Kunlun Hospital, Qiming City — East Wing Reception Desk

A worried mother stood in line with her daughter at the reception desk of the East Wing of Kunlun Hospital.

The daughter, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, clung to her mother’s arm with both hands. Her eyes were dull and exhausted, her head hanging heavily forward, her chin nearly pressed against her chest. The muscles in her neck were stretched taut and rigid.

When it was finally their turn, the mother stepped forward cautiously.

“We’d like to… register for an appointment.”

The receptionist in a blue nurse’s uniform spoke rapidly.

“Hello. Which department would you like to see?”

The mother hesitated.

“We… don’t know.”

The receptionist frowned and looked up at her.

The woman appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, short and plainly dressed.

As if remembering something, the mother lowered her voice.

“We were… referred here to see Dr. Mei.”

The receptionist’s frown deepened.

“Which Dr. Mei?”

“Dr. Mei Feng.”

The mother’s eyes darted nervously.

“We’ve never met him, and we’ve never contacted him… We were just referred here.”

A nearby nurse in a pink uniform, having overheard the name, quickly spoke up.

“Over here, over here. Dr. Mei Feng is from the West Wing. You should ask at my desk.”

She pointed to the sign in front of her:

Kunlun West Wing Information Desk

The mother led her daughter over.

“How do we make an appointment with Dr. Mei Feng?”

The pink-uniformed nurse smiled.

“Please wait a moment. I’ll call him over.”

Moe than ten minutes later, a small door beside the reception area—marked “Medical Staff Only. Patients Prohibited.”—suddenly opened.

A man in a white coat stepped out.

The pink-uniformed nurse pointed toward the mother and daughter.

The doctor strode over.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Mei Feng.”

Dr. Mei Feng looked to be in his thirties. His appearance and voice were both gentle, as though he carried a soft glow around him.

“The patient is her, right?”

He looked at the daughter.

She raised her head, glanced at him briefly, then lowered it again with apparent disinterest.

“That’s right. It’s my daughter. It’s my daughter’s illness!”

The mother hurriedly pulled out a thick bundle of medical records and X-rays from her bag.

“Three years ago, when she was in the second year of graduate school, she suddenly started convulsing while brushing her teeth one night. I thought it was stress from graduation. That was her first episode—I even wrote down the date, November 27th.”

“After that, the attacks became more and more frequent. She couldn’t continue living on campus, so I arranged a leave of absence and brought her home for treatment.”

“We’ve gone to countless hospitals over the years. They’ve checked everything. It’s not epilepsy. It’s not parasites. It’s not hereditary. It’s not a genetic disorder. The doctors considered every possibility, but they still couldn’t find the cause.”

“In the end, they said it might be psychological or psychiatric due to academic stress. They sent us to psychiatry and prescribed medication…”

The mother’s eyes reddened.

“But the medicine didn’t help. Since last year, the attacks have gotten worse. During an episode, it’s like she becomes a different person. She babbles nonsense, screams… Her face twists into something terrifying. She doesn’t recognize anyone—not even me. The way she looks at me is frightening.”

“I had no other choice, so I started taking her to temples and shrines, praying for help…”

Dr. Mei skimmed through the records.

The patient’s name was Tong Shuya, twenty-seven years old. Her symptoms had persisted for three years.

Once he had a basic understanding of the situation, he interrupted.

“Who referred you to me?”

The question touched on something embarrassingly close to superstition.

The mother hesitated before answering.

“Last month, I took her to a small county town to visit a shrine dedicated to some ‘Third Master.’ People said it could cure illnesses.”

“On the train there, I met a man—someone people called an immortal. Honestly, he just looked like an office worker in a suit. I didn’t believe him at first.”

“But his fortune-telling was unbelievably accurate.”

“I didn’t tell him anything, yet he immediately knew about my daughter’s illness. He even knew we were going to the shrine.”

“He told us not to go. He said seeking help from those amateurs wasn’t as good as coming to Kunlun Hospital’s West Wing and finding Dr. Mei Feng.”

