Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 175 Chen Zhiwei? Shen Mengyao?
The metal floor beneath their feet made a sickening, creaking sound. Xu Yan grabbed Chen Zhiwei's wrist and pulled her away from where she stood.

Just as they dodged, a huge structural component crashed down, and debris grazed his forehead, leaving a bloody mark.

"careful!"

Chen Zhiwei exclaimed in surprise, and immediately erected a spiritual energy barrier. The pale blue light screen fluctuated violently amidst the swirling dust, reflecting her pale face.

Xu Yan gripped her wrist tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The words of my father before he vanished still echoed in my ears, while another, even more turbulent wave was sweeping in—the truth that had been sealed away for too long.

A sharp pain throbbed in my temples, as if an ice pick was churning inside.

Countless images broke free of their shackles, bringing not a warm nostalgia, but a chilling cold that seemed to forcibly rip his soul from the present world.

The smell of disinfectant was so strong that it made his nose sting.

A hand, cold and limp, gripped him...

who is it?

He shook his head, attributing the bizarre hallucination to the mental shock of the collapsing matrix.

"Senior brother?" Chen Zhiwei's voice came.

Just as she turned her head, Xu Yan noticed a tiny, light brown mole behind her ear.

This detail, like a red-hot steel needle, suddenly pierced the fault line in his memory, scalding him with a hissing white smoke and excruciating pain.

Another scene unfolds in the art studio, where sunlight streams through the window and falls on Shen Mengyao's neck. He notices the small mole for the first time and even says something with a smile... What did he say?
A splitting headache.

"No...it's impossible..." he roared in his heart.

Chen Zhiwei is his only lover in this world, a vibrant and powerful talisman master!
How could it be... how could it be Shen Mengyao, who is lying in a hospital bed, relying on machines to keep her life?

The two figures began to fight and overlap wildly.

Chen Zhiwei's resolute gaze as he held the talisman blended perfectly with Shen Mengyao's timid look as she gazed at him.

His stomach was churning, and he almost vomited.

This is not sadness, but rather the weightlessness of the soul after the entire foundation of cognition has been completely emptied.

The last gate was breached.

All the fragments of memory converged into a torrent—

On that bright afternoon, the green of the sycamore leaves was so vibrant it seemed unreal, as if they had been soaked in oil paint.

The air was stagnant.

Her pale blue skirt, in my memory, presents an almost eerie, frozen perfection.

And when the memory shifts to the next scene—

The screeching sound of brakes.

Blood meandered into eerie patterns on the asphalt road.

The relentless ticking of the electrocardiogram monitor seemed to mock the futility of time.

And then there was her, barely breathing, using her last strength to say, "Xu Yan... don't go... stay in my dreams..."

Amidst the billowing smoke and dust, he gazed at the face before him, a face etched with concern and bewilderment.

The world is silent.

All the roar faded away.

He understood. He understood everything.

This is not a reunion, it's a prison.

Both he and she were prisoners trapped in this incredibly real prison woven by her subconscious.

The strong, pungent smell of blood, a mixture of gasoline and rust, seemed to transcend time and space, pouring directly into his lungs.

The smell was so real, so incongruous with the smoky smell of the collapsing matrix before him, yet it ruthlessly crushed his last shred of hope for "reality".

He watched Chen Zhiwei anxiously maintaining the barrier, and saw her pale face due to the depletion of her spiritual energy.

An unprecedented emotion, a mixture of extreme heartache and boundless anger, surged in his chest like magma.

What pained him was the loneliness and fear she endured by exiling herself here.

What angered him was the very thing that had driven reality to such a desperate state, leading to all of this...
Was it him? Or something else?
This complex emotion is far deeper and more driving than simple "love" or "sadness".

"Shi, Senior Brother?"

Chen Zhiwei noticed his unusual gaze and blinked in confusion.

A crack spread across the dome above her head, and she instinctively took a step closer to him.

Why are you... looking at me like that?

Xu Yan opened his mouth.

That name—"Mengyao," carrying the rust and bloodlust of ten years of longing, had already pierced the back of his tongue.

But at this very moment!
A terrifying pressure, originating from the very essence of the soul and far exceeding the rules of the matrix, suddenly descended.

That was forbidden knowledge left by my father, and it was also the most fundamental rule of this dream world:
The truth should not be revealed.

