Chapter Fifty-One: Like a Dream

This is the campus lawn.

Fan Li looked around. People walked to and fro; some were studying materials under the trees, others strolled about, and some walked in pairs, boys and girls, a palpable surge of youthful hormones entwining and lingering in the air.

He lowered his head. In his hands was not the samurai sword that had slain countless zombies, but a simple folder for his classes.

It seemed as if Fan Li had just awoken from a long, drawn-out dream. In that dream, he’d witnessed the city reduced to ruins, everyone cowering in corners like hunted rats, trembling in fear.

That sensation was much like the moments after waking: everything in the dream felt so real, as if it had truly happened, but all one could recall were scattered fragments. Like sand slipping through clenched fingers, the harder you tried to hold on, the faster it vanished; and the more you tried to remember, the more the dream faded until it was utterly lost.

“Fan Li!”

At that moment, someone called his name from afar. He turned, and a lovely face appeared before him.

Long but neat hair fell over her shoulders, swaying gently in the breeze like a waterfall. Partially hidden by those tresses, her face looked all the more delicate and pale, and her upturned lashes gave her lively eyes a touch of gentleness.

Li Jiayue.

What youth has not known longing? In a lifetime, there are always those who hold a special meaning for you.

Her family was well-off; she had studied various instruments from a young age and was also a member of the student council. Such girls in college never lacked admirers, and Fan Li was merely one among them.

Li Jiayue appeared at the end of a shaded path, dressed in a denim skirt and a simple T-shirt, as fresh and lovely as ever. Her bright eyes and gently pointed cheeks were a joy to behold.

“You didn’t come to class yesterday. What’s the matter? You’re starting to skip class like your other roommates?” Li Jiayue spoke quietly.

For some reason, Fan Li sensed a note of caution in her voice.

“Yesterday?”

Fan Li felt a little dazed. What had he done yesterday? In the dream, he’d cleaved off a zombie’s head, sending it rolling to the ground.

“Are you... angry with me?” Li Jiayue’s voice trembled as Fan Li remained silent.

“How could I be?” Fan Li rubbed his forehead. Seeing her on the verge of tears, he pushed aside his confusion about the dream and stopped dwelling on it.

“Please don’t mind what I said the day before yesterday, all right? Don’t mind it. I truly regret it...”

It takes great courage for a girl to admit she’s made a mistake. In this land where the gender balance had long since tipped, girls had learned to play the part of queens.

“No.”

“Whatever.”

“What do you think?”

What boy could resist this fatal trio of responses?

Their exchange drew the attention of many nearby. Some boys, seeing Li Jiayue in tears, shot cold looks at Fan Li, naturally assuming he was a heartless cad.

“I’m sorry...” Li Jiayue’s pert nose suddenly turned red, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I rejected you—maybe it was pride, maybe your drunken confession felt unreal to me. But I truly regret turning you down to your face. I can’t lie to myself—I like you. I just hoped you’d give me a proper confession, that you’d take me seriously. That’s why I said those harsh words...”

Fan Li looked at her, momentarily caught off guard. In his memory, it was the first time he’d seen her like this, tears trembling like raindrops on a pear blossom. Suddenly, an urge to embrace and comfort her welled up within him.

Almost against his will, he took a step forward.

“Please don’t dwell on my rejection, please, I didn’t mean it...” she pleaded. “Do you know how anxious I was when you missed school yesterday?”

For a girl to come this far was already remarkable—it took all her courage, and even her shoulders had begun to tremble.

Fan Li wanted to hold her, to tell her he’d liked her since the moment he set foot on campus.

A girl who smiled easily, who was cheerful—her name suited her perfectly: Jiayue, beautiful and joyful!

There was a unique brilliance about her that drew people in. Who wouldn’t want the girl they admired to become their other half? At this moment, her confession made her seem less like a distant swan and more real, someone he could reach out and embrace, someone tangible.

Fan Li did not stop, but stepped closer and closer, wanting to hold her, to whisper in her ear that he was not angry, only happy—happy for her courage, happy that his dream had come true.

Nearer now.

Only half a meter separated them. Fan Li could even catch a whiff of her sweet fragrance.

One more step, and he could embrace her.

Yet Fan Li hesitated, as if something occurred to him, and he fell silent for a few seconds.

Li Jiayue was amused by his dazed expression. Her eyes curved in a smile, and she laughed, gripping her wrist with her other hand. “Shouldn’t boys be more forward at times like this?”

The implication was clear.

Fan Li took a step forward, clutching the folder tightly in his hand. Li Jiayue seemed ready for his embrace, a shy blush on her face.

“It’s too similar.”

He did not move to embrace her; that step only narrowed the gap between them.

“Too similar to what?” Li Jiayue asked, confused.

“I mean, you’re too much like her—just like the one in my memory. Even the pattern on your clothes is exactly the same. But do you know where you made a mistake?”

Li Jiayue frowned, puzzled. “Fan Li, what are you talking about? Why can’t I understand anything? Are you still angry at me?”

Fan Li smiled, though it looked forced. He gazed at the face that haunted his dreams, took another step forward, and said, “There’s only one mistake—you wove me a beautiful dream, but in reality... you have a boyfriend.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Fan Li gripped the folder in his hand, and without hesitation or emotion, slashed it across her neck.

The slender folder, like a sharp blade, severed the girl’s throat. Blood spurted in torrents as she clutched her neck, eyes wide. She could never have imagined that the boy she adored would turn on her so ruthlessly.

She wanted to reproach him, but with her throat bleeding and her windpipe torn, all she could manage were guttural sounds.

Everything around them began to collapse: blue sky, white clouds, treetops, and the girl he had long admired...

Fan Li watched as her face twisted and contorted, a hint of sorrow tugging at his lips. He whispered softly, “In the end, it was only a dream...”