In the hospital corridor, Shi Qing leaned comfortably against Meng Qing, playing with his hand.
Meng Qing didn't look too pleased.
Shi Qing held his hand and slowly traced his fingertips along the faint palm lines, even when the young Daoist reflexively pulled his hand back from this unexpected closeness.
"We signed a contract, you know. Do you want to break it?" The demon king's melodious voice carried a hint of a smile as he challenged Meng Qing's reluctance.
Meng Qing's handsome face was full of resistance. He lowered his gaze and met Shi Qing's playful eyes.
"You deceived me," he retorted.
"You signed a contract with Chen Zeyu, and it clearly wasn't about lifespan. Yet you lied to me," Shi Qing said without a trace of embarrassment. He shamelessly tightened his grip on the Daoist's hand. "Didn't you say so? I'm a demon king. Have you ever seen a demon king who doesn't tell lies?"
Meng Qing turned away in frustration, ignoring him.
The demon king didn't let up. "I didn't lie when we signed the contract."
"I only said I would exchange with you, and I would give you Chen Zeyu's contract. His stuff would go back too. But I never said it had to be a lifespan," Shi Qing explained.
Meng Qing countered, "You said it would be a year of lifespan."
"Yes," Shi Qing replied, his eyes filled with allure, teasing as he leaned against the young Daoist. "I only said you'd get a year of lifespan, but I never said it would be Chen Zeyu's."
"Young Daoist, get your facts straight. You misunderstood," he added.
Meng Qing remained silent. Not speaking meant he didn't know how to counter Shi Qing's arguments. Besides, he still harbored a hint of doubt deep down.
Previously, Shi Qing had clearly mentioned exchanging for lifespan, but in the end, they were exchanging tears. A thought crossed his mind: Could it be that Shi Qing was doing this out of pity for them...
No, that couldn't be it. How could a demon king change the rules of exchange just out of sympathy? Meng Qing scolded himself for even thinking such a thing. Perhaps the demon king had bewitched him.
Meng Qing snapped out of it and closed his eyes, silently reciting the Dao De Jing in his mind, determined to ignore Shi Qing.
When he didn't respond, Shi Qing started talking to himself.
"Young Daoist, I'll take you to see fireworks tomorrow."
"They don't allow fireworks in this city anymore. I used to love fireworks, but ever since they implemented that fireworks ban, I haven't seen any here."
"Young Daoist, are you really going to ignore me?" Shi Qing prodded, but when Meng Qing remained unresponsive, he softened his tone. "Well, I just wanted to play with you. Don't be mad."
"Young Daoist, Young Daoist?"
"Don't ignore me. I get bored on my own."
With that, the demon king reached out with his fair hands and gently turned the young Daoist's face toward him.
Meng Qing kept his eyes closed and continued reciting the Dao De Jing in his mind, refusing to acknowledge Shi Qing.
"Are you really angry?" Shi Qing gave up teasing and rested his head on Meng Qing's shoulder, his tone growing melancholic. "I just wanted to play with you."
"Hey, you Daoists should know that there are two types of energy in the world: impure and pure," Shi Qing continued.
Meng Qing certainly knew.
But he kept his eyes shut and remained silent.
Shi Qing went on, "Your master must have told you that I, as a demon king, am impure energy."
Meng Qing was puzzled, marked by a series of question marks in his mind, but he resisted the urge to open his eyes. He had resolved not to engage with the demon king.
Shi Qing's face showed a hint of sadness, and he gently nuzzled Meng Qing's shoulder, causing a slight dampness to seep into the Daoist's clothing.
He lowered his voice, sounding somewhat hoarse, "Impure energy is generated by all the negative thoughts of humans. The more people hold grudges, the more impure energy accumulates in the world. When it becomes too much to contain, I am born."
"You righteous sects always call me a demon king, a monster, claiming that I bring calamity to the world. Did I ask for this?" Shi Qing's voice trembled with emotion.
Meng Qing's eyelashes quivered even more, and he felt a sense of guilt and unease creeping into his heart.
Shi Qing sniffled. "From the moment I was born, my body was filled with the negative energy of the entire world. You righteous sects never taught me how to conduct myself. I had no parents to guide me. I had to rely on instinct to survive. When I was first born, I knew nothing. You didn't educate me, and now I've somehow stumbled through life. Yet, you still call me a demon king and a monster."
