Chapter Seventy-Two: The Mirror World

The sound of knocking came from directly in front of Fang Tang’s chest, echoing through the empty hall with an uncanny strangeness.

With the calmness he’d been granted, Fang Tang’s heartbeat remained steady, his emotional fluctuations significantly dampened. Even so, he couldn’t suppress a chill of terror. After all, it was his first encounter with a ‘ghost’; his reaction was understandable.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and Fang Tang blinked, hoping his ‘eyes’ would offer some explanation.

This is a psychiatric hospital! You can’t judge by the logic of ordinary people. Think about it: what is a ghost in the eyes of a mentally ill person? Here’s a hint—the rules here are fascinating, and what’s in front of you is also a product of those rules.

A ghost in the eyes of the mentally ill? How would I know! I’m not insane...

Fang Tang grumbled inwardly, fixing his gaze ahead as he reached out toward the unseen ghost.

“Hello, I’m Fang Tang.”

No response.

His voice lingered and faded in the vast hall—nothing else replied. For a moment, Fang Tang felt like a lunatic.

His hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a long while before he drew it back, somewhat embarrassed. Since the ‘ghost’ before him had no interest in conversation, there was no point wasting time. Better to search for clues.

He strode toward the corridor on the left—the one the ‘ghost’ had already knocked on, so it should be safe. As he moved, the ‘ghost’ followed, returning with him to the left corridor.

Fang Tang glanced nonchalantly at the footsteps behind him, then paid them no further mind.

The corridor ran north to south, with two rows of ten rooms—evens to the south, odds to the north. Fang Tang surveyed the area: some doors were locked, some swung open at a touch.

He glanced behind him on instinct. The ‘ghost’ was still there, keeping a constant half-meter’s distance.

“If only I could see it,” he muttered, pushing open the door to Room 01 at the end of the corridor.

Creeeaak!

Like the main entrance, the room’s door emitted a sharp, grating sound. Fang Tang was about to step inside when the ‘ghost’ suddenly tugged at his sleeve, as if trying to bar his entry.

“What is it?” Fang Tang turned, uncertain. Not knowing its height, he simply addressed the empty air at eye level, “Am I not allowed in?”

No answer.

But the grip on his sleeve tightened further.

Fang Tang glanced down at the wrinkled fabric, raising his eyebrows.

“I can’t see you or hear you, and for all I know, you might not even be speaking. If you want to help me, you should let go first. Maybe I can find a way to see you, and then we’ll be able to communicate, won’t we?”

His tone was gentle, and it seemed to have an effect—the hand released his sleeve.

“If there’s danger inside, don’t worry about me. I’m quite capable myself!” Fang Tang smiled warmly at the air, then turned and entered Room 01.

It was small—just a bed, a desk, and a chair, all neatly arranged and spotless. It was as if this room belonged to a different world from the dust outside. The walls were pristine too—no sign of fire damage.

Fang Tang inspected the three pieces of furniture but found nothing useful.

Room 02, across the hall, was locked. He considered forcing it open, but his ‘eyes’ stopped him.

The game world can’t be destroyed?

“Game…” Fang Tang chuckled softly and moved on.

Room 03 was also locked, so he tried Room 04 across the corridor.

This room clearly showed signs of a past fire, though it had been tidied up. Even the charred desk was neatly arranged.

In the center of the desk lay a folder with just one medical report inside. It documented a girl named Chu Chu—mentally sound, physically healthy, approved for discharge.

Fang Tang instinctively glanced at the doorway.

The footsteps remained rooted at the threshold, as if unable to enter.

He pocketed the report and left, continuing his search for clues.

Rooms 05 and 06 faced each other, but only Room 05 was accessible. Like Room 01, it was spotless, but offered no information.

Undeterred, Fang Tang entered Room 08.

By now, he had grasped the pattern.

Rooms on each side of the corridor faced each other, but only one in each pair could be opened. Odd-numbered rooms were pristine; even-numbered ones were only roughly cleaned and held clues.

In Room 08, Fang Tang found an electronic card with a doctor’s credentials.

“It’s a bit like an escape room game,” he mused, rubbing his nose.

He never cared for these games, always preferring to consult walkthroughs for a quick win. So, he rarely played them himself.

But this time, he’d been pulled into a real one.

For a moment, Fang Tang felt irritated. He hated trouble most of all!

Leaving Room 08, he headed diagonally to Room 09.

The accessible rooms formed a ‘W’ pattern—the odd numbers all on one side. The sparse furnishings of Room 09 confirmed his hypothesis.

“Hmm, can you give me a hint?” Fang Tang didn’t consult his ‘eyes’ for help, but instead, clutching the card and report, he addressed the footprints at the door.

No answer.

After a moment, with his curiosity fading, Fang Tang crossed the hall to the right corridor.

This corridor mirrored the left—ten rooms, odds and evens facing each other. But here, the open doors were opposite those on the left.

And as he stepped into the unlocked Room 12, Fang Tang felt a strange sense of familiarity.

As if… he’d been here before.

He shifted the chair slightly, dragging it across the floor.

At the same time, he heard the sound of a chair scraping in the left corridor.

Startled, Fang Tang peeked out of the room and glanced left.

Nothing.

But something felt wrong.

He glimpsed, fleetingly, a little girl in a white dress standing at the corridor entrance. Her head drooped heavily, long hair hanging limp.

Gulp!

Fang Tang swallowed hard, only then noticing the footprints hadn’t followed him.

“Is that the ghost who was following me just now?”

This building is fascinating. Each floor has its own special rule. The rule on this floor is called the Mirror World. As you’ve noticed, the left and right corridors are mirror images of each other. The north and south rows of rooms are also mirrors, though there are still differences; you must discern which is real and which is false. Friendly advice, old friend: the left corridor is the calmest place in the building. The right corridor… not so much.

“What do you mean?” Fang Tang’s heart tightened as he turned sharply to look down the right corridor.

Suddenly, the fluorescent lights in the hallway began to flicker. Heavy breathing and a low, chilling laugh echoed through the quiet corridor.

At the same time, Fang Tang heard a whisper, as if right beside his ear.

“At last, you’ve come. I’ve been watching you in the mirror for a long time.”