After the Telephone Urban Legend, her attitude towards Shen Yao changed quietly.
This change was not obvious; it existed only deep within her heart.
In the past, she had merely treated Shen Yao as a tool, a pet to accept whatever crumbs she bestowed.
But now, she actually wished more for Shen Yao to stay away from those dangerous urban legends, to stop risking his life time and again.
He had his own life, a childhood friend who loved him but dared not confess; he shouldn’t be tangled up with her.
So, for some time afterward, Qiao Yunxue didn’t take the initiative to contact Shen Yao.
She needed some time to digest her own emotions, to understand the reason for her shift in attitude toward Shen Yao.
That’s why, when Shen Yao sought her out that day, she was actually very happy inside.
But she didn’t know how to express that joy to Shen Yao, and couldn’t bear to lose face, so she could only raise the car-washing hose, expressing her happiness by provoking Shen Yao.
It sounded ridiculous, but that was how Qiao Yunxue expressed her emotions.
Qiao Enshi was right—she didn’t even possess the ability to communicate like a normal person; in a social sense, she was disabled.
Fortunately, Shen Yao didn’t hold it against her; she was sincerely grateful to him.
Shen Yao explained to her that he’d encountered a problem.
With her years of research into the strange, Qiao Yunxue instantly understood that Shen Yao was suffering from Urban Legend Disorder.
She hadn’t expected that, in highly inspired people, Urban Legend Disorder would manifest as illusions that blurred the line between reality and fantasy; most patients mentioned on the Forum only exhibited persecution delusions.
She felt a bit of regret—regret that she’d caused Shen Yao to fall into the torment of this disorder.
The Forum said that taking antidepressants could relieve the symptoms, but Qiao Yunxue knew that was useless, because she’d tried it herself; the medicine was bitter and astringent, but it did nothing to ease the disorder.
Urban Legend Disorder, rather than being treatable with outside means, required self-adjustment.
So she put her favorite milk tablets into the Medicine Box and handed them to Shen Yao.
On one hand, it could provide him with some psychological comfort; on the other, it would let him eat something sweet and help him keep a good mood.
But this couldn’t go on forever…
If she kept bringing Shen Yao to investigate strange incidents, his disorder would flare up again.
Yet without Shen Yao’s help, she couldn’t fulfill her long-cherished wish.
Qiao Yunxue pondered for a long time, finally finding the optimal solution.
In “On Inspiration,” the author mentioned that spending long periods with people of high inspiration could increase one’s own inspiration.
The essence of this was that highly inspired people were always exchanging information with the Zero Dimension, perpetually existing in a material state that superimposed Zero Dimension and reality.
In other words, as long as she could maintain this state herself, she wouldn’t need Shen Yao to complete her upcoming work.
And as for how to make contact with the Zero Dimension, there was actually a very direct and simple way.
That was to be present when Shen Yao’s hallucinations occurred.
Shen Yao’s hallucinations were all real scenes from the Zero Dimension.
As long as she could attempt to observe or immerse herself in those hallucinations, her inspiration would greatly increase.
For Shen Yao’s safety, and to make her own actions easier, Qiao Yunxue gave Shen Yao a new Monitor Watch.
She didn’t tell Shen Yao the truth, because she knew that, if she did, Shen Yao’s sense of responsibility would never allow him to agree.
He was a good person, but he shouldn’t be so good to her.
To ensure that Shen Yao wouldn’t be affected by hallucinations, she would constantly send him QQ messages, hoping to keep in contact with him.
She would also monitor the phone’s signal whenever she had the chance.
She knew that Shen Yao would surely be angry if he found out, but she had no other way.
She also knew that, if she could communicate properly, Shen Yao might agree, but she simply didn’t know how.
This was Qiao Yunxue.
This was her optimal solution.
That morning, she lay slouched at the Monitor Station, dozing off with headphones on.
She really wasn’t good at monitoring someone—it was even more exhausting than paying attention in class.
Suddenly, she heard static in her headphones, followed by Shen Yao’s terrified voice:
“Cheng Orange, get down!”
She instantly snapped to attention.
It seemed Shen Yao’s symptoms had flared up again.
She listened intently, hearing only the howling wind in the background and Shen Yao’s panicked shouts.
The more she listened, the more guilty she felt.
Shen Yao must really care about Cheng Orange; if not for her, the two of them would probably be like any other couple…
She had used Shen Yao’s feelings for her to destroy the harmony that should have existed between two childhood sweethearts.
Suddenly, she heard a crunching sound in the background, like flesh being shredded.
She was a little frightened, worried that Shen Yao was in danger.
But in the next instant, all the static in her headphones vanished, and then Cheng Orange’s tearful voice came through: “Shen Yao, Shen Yao… are you okay?”
She was still in shock.
What was that sound just now?
Was it a sound from Shen Yao’s hallucination?
So it wasn’t purely an illusion, after all?
She kept listening and heard Cheng Orange’s emotional outburst:
“…Shen Yao, more than anyone, I want you to be better, more than anyone, I want you to be healthy and happy. But what about Qiao Yunxue? What does she want you to do? What does she want you to become? Another lunatic like her? You say she’s not mentally ill, but everyone says she’s crazy, says she’s a madwoman—why are you the only one who doesn’t see it?!”
“……Cheng Orange, let’s go back.”
Qiao Yunxue fell into a long silence.
She didn’t know what she was feeling in that moment, what expression she should have.
She didn’t know.
She only knew to sit there in a daze, as helpless as a child waiting for her mother.
She only knew she couldn’t go on like this.
She and Shen Yao—no, it was Shen Yao who couldn’t be tangled up with Qiao Yunxue any longer.
If this went on, the ones who’d be hurt wouldn’t just be Shen Yao, but herself, and that girl named Cheng Orange, and Shen Yao’s only family.
She called Shen Yao back, still using her lofty tone, as if that could hide the storm of emotions inside her.
She thought of the rumors about aquaphobia on the internet.
She wanted to actively trigger Shen Yao’s Urban Legend Disorder and solve the inspiration issue once and for all.
That way, she would never need Shen Yao again, and he could live a wonderful life of his own.
So she couldn’t wait to invite Shen Yao to the Swimming Hall in Xilin City, making up a poorly constructed urban legend as an excuse.
Shen Yao still trusted her, never doubting a word of her nonsense.
What was there in her to be trusted, anyway?
After ending the call, she turned off the monitoring device.
She felt she’d already gone far enough; she didn’t want to hear Shen Yao’s terrified voice any longer.
Just the thought of Shen Yao’s heart-wrenching screams made her chest tighten, as if a vague pain was squeezing her heart.
It was all her fault.
But soon, it would be over.
Both Qiao Yunxue’s life, and Shen Yao’s suffering.