“He said the West Wing was the best place for treating mysterious illnesses…”

“Oh,” said Mei Feng. “So that’s how you heard about us.”

He gathered the medical records.

“Come with me to the West Wing. You can’t register for my clinic over here.”

“What about my daughter’s condition?” the mother asked anxiously.

“I can already tell that her illness falls within the scope of what we treat in the West Wing.”

“However, what exactly the illness is—and how it should be treated—will require one of our specialists to examine her.”

He swiped a keycard and opened the side door beside the reception desk.

The mother tightly gripped her daughter’s hand and followed him.

Without realizing it, they passed through a long, silent corridor lined with countless windows.

“Dr. Mei,” the mother asked, still worried about the cost, “roughly how much will treatment be? I’d like to prepare myself.”

“The cost depends on the cause,” Mei Feng reassured her.

“Different causes qualify for different levels of financial assistance.”

“Your daughter’s condition will most likely require hospitalization. How long she’ll stay, how much it will cost, whether it’s fully covered or partially subsidized—those decisions depend on the specialist’s evaluation.”

“There’s no need to worry just yet.”

At the end of the corridor stood another door.

Above it were the words:

To West Wing

Yet beside it sat a warning sign:

Construction Area — No Entry

Dr. Mei swiped his card again.

Seeing the mother’s puzzled gaze, he stepped aside and smiled.

“Don’t mind that sign. It’s there to stop family members from the East Wing from wandering around.”

Beyond the door was a spacious old-fashioned stairwell.

The fluorescent lights overhead were dim and aging, and patches of paint peeled from the walls.

After several turns, they reached a locked fire door marked Second Floor.

Beside it hung an old wooden plaque.

The usually withdrawn daughter looked up and read the faded inscription:

KUNLUN WEST WING, A Thousand Years of Heritage, A National Time-Honored Institution

Dr. Mei unlocked the door.

“This is the second floor of the West Wing—the specialist consultation level.”

The corridors were completely deserted.

Compared to the bustling East Wing, the silence was striking.

“Dr. Mei,” the mother asked, “is the West Wing… different from the East Wing?”

“They’re both part of the same hospital.”

He smiled.

“They simply specialize in different things.”

“The East Wing treats ordinary people’s…” He coughed lightly.

“…ordinary illnesses.”

“The West Wing specializes in certain difficult cases, including ones like your daughter’s.”

Tey arrived at Mei Feng’s office.

The room was warm and stuffy. The air was humid and carried a peculiar scent—a mixture of medicinal herbs and temple incense.

Dr. Mei pressed an intercom button.

His voice echoed throughout the entire West Wing.

“Dr. Hai Chui Sha of the Inpatient Department, please report to the second-floor consultation room.”

Curiously, although the announcement reverberated through the West Wing, not a single word could be heard outside its walls.

After making the call, he sat behind his desk, absentmindedly rubbing his thinning hair while catching up on paperwork.

“Please have a seat. We’ll need to wait a few minutes.”

“I’ve called in the specialist. She’ll be here shortly.”

The office itself looked ordinary.

Medical files were piled everywhere. A thermos sat atop the clutter. Takeout containers overflowed from a trash bin near the door.

On the desk stood a family photograph showing a family of four.

“You’re married, Dr. Mei?” the mother asked.

“Mm. I have two children.”

He smiled.

“The older one is starting middle school. The younger one is about to enter elementary school.”

“You look so young. I didn’t expect your children to be that old.”

“Haha, thank you.”

He rubbed his hair again.

“I got married early. Actually, I’m nearly forty.”

“You speak so gently,” the mother remarked sincerely.

“Probably because of my accent. My Mandarin isn’t very good. My family’s originally from the south.”

“I came to this hospital after medical school.”

“Is this hospital privately owned or government-run?” she asked.

“Private.”

“But don’t worry. We’re experts in treating uncommon illnesses like your daughter’s.”

“Although the hospital itself was officially approved by the government in 1987, the Kunlun name has existed for over a thousand years.”

