17: Chapter 17: I'm rich, but I can't buy that...

The bank card balance increased by another million.

Adding his previous savings, Jiang Feng's net worth now exceeded five million.

For a terminally ill patient who was worrying about a few thousand yuan in medical bills just a few months ago, this was a massive sum.

But he wasn't as happy as he had imagined.

The air conditioning in the luxury mall downtown was very strong.

Jiang Feng wore that blue and white checkered shirt worth a few dozen yuan, sneakers on his feet, and held several paper bags printed with big-name logos in his hands.

He had just gone to buy a few changes of clothes.

He didn't try them on; he just gave his size and swiped his card.

Passing an imported goods supermarket, he walked in and picked up two bottles of the most expensive yogurt.

He checked out and twisted off the cap.

In the past, when he drank yogurt, he always licked the layer on the lid clean; it was a habit born of poverty.

Now, he just glanced at the thick layer of milk residue and threw the lid directly into the trash can.

"This feeling..." Jiang Feng took a sip of the yogurt. The flavor was rich, but he only found it cloying. "It's a bit boring."

He walked out of the supermarket and passed a high-end custom wedding dress shop on the second floor.

In a giant floor-to-ceiling window, a mermaid wedding dress covered in crystals was on display.

The lights shone on it, making it shimmer with radiant colors, so beautiful that one couldn't look away.

A young couple was inside trying on outfits.

The girl wore the wedding dress and twirled around while the boy took pictures non-stop with his phone, his eyes full of light.

Jiang Feng stopped in his tracks.

He stood outside the window, shopping bags in hand, with a mouthful of unswallowed yogurt.

The glass reflected his shadow.

Pale, thin, and hollow-eyed.

Five million.

This money could buy this wedding dress, all the accessories in this shop, and even half of that happy scene he once longed for—the material half.

But he couldn't buy the other half.

If he hadn't gotten sick, he should have been at the stage of discussing marriage.

Perhaps he would be like that boy, foolishly holding up a phone, worrying about bride prices and mortgages, yet full of energy for the future.

Now, he only had a past, no future.

His stomach churned.

The side effects of chemotherapy were acting up again.

Jiang Feng threw the remaining half-bottle of yogurt into a roadside trash can and turned to leave.

Returning to his newly rented apartment, as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, Jiang Feng saw someone standing at the door.

It was Zhao Yi.

The vice captain of the Criminal Investigation Brigade wasn't wearing his police uniform today; he wore a crumpled jacket and carried a bag of apples.

He was standing at the door, about to knock, when he heard the elevator and turned his head.

"How did you find this place?" Jiang Feng asked.

Zhao Yi shook the phone in his hand. "Skynet. You weren't deliberately hiding; checking a rental record isn't hard."

Jiang Feng opened the door. "Come in."

Zhao Yi entered the house and placed the apples on the coffee table.

He looked around the apartment.

It was well-decorated, but aside from that small stool with peeling paint, there were no personal items; it was as cold and empty as a model home.

"It's not about a case." Zhao Yi stood in the center of the living room, rubbing his hands together a bit awkwardly. "Personal matter."

Jiang Feng poured himself a glass of water and sat on the sofa. "Sit."

Zhao Yi sat down. The sofa was soft, but he sat bolt upright.

"My sister, Zhao Xiaoya," Zhao Yi began. "Lately... something's been wrong."

"Is she sick?"

"It would be better if she were sick." Zhao Yi frowned. "We went to the hospital for checks—brain CT, MRI, blood routine, everything—and there's nothing wrong at all. But she keeps saying someone is talking to her."

"Auditory hallucinations?"

"It's more than just auditory hallucinations." Zhao Yi's voice lowered. "She says she always goes to a certain place in her dreams. It's very dark, and someone is scratching behind the wall—scritch, scritch, scritch. When she wakes up, her fingernails are full of dust."

Jiang Feng looked at Zhao Yi. "You should see a psychologist or a psychiatrist for this."

"I did." Zhao Yi sighed. "She's currently staying at the Municipal Mental Health Center. The doctor said it's severe schizophrenia and prescribed medication, but it's not working. When I went to visit yesterday, she grabbed my hand and said that person is about to come out."

Zhao Yi looked up, a hint of plea in his eyes. "I know you have abilities. Those two previous cases... I saw them. Could you go and see her?"

Jiang Feng put down the water glass.

At this moment, he hadn't received any mission.

In other words, right now, he was just an ordinary cancer patient.

There was no Metaphysical Translator, and he couldn't see any fortune.

"I don't have a feeling right now," Jiang Feng said truthfully.

Zhao Yi's eyes dimmed. "True, these things depend on fate. I'm just... really out of options."

He stood up, preparing to take his leave.

Looking at Zhao Yi's broad but slightly hunched back, Jiang Feng remembered how he had been at the gate of the Criminal Police Brigade, disregarding everything to save his subordinate.

"Wait." Jiang Feng stood up. "Take me to see her."

Zhao Yi whipped his head around. "You're willing to go?"

"I don't guarantee I'll see anything." Jiang Feng picked up his windbreaker from the hanger. "I'm not a doctor either. I'll just go and see if I can talk to her."

Half an hour later.

Zhao Yi's car stopped in the parking lot of the Municipal Mental Health Center.

The environment here was very quiet, surrounded by high walls and barbed wire. The inpatient department was at the very back, with a large garden in front where patients could get some fresh air.

Jiang Feng followed Zhao Yi into the garden.

It was exactly ten in the morning, and the sunlight was pleasant. Patients in blue and white striped hospital gowns were strolling on the lawn; some were talking to themselves, while others were gesturing at thin air.

The moment Jiang Feng stepped into the garden.

In the depths of his mind, that familiar mechanical voice rang out without warning.

Zzt—

[New Mission Issued]

Jiang Feng's footsteps faltered for a moment.

[Location]: Municipal Mental Health Center, Garden Bench

[Time]: 10:00 - 11:00

[Method]: Dream Interpretation

[Domain]: Subconscious / Truth

[Objective]: Receive three customers and successfully interpret their dreams

Jiang Feng looked at the mission panel, a helpless smile tugging at the corner of mouth.

This system really knows how to pick its moments.

"What's wrong?" Zhao Yi saw him stop and turned back to ask.

Jiang Feng looked up at the bench not far away, his gaze becoming deep.

"What a coincidence," Jiang Feng said to Zhao Yi. "I have a feeling again."