Meng Qing's mind was overwhelmed by question marks, and he almost opened his eyes. Fortunately, he remembered his decision to ignore the demon king and kept his eyes closed, adopting a "I won't pay attention to anything you say" posture.
Shi Qing's face displayed a hint of sadness as he used his own face to rub against Meng Qing's shoulder, moistening it further.
His voice became even softer and huskier. "Impure energy is created by the negative thoughts of humans. The more grudges they hold, the more impure energy accumulates. When it becomes too much, I am born."
"Have your master ever told you that I am the embodiment of impure energy?"
Meng Qing was left utterly puzzled, and the question marks filled his mind. However, he maintained his closed-eye stance, refusing to be drawn into the conversation.
Shi Qing sniffed again and added, "I was born with the negativity of the world within me. You righteous sects, at the mere sight of me, cry out for my death. No one taught me how to live among humans, and I have no parents. I can only survive on instinct. When I was born, I didn't understand anything. You didn't guide me, and now I've somehow survived, but you still call me a demon king and a monster."
Meng Qing's eyelashes quivered even more, and his inner recitation of the Dao De Jing came to a halt.
"Especially you. I only knew you were my fated soulmate, so I came to see you with joy in my heart. But as soon as we met, you started throwing spells at me," Meng Qing explained anxiously while trying to keep his eyes closed. "I didn't mean to. It's just that I didn't feel your heartbeat, so..."
The demon king's soft and delicate hands, which were completely at odds with his aura, suddenly grabbed Meng Qing's hand and placed it on his chest.
"Do you feel it? My heartbeat."
"I only have a heartbeat when I meet my fated soulmate. I've been alone for so many years, lonely for so long. When I realized you were my fated soulmate, I couldn't wait to come to you with a heart full of joy. But you've been cold towards me, ignoring me, and even calling me a demon king and a monster," the demon king continued.
Meng Qing felt the powerful heartbeat under his palm, and he couldn't help but feel his own heart racing in excitement along with the demon king's.
His throat moved up and down, and on his handsome face, which was still closed in concentration, tiny beads of sweat had already formed on his forehead. He listened to Shi Qing's low, hoarse voice.
"I just wanted you to be with me. You blamed me for deceiving you, but we are naturally destined for each other. If you hadn't ignored me first, if you hadn't refused to hold my hand, why would I need to deceive you?"
"Think about it carefully. Since we met, when have I ever harmed you? It's you who used harsh words against me, threw spells at me, and even wanted to kill me with a sword."
Overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of guilt, the young Daoist finally admitted his wrongdoing. "I wasn't doing it on purpose. I thought you had ill intentions."
Shi Qing's voice sounded even more aggrieved. "If I really had ill intentions, would I, a demon king, let you descend to the underworld in your dreams? There was no need for me to go through all this trouble."
Indeed, Shi Qing was the demon king, unbeatable even by his master. If he had wanted to harm Meng Qing, there was no need for him to be so polite in their conversation.
Realizing this, the young Daoist's guilt grew even stronger. He nervously swallowed and said, "I'm sorry, I was wrong. I promise I won't treat you this way again."
He wanted to open his eyes, but Shi Qing's hand quickly blocked him.
"Don't look at me, it's embarrassing!"
Apparently, he was afraid that Meng Qing would see him crying.
Meng Qing obediently kept his eyes closed. "I won't look."
Shi Qing asked, "Hey, do you really know you were wrong?"
With his eyes closed, the young Daoist nodded. "I know."
Shi Qing continued, "Now that you know you were wrong, will you accompany me to watch the fireworks tonight? Do you agree?"
Meng Qing kept nodding with his eyes closed. "I agree."
The demon king, who was leaning on his shoulder, seemed to cry again, and his shoulder became even wetter.
The young Daoist found it increasingly difficult to bear.
He had only agreed to watch fireworks, but the demon king was so moved by this simple act. It showed how difficult his life had been before.
Shi Qing continued, "I also want to eat Li Tang's cake tomorrow. Will you accompany me?"
Meng Qing nodded again. "Okay."
"And in the future, don't always use harsh words against me. Occasionally, be with me, hold my hand proactively. We are destined for each other, and even if you don't want to admit it, you can't change it."
The young Daoist, who had just agreed happily, hesitated now.
He stammered, "But I'm a Daoist."
