The doctor had been severely sleep-deprived lately. Not just a little—he was completely drained, all because he had become addicted to online games. To be precise, it was SNS social games, the kind that involved planting and stealing crops, trading friends, and fighting for parking spots. 

These games had taken the internet by storm, with millions of people hooked. As someone who prided himself on staying trendy, the doctor was naturally among those caught in the craze.

Though his indulgence seemed to have crossed a line.

He had always been a perfectionist, someone who had to excel at everything he did.

So much so that he set alarms to wake up in the middle of the night to steal virtual crops. Lately, he didn’t even need the alarm; his body had tuned itself to the game’s rhythm, jolting him awake at the exact moments when his virtual farm needed tending. In severe cases, he stayed awake all night.

It was no surprise that he spent his working hours in a constant state of exhaustion.

“Hey! Wake up! The morning meeting’s already over.” Someone tapped the doctor’s head with a stethoscope, again and again, clearly enjoying themselves.

The doctor struggled to lift his head from the desk and let out a lazy yawn. Standing before him was his college friend. The two of them had ended up working at the same hospital after graduation. 

This guy, two days older than him, was named Chun Ge. The doctor jokingly called him Chun-ge—as in brother Chun. Whenever he loudly called “Chun-ge” in the hospital, it always drew a lot of attention. To which most people might understand his intention of calling him “Brother of Spring” upon hearing it.

“Were you on the night shift yesterday? Why do you look so exhausted?” Chun Ge asked with concern, “During the meeting just now, the chief was glaring at you like he wanted to throw you on the operating table and dissect you alive!”

The doctor ruffled his tousled hair and grinned, “That’s because he found out this morning that I stole his crops, right?” 

Their chief was a stern and serious middle-aged man, someone they often joked about in private. But who would’ve thought that even someone as serious as the chief would get sucked into the world of online games?

“You…” Chun Ge shook his head helplessly. He wanted to lecture him but realized he had already said everything there was to say over the past few days. So he sighed and said, “Just be careful. You need to stay focused at all times, not thinking about stealing crops during surgery!”

Chun Ge’s eyes revealed his concern. Having known the doctor for nearly a decade, he was aware that the doctor’s mental state had been abnormal recently.

He also knew the reason—it likely had to do with an unexpected surgery last month. Due to the doctor’s mistake, the patient experienced massive bleeding during the procedure.

Although the patient was resuscitated and discharged just a week ago, the doctor himself had never bounced back. He had even started playing online games he once despised, which was entirely out of character for him.

Chun Ge wanted to say a few more words to comfort his friend, but the words transformed into a sigh before they could leave his lips.

The doctor kept his head down and forced a chuckle. He knew exactly what everyone was thinking. But how could Chun Ge possibly understand what he was feeling? 

Unless someone had been through something like this themselves, they had no right to lecture him. Even the chief had pulled him aside for a talk, reassuring him that surgical complications were sometimes unavoidable. But for someone like him, who demanded perfection in everything, this was a stain he could never erase.

“She’s here again…” Chun Ge glanced toward the hallway, spotting the woman standing outside. He sighed and shook his head. The doctor slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his disheveled hair, and frowned his brow unconsciously. 

The young woman was the patient he had nearly lost during that surgery. Though she had been discharged, she knew the procedure hadn’t gone smoothly, and now she came to the hospital every day for checkups.

And he, of course, was the one responsible. The examinations were nothing more than routine, not particularly complicated. But every time he met her gaze—those eyes that seemed to see right through him—he was overwhelmed with guilt.

She must be blaming him, right?

The doctor knew he was in a slump, but ever since he studied medicine and became an intern, the string in his heart had been stretched too tight. No one could truly understand the immense pressure he had endured. He was like a bowstring stretched beyond its limit. Although it hadn’t snapped, its resilience had long since gone.

Letting out a deep breath, he stood up, forced a small smile, and walked toward her.

After his shift, the doctor found himself heading toward Ya She, as he often did. He wasn’t particularly close to the owner, but ever since he’d stumbled into the place by chance, he’d been drawn to it.

