My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 632: Unfamiliar Parents

Chapter 632: Chapter 632: Unfamiliar Parents

The security guard pulled Han Fei from the stuffed coat and tied him to the stretcher with restraining straps, before several people worked together to lift him into the ambulance.

Throughout this entire process, the man with half-white hair didn’t step forward to stop them; he seemed like a very rational person, knowing that the only way to solve the problem was to get Han Fei to the hospital as quickly as possible.

So he just stood around Han Fei, like the other onlookers.

The ambulance door was closed by the doctor, and Han Fei finally didn’t have to endure those odd stares anymore; he slowly calmed down.

The doctor in the white coat began to bandage his arms, and when everyone saw the densely packed wounds on Han Fei’s arms, they were also quite shocked.

"Doctor Old Han, your son’s condition has worsened again," a doctor inside the ambulance, who recognized the man with half-white hair, said as he meticulously treated Han Fei’s wounds to prevent infection. "So many wounds, it will take a long time to cleanse them."

"It’s all my fault, all my fault..." The man referred to as Doctor Old Han muttered to himself, as though there were hidden reasons for Han Fei’s condition.

The ambulance quickly reached a hospital not far from Paradise, and Han Fei was taken to the fourth floor of the hospital.

"Doctor Fu, the patient who was discharged yesterday has had a relapse," the doctor from the ambulance briefly reported Han Fei’s situation to Doctor Fu. "He escaped from his home alone and after daybreak, he ran back into Paradise."

As Han Fei’s previous attending physician, he was very familiar with Han Fei’s condition: "Did he hurt anyone this time?"

"He scratched his own arms, I’ve already treated the wounds."

"Are they severe?"

"They were all self-inflicted, numerous, but the wounds weren’t deep. It was as though he was deliberately experiencing the feeling of pain," the doctor pointed at Han Fei’s arms and said.

"A tendency for self-harm? Was it caused by severe ’Illusion’, or some other reason?" Doctor Fu frowned in thought; he had never encountered such a difficult patient.

After pondering for a moment, Doctor Fu looked up at the man with half-white hair: "Doctor Old Han, what exactly did your son do in the past? Are you hiding something from us?"

Doctor Old Han shook his head: "I’ve told you everything."

"Are you sure?" Doctor Fu rested his chin on his hands, his eyes fixed on Han Fei’s father: "Only intense stimulation or physical impact could cause memory loss and brain function disorder in a patient..."

"You suspect that I am deliberately concealing his condition? If it could save my child, I would give anything!" Doctor Old Han said decisively.

"I have no such intentions," Doctor Fu said, spreading his hands: "Let’s not talk about this. Recently, the number of unidentified bodies in the city has been increasing, and as a forensic doctor you must be quite busy, so I won’t take up more of your valuable time."

"I will wait until Han Fei’s mother arrives before I leave," said Doctor Old Han, very coldly, with his temperamental nature.

Half an hour later, the middle-aged woman who had brought Han Fei back home appeared. She accompanied Han Fei to receive treatment from Doctor Fu, and Doctor Old Han left early.

The treatment continued until one in the afternoon, yet Han Fei still could not recall anything. He didn’t even know his parents’ names, and looked at them as if he was meeting them for the first time.

"You must keep taking the medication. Although his behavior still significantly differs from a normal person’s, he has learned self-restraint. At least this time, he did not harm any innocent people, which is already a great improvement," Doctor Fu told the middle-aged woman a lot, but in summary, it was just one phrase—the medication absolutely must not be stopped.

Seeing some improvement in her son’s condition, the middle-aged woman repeatedly thanked Doctor Fu. She followed Doctor Fu deeper into the hospital, apparently to collect new medication.

Han Fei sat alone on the hospital bed, realizing that whenever he entered the hospital, he would feel extremely uneasy inside.

This place was clearly meant to save lives and heal wounds, yet it made him feel as if he was surrounded by murderous intent at every turn.

Remaining vigilant at all times, Han Fei seemed to be daydreaming while he actually observed everyone who passed by him closely.

Whether they were doctors or nurses and caregivers, they would all take an extra look at him as they passed by.

Their gazes made Han Fei feel particularly uncomfortable, as if they were looking at an alien species, or to be more precise, as if humans were looking at something harmful.

Feeling restless, Han Fei clasped his hands together, forcing himself not to be afraid and trying hard to think.

