kitchen door slightly as if intentionally preventing Han Fei from seeing the open flames and various knives.

Not long after, the middle-aged woman brought out two dishes of vegetables to the living room. She set the table and, after everything was ready, helped Han Fei out of the bedroom.

As if to reassure Han Fei, she tasted every dish in front of him, "It won’t taste good once it’s cold."

Staring blankly at the meals on the coffee table, Han Fei felt like a rusted machine. His movements to pick up the chopsticks were somewhat stiff, and even after grasping the vegetables, he didn’t dare to put them into his mouth.

In his mind, an unbidden scene emerged: the middle-aged woman, her face no longer gentle behind the closed kitchen door, her expression fierce as she opened several medicine bottles with torn labels and then crushed various tablets into the food.

"Eat a little at least," prompted by the middle-aged woman’s continuous persuasion, Han Fei eventually picked up his bowl and started eating the vegetables.

He had a large appetite, as if he could keep stuffing food into his stomach until it burst.

As he swallowed the food, the anxious tension of Han Fei eased slightly, and he sat silently in a corner of the couch, repeatedly observing every item in the living room.

Seeing that Han Fei was eating properly, a smile finally appeared on the middle-aged woman’s face, "There’s hot water in the shower. Go take a bath later and then have a good sleep."

"Take a bath..."

Such an event definitely occurred in his memory, but Han Fei couldn’t remember any specific details.

The middle-aged woman placed clean clothes in the bathroom and adjusted the water temperature, "You can just throw your dirty clothes in the washing machine."

Han Fei’s mind was blank; he knew nothing. Everything the woman did seemed to be for his best interest. He felt no resistance to her words, so he followed her hints, doing various things step by step.

The clock on the wall had stopped, the time frozen at one minute past midnight.

Han Fei walked past the furniture within the house in bewilderment, accompanied by the middle-aged woman into the bathroom.

"Don’t be afraid, I’ll be right outside."

The middle-aged woman spoke soothingly to Han Fei before closing the bathroom door.

The floor tiles connected with the wall tiles, the bathroom felt like a sealed box.

Standing still, Han Fei felt as if the ceiling was slowly getting lower, creating an overwhelming sense of oppression.

Before stepping under the shower, Han Fei checked all the electrical sockets, only then daring to turn on the showerhead.

Water droplets soaked his clothes as he stood motionless under the spray. As the blanketing steam rose, a sudden sense of being watched enveloped him.

The feeling was incredibly strong, as if prying eyes were hidden behind the window or lurking within the door crack.

"There is another person in this room."

Han Fei didn’t know why such a thought occurred to him, but he stood in the shower fully clothed, his body becoming stiffer and stiffer. The hot water not only failed to warm him, but it seemed to be continually stripping away his body’s heat.

His breathing gradually became rapid, and Han Fei’s pupils began to tremble quickly. He kept turning around to look behind him, as if there was another person in the bathroom, someone who was always hiding behind him.

"Can’t see it, can’t see it."

His lips quivered slightly, and Han Fei’s heartbeat grew more and more rapid. The calm he had finally managed to find was becoming incredibly agitated again.

Perhaps hearing the noises coming from the bathroom, a middle-aged woman knocked on the door and asked from the entrance.

Sensing something was off with Han Fei, she hurriedly pushed the door open and entered.

Dressed, Han Fei stood under the shower, his face a frightening shade of pale, as if he had drowned.

The middle-aged woman didn’t care about getting wet herself and ran over. She stretched out her hands, full of scratch marks, and placed them on Han Fei’s shoulders, "Han Fei, Han Fei!"

After repeatedly calling out to him, Han Fei finally calmed down. He slowly crouched down and sat on the bathroom floor.

In his blank mind, there were no memories; he only knew his own name.

Seeing Han Fei’s current state, the middle-aged woman felt heartache. She didn’t know how to help him or what to do to alleviate his pain.

"I’ll help you wash."

