Chapter 5

“No hope left.”

The community security guard on the inflatable raft shook his head and shouted to the guard standing at the bridgehead.

The guard at the bridgehead held a walkie-talkie and asked, “Have the police arrived? Has the surveillance footage been checked?”

An elderly woman standing nearby suddenly recognized him. “Isn’t that the boy from Building 5? I think he just started his senior year this year. Such a tragedy!”

“How did he fall in?”

“Who’s going to notify his parents?”

“Do we have their phone number?”

“No idea.”

“I’m from Building 5; I know which floor he lives on!”

“Quick, go! Hurry and call his parents! Come on!”

The once quiet crowd began to chatter loudly.

“Let’s go home,” Mrs. Zhou frowned deeply and even tried to cover Zhou Huaixia’s eyes. “Child, don’t look at this—it’ll give you nightmares.”

“Mom, I’m an adult now.” Zhou Huaixia blocked her mother’s hand and stared at the boy in the lake. Just last night, she had entered his dream and saw him breaking down in the exam room; now, in the morning, she saw his body in the lake.

Mrs. Zhou pulled Zhou Huaixia back toward home, not allowing her to stay in the park any longer.

“Xia, if you’re under any pressure, make sure to tell us,” Mrs. Zhou said anxiously. She glanced at Zhou Huaixia, who remained silent, and asked, “Are you frightened?”

“No,” Zhou Huaixia came back to herself, unsure if she was comforting her mother or herself. “Maybe he just lost his footing and fell.”

But dreams are connected to the dreamer’s emotions.

Given the boy’s breakdown last night, it was hard for Zhou Huaixia not to overthink.

“You need to be careful when you’re out,” Mrs. Zhou warned with a furrowed brow. “Don’t go out alone at night, and always watch your step.”

“I will,” Zhou Huaixia replied.

The two had just returned home when they ran into Mr. Zhou, who was about to leave. Upon seeing them, he asked, “I was just about to look for you. The boy from Building 5, Unit 1701, jumped into the lake around 4 a.m. Did you see anything?”

Zhou Huaixia: “…Dad, how do you know?”

He recited the boy’s residence, time of death, and cause in one breath.

Mr. Zhou raised his phone: “Someone posted surveillance footage in the group chat.”

Mrs. Zhou tried to stop him, but Zhou Huaixia reached out and took the phone first. “Let me see.”

There were several group chats in the community, all flooding with messages. After scrolling for a while, she found a secretly recorded surveillance video.

In the park, a round-faced boy wearing a dark blue long-sleeve pajama top was briskly walking along a path. One hand took off his glasses; the other slapped his own face hard, so forcefully that even through the grainy footage, his face quickly became red and swollen. He seemed to be muttering nervously.

Zhou Huaixia’s eyes fixed on the boy’s lips, instantly recalling the curses he uttered in her dream—words like “damned” and “loser.”

The boy didn’t notice a raised stone brick beneath his feet and suddenly tripped. His glasses flew out of his hand and fell into the nearby bushes.

He pushed himself up with both hands but didn’t look for his glasses. Instead, he stood frozen for a long time, as if drained of his soul, his clenched teeth the only sign of the emotional turmoil raging inside him.

After a moment, the round-faced boy moved—not to find his glasses, but to sprint toward the stone bridge, grabbed the railing, climbed over, and jumped down.

A splash rose moderately on the lake surface, and the surveillance footage ended there.

Zhou Huaixia replayed the video, dragging the timeline back to the end.

4:18 a.m.

At that moment, she was sitting on the living room sofa drinking water.

In other words, the boy had woken from a nightmare, gone straight out to the community park, and then jumped into the lake.

Zhou Huaixia handed the phone back to Mr. Zhou, pressing the back of her hand to her lips to suppress the wave of nausea rising in her stomach.

This matter was unrelated to her, yet…

“The group says his parents were strict, which made him spacey,” Mr. Zhou said as he scrolled through the nonstop messages. “Maybe he did poorly on the monthly exam and got upset.”