He knew nothing about antiques, but the owner of Ya She was easy to talk to. He still remembered two years ago, when he’d just graduated and started his residency. The stress had been overwhelming, and for some reason, he’d poured out all his frustrations to the owner. The man had simply listened with a smile, never once showing the slightest hint of irritation.

Since then, Yasha became a sanctuary for him. Even on days when he said nothing at all, just sitting quietly in the shop made him feel at ease.

It was strange. 

He had never once bought anything from Ya She, yet the owner always treated him kindly. If it were anyone else, he would have been kicked out long ago.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, he spotted Ya She’s antique wooden sign up ahead. Pushing open the heavy, intricately carved wooden door, he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in white out of the corner of his eye. 

But when he turned to look, there was nothing there.

Could be his imagination.

He smiled to himself and stepped inside.

The moment he disappeared into Ya She, the white figure emerged once more from the street corner.

It was a woman, watching the place where the doctor had gone with a complex expression.

If the doctor could see, he would realize that this woman was the very patient he had been responsible for.

Inside Ya She, it was still as dim and filled with a captivating scent of agarwood.

The doctor took a deep breath. He had always thought the scent he loved most was formalin, but to his surprise, the rich aroma of agarwood had a way of calming his mind as well.

“Welcome.”

The young shop owner sitting behind the counter closed his book and stood up with a smile. As always, he was dressed in a black Tang suit, embroidered with a deep red dragon. The dragon’s long body coiled twice around his waist, its head resting on the left side of his chest, baring its fangs in a fierce snarl.

Looks like he owns quite a few of these. The doctor mused idly.

“You don’t seem to be in good spirits. Is something troubling you?” The young owner’s smile deepened, his almond-shaped eyes seemed to see through the doctor’s worries but chose not to mention them outright.

“Ah, it’s just trouble sleeping.” The doctor quickly slipped into his usual mode and plopped down on the chair in front of the counter. He sat down gently, remembering the chair was made of some sort of huanghuali wood, a Ming Dynasty antique, and pretty expensive at that.

Not that he could tell if it was authentic.

According to the owner, every item in the shop was steeped in history and was worth a fortune. Even the lighting came from oil lamps. In all the times he had visited, he had never once seen an electrical outlet.

What kind of era is this?

Are there still people living without electricity?

The owner pondered for a moment before asking, “Having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, do you have any incense here that helps with sleep?” the doctor half-joked. 

As a medical professional, he naturally wouldn’t take sleeping pills so easily. But at this point, his poor sleep was starting to affect his daily life.

He had never had trouble sleeping before. Yet ever since last month, he had been waking up multiple times a night. Over and over, he dreamt of that disastrous surgery, with the woman lying beneath his scalpel, drenched in blood.

Of course, he didn’t hold much hope in the owner’s answer. He’d only asked on a whim. To his surprise, the owner responded almost immediately, “I don’t have incense, but I do have a pillow that can help you fall asleep quickly.”

“Seriously?” the doctor asked skeptically.

“Have you ever heard of the story of ‘The Dream of the Yellow Millet’?” The owner turned and walked into the back room, his voice still carrying through. 

“Back in the Tang Dynasty, there was a scholar named Lu Sheng. On his way to the capital for the imperial exams, he stopped at an inn and met a Taoist named Lu Weng. Lu Sheng lamented his life of poverty and hardship. 

Lu Weng, after hearing his woes, took out a pillow and gave it to Lu Sheng, saying, ‘Use this pillow when you sleep tonight, and your dreams will bring you contentment.’ By then, it was late, and the innkeeper had started cooking millet.”

“I remember this story,” the doctor continued, “then Lu Sheng fell asleep on the pillow and dreamed that he passed the imperial exam, married a beautiful wife, became a military governor, won battles, eventually became a prime minister, and enjoyed a life of wealth and honor. Over the age of 80, he fell seriously ill and was on the verge of death when he suddenly woke up, realizing it was all just a dream.”

