Shen Chi had been in a hurry on his way to find her, yet when they finally met, realizing his outstretched hand was deathly pale, he felt a surge of cowardice.
He didn’t dare approach her, even feeling unworthy of so much as a glance at her in his current state.
Unconsciously, Shen Chi took a step back—only for the girl to rush forward and embrace him the next second.
“I’m sorry, Shen Chi, I’m sorry… I didn’t know anything.”
She hadn’t known the love letter was meant for her.
She hadn’t known he’d been trapped in this dark space for so many years.
She hadn’t known, most of all, that such a wonderful boy had loved her even after death.
Shen Chi stood frozen. After a long moment, his stiff body finally moved, slowly wrapping his arms around her. At first, he only dared a tentative touch, but once certain she didn’t recoil, he tightened his hold, pulling her close—so close it almost hurt.
“Miao… Miao…”
His voice trembled. Though he was now a terrifying existence, he felt more fragile than anyone.
He wasn’t brave at all—just a cowardly fool.
In the past, he hadn’t dared confess his feelings to the one he loved.
Later, he’d only buried his pain deeper, losing himself in the beautiful dream he’d woven.
In that “dream,” he was still alive. He’d taken that brave step forward, living happily with Xia Miao. Over time, drowning in that fantasy, he’d forgotten the truth—that in reality, he was already dead.
At some point, he’d begun to notice changes in the “dream” version of Xia Miao.
She was even more wonderful than he’d imagined, making him realize just how deeply he loved her.
His “dream” had shaped him, but her presence had reshaped the dream itself.
That was why Xia Miao always sensed the world responding to her thoughts—even now, dragged into this dark space by the Old Dean, perhaps because some part of her had sought the truth.
So she’d come here, witnessing everything that had happened.
Xia Miao rose onto her toes, cradling his face, and pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss.
In this fabricated world, the emotions between them were real. The more she loved him, the more violently guilt crashed over her.
Shen Chi parted his lips, tangling with her in a breathless exchange, each greedy for more—needing to claim, to possess.
“Miao…” he gasped between kisses, voice ragged. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
In this moment, they could only repeat those words, both drowning in remorse, lost in the storm of their feelings.
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the air. The space crafted by their “dream” was collapsing, and Xia Miao—who didn’t belong here—would soon be expelled.
“Miao, I don’t belong to that world anymore.” He pressed his forehead to hers, dark eyes glistening as he gazed at her. “Trapping you here was my selfishness. You can forget me after you leave.”
His life had ended, but hers had to go on.
Xia Miao clutched his hand, panic flashing in her eyes. “Can’t you come with me?”
His voice was gentle as he delivered the cruel truth. “Miao… I’m already dead.”
“Then I’ll stay with you!” she cried frantically.
He laughed—a sound both joyful and sorrowful. “But this isn’t the world where you should stay.”
Shen Chi wanted nothing more than to keep her by his side forever. But after confronting his pain, he remembered the truth: he was gone. Knowing how despairing it was to be trapped in this darkness, he couldn’t let Xia Miao suffer the same fate.
“Every path was my own choice, Miao. You don’t need to feel guilty for me.”
He kissed the corner of her lips, then closed his eyes and pushed her backward.
“Shen Chi!”
Her body passed through a rift in space. The familiar-yet-strange sensation of falling overtook her, the world spinning as if the stormy night’s chaos had finally righted itself.
Xia Miao gasped awake like a drowning woman breaking the surface. The familiar surroundings of the pitch-black office greeted her—only the faint glow of her fallen phone screen piercing the dark. She lay on the cold floor, dazed.
It felt like she’d dreamed for an eternity, though the details were already slipping away. Slowly, she sat up, picked up her phone, and scanned the room. Her gaze landed on the desk.
She picked up the letter again, eyes tracing the only legible words: “I love you.” Then she retrieved the SD card from the burnt-out computer.
Finally, she lifted the student ID.
The boy in the photo was blurred—yet she saw him with perfect clarity.
“Shen Chi… Shen Chi… Shen Chi…”
Xia Miao sprang to her feet and bolted from the office.
The rain had stopped. The wind and thunder were gone, leaving behind a cleansed night sky, breathtaking under the newly emerged moon.
With the Old Dean and others dead under mysterious circumstances, no one could say whether the rumors of the mist-shrouded world were true.
The library had been renovated. The old teaching building was slated for demolition—soon, all traces of the past would vanish.
Xia Miao did the boldest thing she’d ever done. Setting her flashlight on the dusty floor, she gripped a hammer and swung at the wall.
Even decayed, breaking through wasn’t easy. But she didn’t stop, hammering tirelessly until, layer by layer, the bricks crumbled—revealing a hollow space within.
As the dust settled, the flashlight’s beam illuminated its contents: a skeleton, its bones scarred and weathered, finally bathed in light once more.
Once, a boy had bled dry, his body hidden within these walls. Flesh had rotted away, leaving only bones—trapped in this cold, cramped darkness for ten long years.
Xia Miao had imagined this scene, but facing it now, she was paralyzed.
Then—a presence.
She turned.
There he stood, unchanged from a decade ago, silent amid the ruins, staring at her in disbelief.
The wall had held his remains, binding his soul to that tiny prison.
Yet now, the impossible had happened.
The girl he loved had rushed back, shattered the barrier, and brought him into the world again.
“Shen Chi!”
Xia Miao dropped the hammer and ran—colliding into his arms.
Behind her lay his twisted, ghastly remains, while before her, he embraced his own soul.
Shen Chi slowly pressed her into his arms, burying his face against the curve of her neck. He drew a deep, shuddering breath before letting out a quiet laugh—its trembling tail end resembling a sob.
"I'm here."
"Xia Miao."
"I've always been here."
