Chapter 26: The Dream

Li Zhuiyuan could even reach out and twine his fingers through that hair, and in the same motion, complete another round of clapping.

He realized those claps weren’t intentional on the other’s part—his hand had just happened to meet the other’s. He could feel his palm landing on the back of a hand, the sound duller than before.

Suddenly, something rammed into his lowered arm, sharp pain shooting through him. Instinctively, he yanked it back.

That reflexive pull seemed to dislodge something that had been stuck, halting everything. It began moving again.

And his fingertips brushed against something hard and curved, then a slick depression, then knobbly bones rising upward, joint by joint, all the way to something round, high, and pliant.

Then, his fingers lost contact.

Quickly, he plunged his whole arm under the bed—and at last, his hand closed around five stubby, closely packed toes.

"Huff..."

Li Zhuiyuan pulled his arm back at once, face pale with shock.

It was a full body. He’d reached from the back of her skull all the way to her toes.

Someone was under the bed!

Not just one. Not two. A whole crowd!

Just then, Li Zhuiyuan realized the thin blanket that had been next to him had disappeared.

He looked toward the diagonal corner of the bed. There, a child had wrapped the blanket tightly around themselves, curled up, shaking, eyes full of terror.

That child looked... exactly like him.

“I’m so scared. I’m so scared. I really am so scared... Mommy, come get me... please...”

Li Zhuiyuan stared at the trembling “himself” and asked:

“Why are you still here?”

…

“Comrade, we’ve already tested your son. There’s no indication of any psychological issues. He’s healthy, cheerful, and outgoing.”

The woman in the white coat smiled as she spoke, unable to resist reaching out and gently patting the little boy’s cheek.

The boy smiled too.

Such an adorable child.

But when the doctor looked up at the mother standing beside him, she frowned. The woman’s face showed no relief—only cold indifference.

Psychology wasn’t widespread yet in the country, nor was mental healthcare. Still, in the capital, you could find a few clinics.

“Mom, I’m not sick,” said eight-year-old Li Zhuiyuan, taking his mother’s hand. “The doctor said I’m very healthy.”

Li Lan glanced down at her son, then looked back at the doctor and said,

“You’ve been fooled by him.”

The doctor spread her hands, trying to stay composed. “Comrade, since you brought your son here, I assume you have some awareness of psychology. You should trust our diagnosis. Trust our expertise.”

Li Lan: “I overestimated your expertise.”

“As his mother, how can you say that?” the doctor finally lost her temper. “I’ve never seen a mother who reacts with disappointment upon hearing her son is healthy. I honestly don’t understand what’s going on in your head!”

Li Lan: “Weren’t you just praising your own professionalism?”

The doctor: “…”

Li Lan took Li Zhuiyuan’s hand and left the clinic. He walked behind her, head lowered, like a child who’d done something wrong.

They didn’t go home. Instead, they headed to a foreign-operated hospital with a psychological division.

There, Li Zhuiyuan was brought in for further testing.

Forty minutes later, the door opened, and he came out.

The doctor looked serious. “Ma’am, we suspect your son is showing signs of severe schizophrenia and autism. From our consultation, it seems to stem from emotional neglect within the family.

He craves his mother’s love and companionship.

So for the treatment to work, your full cooperation as his mother is crucial. Only then can your son return to health.”

After listening, Li Lan looked down at her son and asked:

“Was it fun?”

“Mom, I…”

The doctor couldn’t take it anymore. He raised a hand to block Li Lan. “Ma’am, you can’t treat your child this way. His condition is already serious. You need to take this seriously, or else…”

Li Lan didn’t listen. She turned and left.

“Ma’am! Ma’am!” No matter how loudly the doctor called, she didn’t look back.

Li Zhuiyuan jogged to catch up.

Li Lan stopped in front of a restroom. Li Zhuiyuan stopped too. A large mirror reflected the two of them.

He saw his mother looking at herself in the mirror, a look of disgust in her eyes.

And when her gaze shifted down to him, the disgust remained.

“Mom…”

Li Zhuiyuan gently tugged her sleeve. He wanted to ask her what he needed to do to make her like him again, the way she used to—before she'd become so cold in recent years.

He believed that once he knew, he could fix it. He was a fast learner.

“Alan! Alan! Alan!”

Outside, his father’s voice rang out. He came running, sweat streaming, not even pausing to catch his breath. “Alan! How is Little Yuan? Is he okay?”

“Dad.”

“Ah, son!”

Li Zhuiyuan was swept into a hug.

Li Lan watched the two of them, lips twitching. She seemed to be holding something back, but couldn’t quite hide the sneer at the corners of her mouth.

The man looked up and saw it.

That was the final straw. Years of repressed emotions erupted, and his voice shook with fury.

“Alan, what do you want? What will it take for you to be satisfied? Must you torture us like this?”

Then he collapsed, sobbing.

“Don’t cry, Dad.” Li Zhuiyuan stepped forward, wanting to wipe his father’s tears.

But then he met his mother’s gaze—and froze.

Li Lan shut her eyes. A moment later, she opened them and walked away, leaving father and son behind.

Li Zhuiyuan stared ahead. On the glossy tiles, his mother’s retreating figure stretched out in reflection.

…

“Why are you still here?”

On the bed, facing the child trembling under the blanket, Li Zhuiyuan asked a second time.

But the other didn’t answer.

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “Thank you—for helping me fool the doctor that time. But you don’t exist.”

He didn’t have schizophrenia.

As the words left his mouth, the blanket flopped onto the bed.

The trembling “self” that had been mumbling for Mommy was gone.

Splash… splash… splash…

A clear sound of flowing water echoed around him.

The thick darkness receded, replaced by a smoky gray like spilled ink.

At least now, he could see.

Li Zhuiyuan slowly stood up and looked around again.

He was on a bed—or maybe a boat.

All around him, inky-black waves churned. And in the water floated corpses, packed densely together like an endless rice field.

“Great-grandfather said, once I sit vigil, I’ll be normal again.

But why…

Why do I still dream?

And why…

Why this kind of dream…”

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