“And at that moment, the millet was still cooking,” the owner emerged from behind the jade screen with a brocade box in his hand. “That is the origin of ‘The Dream of the Yellow Millet,’ and this is the very pillow that Lu Weng gave to Lu Sheng, known as the Yellow Millet Pillow.”

The doctor nearly burst into laughter. It was just a fable, a metaphor for life’s fleeting illusions. Whether Lu Sheng had ever truly existed was debatable—so how could his pillow still be around?

However, the doctor held back his laughter out of respect for the owner. Though he didn’t believe a word of it, when the owner placed the brocade box on the counter and opened it, the doctor still leaned in to take a look.

Inside was a porcelain pillow, with a lustrous green glaze, as fine as jade—clearly a top-quality item. 

The doctor knew he was an amateur and had no clue about its historical value, but one thing was obvious to him. “A porcelain pillow? Can you even sleep comfortably on this? I’d probably stay awake all night trying to sleep on it.”

“Take it home and try it. I’ll lend it to you for a few days, just handle it with care,” the owner smiled slightly and added, “Just remember one thing, if you were to wake up in the middle of the night, don’t immediately go back to sleep using this pillow. Otherwise, sweet dreams might turn into nightmares, and nightmares might come true.” 

The doctor never believed in superstitions, but the owner’s generosity made it hard to refuse. After all, he had started the conversation. Declining now would seem ungracious. So he thanked the owner, picked up the box, and headed for the door.

Just before leaving, something occurred to him. He turned back and asked, “By the way, what happened to Lu Sheng after his dream?”

The owner grinned, his almond-shaped eyes narrowing slightly with an enigmatic expression. “After experiencing that dream, Lu Sheng attained enlightenment and never again sought the imperial exams, retreating into the mountains to practice Taoism.”

The doctor’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the brocade box.

When he got home, he spent a few minutes playing with Apache, who wagged his tail excitedly upon his return. After a quick meal, he flipped through a few medical case studies. Unable to resist, he then turned on his computer and started playing games.

Successfully stealing eight carrots from the chief’s farm, the doctor smiled with satisfaction. 

The chief’s avatar was an adorable little boy, whom the doctor believed to be the chief’s five-year-old son. He had found the chief through the search function and had persistently sent friend requests for five days before finally being accepted.

Just as he was about to walk away, a system notification popped up on the webpage. When he clicked on it, he found a new friend request. The profile picture was a serious-looking one-inch ID photo—it was none other than Chun Ge.

“Didn’t expect you to get into this too!” the doctor chuckled, approving the request. 

Chun Ge’s account was newly registered, with a pitifully low level and no crops in his garden to steal. The doctor smirked mischievously, the doctor opened the “Friend Trading” feature and bought Chun Ge at a low price. These kinds of games were the most fun when played with people you knew.

He then checked his own garden again, estimated the ripening times for his carrots, corn, tomatoes, and strawberries, and found that nothing could be harvested that night.

Sighing, he hoped he’d sleep soundly through the night. After a shower, he walked to his bed and suddenly remembered the porcelain pillow the shop owner had lent him earlier.

What harm could it do to try it?

The doctor opened the brocade box, carefully took out the porcelain pillow, and placed it on the bed. After a moment of hesitation, he lay down.

It felt cool and hard. But due to the grooves on the pillow perfectly matching the curves of the human body, he found it surprisingly comfortable.

Soon, he fell into a deep sleep.

When the doctor opened his eyes, the clock on the wall showed it was only 11 p.m. He’d only been asleep for a little over two hours, but the quality of his sleep had been excellent. He sat up without a hint of a headache. Maybe the pillow really did work.

Apache, who had been sleeping under the bed, lifted his head to glance at his owner, then shook his head and shifted into a more comfortable position before going back to sleep.

The doctor, feeling a bit hungry, walked to the kitchen and grabbed the leftover burger from the night before. But the moment he opened the fridge, he froze.

