It was July in the lunar calendar in Kyoto. The weather was hot and humid, making the entire city feel like a giant steamer.
At night, the dark clouds that had been gathering all afternoon finally began to churn. Accompanied by rolling thunder, they split open with blinding flashes of lightning, and a torrential downpour began.
Chu Xichen was half-asleep, his mind drowsy and heavy. The sensation of the lightning and thunder outside slowly seeped into his dream.
The stone cell was dark and damp. On the wall in one corner, a dim torch flickered, its dancing flame driving away the darkness in that immediate area. Chu Xichen felt like a floating specter, lingering in the darkest corner of the stone cell, gazing at the scene before him.
Not far from the torch, a man was bound to a stone bed, his limbs splayed out wide in the shape of a giant “X”.
The man had long hair. In the dim light, his face was obscured, and only his entire body could be seen trembling.
Standing beside him was another man. Chu Xichen could only see his tall, imposing back. The man wore a long robe that trailed to the ground, secured at the waist with a jade belt, and a golden crown upon his head.
A sudden clap of thunder rolled across the sky, and a harsh glare shot through the small window on the wall, illuminating the cold sword in the man’s hand.
Chu Xichen heard a familiar, low, and husky voice: “Ye Jincheng, why can you be so ruthless to me?”
Chu Xichen’s ears buzzed. That voice… that actually sounded just like his own! It was the voice coming from the man on the stone bed. How could he have the exact same voice as him?
Amidst Chu Xichen’s shock, he heard the man speak again: “Our ten years together, all we’ve been through… could all of that be fake?”
His voice was trembling, and anyone could hear the terror and sorrow hidden within it.
The man standing slowly raised the long sword in his hand, his tone cold and indifferent: “You can only blame yourself for being a fool, failing to see the truth until now. Everything is of your own doing, and you cannot blame me!”
He had no idea what was going on between the two men before him, but hearing those words inexplicably filled his heart with sorrow and fierce indignation.
Suddenly, the man grabbed the other’s foot, and the sharp sword slashed.
“Ah…”
“Clang!”
A flash of lightning split the air, and the violent roar of thunder was accompanied by the man’s shrill, agonizing scream.
The swinging long sword severed the man’s Achilles tendon, sending a spray of blood flying into the air as if it had splashed directly into Chu Xichen’s pupils.
No!
Chu Xichen abruptly felt a heart-wrenching, tearing pain shooting from his ankles.
In an instant, his specter-like form merged with the man on the stone bed, and the agony caused his physical body on the bed to tremble and writhe.
“No, why must you treat me this way?” Chu Xichen felt as though his heart was riddled with a hundred holes, the immense grief and resentment flowing from the hollow wounds into every bone and limb of his body.
He did not understand why all of this was happening or what had transpired, but the intense emotions in his heart felt so real, as if he had been hurt to the absolute extreme by the person closest to him, destroyed beyond repair.
Amidst waves of dizzying pain, Chu Xichen forced his eyes open. His unfocused gaze pierced through the sweat-soaked, messy long hair on his face and landed on the face of the man standing beside him.
It was a face of extreme, dazzling handsomeness, yet utterly and mercilessly cold.
Chu Xichen woke up in a state of terror, abruptly sitting up and gasping for breath. Cold sweat had already soaked his thin pajamas, turning his porcelain-white skin an ashen pale, devoid of any vitality as if he were on the verge of death.
The faint wall lamp was still glowing, dimly illuminating the modern interior of the room, simple, cozy, familiar, and real.
It was a dream, just a dream, and not real.
Chu Xichen tried to calm his still-trembling heart.
Along with the lingering panic, a wave of grief and indignation welled up inside him. All the sensations from the dream, absurd yet entirely real, spilled out from the recent nightmare and took root deep within his reality.
Chu Xichen clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles popping.
This was not the first time he had experienced this dream. It always repeated just as he was starting to forget it, as if determined to ensure he would never forget or find release. Crucially, every time he was inside the dream, he had no idea he was dreaming, and it terrified him to the core each time.
Chu Xichen gnashed his teeth in hatred. If he could, he would drag that scoundrel right out of his dream and smash his bones to dust with his bare fists, making sure he could never wreak havoc in his dreams ever again.
The night passed, and the city, washed clean by the heavy rain, felt exceptionally fresh and pristine.
Early in the morning, a modest black BMW quietly pulled into a corner of the municipal hospital’s parking garage. The chauffeur parked the car, and in the backseat, a richly dressed middle-aged woman picked up her handbag and turned her head to look at the young man in his early twenties sitting next to her.
The young man was still fast asleep, his head tilted slightly backward against the seat. His sharply defined facial features were deep and striking, exuding an uninhibited, arrogant handsome air. With his long, athletic legs, his presence made the car interior feel cramped. He wore a loose casual T-shirt that outlined his solid, powerful chest, and his long, bare arms crossed over his chest displayed smooth, well-defined muscle contours. Even in sleep, he still radiated a wild, aggressive energy.
Seeing that he was finally sleeping peacefully, the woman hesitated to wake him. After a moment’s hesitation, she gently nudged him: “Darling, darling, wake up.”
The man let out a low murmur and opened his eyes. His gaze, half-hidden beneath dense eyelashes, was clear and sharp, completely lacking the usual grogginess of someone just waking up.