Once the dreamer's self-awareness is awakened in the deepest dream, the entire world structure will collapse instantly.

All consciousness... will plunge into a deeper, more uncontrollable abyss of dreams.

He clenched his jaws tightly, biting down with all his might, as if he were swallowing a red-hot iron.

A sudden surge of metallic, salty pain rose in my throat.

“I…” His voice was so hoarse it was almost broken, as if it had been sanded by sandpaper, “I remembered some… things from the past.”

"What did you remember?" she pressed, her voice sharp with urgency, even causing the psychic energy maintaining the barrier to tremble. "Is it... is it about me?"

Her expression suddenly changed drastically, and she grabbed his arm and pulled him back quickly.

"careful!"

Another boulder crashed down where they had just been standing, the flying debris striking the spiritual energy barrier and creating ripples.

"We can't hold on much longer!" she cried anxiously, her voice trembling slightly. "We have to leave right now!"

Looking at the pure, unadulterated concern and anxiety in her eyes, Xu Yan felt as if his heart was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand.

She knew nothing—

I don't know I am Shen Mengyao;
Unaware that this world was a dream prison she had created;

Little did they know that in that forgotten reality, her body lay on a hospital bed, clinging to life with the help of medical equipment.

Chaos, heartache, anger, helplessness... a multitude of intense emotions surged within him, almost tearing him apart.

Ultimately, all these turbulent emotions settled down and coalesced into a cold and unbreakable resolve.

In another, even more violent tremor, the entire matrix seemed to be collapsing inward.

He took a sudden step forward, ignoring the falling debris around him, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

The hug came too suddenly and was too forceful.

Chen Zhiwei froze, and her psionic barrier rippled: "Senior...Brother?"

"Don't ask." He buried his face in her neck, his voice low and trembling, carrying a pain she couldn't understand. "Don't ask anything... trust me."

The texture of the matrix began to peel away, like someone tearing apart a yellowed negative.

The platinum light and the dark red energy clashed in their final, most frenzied clash, unleashing a storm of destruction.

In the apocalyptic scene, he held her tightly.

For a fleeting moment, all the surrounding noises—the mournful cries of metal, the roars of energy—seemed to be shut out.

At the center of the universe, only the warm pulse in her neck and the heart beating in his chest for both of them remained.

Then he made his vow, word by word:

"Even if it means tearing apart ten thousand layers of a dream..."

Even if the end is nothingness...

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a quenched blade, cold, hard, and firm, suppressing all the surrounding roar.

"I will also find that...way to bring you home."

"go home".

He had never uttered those two words with such weight, and with such longing.

The echo of the vow was instantly and ruthlessly torn apart by reality.

The last intact metal platform beneath their feet emitted a sickeningly twisting sound, and then—collapsed with a deafening roar.

A sudden feeling of weightlessness gripped them, and the two of them, like puppets with broken strings, plummeted downwards into the endless darkness and chaos below.

All around them were deafening crashes, and massive, broken structural components, like the skeletons of a dying beast, fell continuously from above, brushing past them and plunging into the bottomless darkness.

The chaotic energy currents pulled at them, and the psionic barrier that Chen Zhiwei had erected fluctuated violently under the continuous impact of the rubble and metal fragments, flickering and threatening to shatter completely at any moment.

"Brother...we..."

Chen Zhiwei's voice sounded so faint amidst the howling storm and roar outside the barrier that it was almost completely drowned out.

"Don't worry, I'll figure something out."

Xu Yan looked up and interrupted her.

The raging wind tousled his hair, but it couldn't dispel the cold, simmering flame in his eyes, like a ghostly fire still burning at the bottom of an abyss.

"Believe me."

These three simple words, amidst the apocalyptic collapse, carried an undeniable power, and also a touch of cruel tenderness that Chen Zhiwei had never heard before.

He released his embrace, but one hand still gripped her wrist like an iron clamp.

In the terrifying descent, he forcefully twisted his body, unleashing spiritual energy beneath his feet to counteract the turbulence, barely managing to steady himself, and resolutely faced the "mouth of the abyss" above that devoured all light and hope.

Can't wait any longer.

With each instant of delay, the "exit" of the collapsing matrix above their heads moved further away, while the swallowing sensation of the void below drew ever closer.

A crazy idea, like a lightning bolt cleaving through the darkness, suddenly illuminated his chaotic mind.