Inside, neatly stacked, was a pile of fresh carrots. They were still damp with soil, their vibrant orange glistening with moisture as if they had just been pulled from the ground.

Not too little, not too many; exactly eight carrots. 

The doctor was momentarily bewildered and slammed the fridge door shut.

It must be an illusion, right? 

He tried to convince himself. However, he was sure that he hadn’t bought any carrots that night.

And as someone who absolutely despised carrots, there was no way he would have brought them home.

Taking a deep breath, the doctor opened the fridge again, and there the eight carrots remained, perfectly arranged.

What’s going on?

How could his fridge produce vegetables?

The doctor shivered and quickly dismissed the thought from his mind.

Maybe he had forgotten? 

The doctor refused to let his imagination run wild. He took the carrots out of the fridge and went downstairs to place them in the yard of a neighbor who kept a few rabbits in a cage. But when he walked back into his apartment, he suddenly sensed someone inside.

“Who’s there?” the doctor grabbed the long-handled umbrella from beside the door.

“Master, I’ve brought you a late-night snack,” Wearing an apron, Chun Ge walked out of the kitchen with a beaming smile. He was a broad-shouldered, muscular man, yet for some reason, he was wearing a pink apron adorned with frilly lace.

He was a burly man, yet he wore a frilly pink apron with an oversized Happy Lamb character on the chest. The apron didn’t fit him at all! Paired with the out-of-place, gentle “motherly” smile on his rugged face, it sent a wave of goosebumps dancing across the doctor’s skin.

“What…what did you call me?” The doctor was caught between putting down the umbrella, gripping it tighter, or just outright smacking Chun Ge on the head with it.

“Master! Didn’t you buy me? I made you dinner, come and try it.” Chun Ge took the umbrella from the doctor, led him to the dining table, and firmly seated him, gazing at him with a sycophantic smile. 

The doctor stared blankly at the lavish feast laid out before him. The aroma was enticing, yet he had absolutely no appetite.

Was this a joke? 

But Chun Ge’s expression was entirely earnest.

So… this was real?

The doctor’s throat felt dry, and his hands and feet were cold—this was terrifying!

“Is Master not satisfied? Hmm… How can I please you? Give you spa services? A back rub? A foot massage? A manicure?” Chun Ge tilted his head in thought, pursing his lips in an expression straight out of a cute maid’s playbook.

Indeed, the game had this option where slaves could please their masters… 

Stop! What the hell was he thinking?! 

A shiver ran down the doctor’s spine as Chun Ge, having made his decision, prepared to give him a massage. He was going to pass out! 

Could he exchange him for a female slave instead? 

The doctor struggled desperately, but Chun Ge was relentless. Physically, he was no match for him.

Meanwhile, Apache, his dog, was absolutely no help—if anything, the little traitor was watching the scene unfold with great interest, occasionally letting out a bark or two. 

Was he cheering for his owner or for Chun Ge?! 

Just as their scuffle reached its peak, Chun Ge suddenly stopped. He straightened up, removed the apron, and stood there.

The doctor instinctively took several steps back, eyeing him warily. Nearly shrieking, he asked, “What are you trying to do?!”

Chun Ge sighed regretfully, “Too bad, I’ve been bought by someone else and need to go to my new master’s house right away.” Without another word, he turned and left. 

The doctor was left dumbfounded, his face twisted in confusion. The moment he heard the door close, he rushed over, bolted it shut, then sprinted back to his bedroom and turned on his computer.

Going online, he entered the website. Sure enough, all his slaves were gone—Chun Ge had just been bought by the chief. 

Was Chun Ge really heading to the chief’s house at this hour?

He couldn’t even begin to imagine it. At the same time, he felt a wave of relief. He also wondered, if he bought others, would they really come to serve him? 

And if he stole ginseng or rare herbs in the game, would they appear in his fridge too?

The doctor couldn’t resist such temptation and sat down at his computer.

Just as he’d suspected, every slave he bought in the game showed up at his door within ten minutes, whether he knew them or not. 

