I’m Doomed! I Got Trapped in a Dream! [12]

While Keqing was still chasing Stormterror Dvalin’s tail and blasting away in the skies, back in the real-world Liyue, her sudden collapse had thrown the rest of the Qixing into utter chaos.

They had immediately sealed off all information, detained everyone who needed detaining, and placed Wanmin Restaurant under lockdown pending investigation.

Now, within a guest chamber on the third floor of Yuehai Pavilion, the windows were shut tight, guards of the Millelith stood watch outside, and visitors were turned away without exception. Unauthorized personnel weren’t even allowed near the room before being driven off.

Inside, there were only three people: Keqing, lying unconscious in bed; Ganyu, secretary to the Qixing; and Baizhu, the renowned physician from Bubu Pharmacy, whom they’d specially invited to examine Keqing.

Keqing lay motionless on a plain single bed at the center of the room. Baizhu sat in a chair beside her, focused intently as he took her pulse.

Beyond reading it by touch, he would occasionally reach into his portable wooden case and retrieve a variety of handmade or heirloom medical tools, carefully checking every part of Keqing’s condition, missing no detail. Even the little snake coiled around his neck emitted a soft green glow as it assisted.

As the diagnosis progressed, Baizhu’s expression shifted from faint surprise to calm comprehension. His previously stern face gradually softened.

Ganyu had been standing to the side the whole time, her face etched with worry and unease, eyes fixed on Baizhu’s every movement. Several times, she seemed about to ask something, only to hold back for fear of disturbing the examination.

She glanced down at Keqing. The woman who was usually so full of drive and energy now lay utterly still, helpless beneath Baizhu’s hands. Though his methods were entirely professional and caused no harm, the sight of Keqing so vulnerable—so unlike her usual self—elicited a deep sense of pity.

Back at Wanmin Restaurant, the moment she fainted, Keqing had knocked over a bowl and some dishes. Her usual purple dress was soaked through with broth and stained with soup. The once-elegant fabric now clung damply to her legs—left unchanged, she’d likely develop a rash within the day.

Thankfully, Ganyu had acted quickly. She’d removed Keqing’s dress and stockings, fetched hot water herself, and wiped Keqing down inside and out three times. Afterward, she’d dressed her in a simple white sleep gown, preventing any secondary harm while she remained unconscious.

...

Finally, after a long and complex round of diagnostics, Baizhu lowered his hands, gave a gentle smile, and turned to Ganyu, speaking in his usual warm tone.

“Lady Ganyu, the diagnosis is complete. Please rest assured—Lady Keqing has not sustained any physical injury.”

“Eh?” Ganyu blinked in surprise, visibly relieved but still slightly doubtful.

“You heard correctly. Though her collapse looked frightening, my examination confirms that Lady Keqing has merely fallen into a deep sleep. There are no signs of poisoning or any curse-related affliction.”

“I... see...” Ganyu turned to look again at the peacefully sleeping Keqing.

Her breathing was calm, her expression serene.

“To be thorough, I examined every known cause of unconsciousness—including malevolent influences and remnants of godly corruption—but found nothing out of place.”

Ganyu nodded slowly.

“In fact, Lady Ganyu,” Baizhu added, noticing her lingering concern, “among the known causes of unconsciousness, the most serious ones—”

Seeing that she still wasn’t fully at ease, Baizhu decided to give her a brief medical primer on the subject.

As he explained, Ganyu’s tension gradually melted away. Her expression relaxed considerably, and she glanced back at Keqing on the bed.

“More than that, based on her pulse, Lady Keqing’s physical condition is surprisingly good—healthier, in fact, than when I last saw her.”

“I almost get the impression that she’s usually overworked, and this period of sleep has allowed her to recover. Barring unforeseen circumstances, I expect she’ll wake by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Even someone as experienced as Baizhu sounded a little amazed by this unprecedented case. There was a genuine sense of wonder in his voice.

“Mm... thank you, Doctor Baizhu.” Ganyu finally let out a deep breath and smiled for the first time in hours. She gave a gentle nod and said, “To have a physician like you in Liyue is a blessing—not just for the city, but for Keqing. Once she wakes, we’ll thank you in person.”

“You flatter me, Lady Ganyu. If there’s nothing else, I shall take my leave.” Baizhu gave a polite smile and bowed before turning to go.

...

While Baizhu was examining Keqing, elsewhere in Liyue—inside an unknown, shadowy interrogation room—Yelan sat at a desk, meticulously organizing the records from her most recent questioning.

No one knew exactly where this “little black room” was located. Its windows and doors were perpetually sealed, the panes reinforced to keep out all light. Whether it was day or night, the room remained in darkness.

The furnishings were sparse: a solid wooden table sat at the center, lit only by a few burning candles that served as the sole source of illumination.

Beside them were a few open case files and a writing brush still wet with ink. On either side of the desk stood two chairs—one a simple, armless seat for the subject, the other a tall, formal taishi chair meant for the interrogator.

Yelan, dressed in her signature deep blue, draped in a white cloak, her dark hair streaked with hints of matching blue, sat in the larger chair with one leg crossed over the other. One hand rubbed her chin while the other held the interrogation notes, flipping through them as she mentally reviewed the details.

The suspect, a young girl named Xiangling, appeared to truly know nothing. No matter how Yelan tried to pressure her—through veiled threats, indirect hints, or subtle manipulation—she couldn’t extract a single piece of useful information.

Not a single crack. Xiangling’s expressions, tone of voice, every twitch and gesture… under Yelan’s expert scrutiny, none of it seemed fake.

And that made things all the more baffling. Wanmin Restaurant wasn’t large, and the staff was limited. The plate of golden shrimp balls had just come out of the wok and was personally brought to Keqing by Xiangling. There was no third party involved.

So if Xiangling herself hadn’t poisoned the food, who could’ve done it in such a short span of time?

Just as Yelan was reconstructing the scene in her mind, trying to work through the timeline, a subordinate delivered a new report—cutting off her train of thought completely.

The report detailed a full sweep of Wanmin Restaurant during the lockdown. No toxins, no hallucinogens, no drugs capable of inducing unconsciousness were found.

“Nothing?” Yelan scanned the report, her first response a moment of disbelief. Then her expression shifted to one of delighted intrigue. “Heh… now this is getting interesting.”

Tossing aside her brush, Yelan rose from her chair and left the interrogation room.

She could smell the scent of a big fish.

---

T/N: poor XIangling

This is a fan translation of 完蛋！我被锁在梦里了 by 六轩岛润人芙宁娜. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!