[Everyone, brace yourselves. This might be the streamer’s last broadcast.]  

[When we got to the scene, only this video was left.]  

[Holy shit, did you guys hear that creepy laughter? Like a female ghost whispering in your ear with this sinister cackle!]  

[Heard it, but whatever. It’s not like it’s coming for us—it’s here for the streamer.]  

[The uncle next to the streamer looks like he’s about to piss himself.]  

Director Qin’s scalp went numb. Despite his usual composure and steadiness, the sight before him was enough to make his hair stand on end.  

His legs trembled violently, and for a moment, he nearly blacked out from sheer terror.  

Mindful of propriety between men and women, he didn’t cling desperately to Huo Ning’s arm. Instead, he gripped her bag like a drowning man clutching a lifeline.  

Huo Ning: “…”  

She was a little speechless. With a wave of her hand, she drove back several patient ghosts that were lunging to tear into her.  

“Director Qin, could you let go for a second? My weapon’s in the bag.”  

[Huh? A weapon? I’ve never seen the streamer use a weapon before. I’m hyped!]  

[What’s her weapon, anyway? A golden money sword? A horsetail whisk? A fan or a ritual bell?]  

[The streamer’s so elegant and beautiful—it’s gotta be something unique. I’m betting on a flute!]  

[I’ll go with a short xiao!]  

[Ocarina, my vote!]  

[When I cast my vote for the suona, how will you respond?]  

Director Qin’s eyes widened, and he quickly pulled his hands back, eagerly anticipating Huo Ning pulling out some awe-inspiring weapon that would terrify the ghosts.  

Huo Ning gracefully pulled out a brick from her bag.  

Director Qin: “…”  

The viewers: “…”  

[Wait, you call this a weapon?]  

[Elegant! Truly elegant!]  

[I never should’ve expected anything from this woman!]  

[I just wanna know how the hell you’re gonna use this thing. Ghosts are spirits—a brick can’t hurt them, right?]  

Huo Ning channeled spiritual energy into the brick, her expression solemn and focused as she murmured an incantation. A golden light flashed, spreading around her and forming a faint halo.  

A patient ghost with a grotesque face lunged at her, only for its hand to sear with a pitch-black wound, its spirit form sent flying several meters back.

Director Qin stared in shock at the glowing barrier.  

The last time he’d seen something like this was in Journey to the West!  

One of the slightly smarter ghosts, sensing the situation had turned against them, tried to flee through the wall.  

“Trying to run? Not so easy!”  

Huo Ning smirked coldly and hurled the brick straight above their heads.  

Chanting a string of incantations, she flicked her wrist, and the brick moved like a nimble needle, trailing streams of radiant light as if weaving an intricate, dazzling net.  

Purple, gold, green, and pink—the colors twisted, intertwined, and blended like a dreamy gossamer web straight out of a fairy tale, now materializing in the hospital hallway.  

[Damn, my mom just asked why I’m watching this stream on my knees.] 

[Thank you, streamer, this… uh, whatever this is called—this celestial net you wove is so pretty and girly, I’m obsessed!]

[Streamer, are you seriously using a brick like an embroidery needle?!]  

[Holy crap, these special effects are insane. Streamer, ever thought of going to Hollywood?] 

[…Bro, you still think this is special effects?] 

Trapped in the colorful net, the ghosts let out eerie, garbled shrieks, bashing their heads against each other in a chaotic, grotesque frenzy.  

Huo Ning calmly lowered her wrist, caught the brick as it fell from the air, and casually stuffed it back into her bag.  

Then, with a swift hand seal, a faint golden light flickered from her fingertips and settled onto the dreamlike net.  

The mob of restless ghosts in hospital gowns gradually quieted down, lining up in orderly rows before sitting neatly on the floor without a sound.  

At a glance, they looked almost like they were asleep.  

Huo Ning turned to Director Qin, who stood frozen in disbelief. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t stay here.”  

“……”  

Silence was his only reply.  

Director Qin was still slack-jawed, unable to process what he’d just witnessed.  

His entire worldview had been violently shaken today.  

As a hospital director, he had always believed in things beyond scientific explanation.  

But believing and seeing were two entirely different things.  

And seeing one ghost versus seeing a whole crowd? That was a whole other level!  