He suddenly recalled the terrifying scene of countless ghosts surging forth unstoppably when Zhou Wenbin forcibly opened the gates of hell.

And then there was the chilling, powerful torrent that gushed forth from the gate when he opened it during the battle.

That force was not merely for devouring living beings; it was itself a pure and powerful "momentum," a shockwave capable of overturning everything.

in case……

An amazing idea instantly took shape in his mind.

If you place this upward-opening gate of hell beneath your feet, direct the surging ghosts upwards, and use a psionic barrier as a "shield" to resist this impact... then wouldn't this power, originally intended for destruction, be transformed into what they desperately need right now—an upward "point of leverage"?
It's like stepping into the air on the shockwave of an explosion.

This idea is bold, crazy, and even desecrates the common sense regarding the use of the power of the Ghost Gate.

But in this desperate situation, this is the only visible glimmer of hope, embodying the cruel logic of physics.

The price would be heavy, but he had no other choice.

“Zhiwei,” his voice was eerily calm, completely out of place amidst the howling, crashing apocalyptic landscape, “psychic barrier, prepare to counterattack.”

"Hedge?" Chen Zhiwei was taken aback. She understood how to maintain the barrier against the impact of the fall in the rapidly descending gale, but "hedge" what? Hedge against what?
"Upwards!" Xu Yan roared, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes vanishing, leaving only a desperate, all-or-nothing madness. "Let's charge out together!"

Before he could finish speaking, he moved amidst another wave of intense tremors as he plummeted downwards.

His hands suddenly plunged into the phantom image in front of his chest, making an incredibly violent, tearing motion.

"Shadow Gate, open!"

The moment he opened the door, their descent accelerated dramatically, as if this act of defying yin and yang had angered the rules of the entire world.

The shadow beneath his feet instantly boiled, no longer a flat attachment, but transformed into a deep well that opened up beneath them, filled with an ancient chill.

Countless twisted shadow creatures, composed of pure malice and despair, shrieked as they spewed forth from it.

They have no physical form, yet they carry the chill that can freeze the soul and the negative emotions that can tear apart the vitality of all living things.

"This is...?!" Chen Zhiwei was horrified. This was using ghosts as cannons to launch the two of them.

The chilling aura made her soul tremble, but the resolute expression emanating from Xu Yan made her suppress the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

Xu Yan gritted his teeth, feeling the dual sting of the shadowy current impacting his body and soul, with only one thought burning in his mind: "Go up!!"

boom--!
A cold, viscous, and malicious countercurrent, like a tangible black tide, violently crashed against Chen Zhiwei's psionic barrier.

The barrier instantly emitted a teeth-grinding creak, and thick, ever-spreading, eerie black frost condensed on its surface at a visible speed.

"Uh!"

Chen Zhiwei groaned, feeling as if her sea of ​​consciousness was being pierced and churned by countless ice spikes, the intense pain causing her vision to go black for a moment.

What terrified her even more was that the force coming from the barrier wasn't just a pure shock; it was also mixed with countless frantic whispers and desperate howls, trying to erode her sanity.

However, amidst this extreme cold and pain—

She could clearly feel that the despairing feeling of weightlessness had lessened.

Several boulders that were originally falling at the same pace as them were now clearly and rapidly falling from below their field of vision.

"Senior brother! It worked!"

She blurted it out almost without thinking, her voice trembling with pain, yet unable to hide a hint of joy at escaping a desperate situation.

They're rising!

Fighting against the collapsing matrix, going against the current!

Xu Yan clenched his teeth, and the dark red blood overflowing from the corner of his mouth was stretched into thin threads by the powerful updraft.

He was experiencing a more direct spiritual erosion, the chill of which seemed to freeze his soul.

But he also felt that this "rise" was hard-won.

Hope, like a spark bursting forth in the darkness, suddenly ignited his cold pupils.

But this flame of hope burned for only a brief moment.

The torrent of shadows gushing from the portal began to visibly weaken after propelling them upwards for nearly a hundred meters.

Even more devastatingly, the scale of the collapse above far exceeded expectations, and the "skylight" that symbolized the exit remained out of reach, as if it could never be touched.

All around them, even larger structures were crashing down on them from above with destructive force.

The rate of ascent has slowed significantly, and there is even a tendency for it to fall again.

"The thrust... isn't enough!"