The demon king, who was leaning on his shoulder, cried again. His shoulder felt a bit damp, and a feeling of pity welled up in Meng Qing's heart.
Shi Qing's voice was low. "I know you're a Daoist, and I'm a demon king. It's natural for you not to like me. Even if I try to please you, you still won't like me. But I don't want that. I've been like this since birth. If I had the chance, I would also want to grow up in a Daoist temple like you. I also want you to like me."
"No, no, no! That's not what I meant!" The young Daoist panicked and explained hastily, "It's not like what you think. Really, I don't dislike you."
Shi Qing asked, "If you don't dislike me, does that mean you like me?"
Meng Qing became even more flustered. "I, I..."
The demon king's voice became low again. "So, you really can't like me. Forget it, I shouldn't have forced you. I'll just grow old alone. I'm leaving."
He moved away from Meng Qing's shoulder.
The young Daoist's mind went blank, and he instinctively reached out and grabbed Shi Qing's clothing by the sound of his voice.
"I like you!"
After saying this, Meng Qing felt like his heart had stopped beating. His face turned bright red, and his eyelashes trembled as if they were playing a piano.
The air seemed to fall silent.
After a long while, Meng Qing felt Shi Qing's soft hand gently holding onto his own.
Shi Qing's voice still contained restrained joy as he asked softly, "You didn't lie to me, did you?"
Meng Qing blushed intensely, his heart pounding.
He wanted to open his eyes but remembered that Shi Qing had told him not to, so he had to keep them closed, facing Shi Qing.
"I never lie," Meng Qing stated.
The demon king retorted, "I don't believe you. You clearly dislike me. You won't even hold my hand."
"I do want to. I really want to," the young Daoist hastily held his hand tightly, blushing so much it seemed he might bleed, and softly asked, "Do you believe me now?"
Shi Qing replied, "No, what if you change your mind?"
"I won't."
Suppressing his embarrassment, Meng Qing said with his eyes closed, "A Daoist's word is as good as gold."
"That's still not safe," Shi Qing waved his hand and placed a contract in front of Meng Qing. "Open your eyes, sign it, and I'll believe you."
Meng Qing slowly opened his eyes and looked at the contract in front of him. It was similar to the previous requests made by Shi Qing. He took the pen hanging nearby and signed his name earnestly.
After signing, as he watched the contract slowly disappear, he felt relieved but also a bit melancholic, along with a mix of inexplicable embarrassment and happiness.
"That should do it," Shi Qing said satisfactorily.
Hearing Shi Qing's contented tone, Meng Qing, still blushing, raised his eyes to look at the demon king who was still standing there. He wanted to wipe away his tears.
However, when he raised his eyes, he froze.
The demon king's face was clean, with no traces of tears. He was holding an ice cream cone and looking at him.
Seeing Meng Qing's incredulous gaze, Shi Qing licked the ice cream, raising an eyebrow with a completely undetectable trace of having cried on his face.
"What's with that look?" he said.
"You... you..." The young Daoist was a bit bewildered. He asked, "You didn't cry?"
"Cry?" The demon king snorted. "Ridiculous! How could I, the great demon king, cry?"
"But I clearly felt tears..." Meng Qing lowered his head to look at his shoulder and saw some partially melted ice cream stains.
Meng Qing: "???"
Meng Qing: "..."
Shi Qing casually sat down next to him, looking at the ice cream stains. "Maybe I accidentally touched it just now."
Meng Qing: "..."
He stiffened, not daring to breathe until he felt the softness leave his shoulder. His chest began to heave violently as he took deep breaths.
"You... you..." he stammered.
"What's wrong with me?" Shi Qing reminded him, "You just signed a contract; you can't back out now."
Meng Qing: "..."
With a pair of beautiful eyes filled with confusion and helplessness, he stared at Shi Qing for a long time before finally managing to say, "You shameless!"
The demon king shrugged. "I didn't force you to sign it. It was your choice. Why scold me when you agreed willingly?"
Saying that, he leaned comfortably on Meng Qing's shoulder again and offered the ice cream cone to the young Daoist's lips.
"Try it; it's delicious."
Seeing that Meng Qing wasn't moving, he patted the young Daoist's attractive and handsome face. "Alright, alright, don't be angry. Eat it quickly, and after that, we have important matters to attend to."
