Chapter 31 - 14: Objective Dreamscape Incubation Project

Chapter 31: Chapter 14: Objective Dreamscape Incubation Project

The long-distance bus swayed and lurched on the flooded streets.

Staring at the water’s surface, Yu Xian felt less like he was riding a bus and more like he was on a boat.

There were only a few people on the bus, all of them looking exhausted, drifting off to sleep with every jolt of the vehicle.

He pressed his forehead against the window, clutching the backpack in his lap. Inside it was the truth of the first twenty years of his life.

It was already past nine in the evening when he got back to his cousin’s place.

A note was left on the coffee table. Yu Xian deciphered his cousin’s messy scrawl:

"Something urgent came up at the station. Probably won’t be back before tomorrow afternoon. I bought some frozen dumplings and put them in the fridge."

He put the note down and sighed. His cousin must be swamped lately.

The bizarre "smiling suicide cases" were still open, and now this strange incident with Professor Gao had happened.

His cousin was a backbone of the criminal investigation team, so one could only imagine the pressure he was under.

Working round-the-clock like that... even a man of steel would probably break under the strain.

The rain was coming down too hard; the food delivery apps showed that service in his area was suspended.

Yu Xian went to the kitchen to boil some water for a cup of instant noodles. ’I’ll save the dumplings for tomorrow,’ he thought.

As the kettle gurgled, his mind inevitably drifted back to the matter of Professor Gao.

He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling he’d had while discussing it with Shi Zuozhou that morning.

Why?

Why would Professor Gao want to destroy with his own hands the dream, the career, that he had pursued his entire life?

Why would he even consider suicide?

Why would he feel he was guilty, that he had wronged all of humankind?

These three "whys" were lodged in his mind like three nails.

And what’s more...

Yu Xian frowned, staring blankly at the steam rising from the kettle.

It wasn’t just those three questions.

There seemed to be something else about Professor Gao’s suicide attempt that was extremely out of place.

That morning, while he and Shi Zuozhou were talking on the balcony, a thought had just started to form when the class bell had cut it short.

Now, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember what it was.

Yu Xian rubbed his temples, feeling a dull ache.

His memory had really been suffering lately, probably due to the constant insomnia and anxiety.

His mind felt like a rusty gear, catching and grinding with every turn.

’Forget it,’ he thought. ’If I can’t remember it, I’ll just stop trying. It probably wasn’t that important anyway.’

He peeled back the lid of the noodle cup and poured in the hot water.

He had originally planned to start going through his parents’ research paper tonight, but looking at the time, it was probably too late.

He’d been through too much today. First, there was Professor Gao’s suicide note, then half a day of classes. At lunch, he’d followed Shi Zuozhou to that ridiculous maid cafe, and in the afternoon, he’d discovered the secret in the cabinet at his old home.

His mind was at its breaking point.

Thankfully, tomorrow was Saturday. No classes. He’d have plenty of time to go over that research paper.

He wolfed down a few bites, did a quick clean-up, washed his face, then turned off the lights and collapsed into bed.

It had been exactly one week since Xia Li disappeared.

Staring at the ceiling in the darkness, he marked the time.

He felt wide awake. His insomnia was getting worse, like a chronic illness that tormented him relentlessly.

With a practiced motion, he pulled out his phone, dimmed the screen, and opened the radio app he’d been using for the past few days.

For the past few days, this app had been his lifeline, the only thing that helped him sleep. Otherwise, he didn’t know how he would have made it through the long nights.

Other than drinking, that is. But the splitting hangovers were too disruptive to his ability to think clearly the next day.

His finger swiped across the screen, searching for a voice to help him fall asleep tonight.

After a few days of use, he had a good grasp of the app’s content, which was split into three main categories.

The first was "Audiobooks," which mostly consisted of various novels, traditional storytelling, and crosstalk routines.

Yu Xian knew many people could fall asleep to this sort of thing, but he couldn’t. It only made him more awake as his mind tried to follow the plots and logic.

The second was "Light Music," featuring all sorts of soothing piano pieces and classical music.

He’d tried that on the first day. It might work for mild insomnia, but for someone with so much on his mind, the music was too soft, too gentle. It couldn’t drown out the chaotic thoughts racing through his head.

The third was "Interactive Live Streams." This was what he’d mostly been listening to: things like traffic reports, late-night relationship advice shows, and midnight chat programs.

These programs weren’t as heavy on plot and logic as the audiobooks, nor were they as soft and vapid as the light music. The effect was much better.

But when he tapped on it today, Yu Xian froze.

’Why is everything about *Life of Subtraction*?’ Of the ten recommended live streams on the homepage, eight were sharing their reflections on the book, and the other two were just reading it aloud.

His opinion of Elder Su had improved considerably after Wednesday’s book talk; he now knew the man was actually very knowledgeable and insightful.

But it was like a delicious meal—no matter how good it tasted, you couldn’t eat it every day, for every meal.

He hadn’t read the book, but just from listening to all the broadcasts about it, he felt like he’d already finished it.

It had gotten to the point where hearing words like "declutter" or "Subtraction" made him want to change the station out of sheer reflex.

He sighed. Though exhausted, he was still wide awake. He could only scroll helplessly through the app’s interface, his finger swiping downward unconsciously.

It was only then that he noticed the radio app had a built-in user forum called the "Late-Night Forum."

He tapped on it to take a look. Everyone posting and replying at this hour was, like him, suffering from insomnia.

"3 AM, checking in." "Counted up to three thousand sheep and now I’m craving lamb skewers." "Ladies, any recommendations for eye cream to treat dark circles?"

Reading the posts made him feel a little better. At least he wasn’t the only one in the world who couldn’t sleep. Misery loves company, he thought, feeling a little base for the sentiment.