Chen Zhiwei shouted anxiously, but the hope that had just risen was quickly extinguished by the cold reality. The black frost on the psionic barrier was aggravating her exhaustion, and despair crept back into her heart.

"not enough……"

Xu Yan gasped for breath, his gaze fixed on the still distant exit. The light in his eyes did not waver in the slightest; instead, it became even sharper and more frantic.

"Then... come again!"

Xu Yan didn't stop for a moment, not even having time to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth.

He suddenly waved his hand in the air, forcibly seizing the fragments of space around him that were shattered by the collapse of the matrix and refracted chaotic light and shadow. With his finger as a pen and his soul as ink, he drew a twisted crack in the air, shimmering with countless broken reflections.

"Open the second door, the mirror door!"

The crack suddenly widened, as if an invisible giant mirror had been torn open in the air.

At first, it was just a blurry distortion of light and shadow, but the next moment—

One by one, figures flowed out from it.

They have the exact same face as Chen Zhiwei, the exact same clothes, and even perfectly replicated her slightly furrowed brows due to the depletion of her spiritual energy.

However, the countless eyes that looked at her were empty and lifeless, like polished glass beads, unable to reflect any light or vitality.

Hundreds and thousands of "Chen Zhiwei" floated in the air, creating an extremely bizarre and chilling scene.

They drifted silently toward the psionic barrier like jellyfish, not attacking, but instead extending countless pale, cold hands that gently touched the surface of the barrier.

The biting cold instantly pierced through the barrier, making Chen Zhiwei feel as if she had fallen into an ice cave.

Immediately afterwards, a chilling thought, like a venomous snake, burrowed directly into their minds:

"Stay...become one of us...this is the real place..."

“Look, we are just like you… The outside world… is an illusion…”

The voice did not come from the outside world, but echoed directly in their minds, carrying a twisted, nauseating sense of affinity that wildly shook their perception.

Chen Zhiwei was so horrified that her blood seemed to run cold, and her face turned ashen.

Seeing countless "selves" extending invitations with empty eyes was a shock far more devastating than any monstrous monster, almost tearing her sanity apart.

She even had an absurd urge to reach out and touch it, to confirm which one was the real her.

"No—! Get away!"

Xu Yan's eyes were bloodshot; Chen Zhiwei's fearful and confused gaze pierced his heart like a sharp knife.

He absolutely cannot allow her to be assimilated by these images and lose her way in them.

He roared, no longer caring about the backlash, and his body suddenly erupted with pure and blazing golden spiritual light, like a miniature blazing sun rising fiercely amidst endless shadows.

"laugh--!"

Wherever the light reached, those "mirrors" that tried to merge into the barrier were like wax figures thrown into flames, emitting silent screams as they twisted, shattered, and dissipated.

However, with each shattered mirror image, Xu Yan felt as if a piece of his mind was forcibly ripped out.

It wasn't just a drain on energy; it was more like personally destroying a "connection" closely related to Chen Zhiwei, bringing a profound emptiness and excruciating pain to the soul.

His face paled even more, but the arm he held around Chen Zhiwei and the cold flame in his eyes did not diminish in the slightest.

The force pushing the mirror door weakened again, and the exit, so close yet so far, seemed to be mercilessly mocking their efforts.

The suction force from below, like the gaping maw of a giant beast, gripped them tightly once more, and the downward momentum became obvious again. "Not enough... far from enough!" Chen Zhiwei's voice trembled with sobs and exhaustion; the psionic barrier had become as thin as a cicada's wing under the continuous impact.

Xu Yan did not answer.

A near-mad determination flashed in his eyes. He suddenly closed them, and when he opened them again, they were filled with blood.

Without hesitation, he bit his tongue hard, and a mouthful of hot, strangely golden-red blood gushed out. Instead of dissipating, it twisted and intertwined in the air, instantly forming a huge, ferocious, and seemingly alive blood-red talisman.

"The third gate: the Blood Gate, open!"

Blood Gate – Using the caster's lifespan and life force as fuel, it connects to the Netherworld Blood Sea!
Fu Cheng, the gate appears!
It was not a simple crack, but a viscous, scarlet phantom of a sea of ​​blood spreading out beneath them.

A river of blood, exuding a strong stench of rust and decaying corpses, shot into the sky, carrying countless fragmented souls that were sinking, struggling, and wailing within it.

The force of this filthy torrent far exceeded that before, making the two of them feel as if they were being violently thrown upwards by an invisible giant hand.

