“You’ve failed completely, whether as a brother or in any other role.”
Qiao Yunxue spoke with biting sarcasm.
There were some things only a fellow patient like her could see clearly.
People safe on the shore would never notice a fish near death; by the time they saw it stranded, it would already be too late.
Her words were both mockery and warning—sooner or later, Shen Yao would return to his world, so at the very least, Cheng Orange needed to wake up a bit, didn’t she?
“Give him a little hope to live, and give yourself a chance too.”
Qiao Yunxue continued, saying things she herself didn’t understand, as if she was handing her own task over to someone else.
“As for little Watchers like him, I can summon them and dismiss them at will. I can have as many as I want, so of course I don’t care. Once this is over, I won’t need him anymore. He won’t be delayed in taking whatever lousy university entrance exam he wants. Is that good enough for you?”
Cheng Orange’s anger flared at her words. “Shen Yao is not your Watcher! You’ll never find anyone better than Shen Yao in your whole life!”
“Oh? Really? He has no money, he’s not handsome, aren’t there people like him everywhere on the street?”
She sat beside Shen Yao, gazing at him.
“People like him, they just bury their heads in work, don’t understand romance, can’t say anything witty, don’t have a bit of gentlemanly charm, and on top of that, have serious psychological issues. Do you really think anyone would care about him?”
“You… you…” Cheng Orange was so furious she could barely breathe. “Someone like you isn’t even worthy of being compared to Shen Yao!”
Qiao Yunxue looked at her with disdain. “Enough, I have things to do. Shen Yao is sleeping well right now. If you know what’s good for you, don’t call again.” She decisively hung up and deleted the call record.
Afterward, she quietly stared at her phone, thinking over the cruel, cold words she had just spoken.
She couldn’t help but laugh at herself, pulled Shen Yao’s quilt up around him, then returned to her desk to continue adding to her Research Notes.
So people can really be this hypocritical… She never thought she could say such utterly insincere things.
What right did she have to criticize Qiao Enshi?
It seemed people really did need to be a little hypocritical to survive in this world.
This time, the operation hadn’t been without gains.
After Shen Yao woke up and described the Red Sea of Flowers, it especially caught her attention.
The Red Sea of Flowers had nothing terrifying about it, only symbolic meaning—perhaps it was an expression of something in Shen Yao’s subconscious within the Zero Dimension.
More importantly, she felt she vaguely understood how ordinary people could access the Zero Dimension.
High Inspiration, Hallucination, and Near-Death.
She wrote these three terms on the paper, circling “Near-Death” in particular.
Death.
How could she have forgotten?
Her mother had only entered the Zero Dimension after dying, and for ages, legends said people enter another world after death. If you still have your physical body, how could you travel to another dimension?
Such a simple question, and yet she hadn’t realized it.
But a normal accidental Near-Death clearly didn’t work. She’d tried slitting her wrists before, but at that time, she never saw anything like the Zero Dimension—only the weakness from blood loss and the sensation that everything around her was getting hotter and hotter.
Did it have to be something related to Strangeness?
Killed by Strangeness? Or by something related to Strangeness?
But were there any more Strangeness cases in Guang City?
Qiao Yunxue frowned, thinking hard, and suddenly, she understood.
Strangeness had always been there.
If everything Shen Yao saw wasn’t a Hallucination, then didn’t that mean all of it was Strangeness?
The ceiling fan with blades hidden inside, the piano wire stretched across the motorcycle lane, the dangerous roller coaster—these were all scenes where Strangeness appeared! With her current level of inspiration, couldn’t she actively trigger a Strangeness?
In an instant, everything became clear before her eyes; the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
She wept with joy. Finally, finally she had a chance to enter that world! Years ago, fear and hesitation had made her miss her chance to reunite with her mother. Now, seven years later, she finally had a chance to find her again!
She stood up and paced excitedly.
Thank you, Shen Yao, for helping her solve the answer after seven years of effort.
Though Shen Yao had clearly grown suspicious before he left, it was enough.
From now on, she didn’t need Shen Yao to investigate Strangeness anymore, and Shen Yao wouldn’t get sick anymore—he could return to his own life, and she could enter the Zero Dimension! It was the perfect ending!
That was what she thought.
Perfect. An ending with no one hurt.
But.
When Shen Yao placed his watch on the table today, what was with that cold look in his eyes?
Qiao Yunxue couldn’t bear his gaze, so she picked up her teacup and turned away.
She was afraid—afraid to meet Shen Yao’s eyes, choosing instead to escape like this. She forced herself to calm down.
This was supposed to be a perfect ending, so why did her heart pound with panic, this uneasiness stronger than ever before?
It was only a brief deception, a brief use of him, but the ending was happy, wasn’t it?
Then why… was Shen Yao so cold?
Why did she feel… feel…
Her heart was shattering, bit by bit?
Sometimes in lonely nights, she pondered what love was. Her shallow understanding of love came entirely from the lonely, obsessive, Poisonous Love her mother had for her father.
Back then, to her, love was something terrifying—it destroyed the mind, turned a good person into something pitiful.
Love was also a false thing—the false feelings her father had for her mother.
So many people in this world lived with too much hypocrisy; she didn’t need to be that hypocritical.
She thought she no longer needed love, neither to love nor to be loved.
Then what was this feeling she had for Shen Yao?
Sure enough… this feeling… was…
Was…
And now, she regretted it. She wished Shen Yao wouldn’t look at her like that, wished Shen Yao would go back to being that Watcher who hovered around him.
Her voice trembled as she held back tears: “Shen Yao, it’s not too late to regret. You can still stay.” She knew it was impossible, yet she still said it. Rather than a demand, it was more of a plea.
Only when she looked back did she realize that the brief time with Shen Yao was the highlight of her life since her mother’s death.
They buried themselves in researching the rules of Strangeness together, discussed where to look for Strangeness, supported each other under the pressure of Strangeness, and checked in with each other in their daily lives…
Qiao Yunxue, what’s wrong with you? Didn’t you say you wanted to become cold enough? Proud enough?
What’s wrong with you now?
Shen Yao asked why she was monitoring him, and she said it was for safety.
Shen Yao asked why she gave him fake medicine, and she said the milk tablets weren’t fake.
Shen Yao asked why she deceived him, but she couldn’t answer.
Everything she said was the truth, yet now, these truths were worthless.
Just like herself—she had always been a worthless person, only once valued by Shen Yao, but now, even Shen Yao wouldn’t look at her the same way again.
This kind of pain made her wish for death, pain that cut to the bone, until at last, nothing was left but numbness.
This was Qiao Yunxue’s insignificant story, her insignificant heart, her insignificant everything.
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