Every vegetable he stole in the game—from cabbage to ginseng—appeared in his fridge. 

Every car he acquired in the parking lot feature of the game—from a tiny Alto to a Ferrari—showed up outside his building.

The doctor felt complete. Playing this game allowed him to experience such a feeling. A complete escape from reality. Away from surgeries, away from patients. It was just him and the game. 

He added more friends to his game, immersing himself in the virtual world until the doorbell rang again.

He opened the door, and the female patient suddenly appeared at his doorstep with a bright smile.

The doctor’s eyes snapped open. He was still in bed, the faint light of dawn seeping through the curtains. It had all been a dream. So the porcelain pillow really did bring pleasant dreams.

Aside from that last scene being a little too terrifying…

But it was much better than the nightmares he’d had before, where the female patient wasn’t standing there but lying on the operating table, her abdomen sliced open, her insides spilling onto the floor in a gruesome pool of blood…

The doctor shuddered and forced himself to stop thinking about it. He glanced at the clock, which showed it was only 4 am. He simply turned over and drifted back into deep sleep.

He had completely forgotten the owner’s warning.

Soon, the alarm clock’s piercing ring jolted the doctor awake. He sat up groggily as Apache leaped onto the bed, spinning in circles with restless excitement. 

The first thing he did was rush into the kitchen and open the fridge. Only when he saw that there were no carrots, no strawberries, no tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, or any other suspicious fruits or vegetables, did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.

It really was just a dream.

After taking Apache for a morning run, he returned home, washed up, had a quick breakfast, and then headed downstairs while adjusting his tie. At the building entrance, two elderly neighbors were in the middle of a heated argument over something trivial. Before he could react, they grabbed him, demanding that he mediate.

He patiently listened to both sides and tried to reason with them, but his words had no effect whatsoever. Realizing it was a lost cause, he quickly made an excuse and slipped away.

The moment he stepped out of the residential complex, a sudden gust of wind roared through the streets. Without warning, raindrops the size of beans pelted down. Muttering about his bad luck, he broke into a run toward the hospital, but by the time he got there, he was already half-soaked.

After the morning meeting, the doctor was assigned to assist in a coronary artery bypass graft surgery, commonly known as a heart bypass. This was the operation Chun Ge had been preparing for and anticipating for a long time. Yet, at this critical moment, Chun Ge had taken leave and was nowhere to be seen in the conference room.

Strangely enough, the female patient who showed up at the hospital like clockwork was also absent today. The doctor didn’t think much of it, as he suddenly received this important surgery assignment and needed to prepare immediately with little time to spare.

He would have preferred to decline, but the chief’s tone left no room for refusal. Having graduated at the top of his class in medical school, the doctor was very familiar with the procedure. Still, he feared another incident would occur mid-operation, so he spent the entire morning buried in the hospital library, poring over medical references and mentally rehearsing the surgical steps.

The surgery was scheduled for 1 pm. The doctor stood prepared at the operating table, with the chief as the lead surgeon and him as the first assistant.

His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the scalpel. But as the procedure began, he realized that returning to the operating room wasn’t as daunting as he had imagined.

Induction of general anesthesia, hypothermia, cardiopulmonary bypass, cardiac arrest, vessel harvesting, graft placement—everything proceeded smoothly.

Or at least, it did until the final stage.

Just before switching from the heart-lung machine back to normal circulation, as he was closing up the incision, the patient’s heart suddenly gushed a torrent of blood. The warm liquid splattered onto his face before he could react, dripping down his cheeks.

In the midst of his panic, he heard the sharp alarm of the ECG monitor.

The electrocardiogram had flatlined.

Snap!

The patient who had been lying on the operating table suddenly moved and shakily sat up. The doctor was petrified. He looked up in shock, only to realize that the patient was the very same woman from his previous surgical mishap!

Her pale face was twisted with resentment. But what truly sent a chill down his spine was that her chest cavity was still open. He could clearly see her lifeless heart, its motionless surface glistening with fresh blood that continued to spill out.