But a price was paid in the process!

Xu Yan let out a suppressed roar of pain. He could clearly "hear" the sound of his life force rapidly flowing away like sand in an hourglass, and a few glaring gray strands appeared at his temples in an instant.

Even more terrifying, countless translucent arms formed from resentment stretched out from the river of blood, tightly binding the barrier and pulling it downwards frantically, trying to drag them into this river of eternal torment.

"Hold on!"

Xu Yan roared, grabbed Chen Zhiwei's hand that was channeling spiritual energy, and poured his own remaining spiritual energy into the barrier without reservation. The two of them worked together to wrestle against the terrifying dragging force.

The barrier emitted a piercing scream as it was on the verge of collapse under the scouring and tearing of the blood river, and its light flickered rapidly.

With the final, most powerful push from the Blood Gate, they finally reached the edge of the exit.

The distorted band of light was almost within reach.

However, the ultimate suction force from the collapse of the matrix core below also reached its peak at this moment, like countless tough spider silks, wrapping around their ankles and trying to strangle their last hope.

Just one step away! Just one last step away!
Xu Yan stopped, forcibly hovering at the boundary between light and darkness, life and death.

He turned around, gripped Chen Zhiwei's shoulders tightly with both hands, and looked deeply into her bewildered and anxious eyes.

He didn't form hand seals or draw talismans. He simply opened his mouth slowly, facing her.

No sound.

But a terrifying shriek, transcending physical boundaries and originating from the very essence of the soul, erupted from him like a destructive ripple.

This is the gate of the tongue—the final barrier between lies and truth!
Chen Zhiwei couldn't hear anything, but she felt as if her soul had been thrown into a boiling pot of oil.

Countless voices of "Xu Yan" exploded wildly in the deepest part of her consciousness, colliding and tearing at each other—

A voice is firmly declaring, "Love her! Protect her!"

Another voice cried out desperately, "Save her! Take her home!"

This was followed by the chilling revelation: "This is fake! It's all a dream!"

The most devastating blow came from that name that had been suppressed for so long, which, with its bloody truth, ruthlessly pierced her consciousness: "She is Shen Mengyao!"

Ultimately, it was a blood-soaked, ironclad rule formed by all voices: "Don't speak! Absolutely don't speak! Live on! Even in your dreams!"

"puff--!"

Xu Yan's body trembled violently, and he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. This time, even the corners of his eyes and earlobes were oozing terrifying blood vessels.

His whole body was like a porcelain vase that had been shattered from the inside, covered with invisible cracks.

Although Chen Zhiwei was unaware of the truth, the terrifying impact on her soul almost made her faint, and she could only rely on instinct to maintain the last bit of spiritual energy.

It's now!

Using this last, purest, and most violent mental counterforce, Xu Yan used his last bit of strength to hold the almost unconscious Chen Zhiwei tightly in his arms, like a shooting star shooting backward, forcefully breaking through that last, shimmering boundary.

boom! ! ! !

All sounds, light, pulling sensations, and the feeling of falling... it was as if everything in the world had been completely detached at this moment.

Immediately afterwards, an incredibly heavy impact came from behind.

The two crashed heavily onto the solid ground... which exuded an unusually cold and deathly aura.

Xu Yan lay face down on the cold ground, his body convulsing from violent coughing. Each breath carried a rusty, bloody stench, and the blood foam gushing from deep in his throat stained the dust around his lips.

He felt as if his soul had been torn apart by those four gates of hell, leaving only a broken, empty shell.

"Cough...cough cough..." Chen Zhiwei's equally painful coughing came from the side.

The sound jolted his scattered thoughts back to reality.

With great difficulty, he used all his strength to lift his head, and the first thing he saw was Chen Zhiwei's equally disheveled but undeniably present figure.

We're still alive...we're all still alive.

A sharp emotion, a mixture of extreme relief and endless sorrow, instantly overwhelmed the excruciating pain in his body, almost bringing him to tears.

He struggled to prop himself up on his elbows and looked at her.

Chen Zhiwei was also struggling to sit up, the exhaustion from depleted spiritual energy causing her body to tremble uncontrollably.

She looked at Xu Yan, the intense joy of surviving the ordeal just beginning to surface in her eyes, before being overwhelmed by deeper horror and bewilderment.