“We are here already?” the man asked, turning his head.
“Yes, hurry up. It was so hard to secure an appointment with Dr. Chu Xichen, so do not be late.”
The man arched an eyebrow, a trace of helplessness flashing across his face.
After all these years, he had long stopped holding out much hope. Running around seeking medical treatment was truly the most grueling thing in the world, and he genuinely wanted to give up. His condition was not going to kill him anytime soon anyway, and he had not wanted to come in the first place, but he could not withstand his mother’s endless nagging.
Just as he reached for the door handle to get out, his mother pulled him back, took a face mask out of her bag, and handed it to him: “What are you doing? Put this on right now.”
“I do not like it, it is suffocating.” The man frowned and pushed her hand away.
“Oh, come on,” the woman insisted, pressing the mask into his hand. “Be a good boy and listen. You stand out too much, and it will not be good if people recognize you.”
The man glanced at the black object in his hand and twitched the corner of his mouth: “How long has it even been since I came back to the country? Who outside would recognize who I am?”
“Be good, better safe than sorry,” the woman said as she pulled out another mask and put it on herself first.
The man pouted, unwrapped the mask unenthusiastically, and before he could step out of the car, his mother grabbed a black baseball cap and shoved it onto his head.
The young man was Ning Anyu, the only son of the president of the Ning Group. The Ning Group was a leading enterprise in domestic real estate and also had ventures in the food, beverage, and entertainment industries, enjoying a sterling reputation in the sector. Ning Anyu could be considered the epitome of a second-generation wealthy heir, the pinnacle of tall, rich, and handsome. Unfortunately, no one was perfect, and this guy had a problem, a mental one at that.
When Ning Anyu was born, he was an exceptionally pretty baby. Since his father, Ning Changxiang, and his mother, Wang Min, had their eldest daughter several years prior before having him as a second child, they naturally treasured him dearly. However, as they raised him, they gradually noticed that this little darling had a few days every month where something just was not right.
The child would constantly cry, fuss, and scratch people, muttering incomprehensible tantrums. Sometimes he would get overly emotional, crying until he fainted.
When they took him to the doctor, no physical ailments were found, and the doctors even remarked that the child’s physical health was exceptionally robust. As for the emotional outbursts, why was he getting so emotional at such a young age? Well, they could only determine if it was a mental illness when he got older.
Mental illness? Go to hell with your mental illness! The doctor had almost been scratched until his face was covered in bloody marks by Wang Min.
The child was just in a bad mood, and what mental illness? That was absolute nonsense!
It was not until Ning Anyu was five or six years old that the condition became more pronounced. He would suddenly become restless, always feeling as though he had forgotten something very important. His heart would race as if ants were crawling on it, leaving him unable to sit still, followed by a state of frenzy where he would not even recognize his family. He would run out onto the streets as if searching for someone, grabbing strangers to stare at them.
His gaze was fanatical and intense, hardly looking like that of a child. When he was only five years old, he had frightened an older girl until she burst into tears. Yet, after calming down on his own, he would not remember any of it, having no clue why he had gone into a frenzy or what he was trying to find.
Eventually, his parents accepted that the child was indeed abnormal and began taking him for psychiatric evaluations and treatments. Because he was young back then, confidentiality was well-maintained, and aside from family, outsiders had no idea he had this condition. However, after consulting numerous renowned physicians domestically, none of them yielded any results.
With domestic treatments failing, his parents later sent him to country M for treatment. Yet, that proved utterly useless as well, yielding almost no harvest other than managing to scrape through a college diploma at some shady diploma mill.
Of course, if one insisted on mentioning other achievements, there were indeed some. He successfully earned the prestigious title of a street brawler by getting into small fights every three days and big fights every five days, making quite a notorious name for himself locally.
He had just returned to the country this year. Lacking many opportunities to fight since his return, he had taken to spending all his time at boxing gyms.
Recently, the private physician hired by his father had once again declared his treatment a failure. Upon hearing from someone that a doctor named Chu Xichen at the municipal hospital was exceptionally skilled, his mother dragged him here on a whim, hoping to give it one last try.
Since there were more acquaintances in this city, Wang Min did not want others to know her son was visiting the psychiatric department. Although she believed her son was superior to everyone else and did not feel ashamed of a mental illness, she simply did not want others to gossip about him or look down on him because of it.
Ning Anyu and his mother stepped into the elevator. The young nurse inside could not help glancing at him, her heart bubbling with pink daydreams as she looked. Just look at that tall stature, those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs, as even a top global male model could not beat that, right? And those facial features and contours, tsk tsk, once he took off that mask, he must be an absolute super hunk!
Wait, no. Did he press the seventh floor? But that was the psychiatric department!
The nurse instantly broke out in a sweat of disbelief. Could it be that he was actually a mental patient?
Ning Anyu and his mother stepped out of the elevator. This floor was exceptionally quiet. The doors to several consultation rooms were tightly shut, and a few people sat sparsely on the chairs in the central waiting area, all psychiatric patients accompanied by family members. Some had bizarre expressions and gazes, looking unmistakably abnormal.
Wang Min glanced over and could not help feeling a chill run down her spine. Thankfully, her son was not like them.