“It was you! You killed me!” she shrieked. 

Tearing off the IV lines attached to her body, she leaped from the operating table and stalked toward him, step by step.

“No! No! I didn’t mean to!” The doctor instinctively stumbled backward, his entire body tensed.

But there was nowhere for him to retreat. Within just a few steps, his back hit the wall. He couldn’t even think straight; it was true he had made a mistake during the operation, this female patient had never actually died.

The woman’s face slowly approached, her eerie half-smile making her look even more ghostly. Paired with her gaping chest cavity, the sight was indescribably horrific.

One step, two steps, three steps… 

The doctor could even smell the metallic tang of blood wafting from her body.

This is it!

He was done for!

Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced himself for the inevitable.

“Huff! Huff!” 

The doctor woke up from the nightmare to find Apache perching on top of him, licking his face with enthusiasm. 

The sensation of blood in his dream had felt so real—was it actually Apache’s saliva? 

The doctor breathed heavily, looking toward the slivers of sunlight seeping through the curtains. But even with daylight breaking through, he remained trapped in a dazed confusion, unable to distinguish dream from reality.

The helplessness from the dream clung to him, a lingering dread that felt like drowning in darkness, unable to scream or fight back. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead. He reached out to hold Apache still, but his fingers brushed against something icy.

It was the porcelain pillow.

Its jade-like glaze shimmered eerily under the morning light. An unnatural cold seeped into his palm, sending chills straight to his core.

Why was he having dreams like this?

The surgical mishap in his dream was almost identical to what had actually happened. Though the real-life patient had survived after the excessive bleeding was controlled, if things had gone the way they had in the dream, her life would have been in grave danger.

But why had the sudden hemorrhage happened in the first place?

The doctor clutched his head in pain, thinking for a long time until Apache’s impatient jumping snapped him out of it. He realized he was troubled by a mere dream. 

To test himself, he pinched his own cheek. The sharp sting confirmed it—he was fully awake.

… Right?

The doctor glanced back at the porcelain pillow he had used all night. Though he had slept soundly, the dreams had left him utterly drained. Every scene was so vivid, etched into his mind like real memories rather than fleeting dreams.

Shaking off the unease, he quickly washed up. By the time he finished, Apache was already waiting by the door, wagging its tail, biting the leash, ready for their usual morning run.

The doctor was about to open the door and then froze in place when he remembered every movement he had made in the dream, a strange déjà vu creeping over him.

He looked at Apache with regret but decided to cancel the morning run. After breakfast, as he was about to leave, a strange impulse took over him. Without thinking, he grabbed the umbrella from behind the door, even though the weather forecast had said nothing about rain.

With a heavy heart, he headed downstairs. 

At the entrance to the building, two elderly neighbors were embroiled in a heated argument, the scene eerily familiar, sending shivers down his spine. Too rattled to even greet them, he kept his head down and slipped past.

It’s just a coincidence, 

He repeated the thought over and over, trying to steady himself.

Yet, the moment he stepped out of the residential complex, a violent gust of wind howled through the streets. Then, as if following the script of his dream, raindrops began to fall—just as it had in his dream. The doctor opened his umbrella and started walking toward the hospital.

Coincidence! It’s all just a coincidence! 

He clenched his teeth, trying to convince himself.

The street scenes were just as they always were, and as he walked under the umbrella, the doctor began to think he was being overly sensitive. The two elderly neighbors had never gotten along, and sudden rain showers in the summer were not unusual.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh, damp air, he felt a bit more at ease.

The morning meeting at the hospital was as boring as ever. But even so, the doctor looked around the conference room and noticed that Chun Ge was indeed absent. The female patient who usually waited in the hallway for her check-up was also missing.

Everything was replaying like a scene from his dream. These coincidences were too unsettling, making the doctor feel uneasy.

“Chun Ge’s on leave today. You’ll be taking over his surgery,” the chief stopped beside him, handing him a thick case file.