"The...Eighteen Secret Manuals..." Her voice was terribly hoarse, trembling with disbelief, "Senior brother...you actually...forcefully opened four of the Ghost Gates?! Those are forbidden techniques explicitly prohibited in the scriptures! They are evil arts that burn one's life! You..."

Her words caught in her throat. Looking at Xu Yan, who was covered in wounds, barely breathing, and even with graying temples, all her fear and questions about the taboo ultimately turned into an overwhelming heartache and fear.

Xu Yan roughly wiped the blood from his lips and chin with the back of his hand, the action carrying an almost numb brutality.

He couldn't explain it.

Should I tell her that the world beneath her feet is just a dream?

Tell her that the "home" he was desperately trying to return to was, in her subconscious, the cold hospital room filled with life-support machines.

He could only silently raise his hand and gently wipe away the grime mixed with dust and tears from the corner of her eyes with his fingertips.

This action is no longer just about care between lovers; it's more like a lonely prison guard wiping away the only light in the cage.

Her body temperature, the faint pulse beneath her skin. This was the only certainty of reality at that moment.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice low and hoarse, as if sandpaper had been rubbing against his throat, “We… need to contact the outside world.”

He needs to confirm, to find more reliable coordinates on this ruin of cognition.

He helped Chen Zhiwei lean against the broken wall to rest, and then took out the antique-style terminal.

The cold, metallic exterior was covered in scratches, reflecting his equally wounded heart.

Supervisor Lin Lan.

When the name came to mind, he subconsciously glanced at Chen Zhiwei.

She was closing her eyes to regulate her breathing, her long, thick eyelashes casting faint shadows on her pale face. Her brows were slightly furrowed, clearly indicating that the depletion of her spiritual energy and the mental shock from the previous Ghost Gate incident were still tormenting her.

He entered the information as if executing a pre-set program: [The ruins have collapsed; the judge's fate is unknown.]

Click Send.

The success notification lit up, but my heart remained as still as a stagnant pool, unable to stir even the slightest ripple.

He stared at that name, beginning to dredge it from the abyss of memory.

Lin Lan... that woman who is always meticulous, decisive, and whose eyes occasionally flash with a hint of inquisitiveness.

He searched every corner of his twenty years of real life, and looked through every possible interpersonal network.

No.

In the database of real-world memories, there is an absolute blank regarding the existence of "Lin Lan".

She is like a sophisticated program, meticulously written and perfectly embedded in the architecture of this "city emergency rapid response center," with clear functions and self-consistent logic, but lacking only the anchor line connecting her to reality.

This discovery left him slightly uneasy, but not surprised.

He then switched to A Zhe's communication channel.

Mission accomplished, safe return.

The moment he sent the message, a very faint ripple did indeed stir in his heart.

Ah Zhe, that young man who always carries the enthusiasm and whimsy unique to tech geeks, whose eyes light up at a single word of affirmation from him, and who nags endlessly with instructions when he goes on dangerous missions.

This pure concern allowed him to feel a warmth beyond camaraderie in this extraordinary world.

But at this moment, that warmth also cooled down rapidly.

A Zhe's image, too, has no anchor point in real-life memories.

A chill, more piercing than the malevolent aura of the Ghost Gate, crept silently up his spine.

If Lin Lan, A Zhe, and even the bustling "creatures" in this vast city are merely the background of a dream generated autonomously...

What about his struggles, his protection of others, and even the brief moments of warmth he has experienced in this world?
A grand and absurd immersive drama in which he is the only conscious audience member?
He subconsciously looked at Chen Zhiwei again.

She seemed to sense his gaze, slowly opened her eyes, and cast a weak, questioning look at him.

Almost instinctively, Xu Yan shook his head very slightly at her, indicating that everything was alright.

This simple interaction, like a glimmer of light, illuminated a chaotic corner of his mind.

and many more……

Why did he feel disheartened and even feel a sense of absurdity, as if the world was fooling him, because he couldn't find any counterparts for A Zhe and Lin Lan in reality?
This dream was woven by Shen Mengyao.

In her mind, she was a powerful talisman master, "Chen Zhiwei".

Therefore, the social network of relationships that she builds around this world is naturally based on her cognition and needs.

Lin Lan may be a projection of her subconscious concept of a "reliable boss" or "organizational manager".

Ah Zhe is perhaps the embodiment of the image of a "trustworthy technical partner" in her mind.