He smiled.

“Even my surname, Mei—you can ask around. We’re one of the Four Great Medical Families specializing in abnormal and mysterious illnesses.”

“Hai, Qiao, Sun, and Mei.”

“A thousand-year-old institution?”

“One of the Four Great Medical Families?”

The mother blinked.

“So… is this a traditional Chinese medicine hospital?”

“No, no.”

“We’re a comprehensive hospital.”

“As for the Four Great Families…”

“The Mei family practices treatments similar to traditional Chinese medicine, focusing on acupuncture and therapeutic manipulation.”

“The Sun family also relied on traditional herbal medicine, though much of their knowledge has been lost.”

“The other two families have adapted with the times and developed a wider variety of techniques.”

“But none of that is the most important part.”

“For this kind of special medicine, what ultimately matters is innate talent and clinical experience.”

“You must be very experienced after all these years, Dr. Mei.”

“Me?”

He waved his hands modestly.

“Not at all. I’m still lacking in both talent and experience.”

“The doctor who’s about to examine your daughter is truly exceptional.”

“Dr. Hai is a natural genius.”

“Just leave your daughter to her. She’ll definitely identify the cause.”

The rhythmic click of high heels echoed down the hallway.

“She’s here,” said Mei Feng.

The mother turned toward the door.

The nearly broken fluorescent light flickered several times.

A tall young woman appeared in the doorway.

She looked to be in her twenties.

Her features were striking, with a high nose and beautiful eyes. Thick chestnut-colored curls framed her face.

Her fitted white coat accentuated her graceful figure.

A warm, sweet fragrance seemed to radiate from her.

She looked more like a fashion model than a doctor.

Yet she possessed an overwhelming aura of reliability.

As though her arrival alone meant every illness could be cured.

Ignoring the mother, the female doctor walked directly to the silent daughter.

“Dr. Hai, please take a look,” Mei Feng said respectfully.

“My assessment is at least an A-Class case.”

The woman raised a hand. Her nails were neatly trimmed.

She lifted the patient’s chin and looked directly into her eyes.

“Look at me.”

Her voice was calm, low, and commanding.

The mother was about to explain the symptoms when her daughter’s eyes suddenly began trembling.

Then the tremors spread throughout her entire body.

The shaking intensified violently.

The young woman flailed her arms.

Her teeth chattered.

Her features twisted into a horrifying expression, as though she were simultaneously enraged and laughing hysterically.

Though still held by her mother, she bent backward unnaturally and turned her face toward the doctor.

A beast-like growl escaped her throat.

Her pupils quivered rapidly.

Every now and then, they briefly transformed into vertical slits.

“You…” she rasped.

“…look delicious.”

“At least A-Class,” the doctor said with a faint smile.

Completely unfazed.

She took out a penlight and examined the patient’s pupils.

Then she wrote a note, signed it, and handed it to the mother.

“Go to the West Wing’s first-floor reception desk and complete the admission procedures.”

“Your daughter must be hospitalized immediately.”

“If treatment is delayed any longer, her life will be in danger.”

The mother’s voice trembled.

“Doctor… what exactly is wrong with my daughter?”

“Yao Disease.”

“Yao… Disease?”

The words sounded unreal.

Yaobing—a mysterious illness caused by malevolent supernatural entities.

A condition that modern medicine could neither explain nor cure.

The doctor removed a tiny incense pellet from her pocket and lit it.

Then she gently blew a breath toward the frenzied patient.

Slowly, the young woman’s eyes closed.

She drifted into sleep.

“As the patient’s family member, hospital regulations allow us to disclose part of the truth.”

“In simple terms, the cause of the illness is a yao.”

The doctor put away the incense pellet and extended her hand.

“Hello.”

“My name is Hai Chui Sha.”

“From this moment onward, I will be your daughter’s attending physician.”

“Please come with me to the conference room.”

“I’ll explain everything in detail.”

Then she turned to Mei Feng.

“Prepare a medical confidentiality agreement.”