Startled, the doctor accepted the file with trembling hands under the chief’s puzzled gaze. He stared at the file for a long time before gathering the courage to open it—coronary artery bypass graft surgery!

A nightmare replaying itself.

A chill ran down his spine, leaving the doctor feeling weak. He remembered the owner’s last words of warning, “Just remember one thing, if you were to wake up in the middle of the night, don’t immediately go back to sleep using this pillow. Otherwise, sweet dreams might turn into nightmares, and nightmares might come true.” 

The doctor shuddered violently.

Slap! 

He smacked his own face with both hands, hard enough to sting.

No. He wasn’t going to surrender to fear. This was reality! 

The doctor carefully reviewed the patient’s case file. In the dream, he had seen the exact point where the hemorrhage had erupted. Yet, despite his thorough review, nothing in the patient’s test results indicated any potential complications.

The afternoon surgery proceeded as scheduled, with the doctor standing in the first assistant’s position. Every scene, every person was eerily identical to his dream. It was like a recorded film playing frame by frame in front of him.

The surgery started just as smoothly as it had in his dream, and thanks to the nightmare, the doctor felt like he was reliving the procedure. But this time, just before switching from the cardiopulmonary bypass back to the patient’s own circulation, the doctor stopped the department head, insisting on one last thorough check.

Standing across from him, the chief surgeon frowned. This was indeed a difficult surgery, but everything was proceeding normally. The doctor held his breath, staring intently at the chief. He knew that as an intern, the lead surgeon had the final say in the operating room.

The chief saw no issues, and since the doctor refused to proceed with the sutures, he decided to do it himself. “Stop the cardiopulmonary bypass and switch to internal circulation.”

The others in the operating room cast sympathetic glances at the doctor, who stood there in a daze. They all knew about his previous surgical mistake and assumed his insistence was merely an obsession born from that failure.

The doctor didn’t know how to prevent everything from happening as in his dream, and things continued to unfold according to it. The only difference was that the director was doing the suturing this time.

The moment the needle passed through the heart valve, the scene from the doctor’s dream came true—the patient’s heart suddenly gushed a massive amount of blood! The ECG emitted a sharp alarm! 

The doctor reacted quickly, remembering the bleeding point from his dream. As soon as the blood spurted out, he lunged forward and clamped the artery with hemostatic forceps!

Chaos erupted in the operating room.

“Switch back to extracorporeal circulation!” Sweat poured down the chief’s forehead as a nurse hurriedly wiped it away. The artificial circuit quickly diverted the patient’s venous blood outside the body, where it was oxygenated through the cardiopulmonary bypass machine before being returned to circulation.

The doctor glanced at the ECG monitor. The patient’s heartbeat had flatlined, the piercing alarm overlapping with the memory of his dream… Everything was exactly as it had been in the nightmare…

The door of Ya She creaked open. The owner set down his book, looking slightly surprised at the person entering, “Why are you here so late?” 

The doctor, unable to conceal his exhaustion, carefully placed the brocade box onto the counter. “The surgery ran two hours longer than planned. By the time I stepped out of the hospital, the sky was already dark.”

“Did the surgery go well?” the owner asked with a smile.

The doctor nodded and sank heavily into a chair, slumping against the backrest as if all strength had left his body. “It was already a complicated surgery, and I took over at the last minute. The technical details wouldn’t make sense to you, but… the surgery was a success!”

“That’s good,” the owner replied, as if he had anticipated the outcome, his smile unchanged. 

The doctor opened the brocade box in front of him, silently gazing at the porcelain pillow resting on the silk cloth. After a long pause, he said, “I’m returning this to you.”

“Why? Still having trouble sleeping?” the owner raised an eyebrow.

“No, I’m genuinely grateful for it. The sweet dreams it gave me were very real.” 

The nightmares were just as real. The doctor didn’t have the courage to voice his thoughts. 

As a medical professional, he didn’t believe in superstitions or supernatural forces, yet he couldn’t deny the fear that gripped him. Like a curse, the thought kept circling in his mind after the surgery, if he hadn’t indulged in the beautiful dreams, would the nightmares have manifested in reality?

