The DVD vendors at the Night Market often carried some real heavy stuff—films that could never be officially imported in the country.
Some were because of pornography, but even more were due to being cult films or just plain bizarre.
Most of them were shoddily made, substituting cheap fake blood and comical rubber props for quality, but those exaggerated bloody scenes always left Shen Yao with unbearable memories from his childhood.
He remembered once renting a disc that had “Happy Ghost’s Summer Vacation” printed on the cover, but the actual content was some foreigner’s awful cult movie.
The plot couldn’t stand scrutiny; it was just a bunch of brainless American High School Students going to a Water Park for fun, only to get killed one by one by a Murderer.
The people in it were as fragile as tofu, as if a single touch would turn them into mush.
Yet there was one scene that left a deep impression on him: the Murderer had set up a pair of massive Crossed Guillotines on the water slide, slicing the men and women sliding down into neat tofu cubes.
What if something like that happened in real life?
Would people get chopped up just like in the movies, or would their bones and muscles get stuck on the blades, leaving them half-alive, half-dead?
When he saw those Crossed Guillotines at the end of the tunnel, Shen Yao instinctively turned to look at Cheng Orange, who was blissfully unaware and lost in joy.
Her smile was so happy, her teeth neat and white, her eyes shining with reflected neon lights.
Because of that single glance, a surge of indescribable terror welled up in Shen Yao’s heart.
He was afraid those Crossed Guillotines were actually real, not just a hallucination.
So he gripped Cheng Orange’s hand tightly, pressing hard on her shoulder: “Cheng Orange, duck down!”
“Shen Yao?”
“Cheng Orange! Listen to me! There are Crossed Guillotines ahead!”
He didn’t want to see Cheng Orange torn to pieces, not even as a hallucination.
Cheng Orange looked ahead in confusion, but still followed Shen Yao’s instructions.
But it was no use—the Safety Belt fixed them in place, so no matter how much they ducked, they couldn’t avoid the Crossed Guillotines.
He tried to push the Safety Belt away, but couldn’t move at all.
Shen Yao could only watch helplessly as he and Cheng Orange rushed toward those Crossed Guillotines.
At the last moment, he closed his eyes in despair.
Suddenly, he noticed a flash of white before his eyes.
When he opened them, they had already exited the tunnel.
Just as relief started to set in, he heard the laughter from behind abruptly stop.
He turned to look and saw the family of four in the back row still sitting neatly in their seats—only all their heads had vanished, blood slowly seeping from the stumps of their necks, an utterly horrifying sight.
He slowly turned his head to the side, only to see Cheng Orange next to him in the same state…
*
“Shen Yao! Shen Yao!”
Cheng Orange’s call yanked Shen Yao out of his nightmare.
He was drenched in sweat, still gripping Cheng Orange’s hand so tightly it hurt her, but she didn’t try to break free. She just let him hold on.
“Shen Yao, Shen Yao… I’m here, I’m here!” Cheng Orange’s voice trembled.
She didn’t know what was wrong with Shen Yao—he had suddenly started shouting her name, then his whole body shook, his eyes lost focus.
One of her Uncles had Epilepsy; Shen Yao’s appearance was just like during one of his seizures.
She was terrified—terrified that something might happen to Shen Yao.
But there was nothing she could do, except hold his hand tightly and call to him, over and over, telling him she was right there.
Shen Yao’s blank gaze gradually cleared. Looking at the unharmed Cheng Orange, the lingering fear in his heart still refused to fade.
“Shen Yao, Shen Yao, I’m here, I’m here.” Cheng Orange’s voice was urgent.
When she saw Shen Yao slowly returning to normal, she finally burst into tears. “Thank goodness, Shen Yao, thank goodness!”
Shen Yao reached out, gently wiping away her tears. “Don’t cry, Cheng Orange… don’t cry… I just, just…” He hesitated for a long time. “I’m just a little tired.”
The Roller Coaster ride ended, and Cheng Orange supported Shen Yao as they left their seats.
It was his first time, the very first time, that Urban Legend Syndrome had affected someone close to him.
He secretly decided—he absolutely could not let the Syndrome affect himself and those around him again.
He could not let fear take over his heart.
The two of them supported each other in silence and made their way to a bench in the amusement park.
Cheng Orange gently helped him sit down, then hurried off to buy him some ice water.
Afterwards, she fanned him with all her strength from the side.
She only hoped Shen Yao would get better, that he would have no more disasters or illnesses, and that she herself would never have to ride a Roller Coaster again.
Guilt weighed on Shen Yao’s heart. “Cheng Orange, I’m fine now. Really.”
Cheng Orange didn’t reply, just kept fanning him harder.
“I’m just too tired lately… all those Ghost Stories… those things… they’ve worn me out.” He explained weakly.
“……”
“Cheng Orange.” He held Cheng Orange’s wrist. “That’s enough. It’s enough now.”
Cheng Orange stared at him, then suddenly turned her head away, her expression resolute. “Shen Yao… you’re not like this… you shouldn’t be like this…”
She shook off Shen Yao’s hand. “Shen Yao, you shouldn’t be like this! You’re not like any of them… you’re smarter than anyone, braver, more proactive, healthier, kinder, and more just than anyone.”
“Cheng Orange…”
“You study better than anyone in our school, everyone says you can get into a university in the Capital. You survived such a harsh environment; you’re stronger than me, than Qiao Yunxue, stronger than anyone. You can thoughtfully forgive my childishness and ignorance, tolerate the times I offended you.”
Her voice shook.
“Shen Yao, in my heart, you’re supposed to be the most special, the best—you can’t be like Qiao Yunxue, you can’t become what they say…”
“Cheng Orange, I…”
“You never got motion sickness before, and you never lost control like this.” She cut him off.
“You never lied to me, never took risks doing things unrelated to your main goal, never disappeared right after school. But since you got involved with Qiao Yunxue, everything about you has become strange—you’re nothing like the Shen Yao I used to know! The Shen Yao I knew is getting further and further away from me!”
“What did she drag you into, making you like this—making the Shen Yao I care about most become like this?” She sobbed.
These emotions had long been hidden in her heart, only to burst out now under the weight of fear.
Shen Yao couldn’t respond. Everything Cheng Orange said was true—he couldn’t argue, couldn’t explain.
Any protest would just be a shameful lie.
Ever since he started spending time with Qiao Yunxue, he had begun to slide toward an unfathomable abyss.
Cheng Orange realized she’d lost her composure and wiped away her tears.
“Shen Yao, more than anyone, I want you to be better, I want you to be healthy and happy more than anyone. But what about Qiao Yunxue? What does she want you to do?”
“What does she want to turn you into? Someone mentally ill like her? You say she’s not mentally ill, but everyone says she is, everyone calls her a lunatic—why are you the only one who doesn’t think so?!”
Shen Yao quietly said, “Cheng Orange, let’s go back.”
Just that simple sentence easily scattered all the resentment in Cheng Orange’s heart.
Cheng Orange was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.
Sometimes, not answering is already an answer.