The young Daoist gave Shi Qing an irritated look and took a bite of the ice cream cone.
Mmm... It's really delicious...
"Ghoul Physician, have you heard?"
After finishing one ice cream cone, Shi Qing got two more, and they sat side by side on a bench, each with an ice cream cone. Shi Qing finished his first and handed a handkerchief to Meng Qing.
Feeling stuffy, Meng Qing used the handkerchief to gently wipe the corners of Shi Qing's mouth. "I've read about it in my master's books. Ghoul Physicians aren't much different from other lingering souls."
"There are still some differences."
After Meng Qing wiped him clean, Shi Qing leaned over again, took a bite of his ice cream, and tilted his head, allowing the young Daoist to continue wiping the corners of his mouth.
"At least the Ghoul Physician I found is quite unique."
"By the way, Mirang's corpse is in the morgue downstairs. I won't be able to perform a proper exorcism, so could you do it later? After all, it was a suicide, and there may be some lingering resentment. If you exorcise him, it might make his afterlife a bit easier."
As Meng Qing held the handkerchief, his hand paused for a moment, and he looked at Shi Qing with a certain hesitation.
He had always rejected Shi Qing before, but now, as he carefully looked at the demon king, he realized that his appearance was indeed outstanding. As he continued to look, he couldn't help but blush.
"I didn't expect you to be so kind-hearted."
"Get lost!" The demon king pushed him away. "I'm just providing after-sales service."
The young Daoist was originally sitting on the outermost seat. However, since he had been so engrossed in watching Shi Qing, he was caught off guard when he was gently pushed and tumbled off the chair.
It didn't hurt, but he felt a bit disoriented.
"Are you okay?"
A young doctor passing by saw him fall and quickly helped Meng Qing up.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Meng Qing said apologetically. He had been studying Daoist arts since he was young, and in theory, he should have had a stable footing. If he hadn't been distracted by Shi Qing's trance-like state, he wouldn't have fallen so easily.
Shi Qing also stood up, saying, "Thank you, Doctor."
The young doctor smiled and said, "No problem."
"Hey, Doctor," as he was about to leave, the demon king called him back. "Could you please tell us how to get to the morgue?"
"Go straight this way, take a left into the elevator, and go down to the basement."
The doctor pointed in the direction. "This way leads to the surgical department."
"Great, thanks, Doctor."
Shi Qing pulled Meng Qing and headed in the direction indicated by the doctor. The young Daoist, who was being pulled along, felt both embarrassed and unable to resist turning around to look.
Then, the demon king forcefully turned his head back towards him.
"Why are you looking at him? I'm your lover. Look at me."
Meng Qing's face turned red again.
He cautiously glanced at the patients, nurses, and doctors passing by and whispered, "Don't say such things loudly; people might overhear."
"Whether they can hear or not is not certain."
In the elevator, Shi Qing yawned and leaned on the young Daoist's shoulder. "Hey, have you ever been to the Ghost Realm?"
"No."
Meng Qing replied, "Isn't the Ghost Realm a place only ghosts can go? If a living person goes there, they'll be pulled into the River of Death."
"Listen to those baseless rumors."
The demon king snorted. "In the Ghost Realm, anyone stronger than Yama can go there, whether they're from the righteous path like you or us evil demons. If you're stronger, you can come and go freely, seven in, seven out."
"But..." Shi Qing leaned on Meng Qing's shoulder, his eyes slightly raised as he smiled slowly. "I'd rather you go seven in and never come out."
Meng Qing looked bewildered.
"Never mind, let's talk business."
Shi Qing said, "Do you know why the leader of the Ghost Realm is called Yama, and why there are judges like Meng Po in the underworld? It's because the Ghost Realm used to be in chaos, with no one in charge. Then, a ghost, who later became Yama, cultivated in the ways of ghosts and unified the entire realm."
"This ghost directly copied the setting of the Yama Hall in China and proclaimed himself as Yama. He also appointed judges, like Meng Po and other ghost officials. That's how the Ghost Realm became a realm of reincarnation."
Meng Qing had never heard of this before; he had always thought that the Ghost Realm had existed since the beginning.
Shi Qing continued, "The Ghost Realm may not have much else, but the River of Death is truly spectacular. Every soul entering the Ghost Realm must cross the river, and their souls emit various lights, like a bridge made of light."