He didn’t want to know the answer. Dreams were dreams, and reality was reality. He didn’t want to struggle every night to distinguish if he was dreaming or awake. Or perhaps, he had been trapped in that nightmare from a month ago all this time, unable to break free.

But after today’s surgery, the usually stern chief uncharacteristically praised him, truly waking him from his nightmare. One failed surgery didn’t mean that all his future surgeries would be failures. He had not made any irreversible mistakes this time. 

It was just like his time in school; he didn’t give up on studying because of one failed exam.

The doctor clenched his fists silently, realizing how much of a mess he had been over the past month.

Only by accepting one’s mistakes could one truly move forward.

The owner didn’t press further. Instead, he reached out and gently grasped the doctor’s clenched fist on the counter, offering a reassuring smile. “On a smooth road, one can walk with ease. But only on muddy ground can one leave footprints behind.”

His hand was cold. “While nightmares may come true, they aren’t unchangeable,” he said meaningfully. 

The doctor looked up, seeing the deep black in the owner’s eyes, feeling as if he had seen through his thoughts.

At that moment, the carved door of Ya She was pushed open, and a young woman in a white dress walked in. Her gaze fell on the intertwined hands of the doctor and the owner, causing her to pause. The doctor sprang up from his chair in shock. This pale-faced woman was the very patient he had nearly lost on the operating table.

Seeing the doctor, the woman’s pallid complexion took on a hint of rosiness. She seemed to have recovered well, and even her voice was soft and gentle. “Hello. I went to the hospital this afternoon and heard you were in surgery. No matter what, I wanted to talk to you.”

The doctor lowered his head awkwardly. Though hesitant, he still apologized with firm resolve. “I’m sorry. I should’ve formally apologized to you much earlier, but I couldn’t face it.”

The candlelight in the shop flickered, casting shifting shadows on the woman’s face. The owner remained behind the counter, smiling faintly.

“Pfft!” She glanced at the doctor, then at the owner, and couldn’t help but burst into laughter. 

“Oh, so that is what this is! I was wondering why such an excellent man like you wouldn’t have a girlfriend. Now I understand why you come here every night… Doctor, goodbye! I won’t bother you anymore. To be honest, I have been fully recovered for a while now!”

The woman shook her head as she spoke, then walked out by herself, leaving the two men inside staring at each other in confusion.

“What…what did she mean by that?” The doctor was utterly baffled.

“She’s quite pretty and seems to like you. That’s why she came for those check-ups every day. You never noticed?” The owner casually exposed the very question that had troubled the doctor for so long. Then, as if nothing had happened, he sat back down and resumed reading.

“No… I only remember her lying on the operating table with her chest cut open,” the doctor said earnestly after some thought.

The owner lifted his eyelids slightly, giving him an odd smile. It was unclear whom he was referring to when he sighed, “Oh my, how pitiful.”

“Hey! Who are you calling pitiful?” The doctor bristled. “And what did she mean by her last words before she left?” He felt uneasy seeing the owner’s smile like he had just walked into someone’s trap.

The owner merely sipped his tea and continued reading, leaving the doctor to fume on his own. With an annoyed huff, the doctor stormed out of the shop.

Listening to his departing footsteps, the owner set down his book with a faint smile. He reached into the brocade box and carefully took out the porcelain pillow, then retrieved a piece of deerskin cloth and gently wiped its surface.

“Yellow Millet, it seems this time was a success as well. Not only did you save a life, but you also managed to enlighten that fellow. He’ll surely become an excellent doctor and save countless lives in the future,” the owner murmured to himself. The porcelain pillow seemed to gleam even brighter and more lustrous as if it understood his words.

The door of Ya She swung open once more.

“Welcome,” the owner greeted, lifting his head and flashing his signature smile. His voice drifted softly through the dimly lit shop.

By the entrance, the candle flames flickered gently, as if whispering a silent question—

Who will be the next guest?