Isn’t it strange when you think about it…?
Everyone in Qi Xia’s dream has no face, yet she does.
The people in the dream don’t move at all, yet she does.
She can see, hear, and feel.
So she absolutely knows what the “bean sprouts” and “eggplants” she prepared are.
Compared to her, Qi Xia seems more like a supporting character in this dream.
His expression is dull, his demeanor wooden—he can’t even discern his surroundings.
He agrees to everything the girl in white says and obeys every instruction she gives.
What’s the difference between him and those faceless people standing on the street?
“This is bad…”
Xiao Cheng quickly stood up and went to the window, carefully examining the crack.
He took a deep breath, knowing there was only one last resort now.
He slowly moved his hand and covered the crack.
He had to rely on his own “belief.”
Though this was even more absurd than making Qi Xia see him, theoretically, he had succeeded before.
That was using “belief” to alter the environment in someone else’s dream.
Xiao Cheng lied.
In that middle-aged man’s dream, he plucked a blade of grass but immediately regretted it. So he put the broken grass back, insisting it was unintentional.
A few seconds later, when he let go, the blade of grass was perfectly intact.
Yet even so, when the man woke up, he was still dazed, as if his mind had collapsed.
Xiao Cheng often indulged in grand fantasies about his “echoes.” If one day he could master “dreamwalking,” not only would every dreamer see him, but he could also freely create things within dreams—wouldn’t that be wonderful?
But Qi Xia’s dream shattered many of Xiao Cheng’s illusions. In this dream, what he could do was extremely limited.
If this crack in the glass was truly a fissure in Qi Xia’s psychological defenses, what would happen if he mended it?
Xiao Cheng covered the crack with his palm, closed his eyes, and silently repeated, “This is just a whole piece of glass.”
But before he could say it three times, a sudden chill gripped his wrist.
He snapped his eyes open to find a pale hand grasping him.
The touch was icy, yet its grip was like a vice.
“Don’t.”
A soft voice whispered into Xiao Cheng’s ear like a ghost.
He turned his head in disbelief, staring at the girl in white before him.
She held a plate of chopped, burned heart, smiling brightly at him.
“Wh-what?”
Just two words, and Xiao Cheng’s voice cracked, turning hoarse.
“Don’t do anything unnecessary,” the girl in white said with a smile. “My name is Yu Nian’an. What’s yours?”
“I… I… Cheng…”
“Xiao Cheng?” Yu Nian’an gently moved his hand from the glass, her smile soft.
Though her movements were light, Xiao Cheng felt as if a truck were dragging his arm.
“Come here.”
Despite her quiet voice, Xiao Cheng felt like he was facing a vengeful spirit, unable to break free at all.
What kind of eerie situation was this?
The dreamer couldn’t notice him no matter what, yet this girl seemed to have spotted him long ago.
Why was she stronger than the dreamer himself?
Yu Nian’an dragged Xiao Cheng as if he were a piece of paper, pulling him away from the window. She placed the plate in front of Qi Xia and whispered, “Xia, the stir-fried eggplant is ready. Eat up.”
Xiao Cheng trembled uncontrollably, already foreseeing his own death.
“An, aren’t you eating?” Qi Xia asked.
“I have something to take care of,” Yu Nian’an replied, gently patting him. “Be good and eat first.”
Qi Xia nodded, picking up his chopsticks and digging in. He never looked back, seemingly indifferent to everything happening around him.
“Yu… Sis Yu…” Xiao Cheng croaked. “I-I mean no harm… I just saw Brother Qi wasn’t doing well… so…”
“But you’re not honest,” Yu Nian’an said. “What were you trying to do?”
Xiao Cheng knew this might be his last chance. Trying to kill these people in a dream was pure delusion—they could swat him away effortlessly, let alone throw a punch.
“Sis Yu… listen to me. Brother Qi is dreaming right now. His dream is damaged, and dreams reflect a person’s mental state—his psyche is also broken.” Xiao Cheng tried to explain as concisely as possible. “I came to help mend the crack in his mind… I really mean no harm…”
“Oh, mend it.” Yu Nian’an nodded, then continued pulling Xiao Cheng toward the kitchen.
As she turned, Xiao Cheng felt his arm twist violently, pain making him yelp—but struggling was hopeless.
“Sis Yu! I’m telling the truth!”
Xiao Cheng supported his right arm with his left, desperately trying to keep it from snapping, but his voice was already hoarse from sheer terror.
In the kitchen, Yu Nian’an released him, and he collapsed to the floor.
But she didn’t do anything else—just turned on the faucet and began scrubbing the pot.
“Xia’s eating outside. Don’t disturb him,” Yu Nian’an said softly as she scrubbed the pot with sticky black blood. “After mending the crack… what then?”
“To… to be honest…” Xiao Cheng climbed up, looking serious. “I think once that crack is fixed, Brother Qi will regain some sanity, and I can leave!”
Yu Nian’an paused her scrubbing and turned to him. “Xiao Cheng, that crack can’t be mended.”
“What…?” Xiao Cheng froze. “What do you mean ‘can’t be mended’?”
“It’s beyond your understanding. Hard to explain.” She picked up a steel wool pad and scrubbed hard at the grease. “If you try again, I’ll kill you here.”
Xiao Cheng blinked, realizing things were indeed hard to grasp.
“Sis Yu… did I not explain clearly enough?” He seemed slightly calmer now. “Are you Brother Qi’s lover? He’s sick—very sick! If that crack isn’t fixed, he might lose his mind completely!”
“I know. That’s why it can’t be mended,” Yu Nian’an said softly.
“You…” A horrifying answer dawned on Xiao Cheng. “You’re doing this on purpose?”
Yu Nian’an smiled at him, not denying it.
Only then did Xiao Cheng realize how absurd this all was…
“Sis Yu… you’re the real master of this dream?!”
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