They exist in her world, in accordance with her logic, but that doesn't mean that I—Xu Yan—must know each and every one of them in reality.

This thought was like the sun breaking through the clouds, instantly dispelling the nameless chill and sense of absurdity he had felt before.

Just like in the real world, a couple or spouse each has their own social circle that is not entirely familiar to the other.

He had only entered her "world," so naturally he had to face the "residents" who were already in her world.

Having figured this out, his mindset was different when he looked at the two names on the terminal again.

They are no longer cold "NPCs," but rather an important part of Shen Mengyao's complete life and social relationships in this dream.

Protecting her, to some extent, also includes understanding and accepting the legitimacy of the "world" in which she exists—even if the world itself is illusory.

Just then, that familiar, faint smell of disinfectant stubbornly entered his nostrils once again.

Unlike before, it was no longer just a vague taste, but like a cold probe piercing his senses directly from the cold hospital room of reality, carrying a desperate sense of reality, stabbing hard into his nerves, ruthlessly reminding him of the final, undeniable truth.

The pull of reality has never disappeared.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the nauseating smell, and leaned down to get closer to Chen Zhiwei.

"Can we walk?" he asked hoarsely, his voice filled with undisguised exhaustion, but deeper still, it conveyed a heavy determination to shoulder the fate of both of them and forge a path to survival in this desperate situation.

Chen Zhiwei looked at him and nodded.

She tried to stand up on her own, but the exhaustion in her body and the immense mental strain caused her legs to buckle and she staggered forward.

Xu Yan immediately reached out and firmly supported her arm.

His movements were swift and decisive.

This time, his support no longer carried any element of "playing" a senior brother, nor was it the initial sense of distance filled with probing and observation.

This is a weighty reliance, a fusion of endless pain, profound understanding, immense responsibility, and a blood oath-like will to protect.

He practically held her in his arms, using his body to support her.

"Lean on me," he whispered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Chen Zhiwei was slightly taken aback, seemingly noticing a subtle yet profound change in his tone and posture, but she was too weak at the moment to delve into it. She simply leaned more of her weight on him and softly hummed in agreement.

And so, leaning on each other and supporting each other, they embarked on their journey back to the photo studio.

The city before us presents a scene even more chilling than the collapse of the matrix itself.

The sky was no longer the familiar color, but a sickly, slowly flowing dark red, like the murky blood of some enormous creature that had not yet congealed, so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

The buildings on both sides of the street looked as if they had been carelessly kneaded by an invisible, malicious hand, exhibiting various distortions and a sense of collapse that defy the laws of physics.

One tall building tilted to one side like a melting candle, yet remained eerily frozen in mid-air; the walls of another building rippled gently like water, vaguely revealing a deeper, more unsettling void behind it.

But the most terrifying thing is silence.

Deathly silence.

Apart from the sound of their faltering, slightly disordered footsteps and their suppressed breathing, there was no other sound in the vast city.

There was no whistling wind sweeping through the ruins, no distant vehicle horns, and none of the expected cries, calls for help, or signs of life from other survivors.

The city seemed to have all its "life force" instantly drained away by some force the moment the matrix core collapsed, leaving only a huge, magnificent, but slowly decaying and collapsing empty shell.

This silence was more oppressive than any clamor; it silently proclaimed the erosion of the very foundations of this dream world.

This journey home, which wasn't particularly long, became incredibly agonizing because of it.

Every step felt like walking on cold ruins formed after the collapse of one's own perception.

Xu Yan could clearly feel Chen Zhiwei's body trembling slightly, not only because of weakness and cold, but also because of an instinctive fear of the surreal, deathly scene before him.

He could only hold her tighter, using the warmth of his body and his firm steps to provide support that was insignificant yet crucial.

Chen Zhiwei would occasionally speak very softly, her voice barely audible: "Senior brother... how did this place... become like this?"

Unable to answer the question about the truth, Xu Yan could only remain silent or offer vague words of reassurance: "The impact of the matrix collapse... exceeded our expectations. Don't be afraid, it'll be over soon."

His gaze swept warily around him; the distorted buildings and fluctuating spatial cracks seemed like signs that this dream world was unstable and might even deteriorate further.

He must return to the relatively safe photo studio as soon as possible.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the familiar shop door with its brass sign appeared at the edge of the horizon, like a lighthouse in the darkness.

