18: Chapter 18 Sometimes, what a madman says is true.

The garden of the mental hospital was not particularly noisy.

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Aside from the occasional shrill laugh or low murmur, most patients were submerged in their own worlds.

Jiang Feng walked over to an empty bench and sat down.

Zhao Yi stood two meters behind him with his hands behind his back, his gaze scanning the surroundings.

Jiang Feng took out that small, paint-chipped folding stool and placed it next to the bench.

On a torn piece of notebook paper, he wrote two words: [Dream Interpretation].

He then picked up a stone and pressed it onto the armrest of the bench.

In less than two minutes, the first customer arrived.

It was a man in his thirties, so thin that his cheeks were sunken.

He held a long-handled black umbrella, and even though the sun was shining brightly overhead, he huddled himself within the umbrella's shadow.

The man squatted in front of Jiang Feng, the edge of the umbrella pressed very low. "Are you a new mushroom?" his voice was tiny.

Jiang Feng looked at him.

In the system's vision, a mass of damp, cold gray mist hovered over the man's head, its edges constantly dissipating.

"I am not a mushroom," Jiang Feng said. "I am a dream interpreter."

The man shivered.

He slowly raised his head, revealing a pair of eyes bloodshot with red veins. "I had another dream last night."

"What did you dream about?"

"I dreamed I turned into an umbrella." The man pointed to the black umbrella in his hand. "But the canopy was torn, and it was leaking. The rainwater was so cold, dripping on me, freezing my bones until they cracked. Am I about to die?"

Zhao Yi frowned behind him.

Jiang Feng didn't speak.

The system's analytical text surfaced.

[Dream Elements: Torn umbrella (loss of protection), cold rain (environmental erosion).]

[Subconscious Mapping: Recent passing of a maternal relative (the sole pillar of support).]

[Core Issue: Not a fear of death, but a severed connection.]

Jiang Feng looked at the man's cowering form. "You aren't broken, and you won't die. You feel cold because the person who used to hold the umbrella for you is gone."

The man's body froze.

"You are waiting for the person who held the umbrella to come back and fix it," Jiang Feng continued. "But you know she isn't coming back. So you feel like you're leaking—it's not that the umbrella is broken, it's that the space beneath it is empty."

The man's lips began to tremble, and the black umbrella he had held so steadily slipped from his grasp.

The sunlight shone directly onto his face.

He didn't hide; tears welled up and poured from his eyes.

"Mom..." He curled up on the ground. "I miss my mom... I wanted to hold the umbrella for her just once..."

The madman who thought he was a mushroom just minutes ago was gone; on the ground was only a son who had lost his mother.

A nurse in the distance saw this scene and covered her mouth in surprise.

This patient had been admitted for a month and would only squat in a corner holding his umbrella, biting anyone who tried to take it away.

[Ding! Effective Divination Count: 1/3]

Jiang Feng picked up the umbrella and placed it by the man's hand. "It's good to cry it out. The umbrella is still here; you can hold it yourself."

The man hugged the umbrella, his crying turning into loud wails.

The nurse ran over to help him away.

Zhao Yi watched their retreating figures without saying a word.

Jiang Feng turned his gaze to a spot under a tree not far away.

A young girl stood there.

Her hospital gown hung loosely on her body, her long hair was disheveled, and her face was deathly pale. She stared fixedly at the dirt on the ground, motionless.

Zhao Yi's spine stiffened.

"Xiaoya!"

That was Zhao Yi's younger sister, Zhao Xiaoya.

Hearing the voice, Zhao Xiaoya slowly turned her head, her eyes vacant.

She drifted over and sat down in front of Jiang Feng.

"My brother says you have ability," her voice was raspy. "Can you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"The sound of scratching the wall."

Zhao Xiaoya extended her fingers and scratched at the wooden armrest of the bench, making a screeching sound.

"Shhh-shhh... shhh-shhh..."

She held her fingernails up to Jiang Feng. The crevices were filled with wall plaster and dried blood.

"They say I'm crazy." Zhao Xiaoya stared at Jiang Feng. "The doctor says it's auditory hallucinations, and my brother says it's just stress. But I know it's real. Inside the wall, someone is scratching."

Zhao Yi interjected from the side, "Xiaoya, the room next door is empty; no one lives there."

"There is!" Zhao Xiaoya suddenly screamed. "There's someone! He's counting! One, two, three... he's counting until I fall asleep!"

"Even in my dreams, he's always scratching!"

[Dream Element: Sound inside the wall.]

[Mental State: High stress, logical consistency.]

[Sensory Feedback: Auditory overload (genuine sound source).]

[Environmental Feature Analysis: Sound source originates from the interlayer of the target's bedroom wall; frequency matches the characteristics of fingernails scratching concrete.]

[Metaphysical Omen: Condensed resentment, a living person trapped in a curse.]

Jiang Feng suddenly looked at Zhao Yi.

"Captain Zhao," Jiang Feng interrupted Zhao Xiaoya's screaming.

Zhao Yi was taken aback. "What is it?"

"Your sister isn't crazy." Jiang Feng spoke extremely fast, pointing at Zhao Xiaoya's blood-streaked fingers. "The sound she hears is real."

A gust of wind blew through the garden. Zhao Yi felt a chill.

"Are you saying... there really is someone next door?"

"Not next door." Jiang Feng stood up. "Inside the wall."

"Go check the wall in her bedroom, especially the one connecting to the neighbor's." Jiang Feng stared at Zhao Yi. "There is an interlayer there. There is... something inside."

"Or rather, someone."

Zhao Yi's face turned deathly pale.

As a Criminal Police Officer, countless thoughts raced through his mind.

A voyeur? A pervert? Or someone bricked into the wall...?

"Go now." Jiang Feng kicked the folding stool aside. "Immediately. That person isn't dead yet; they are still scratching."

Zhao Xiaoya stopped trembling and looked at Jiang Feng, tears streaming down her face.

"Finally... someone finally believes me."

Zhao Yi pulled out his phone and dialed the Criminal Investigation Team, roaring, "Bring demolition tools and go to my house! Smash open the wall in Xiaoya's bedroom! Now! Immediately!"

[Ding! Effective Divination Count: 2/3]