"I heard that if lovers hold hands and cross that bridge together, they'll be reunited in the next life."
Seeing that Meng Qing still didn't seem to understand, the demon king held his hand, raised it in front of both of them, and raised an eyebrow.
"Today, I want to go to the Ghost Realm with you, and I want to hold your hand as we cross the River of Death."
Meng Qing hesitated, "Isn't that a bad idea? We're not souls, and we might break the rules of the Ghost Realm."
"The last time I went to the Ghost Realm, Yama said the same thing." Shi Qing flashed a friendly smile at the young Daoist. "After I gave him a good beating, he never said that again."
Meng Qing: "..."
He fell silent.
Ding!
The elevator doors opened.
The two of them walked out hand in hand, and suddenly, Shi Qing asked, "Do you remember the name on the tag the doctor was wearing just now?"
Meng Qing had a good memory; otherwise, he wouldn't have surpassed his fellow disciples.
He closed his eyes and searched his memory for the name.
"Zhang Haixiang."
"He's called Zhang Haixiang."
------
Zhang Haixiang was a fairly ordinary doctor.
His family had a long tradition of medical practitioners. It was said that his great-grandfather had been a barefoot doctor, his grandfather was the village physician, and his father was also a doctor.
During his childhood, Zhang watched his father tirelessly attending to patients. His grandfather, who was already retired at the time, raised him and advised him not to become a doctor when he grew up. Zhang's father had said the same thing, although he himself had become a doctor against his father's wishes.
However, Zhang Haixiang still applied to medical school.
Whether it was due to being influenced by the many medical books that filled the bookshelves in his home or the memory of that time when his father had been in a car accident, and Zhang, still a teenager, had sat in the hallway crying, utterly hopeless.
Then, the door to the operating room had swung open, and a doctor in a white coat had walked out, telling him that his father was no longer in critical condition.
In that moment, the doctor had seemed to emit a radiant light.
Ignoring his family's objections, Zhang Haixiang applied to medical school. Even when everyone around him said, "Advising others to study medicine will bring down curses from the heavens," he remained undaunted.
Perhaps it was because of the many medical books that had influenced him since childhood, or perhaps it was the memory of that time when his father had been in a car accident, and Zhang, still a teenager, had sat in the hallway crying, completely despairing.
Then, the door to the operating room had swung open, and a doctor in a white coat had walked out, telling him that his father was no longer in critical condition.
In that moment, the doctor had seemed to emit a radiant light.
Ignoring his family's objections, Zhang Haixiang applied to medical school. Even when everyone around him said, "Advising others to study medicine will bring down curses from the heavens," he remained undaunted.
Studying medicine had its downsides: dealing with increasingly unruly patients, endless piles of books, incessant busyness, and the inability to stop working for more than ten hours at a stretch. After barely managing to lie down on a bed to sleep, a phone call would come in, and he would have to return to work.
These were all things that his parents had clearly warned him about when he decided to apply to medical school.
Zhang Haixiang still applied.
Back then, he had been young and full of idealism.
He thought, "If I don't study medicine, and if no one else studies medicine, who will take care of people when they're sick or injured?"
The life of a medical student was always busy, with an endless sea of books, numerous exams, and sleepless nights.
They rose earlier than roosters, slept later than dogs, and worked harder than oxen.
After finally graduating, there was still a lengthy internship period to endure before becoming a full-fledged doctor.
Zhang Haixiang, now an external medicine specialist, was just shy of thirty-five years old. He could still be considered young, and his face appeared youthful, but his hair had already begun to thin.
In cases of major incidents, such as multiple car accidents or bus rollovers, the concept of rest ceased to exist for doctors.
Every day was a busy day, every day was exhausting.
Yet, Zhang Haixiang was content.
He performed surgeries, he saved many lives, and each time he saved a life and saw the patient's family express their gratitude, he felt a warm glow in his heart.
This was a human life.
And he had saved it.
Not just a life, but also a family or even two.
As a doctor, Zhang Haixiang believed that his happiest moments were when he had time off and when he managed to save a life.
Although there were times when he couldn't save a life.
Patients he had worked so hard to save suddenly deteriorated or passed away right on the operating table.
After working in this profession for so many years, he had no regrets about becoming a doctor.
So many lives.
All of them saved by him.
The only regret he had was towards his parents and family.