"The middle-aged man with half black and white hair claimed to be my father, a forensic doctor, but he seems to be hiding something from my attending doctor," Han Fei’s brows furrowed together, uncertain of whom in the world would truly help him. As someone with amnesia, he always felt as though everyone in the world wanted to kill him. It was as if everyone were in a tacit agreement, playing a game where Han Fei’s only task was to not get killed and survive to the end, while the task of others was to personally kill him.

Due to exerting too much force, blood flowed from his arms again, but physical pain meant little to Han Fei.

"It seems that I am used to pain, but judging from the scripts and books in my bedroom, I should be a screenwriter or an actor. Could it be that I’ve always had a habit of harming myself?"

"Han Fei, let’s go home," a middle-aged woman’s voice came from the other side of the corridor, carrying a package of medicine in her hand.

Seeing those medicine bottles triggered the urge to flee in Han Fei, who viewed all the medication as poison that would kill him upon ingestion.

"This medicine will have some side effects, and its impact on the body is quite strong. Try to take it immediately after meals, and you can increase the dosage of the other types as well," Doctor Fu wrote a prescription and handed it to the middle-aged woman, then turned to Han Fei: "He indeed seems to have recovered a lot, which indicates that the treatment is effective."

Doctor Fu’s casual remark instilled in Han Fei a sense of deep meaning behind it – perhaps Doctor Fu’s treatment wasn’t intended to cure him, and Doctor Han’s concealment might not necessarily be for his own benefit.

With amnesia, Han Fei would not trust these people. The choices before him ranged from bad to worse to absolute worst.

The middle-aged woman appeared much happier after hearing Doctor Fu’s words, and she took Han Fei out of the hospital.

Similar to the scene on the first day, the woman led Han Fei back home. She asked Han Fei to rest on the couch first, while she went into the kitchen to cook.

The middle-aged woman took great care of Han Fei, attentively looking after him – a kind of care that was completely foreign to Han Fei, with no such figure ever appearing in his memory.

"Is she really my mother?" Han Fei’s recollection of his parents was vague, he tried to remember, but his mind was blank.

"What exactly was written on the half-torn page of the script? If she is not my mother, then she must have destroyed the whole story after seeing the script, and definitely would not have just torn off the most crucial part..." With hands clasped together, a guess emerged in Han Fei’s mind: "Could it be that I was the one who tore it off? Did I hide that most important part somewhere?"

Han Fei was actually very resistant to coming home, reminded of the various things he encountered the night before as soon as he entered the house.

He knew this place was extremely dangerous, but he had to return because it contained traces of his life; he had to find his lost memories himself.

Soon, the middle-aged woman finished cooking, placing two dishes of vegetables on the table.

"Vegetables again?" Looking at the meal, the same as yesterday’s, Han Fei felt like this home was a terrifying loop from which he needed to figure out a way to escape.

"These are your favorite dishes," the middle-aged woman said tenderly to Han Fei: "If you want to change the taste, I can make something else for you tomorrow."

"My favorite is vegetarian food?" Han Fei took a mouthful of vegetables, finding the woman’s cooking delicious, yet he still felt she was lying.

Rather than vegetables, his inherent instinct told him he preferred meat, something he could munch and chew heartily.

After Han Fei finished his meal, the woman collected the dishes and went into the kitchen.

Han Fei, who had been sitting idly on the sofa, immediately stood up. To prevent the middle-aged woman from discovering him, he ran straight back to his bedroom and closed the door.

Grabbing the trash can, Han Fei found a bag to cover it with, and started forcing himself to vomit, trying to expel everything he had just eaten.

Doctor Fu had instructed the middle-aged woman to make sure the most potent medicine was taken immediately after meals, but the woman, seeing that Han Fei had finished eating, didn’t bring up the topic of taking his medicine at all. It was very likely that the medicine had been mixed into the food.

Besides, the middle-aged woman headed straight for the kitchen upon entering the house. She had the medication with her when she entered, but when she came out of the kitchen, the medicine was nowhere to be seen.

"Last time after eating, I felt extremely drowsy and slept until the evening. When I woke up, the entire house was filled with ghosts. It’s very likely there was something wrong with the meal."

Having sealed the bag, Han Fei hid it in the deepest part of his closet, then quickly restored everything to its previous state.

Calculating in his mind the time it took for him to fall asleep during the previous incident, Han Fei quietly lay down on his bed and pretended to sleep.

About twenty minutes later, the bedroom door swung open. The middle-aged woman removed her apron, tucked Han Fei in properly, and then sat beside him for a long time.