"Forgotten Photo Studio".

Those familiar words, bathed in the eerie crimson light of the sky outside the window, emitted a strange, yet incredibly precious, warm glow.

It's like a firm promise, carving out a small, safe area amidst chaos and death.

Seeing it, even Xu Yan's tense nerves relaxed slightly.

Chen Zhiwei, who was leaning against him, let out a very slight sigh of relief, and her tense body visibly relaxed.

“We…have arrived,” she murmured, her voice filled with an almost reverent sense of relief.

Xu Yan helped her and quickened her pace to the shop entrance.

He reached out and pushed open the familiar wooden door, bearing the marks of time.

"jingle--"

The bronze bells hanging above the door emitted a clear and ethereal sound.

The sound seemed to possess some kind of purifying power, instantly drawing an invisible boundary that separated the crimson, distorted, and deathly silent world outside the door.

Inside the store, time seemed to stand still.

Soft, warm-toned light flowed from the antique lampshade, filling every corner and dispelling all the unsettling crimson and distortion of the outside world.

The air was filled with a comforting, familiar scent—a mixture of old photographic paper, developing solution, and vintage wooden cabinets.

What truly thrilled Xu Yan was that the smell of disinfectant, which had haunted him like a nightmare ever since he learned the truth, was completely and cleanly eliminated here.

It's as if the photo studio itself is a self-contained little world with complete rules, refusing to be influenced by the external "reality".

This is the only certainty he has in this collapsing dream world, an isolated island and safe haven unaffected by the chaotic rules at the bottom.

Chen Zhiwei collapsed into the soft, old sofa by the entrance, almost completely exhausted, letting out a long, weary sigh as if trying to expel all the stale air and fear from her lungs.

Xu Yan turned around and carefully locked the shop door, even subconsciously checking whether the latch was secure.

Then, leaning against the cold door panel, he slowly, with a kind of re-confirmation-like scrutiny, swept his gaze over everything familiar in the store.

Those old-fashioned cameras covered in the dust of time, photographs that have captured countless moments and stories hanging on the wall, and stacks of books in the corner that exude the scent of ink and old paper...

Finally, his gaze, like that of a weary bird returning to its nest, fell heavily and deeply on the profile of Chen Zhiwei, who was curled up on the sofa, looking exceptionally vulnerable and real.

She is here.

Here, safely.

that's enough.

This was enough to suppress all his confusion, pain, and suffocation from being in a cage, and enough to support his nearly broken will to continue facing that war with no end in sight and no outcome.

“We’re home, senior brother.” She seemed to sense his gaze, looked up, and gave him a weak yet incredibly real smile that seemed to contain the weight of the entire world.

In that instant, Xu Yan felt as if his heart was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand. Bitterness, tenderness, regret, and despair... all sorts of intense emotions intertwined into a torrent that made it hard to breathe, crashing against his chest.

He did not answer "yes" or "no." Words seemed inadequate at that moment.

He simply walked over in silence, picked up a clean towel from the coffee table, went to the basin of water in the corner, and carefully soaked and wrung it out with warm water.

Then, he returned to the sofa, knelt down, and gently wiped away the dust, dried blood, and tear stains from her cheeks, as if handling a rare treasure, bit by bit.

His movements were focused and silent, carrying an almost ritualistic solemnity.

Chen Zhiwei quietly endured his wiping, closing her eyes, only her slightly trembling eyelashes revealing the turmoil in her heart.

She could feel the restrained tremor in his fingertips, and she could sense the surging, unspeakable emotions behind his movements.

"Mmm." In the end, he responded to her earlier "We're home" with only a single, extremely heavy monosyllable, as if it carried a thousand unspoken words.

Family?
No, he answered silently in his heart. This is not home.

This is the front-line command post on the battlefield, the only relatively sturdy refuge in the prison, and the entire world that "Shen Mengyao" can currently access, which he must defend.

Once he was sure she had finally fallen asleep from extreme exhaustion and her breathing had become steady and long, Xu Yan slowly and almost silently stood up.

The weariness in his eyes was like the deep night, but in the deepest part of this night, a cold and sharp light, like the pupil of a nocturnal beast quietly lighting up on the wasteland, was clearly gathering and burning.

A paradoxical battle—one where he had to protect her in this dream, yet also shatter this dream to save her in reality—was now truly sounding the charge in his heart.

(End of this chapter)