He was married now. His wife was a teacher, and they had a five-year-old daughter. She was well-behaved and looked forward to playing with him, but as a father, he spent too little time with her.
Zhang Haixiang had been saving up his vacation days. He planned to take his whole family on a trip once he had enough days saved. But first, he had to make sure his work was in order.
Lately, there had been an unusually high number of patients coming in for stitches, one after the other. He pushed open a door with a clear purpose, revealing a young man inside who was groaning in pain with bloodstains on him.
Zhang Haixiang examined him carefully and smiled, "Alright, we just need to stitch up your knee, and you'll be fine."
"Do I need anesthesia?"
"No, you don't."
The young man waved his hands repeatedly, "Doctor, I've been in pain for so long, it hurts so much I can't even walk. Please."
"Don't worry; we have wheelchairs. You can rent one if the pain is unbearable."
Zhang Haixiang meticulously performed the procedure himself, and then stood up, saying, "There, all done. Be careful these next few days, stay away from water, and take painkillers if it hurts. I'll prescribe some for you."
"Thank you, Doctor."
The young man smiled gratefully, "This pain has been unbearable. I'm really unlucky; my truck overturned, and on top of that, I've been in pain for so long."
"Dr. Zhang, thank you so much. I've been looking for you for a while now. If it weren't for you, I would have left much earlier."
They? Zhang Haixiang was surprised that people still remembered him, a general surgeon. He smiled and replied, "What are you thinking? Even if I've stitched you up, you'll still need some time before you can walk without pain."
The young man waved his hand, "It's not like I'm still alive. All I need is the stitches. I can finally walk now. I've been in such pain."
"But, Dr. Zhang, I'll wait for you. It seems you're almost done. You've done me such a huge favor, and I've been wandering around here for so long. I know my way around, so when you're better, I can show you the way."
Zhang Haixiang thought he understood every word the young man said, but when combined, he couldn't quite comprehend the meaning. He hesitated and asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Huh?" The young man scratched his head, "Did I say something wrong? When I was looking for you earlier, I sensed your presence; it seemed like your time was approaching."
"What? What presence? What time?" Zhang Haixiang took a step back, feeling a sudden suffocation as urgent footsteps echoed from outside. Even though he only heard those footsteps, he felt a sudden weight on his chest.
Unable to resist the feeling, he pushed open the door and saw his wife, carrying their daughter, being led forward by familiar colleagues.
As they walked, perhaps in their hurry, his wife stumbled and fell to the ground. "Hey! Sister-in-law!"
"E'er!"
Zhang Haixiang instinctively stepped forward to help her, but his hand passed through her as if touching air.
He froze, staring in disbelief at his own hand.
His five-year-old daughter, sucking on a lollipop, was unharmed because she had been shielded by her mother. She happily looked around and, upon seeing Zhang Haixiang, shouted excitedly, "Daddy!"
With just that one word, his wife, who had managed to maintain her composure until now, broke down instantly. She knelt on the ground, cradling her daughter, sobbing in pain.
Colleagues rushed to comfort her, "Sister-in-law, don't cry. Dr. Zhang is in a critical condition, but he's currently in surgery. He'll be fine."
His wife shook her head, clutching her daughter as if she were a lifeline, struggling to stand up with the help of colleagues, and continued to walk forward, stumbling.
"Sister-in-law, this way."
Watching his wife and daughter being led upstairs by colleagues, Zhang Haixiang stood there in a daze, lowering his head to look at his own hands.
What's going on...
He seemed to understand something deep down. He instinctively walked towards the elevator, but the doors closed just as he approached. So he turned and ran up the stairs.
He ran fast and anxiously, finally reaching the top floor, the operating room.
As he ran up the stairs, he could clearly see himself lying pale on the operating table, connected to a ventilator, being wheeled into the operating room.
Ding!
The elevator doors opened, and Shi Qing and Meng Qing walked out. Several others followed them, but they couldn't see them.
Shi Qing took long strides and approached Zhang Haixiang.
"It's him."
Zhang Haixiang was trembling all over, slowly raising his head. He looked at the man who had asked him for directions earlier and said, "He's Zhang Haixiang. He worked continuously for fifteen hours, overworked himself, and lost consciousness while in surgery. He has been practicing ghost medicine and his lifespan ends today."
"He was 35 years old. Cause of death: overwork."
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