Volume One Chapter 2: Let Them Face Reality

Ran Yi no longer resisted, letting Tang Hui pull him out of the classroom.

Bursting out of the classroom and down the corridor, the two made straight for another, older building—the Second Teaching Block of Fanlou University, known among the students simply as the “Old Teaching Block.”

It was built in the 1980s. The library inside was outdated, poorly lit, and its collection had not been updated in years. Few people ever came here, and over time, it became their “secret base.”

Here, Tang Hui had come up with any number of wild ideas—skipping class to see the sea, sneaking into the office to steal final exam papers, or even using a teacher’s computer to change her grades...

Dragged by Tang Hui through a maze of corridors and into a secluded corner of the library, the suffocating pressure that had weighed on Ran Yi finally began to dissipate. He leaned back in his chair, greedily inhaling the mingled scent of old ink and damp wood, slowly regaining his composure.

“We nearly died just now.”

“Yes, if it hadn’t been for this young lady coming to your rescue, you might have been devoured by that crowd,” Tang Hui said, hooking his chair toward her with her foot.

In the shifting light and shadow, Tang Hui seemed to shed her mask, peeling away the shell of the obedient girl.

“Explain yourself.”

“Is there any need? The banner at the door already—”

“I want to hear it from your own lips.” She enunciated every word.

Ran Yi recounted everything, detail by detail. When he finished, Tang Hui asked,

“So Jin Jingyang disappeared a week ago?”

Ran Yi nodded. “Jin Jingyang’s parents and Principal Shen both think I’m hiding something, but I’ve told them everything. In the days before the incident, he acted just as he always did. The things he said before class, I have no idea what they meant.”

“What did he say?”

Ran Yi hesitated, suddenly a little dazed.

“He said something as strange and inexplicable as you just did. Originally, he just asked me to save him a seat by leaving my books and phone, but then, out of nowhere, he said this world isn’t real and asked if I believed in the afterlife. Instinctively, I said no, but he replied—

‘The afterlife must exist. If anyone asks about my whereabouts, tell them I have been reborn in the next life.’

Naturally, neither the school nor Jin Jingyang’s parents would accept such a vague answer. They were convinced Ran Yi was hiding something.

Such abrupt words were completely illogical, and it was no wonder their classmates suspected he was keeping the truth to himself. But that was simply the reality.

“Tang Hui, you don’t suspect me, do you? You’re one of my only friends in over three years...”

Tang Hui snorted, grabbing his ear.

“So you still consider me a friend? Such a big deal, and I’m the last one in the class to find out!”

Ran Yi said, “I was afraid of causing you trouble. After all, your status...”

Ran Yi came from an ordinary background. In three years of high school, he had worked with all his might just to get into the School of Social Sciences at Fanlou University. He was from a small town; a metropolis like Fanlou was overwhelming and alien to him. With his reserved nature, he had gradually drifted apart from his classmates. Even with Jin Jingyang, his roommate, they were little more than familiar strangers, never interfering in each other’s lives. Only Tang Hui—whose wild imagination and sharp contrast between her appearance and her true self—clung to him with endless chatter.

Tang Hui’s father, Xu Yin, was the CEO of Molin Group, a real estate giant in Fanlou. Paired with her perfect reputation among her peers, Ran Yi didn’t want to be too closely associated with her in public, afraid to ruin her image.

Powerless and without connections, he could only swallow his grievances under the pressure from the school, from Jin Jingyang’s parents, and from their classmates, hoping to avoid any further trouble.

“What are you afraid of? Don’t you want to find Jin Jingyang and uncover the truth?” Tang Hui tapped his forehead with her pen.

She pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote down the day’s topic: The Truth Behind Jin Jingyang’s Disappearance.

Tang Hui showed him a surveillance video that had gone viral online. It showed Jin Jingyang, dressed in his basketball uniform, leaving school at 18:55. After he walked out the gate and turned into a blind spot in the cameras, he could no longer be reached—his phone location vanished. From that moment on, he was gone without a trace.

“He usually wears that outfit?”

Ran Yi thought for a moment. “Evening classes end at 8:30, and there was a departmental basketball game afterward. Jin Jingyang was a starting player. Maybe he wore it for convenience, but normally he wouldn’t—he used to complain about the uniform all the time.”

“What did he complain about?”

“Poor quality, unpleasant odor, not even a pocket.”

“I see...” Tang Hui mused.

The disappearance had stirred up a public furor, and the internet teemed with speculation. Many conspiracy theorists believed Jin Jingyang was already dead—some blamed the school, others thought he’d made enemies outside, and plenty pointed fingers at Ran Yi.

“People online can say whatever they want. All this public pressure only makes it harder for the police to solve the case,” Ran Yi said angrily.

Tang Hui perched on the desk, her feet propped on the edge of his chair, taking out paper and pen to methodically lay out the clues.

Jin Jingyang, male, twenty-one, junior at Fanlou University. Stellar grades, top of his class, a frequent participant in competitions and research projects. By his third year, he’d already published several papers and won countless scholarships. He was mature, steady, got along well with everyone. His only romantic relationship had been with Han Qian, Ran Yi’s class monitor—the very one who had just openly accused Ran Yi.

They had grown up together, the archetypal model couple. No wonder she resented Ran Yi.

His parents were alive, the family environment was stable, and he had no bad habits—not even video games. He was the very picture of the ideal child.

From any angle, there was no sign of suicidal intent.

Tang Hui’s sharp gaze landed on Ran Yi’s face.

“That’s what the school and his parents think too, right?”

Ran Yi nodded—that was exactly his dilemma.

In truth, after hearing the conversations between the school and Jin Jingyang’s parents, he’d been overwhelmed by an indescribable sense of suffocation.

In his parents’ eyes, Jin Jingyang was brilliant, emotionally stable, and well-behaved. He had never given them a moment’s worry. His mother was a middle school teacher, his father a retired soldier—they prided themselves on having the most effective parenting methods. From childhood on, Jin Jingyang’s schedule was managed down to the second by their so-called scientific timetables. Even at university, they required him to call home three times daily to report his schedule.

“As they say, every move Jin Jingyang made was under their control. So no matter what, they refuse to believe the school's conclusion that their precious son might have had suicidal tendencies. They even suspect I’m being pressured by the school to hide the truth...”

Tang Hui nodded, thoughtful.

“The school wants to shirk responsibility. The family is estranged from their own child. The internet is a cacophony of theories. And you are caught in the middle, thrust into the eye of the storm.”

Ran Yi bowed his head helplessly. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to involve Tang Hui. Even though everyone suspected Jin Jingyang, under the strain of his parents’ strict upbringing and with no outlet for his emotions, might have developed a psychological disorder and acted rashly...

Protesters led by Jin Jingyang’s family still blocked the campus gates demanding answers, while the school dodged media inquiries, pushing Ran Yi forward as their scapegoat.

Until Jin Jingyang or his body was found, Ran Yi would have to bear the weight of public scrutiny.

“It’s absurd—the real culprits play their blame game, and you’re the one trapped in the cage of public opinion.”

A trace of derision curled Tang Hui’s lips.

“If they believe their son is flawless, then all we need to do is shatter that illusion. Only then will they be forced to accept reality.”