He opened the latest video in the group chat, and sharp cries of “Son!” and “How could this happen?” from a middle-aged couple who had just arrived at the park rang out from the phone.

“Poor boy,” Mr. Zhou shook his head. “If only we put less pressure on children, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Turn off the video. Don’t stand here,” Mrs. Zhou nudged him. “It’s other people’s business; better to say less.”

“I’m tired,” Zhou Huaixia suddenly said. “Mom, Dad, I’m going to take a nap.”

Mrs. Zhou looked at her daughter, hesitated, and finally said, “Alright, I’ll call you when lunch is ready.”

Zhou Huaixia closed the door behind her and faintly heard her mother scolding her father in the living room.

“What were you thinking showing that surveillance to Xia? What if it scared her?”

“I thought—”

“Thought what? Didn’t you see her face—”

“Bang!”

Zhou Huaixia shut the door tight to block out the living room noise and collapsed onto her bed. Staring at the ceiling, her expression was weary. Even if she could enter dreams, all she could do was feel the dreamer’s emotions—nothing more.

She was just a bystander.

As long as she kept entering others’ dreams, incidents like this were bound to happen again.

…No, maybe there was something she could do.

Zhou Huaixia pulled out her phone and opened a WeChat video call.

After a few seconds, Lu Jin appeared on the other side, surprised: “Zhou Huaixia? What’s wrong?”

“I left something in the dorm,” Zhou Huaixia said, lying on the bed and glancing behind Lu Jin. “You’re not at school?”

“No, I’m at my mom’s hospital,” Lu Jin replied, sitting in front of a computer, one hand holding the phone, the other near a black keyboard, a gray-white metal cabinet behind her. She barely paid attention to Zhou Huaixia, still staring at the screen. “What did you leave in the dorm?”

Zhou Huaixia didn’t answer immediately but asked, “When will you be back at school?”

Lu Jin scrolled on her mouse: “Probably in the afternoon.”

Zhou Huaixia frowned slightly but didn’t say anything. Then her roommate asked, “You’re not going home for National Day? Staying at school the whole time?”

Wouldn’t the school cat be in danger anytime?

Lu Jin made a sound of agreement: “Yeah, my mom owns a staff dorm. I’ll stay there for National Day.”

The dorm only guaranteed basic living conditions; the staff dorm had a private balcony, kitchen, study room, and a bed almost twice as big. If it weren’t for her mother forcing her to experience college communal life, Lu Jin wouldn’t have stayed in Room 407.

Zhou Huaixia sat up slowly, eyeing her roommate like a ticking time bomb. “What time will you be back?”

“Not sure. Around three o’clock.”

“Could you send me something when you get back?”

“Sure,” Lu Jin finally looked at the video properly. “What do you want me to send?”

“A few books. Video call me when you reach the dorm.”

“Okay.” Lu Jin agreed immediately. After hanging up, she stared at her mouse in surprise and muttered, “Zhou Huaixia actually reads books?”

Curious. The queen of sleep suddenly woke up?

At 2:30 p.m., Lu Jin had just left the hospital when she received another video call from her roommate. Without much thought, she answered, “What’s up?”

“I thought you were already back at school,” Zhou Huaixia said, watching Lu Jin’s background from a bus. “I was afraid you’d forget to send the stuff.”

Lu Jin grabbed a bus strap. “Don’t worry, I made a memo. Won’t forget.”

She wasn’t wearing earphones, said a few words, then hung up.

On the other end, Zhou Huaixia estimated Lu Jin’s return time and called again around three o’clock.

“What books do you want to bring?” Lu Jin was about to send her some desktop photos and connected the video directly, turning the camera around. “Which ones?”

Zhou Huaixia glanced at the books on her roommate’s shelf—titles like *Understanding Buddhist Sutras at a Glance*, *Introduction to Cultivation*, *Self-Study of Maoshan Magic*, and even *Christian Theology*.

Her beliefs were quite diverse.

Though the clip lasted less than three seconds, Zhou Huaixia confirmed Lu Jin was indeed in the dorm. She casually picked a few books. “Please send them over. Thanks.”