Han Fei, who had lost his memory, was like a toy, and the middle-aged woman wet his hair with water and helped him wash bit by bit.

The foam slid down his hair, and even though it was about to drip into his eyes, Han Fei still wouldn’t close them. It seemed as if, once he closed his eyes, something terrifying would appear.

"Come, dry yourself off, then change your clothes."

After helping Han Fei rinse off the foam, the middle-aged woman put the showerhead back in its place and signaled for him to rinse off again himself. But Han Fei ignored these complicated instructions; he couldn’t absorb any of it and was just trying very hard not to blink.

It felt as though he was being stubborn with himself, as if by not closing his eyes during the shower he would receive some kind of reward.

The middle-aged woman was used to these things; she patiently talked Han Fei through what he should do next.

It took a full hour for Han Fei to finish showering and get into clean, comfortable new clothes.

Supporting Han Fei back to the bedroom, the middle-aged woman had Han Fei lie on the bed and tucked him in herself.

"Don’t let your thoughts wander, have a good sleep, take a good rest."

The middle-aged woman’s voice carried exhaustion and care as she looked after Han Fei wholeheartedly, treating him as if he were her own child.

Curled up in the blankets, Han Fei wanted to ponder some questions, but he didn’t know where to start. His mind was devoid of any memories; he had forgotten even who he was.

His eyelids grew heavy. Whether from exhaustion or possibly because the middle-aged woman had indeed put a drug in his food, Han Fei slowly fell asleep.

Those without memory are deprived even of the right to dream. Han Fei, in his deep slumber, heard all sorts of strange noises but couldn’t see any images.

He seemed to be walking alone inside a black box where everything was black as far as the eye could see, in all directions.

Staring blankly around him, Han Fei followed those bizarre sounds as he moved, unaware of how long he had been walking when suddenly, the middle-aged woman’s voice rang in his ear.

"The doctor said this illness needs to be treated slowly; you can’t rush it."

"When are you coming home tonight? The clock at home stopped. Remember to bring two AA batteries."

"Hello? What are you talking about? Has something happened over there?"

"Okay! I’ll be right there!"

The voice became clearer and clearer, and Han Fei seemed to suddenly realize something; he abruptly opened his eyes.

Han Fei instinctively looked towards the bedroom door where the middle-aged woman’s face was right next to the door frame; she was holding a phone, looking at Han Fei with a concerned expression.

"Han Fei, I have to go to my night shift now. Your dad will probably come back late today. Don’t run around while you’re home alone; just stay in your own bedroom, okay?"

It was completely dark outside the window. The middle-aged woman waited for a long while, but Han Fei didn’t speak.

She let out a soft sigh and turned to walk towards the living room door, "Remember, do not run around."

The security door opened, and the middle-aged woman, holding her phone and carrying her bag, left.

In this unfamiliar room, only Han Fei was left. He slowly sat up in bed, and a sense of unease gradually washed over him.

"It’s dark..."

A feeling of urgency appeared inexplicably in his body. Han Fei got dressed and got out of bed; he turned on all the lights in the house.

The bright lights did not dispel that strange feeling. Han Fei stood in the corner of the living room, quietly watching the other rooms.

"Where could it be hiding?"

A peculiar question surfaced in his heart, and the more Han Fei thought about it, the more uneasy he became.

Unable to find an answer to the question, he could only stick to the walls to escape, running back to his bedroom and closing the door.

He pressed his ear to the door, listening; the living room was silent, not a sound to be heard.

Han Fei’s heartbeat gradually returned to normal; this room of his brought him a trace of security.

Sitting back on the bed, Han Fei’s hand touched the manuscript papers hidden under the pillow. He looked at them with confusion, and the papers listed stories that seemed as though they had truly happened.

"The name of the second story is ’The Bathroom’. About seven years ago, when I was taking a shower, I accidentally got foam in my eyes. I hurriedly rinsed with clean water, but no matter how much I rinsed, the stinging sensation wouldn’t go away. I tried several times before I managed to open my eyes."

