Seeing the girl in white staring at him, Xiao Cheng instantly felt his scalp tingle.
He instinctively took a step back, only to feel a sharp pain shoot through his arm.
Clenching his teeth, he turned his head and saw that a pot of pothos on the windowsill had cut his arm.
Since he couldn’t move or affect any objects in this world, his arm brushing against the pothos leaves was like sliding across razor-sharp blades.
His blood scattered like beads, pattering noisily onto the ground.
Yet, the blood couldn’t stain the floor—instead, it transformed into tiny red spheres that rolled in all directions.
He had no time to deal with this and quickly turned his gaze back to the girl in white, only to find that she had already looked away, intently studying the crack in the window with Qi Xia.
As if her sudden stare had just been an illusion.
Since she didn’t spare him another glance, even Xiao Cheng himself couldn’t be sure if he had truly been noticed.
Theoretically, the only one who could detect his presence was the owner of the dream. That girl, as a product of this dream, must have just glanced at him unintentionally.
At that moment, a muffled voice echoed from above, as if someone was speaking from the edge of the sky.
“This kid’s hurt!”
“How did he get a cut like that? Quick, bandage him up.”
The voices sounded unmistakably like Chen Junnan and Tian Tian.
Xiao Cheng’s unease deepened. This dream felt both unshakable yet unstable—so real that he could even hear voices from the outside.
If he were forcibly awakened, his consciousness might remain trapped here forever, leaving only an empty shell to wake up.
But what should he do now? If he wasn’t woken from the outside, how could he escape this false, terrifying dream?
“I think someone might’ve thrown a small stone,” the girl in white said. “Don’t worry about it, Xia. I’ll get someone to replace the glass tomorrow.”
“Oh… okay…” Qi Xia nodded slightly.
After speaking, the girl walked into the kitchen. The sound of the gas stove igniting soon followed, then the sizzle of oil as she tossed in a heap of something wet. The loud crackling of hot oil filled the air.
It was “bean sprouts.”
Qi Xia didn’t linger by the window either, moving instead to the dining table to wait.
Xiao Cheng, out of options, took a few steps forward until he stood opposite Qi Xia.
Gritting his teeth, he suddenly thrust his finger toward Qi Xia’s eyes while the man was staring blankly at the table.
The eyes were the most vulnerable part of the body. Though Xiao Cheng struggled to affect anything in this dream, attacking Qi Xia’s eyes might force him to notice his presence.
**Thud!**
The sound didn’t come from Qi Xia’s eyes—it came from Xiao Cheng’s finger.
The impact felt like poking reinforced glass. Qi Xia didn’t even blink, but Xiao Cheng’s finger throbbed with pain.
Clutching his finger, he grimaced hard.
“Damn it… his mental defenses are even tougher than I thought.”
This dream truly was immovable.
Xiao Cheng tried everything he could think of, but nothing made Qi Xia notice him. It was baffling.
Was Qi Xia different from others?
In past dreams, most people couldn’t perceive him, but if he managed to touch them—whether their eyes or just tugging their sleeve—they’d immediately become aware of him.
Yet Qi Xia’s dream defied that logic entirely. Everything here was abnormal.
“Xia, the bean sprouts are ready.”
The girl in white emerged from the kitchen carrying a steaming plate. Inside were dark, squirming lines, but she seemed to have genuinely put effort into cooking the dish.
The “bean sprouts” were garnished with chopped green scallions and even sprinkled with diced fresh chili peppers, the red and green accents making the plate look less monotonous.
“Eat first,” the girl said, placing the dish in front of Qi Xia. “The eggplant takes longer. It’ll be ready in a bit.”
Qi Xia nodded blankly, then took her hand. “An, don’t overwork yourself… one dish is enough…”
“No way!” The girl smiled. “Everything’s already prepped—just needs cooking. You eat first.”
She handed him a pair of chopsticks before turning back to the kitchen.
Qi Xia took them, his eyes still vacant. He aligned the chopsticks on the table, then picked up a clump of the blackened strands.
“Brother Qi!!” Xiao Cheng shouted. “You can’t eat that! Can’t you see what it is?!”
Panicked, Xiao Cheng stared at Qi Xia’s chopsticks. He’d never noticed before that earthworms had pointed ends. After being heated, their bodies curled stiffly, making it unclear whether the chopsticks held them or they were coiling around the utensils.
Qi Xia slowly brought the “bean sprouts” to his mouth. Xiao Cheng lunged to stop him, but Qi Xia’s arm was as immovable as the door earlier—completely unstoppable.
In the end, Qi Xia put the tangled mass of black strands, dotted with chili and scallions, into his mouth and chewed expressionlessly.
Xiao Cheng covered his eyes, as if he, too, was about to lose his mind in this bizarre dream.
What the hell was going on?
How could someone lose their cognitive system in their own dream?
The normal outcome should’ve been Qi Xia suddenly realizing the plate held earthworms, jolting awake in horror, shuddering in relief, and then saying, “It was just a dream.”
Yet the Qi Xia before him seemed determined to turn this nightmare into an ordinary dream.
Even as his subconscious conjured such horrors, he acted as if nothing was wrong.
“Wait a minute…”
Xiao Cheng froze, realizing something else.
If Qi Xia’s cognition was impaired—assuming that was truly the case—then his own perception remained intact. He could clearly see how twisted this world had become.
That meant… only Qi Xia himself had changed. He must’ve used some method to blind himself to the truth.
The more Xiao Cheng thought about it, the more sense it made. It would allow every “nightmare” to be treated as a “good dream”—a desperate coping mechanism.
But if that was the case…
Xiao Cheng’s briefly calmed heart suddenly lurched again, his hands and feet turning ice-cold once more.
That girl in white… the world she saw must be the same as his.
She could see everything!
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