After hanging up, Zhou Huaixia felt briefly at peace at home. She didn’t know when Lu Jin would carry out her twisted acts in dreams, but with the National Day holiday, the school was mostly empty—a perfect time for action.

She had to thwart Lu Jin’s plan.

A surprise video call was a simple method.

At 10:25 p.m.

“Zhou Huaixia?” Lu Jin looked at her pajama-clad roommate on the phone, puzzled. “Anything else? I’ve already sent the package and sent you the tracking number.”

Zhou Huaixia pursed her lips, eyes slightly wistful. “I’m just… a little lost.”

The unfamiliar study room had several books on the desk and a pen in her hand. There were no cat noises around, and she felt a bit relieved.

Lu Jin pushed up her glasses and took a good look at her roommate, barely managing some curiosity. “How so?”

“Ugh, I’ve always had disagreements with my parents over my major,” Zhou Huaixia sighed, as if just realizing. “Am I bothering you? Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Lu Jin stared at the darkened screen. “?”

Zhou Huaixia didn’t know when Lu Jin would try to harm the cat and planned to call randomly to observe and interfere.

At 12:12 a.m.

Fighting off overwhelming sleepiness, Zhou Huaixia called Lu Jin again.

Her roommate was still awake, sitting on the bed holding some A4 documents.

Zhou Huaixia said, “You’re still up? I can’t sleep. Well, never mind. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“It’s not—” Lu Jin began, but the call was cut off instantly. She looked confused at her phone. “Weird.”

The next day at 7:31 a.m., Zhou Huaixia opened her eyes and immediately called Lu Jin.

It took more than ten seconds before Lu Jin answered just before the call would auto-disconnect. She smiled and said, “What now?”

She hadn’t even gotten out of bed but was already so eager to talk—were they really that close? Zhou Huaixia never talked so much at school.

Zhou Huaixia scanned Lu Jin’s background: she was on the move with her phone in hand. The clean living room showed no signs of violence, but her hair was wet—she must have just washed it. Lu Jin didn’t usually wash her hair in the morning while living in the dorm.

So Zhou Huaixia asked directly, “Why are you washing your hair in the morning?”

Lu Jin grabbed a towel to dry her hair as she headed to the bathroom. “Sis, what’s up?”

Zhou Huaixia was really abnormal!

Like chewing gum, inexplicably sticking to her.

She’d never met anyone who liked video calls so much—six calls in less than two days, like a surprise inspection. They weren’t even lovers!

Lu Jin endured and softened her expression out of a bit of sympathy for the vulnerable. “If you have disagreements with your parents about your major, sit down and talk it out. You can transfer majors at school.”

Zhou Huaixia had achieved her purpose and was about to find an excuse to hang up. “Okay, I…”

Lu Jin opened the bathroom door, went in to get the hairdryer, and casually placed her phone on the rinse cup. It wasn’t placed well; the cup tipped over, and the phone rolled off the table onto the floor.

Zhou Huaixia’s gaze suddenly froze on the video.

She saw it clearly.

The familiar glass partition door, the shower, and the slightly yellowed white square tiles with the handrail—exactly the same as in the staff dorm bathroom.

“I’ll hang up now,” Lu Jin said, bending to pick up her phone. “I’m going to dry my hair; can’t chat on video. Voice call if you need me. Don’t call video.”

The screen showed the call ended. Zhou Huaixia slowly sat up in bed, her expression grave. So the first crime scene in the dream was actually in the staff dorm’s bathroom.

…

At 4:53 p.m.

Lu Jin returned from the hospital, carrying her bag. She had attended a seminar and felt it was very rewarding. Now she was ready to organize her new knowledge.

She stopped at the entrance of the staff dorm building and looked up. Seeing a familiar figure there, she froze.

Lu Jin maintained a calm exterior but pushed up her glasses and muttered, “Damn!”

She only asked Zhou Huaixia not to video call her, and yet she had come all the way from her hometown!