"And then I saw a pair of white hands clutching at my eyeballs."

"The name of the third story is ’The Guest’. From the day I fell ill, someone would knock on my home’s security door every day at 00:01. I told my family about it, and they stayed up until midnight, waiting for the knock, but when they opened the door, there was no one outside."

"The next day at 00:01, no one knocked on the security door of my living room anymore, but my bedroom door kept making banging sounds."

"The name of the fourth story is ’Mom’. Slowly, I discovered something... she actually..."

The manuscript of the fourth story was torn, and Han Fei picked up the pillow, but he couldn’t find the remaining part.

He got up and sat in the chair in front of his desk, picked up the trash can, and found nothing inside, pristine. Then he began opening the drawers one by one.

All these actions were done subconsciously as if he had experienced it before.

After searching for a long time, Han Fei did not find the remaining part. He sat there blankly, looking at a row of books and scripts placed in front of his desk.

"I am someone who loves to read."

His gaze swept over the scripts, and a title of one script caught Han Fei’s attention.

"Mystery Novelist?"

He casually pulled out the script, and as Han Fei picked it up, an employment certificate for passing the interview fell onto the desk.

Han Fei unfolded the employment certificate, which required him to gather at the west gate of Paradise by eight in the morning to receive the doll costume.

"Am I really an actor in a doll costume at Paradise?"

Possibly because being completely wrapped in the doll costume would give Han Fei a sense of security, he’d chosen such a profession.

Focusing intently on the employment certificate, Han Fei felt it was very crucial and must be carefully preserved.

"Eight in the morning..."

While Han Fei’s attention was entirely on the employment certificate, he faintly heard a creaking sound.

The sound was so faint that most people would probably think they’d heard it wrong.

He quickly stashed the employment certificate into his jacket pocket and turned his head to look behind him. The closet door seemed not to be fully closed and was ajar.

His brain went blank, his blood raced through his veins, and his heart started to beat uncontrollably.

After lingering in the chair for a moment, Han Fei walked towards the closet.

His breathing became erratic, and with lips tensed, he slowly approached the closet.

His fingertips touched the door of the closet, but Han Fei hesitated. Terrifying imaginary horrors cropped up in his mind. For instance, upon opening the closet, a hand would reach out and drag him inside; or as the door opened, countless strands of hair would surge out; or a blood-covered child might be hiding inside...

His hand, initially poised to open the door, came to a stop, and he firmly closed the closet again.

His hand hadn’t left the closet when suddenly, the sound of a clock’s second hand ticking resounded in the living room—tick-tock, tick-tock.

Although Han Fei had lost all his past memories, he still remembered what had happened after waking up in the hospital. The middle-aged woman had clearly said that the clock in the house was broken, the time forever frozen at one minute past midnight.

Caught slightly off guard, Han Fei noticed that the closet he had just closed tightly was slightly ajar again.

Perhaps the closet was simply too old and couldn’t be properly secured.

Similar excuses abounded, and though ti seemed like a minor issue, it caused growing unease in Han Fei’s heart.

Not daring to stay in the cramped bedroom any longer, he decisively opened the door and left.

The living room’s lights shone on Han Fei as he scanned his surroundings, his feeling of unease intensifying.

After the middle-aged woman left home, Han Fei had turned on all the lights in the house, but now, when he re-entered the living room, he saw that the bathroom light was off.

"The first story involves the closet; the second story, the bathtub, which is in the bathroom."

His heart pounded furiously, Han Fei backed against the wall, staring at the completely unfamiliar room.

He couldn’t recall anything in his head; his memory had been wiped clean, leaving behind only a name and the instincts of his body.

Holding his breath, Han Fei moved away from the bathroom and towards the living room’s security door, overcome by a strong premonition that staying in this room any longer would certainly get him killed.