“Master Huo, you’re truly incredible, I—”  

Director Qin’s admiration for Huo Ning was like an endless, surging river.  

“Not good!”  

Huo Ning’s brows suddenly furrowed. Her fingers twitched in a quick divination, and her expression darkened instantly.  

“Something’s about to happen in the water room. Let’s go!”  

The female ghost’s icy laughter echoed in her ears, piercing like needles.  

“Too late, meddling human master.”

In the water room, Zhou Guokun had just filled a basin with hot water and was yawning sleepily as he headed back.  

Suddenly, a dark, skinny, emaciated young “man” in a hospital gown stained with faint traces of blood appeared before him.  

The “man” looked to be in his early thirties, his face sickly pale, his eyes unfocused and vacant—yet his lips were stretched into a grotesque grin as he stared fixedly at Zhou Guokun.  

Zhou Guokun felt a chill crawl down his spine, his drowsiness instantly vanishing.  

Shuddering, he found the sight deeply unsettling and tried to sidestep the figure. But the man slowly twisted his neck and opened his pitch-black mouth wide at him.  

Under the dim light, the hot water in the basin gradually turned blood-red, and thick clumps of women’s hair began floating to the surface.  

“Ah—!”  

Zhou Guokun screamed, dropping the basin in terror. Half of the scalding water splashed onto his hand.  

Even though it was midsummer and he was wearing shorts and sandals, his skin blistered and turned purple from the burns—yet he seemed numb to the pain, as if his senses had shut down.  

A bruised, scar-covered hand suddenly burst from the floor and clamped around Zhou Guokun’s ankle.  

“Help! Ghost—! Somebody help—!”  

His pupils contracted violently, his body trembling uncontrollably.  

He tried to yank his leg free, but he could feel the hand yanking him down with terrifying strength—  

It was trying to drag him into the crack in the floor!  

“Hel—!”  

Zhou Guokun strained to turn his neck, desperately looking toward the “man” in the hospital gown for help.  

The man slowly, mechanically tilted his head and grinned.  

“Ah—!”  

Zhou Guokun’s face twisted in agony.  

Half of his foot had already been dragged into the crevice.  

He shut his eyes in despair.  

“Break!”  

A golden talisman shot through the air, striking the hand gripping his ankle.  

The hand let out a bloodcurdling shriek, as if scalded by molten iron, and instantly recoiled like it had been electrocuted.  

Zhou Guokun gasped as if reborn, collapsing onto the floor, panting heavily.  

His blurred vision gradually focused, and as he looked up at the slender figure approaching from the distance, he felt like he was gazing at a savior bathed in holy light.

Huo Ning stood against the light, casually tossing a brick in her hand.  

With a tilt of her head, she hurled the brick straight at the “man” in the hospital gown.  

This wasn’t some unfamiliar ghost—it was the same vengeful spirit that had been lurking behind Granny earlier.  

Huo Ning clicked her tongue. “I gave you a chance, but you wasted it. I already let you go once.”  

Thud.

The brick hit the ground, and the ghost shattered into nothingness.  

Zhou Guokun stared, dumbfounded. Tonight had forced him to rebuild his entire worldview, his psyche battered like never before.  

Director Qin helped him up, frowning. “Didn’t we warn everyone not to leave their rooms tonight? There’s hot water in the wards—why did you come to the water room?”  

Huo Ning recognized Zhou Guokun as the staunchly materialist uncle who had asked Song Zhen earlier if she’d been “scammed by some scumbag.”  

Zhou Guokun shrank under Director Qin’s stern gaze, mumbling, “I… I thought the water in the ward wasn’t hot enough.”  

[This uncle really has a death wish.] 

[Bet he won’t complain about ‘cold water’ next time!]

[Streamer, you’re amazing. Watching your streams is pure entertainment.] 

[Right? She’s fierce yet sweet, and her personality is—HOLY SHIT STREAMER LOOK OUT!]  

[AHHHH! BEHIND YOU!]  

A ghastly pale hand, streaked with blood, suddenly shot out from the white wall behind Huo Ning.  

“Humans and their meddling ways… This will be your grave!”  

The female ghost’s voice dripped with malice as it cackled.  

All this scheming to lure the human girl to the water room hadn’t been for nothing.  

Humans were so laughable.  

Those overflowing with sympathy—they all deserved to die!