"We also don’t know whether what we’re doing is right or wrong, but some mistakes, once started, can never be stopped. Maybe your becoming like this is a form of punishment from God."

Apart from love, the middle-aged woman’s eyes were filled with deep pain and guilt.

"You will get better, become a better version of yourself."

After saying this, she got up and left. Then Han Fei heard the sound of the middle-aged woman making a phone call in the living room.

"Staying underground all the time won’t arouse their suspicions? What tools do you need me to bring over? Okay, I will clean up the basement level."

After hanging up the phone, the woman searched around the living room for a while, and then left the house.

"I might really be an actor; I can feign sleep so naturally, even my breathing remains steady."

Han Fei opened his eyes. He opened the closet, first cleaned up the vomit thoroughly, destroying the evidence, and then stood in the middle of the living room.

"It’s two o’clock in the afternoon now; there’s still a long time until it gets dark."

As long as it wasn’t dark, Han Fei didn’t feel too scared being alone at home. He felt that many strange events probably started at night.

"Let’s take a look at the things I’ve left behind." Han Fei picked up the script from the table, and he realized that he was supposed to be a horror movie screenwriter. All the scripts he wrote were horror stories, and together with those that were unfinished and damaged, there were exactly ninety-nine ghost stories.

"This number ninety-nine again?"

Many of the scripts were just one-liners, or seemed like inspirations jotted down offhand, and it was hard to discern any connections among them. Han Fei could only rely on his excellent memory to memorize them all.

"The sixth story—the tenant, that woman moved in in July, and her belly grew larger by the day,"

"These stories take place in various parts of the city, many of which read as if they’re real."

After finishing with the scripts, Han Fei turned to the books. He flipped through each book, one by one, checking for any notes at the places marked with bookmarks.

When he picked up Salinger’s "Heart of Broken Stories," he found the bookmark at a specific page. Upon opening it, there was a marked line in the book.

"Some people think love is sex, marriage, a kiss at six in the morning, a bunch of children, maybe it is, Miss Lester. But do you know what I think? I think love is the hand that wants to touch but retracts."

"What does that mean?" Han Fei tried to recall, and suddenly, a scene flashed through his mind.

This morning, when that child’s mother saw his face, she instinctively drew closer, then rationally maintained her distance.

"Thinking along these lines?" Han Fei shook his head, "I’m indeed not quite right."

Glancing at the time, Han Fei vaguely remembered the words the middle-aged woman had said on the phone: "Who was she talking to? Bringing tools over? And cleaning up the basement level?"

After hesitating for a moment, Han Fei decided to go take a look; after all, he was going to leave this place sooner or later.

Packing all the scripts and key books into a backpack, Han Fei opened the living room door and walked out.

"Before it gets dark, I can still suppress the fear in my heart, but once it’s dark, I’m afraid I will be completely overwhelmed by fear. I must make good use of this time."

Han Fei entered the emergency passage and silently walked downstairs, soon arriving at the first floor.

"The basement level..."

Just glancing toward the basement made Goosebumps erupt on Han Fei’s skin, and every cell in his body resisted the idea of continuing downward, as if something terrifying was hidden down there.

However, strangely, he felt infinitely familiar with the staircase leading to the basement, as if he had walked it countless times.

Drawn by instinct, Han Fei entered the pitch-black basement corridor. Just as he was about to continue forward, he suddenly heard footsteps.

Without time to think, Han Fei quickly hid in the room closest to him.

A faint strange smell wafted into his nostrils, and an idea struck Han Fei, "Is this the smell of formalin?"

He wasn’t sure why he was familiar with the scent of formalin; according to reason, his professions should be screenwriter and actor.

Holding his breath, a shadow passed in the darkness, unaware of his presence.

Suppressing the fear in his heart, Han Fei followed the shadow for a few steps and saw bloodstains that had not been cleaned up properly and some wildly scrawled red text on the ground.

"Is that person cleaning up the bloodstains downstairs?"

Han Fei covered his mouth and followed, but at that moment, the shadow stopped in its tracks.

She took out her phone and answered a call.

Han Fei couldn’t hear clearly what the person on the other end of the phone was saying, but he heard the shadow’s voice.

"Is the body hard to deal with? I can’t come over right now, there’s still a lot of blood to clean up... Okay, I understand," she said.

The shadow cleaning up bloodstains in the basement was the middle-aged woman who claimed to be Han Fei’s mother.