“Strange tales in this world are not only born from darkness and deceit—they can stand tall beneath the blazing sun. They are not monsters that fear the light. Rather, they are more like natural phenomena. Humans and the uncanny are as crocodiles and Egyptian plovers—ever coexisting, mutually dependent.”
Since Shen Yao was diagnosed with Urban Legend Disorder, seventy-two hours had passed.
This time, the strange tale wasn’t some folklore or odd rumor, but sprang from his own inner fears—his fears about the mundane.
I do not know what Shen Yao has gone through, but I’m astonished by the depth of his insecurity, so profound that at every moment, it triggers hallucinations of the Zero Dimension.
I wish I could do something for him, but I can’t even save myself—how could I possibly save another?
Still, it is thanks to him that after this, I will never drag him into this again. Just as I promised her.
July 14th, recorded at the Yaoguang City villa. Supplement to my research on anomalous phenomena.
Shen Yao was awakened by the sound of a ballpoint pen scribbling across paper.
To most, this noise would be a soothing white noise conducive to sleep, but for Shen Yao, it was anything but. That subtle rustling, that soft scratch, brought him back to that twilight ablaze with Red Cloud—the evening when The Fire devoured everything. There had been that same fragmented noise, right before the flames consumed all.
He jolted upright in bed, discovering that he was lying in a guest room at Qiao Yunxue’s house.
Clutching his head, memories stabbed at him like needles, leaving his mind in agony. “How did I end up here? Weren’t we… at the Swimming Hall?”
Qiao Yunxue put down her pen and closed her Notebook. “You’re awake? You drowned at the Swimming Hall. I had someone bring you back.”
Shen Yao stared at the Starlight outside the window, still feeling disconnected from reality. “How long was I out?”
“The whole day.”
“The whole day?!” Shen Yao sat up in shock, only then noticing he’d somehow changed into a fresh set of pajamas. “Did Aunt call for me?”
Qiao Yunxue lifted her chin toward the nightstand. “Your phone’s there. Your aunt called; I answered for you.”
Shen Yao checked his phone. Sure enough, there was a missed call from Aunt at seven this morning.
He let out a quiet sigh of relief, then remembered something else and opened QQ.
His chat with Cheng Orange still lingered on the last message: “On my way.”
“Did anyone else call me?”
“Who? You mean your childhood friend? Chengcheng or Cheng Orange?” Qiao Yunxue retorted. “No, only your aunt called.”
Shen Yao felt a little disappointed. He’d thought Cheng Orange would care more about him.
Rubbing his head, he tried to recall the scene when he drowned. “…How did I drown? The pool was so shallow…”
Qiao Yunxue continued writing in her research Notebook.
“I don’t know. When I found you, you were already at the bottom of the pool, completely unresponsive no matter how I called you. Your Urban Legend Disorder flared up again. What did you see?”
Shen Yao recalled, “Water… the abyss… When I jumped into the pool, I suddenly found myself in the deep sea, and a… a serpent, at least two thousand meters long, was following me the whole time…”
Qiao Yunxue quickly wrote down his words. “Deep sea? A giant serpent? Did you ever drown as a child?”
“I did, when I was six. I saw a Multicolored Water Snake in the water that time.”
Qiao Yunxue nodded. “So this time’s hallucination is an intensified version of your childhood fear of drowning. You saw a snake then, and you saw one now. Fascinating… absolutely fascinating…”
She repeated “fascinating” three times, as if she had found a pattern.
“There’s more…”
“There’s more?” Qiao Yunxue was stunned. Besides his fear of the deep sea and the giant serpent, what else was there?
“Just before I was swallowed by the serpent and lost consciousness, I saw a Red Sea of Flowers.”
Qiao Yunxue’s pen paused, her face filled with puzzlement.
“A pure red sea of flowers, and a small Gravestone. Someone very important to the owner of the sea of flowers was buried there.”
Qiao Yunxue’s expression shifted from confusion to astonishment, then finally to delight. “Shen Yao… keep going! Tell me more!”
“There was a name engraved on the Gravestone. It was a woman’s name.”
“What was her name?”
“I don’t know.” Shen Yao rubbed his temples. “I tried to get closer, tried to see the name clearly, but… I just can’t remember what happened after that.”
Qiao Yunxue took several deep breaths. “Red Sea of Flowers, Gravestone, Red Sea of Flowers, Gravestone… Shen Yao, do you know how important your visions are to me? This is an enormous breakthrough!”
“What is it?”
“The Red Sea of Flowers you saw must be a scene from the Zero Dimension! In that moment between life and death, you briefly reached the Zero Dimension… But why was it a sea of flowers? Why did you see a woman’s Gravestone?”
Qiao Yunxue was puzzled again. “Do you know any women who like Red Sea of Flowers?”
Shen Yao shook his head, then seemed to remember something—only to immediately deny it, shaking his head harder.
“I feel awful. Urban Legend Disorder is messing with my ability to distinguish reality from illusion,” Shen Yao said, pained.
A flicker of guilt flashed across Qiao Yunxue’s face, but she hid it well. “I promise you, Shen Yao, your problem will be resolved soon. You won’t have to suffer from Urban Legend Disorder any longer.”
“Qiao Yunxue, are you hiding something from me?” Shen Yao suddenly asked. “There’s a lot you haven’t told me, isn’t there?”
Qiao Yunxue frowned. “Haven’t I told you everything I know?”
“But you never once warned me about Urban Legend Disorder.”
“I thought… I thought you wouldn’t be affected by it.” Qiao Yunxue turned away.
“No. That’s not right.” Shen Yao shook his head repeatedly, his mind clearer than ever.
“Urban Legend Disorder is the aftermath of confronting the uncanny. Anyone who survives that kind of mortal terror is bound to develop it. There must be records about this on the Forum Eye of Berlin—even dedicated Mutual Aid Groups. And you encountered the uncanny seven years before I did, so you must have experienced Urban Legend Disorder yourself.”
Seeing she couldn’t hide it any longer, Qiao Yunxue said, “…You’re right. I did anticipate that you would develop Urban Legend Disorder. But… I didn’t expect your symptoms to be so severe. Maybe it’s because your Inspiration is unusually high? I initially thought you’d recover after a while, that you wouldn’t even realize anything was wrong.”
Shen Yao frowned in thought. Qiao Yunxue had no reason to harm him. Could it really be that she’d just overlooked it?
“Camera,” he suddenly said.
“What?”
“The camera at the Swimming Hall. I want to see what I recorded.” He couldn’t shake the feeling that his hallucinations might not be entirely false—the scenes had been too real.
Qiao Yunxue took out a prepared Digital Camera and pulled up the photos.
“You only took a few pictures of the pool—nothing unusual,” Qiao Yunxue said.
Shen Yao stared at the playback on the Digital Camera, sinking into deep self-doubt.
The images showed nothing but an ordinary pool.
No deep sea, no giant finned squid, certainly no Abyssal Serpent—just a regular, poorly maintained pool.