Tricked 045: “Lucid Dream” Ends

After Meng Chunhong finished telling everything, she tugged at the corners of her lips and smiled.

“Didn’t expect to see you again, sister,” her eyes sparkled, “this is so cool!”

But Meng Henshui didn’t respond to her.

Time froze; even the air stopped moving. Meng Henshui’s surroundings went deathly silent, her eardrums buzzing, her eyes aching, her ears hurting, all her limbs starting to hurt, her soul seemed pierced through by something, cold winds from every direction kept sweeping through her soul, leaving it riddled with countless holes.

It hurt so much.

She curled up in pain.

No one expected it would turn out like this.

In Jiang Yan’s original assumption, Meng Chunhong might well have enraged the kidnappers while escaping, resulting in her being accidentally killed and buried somewhere, with the kidnappers then covering this up from the police.

She hadn’t expected Meng Chunhong had been kidnapped a second time. Not only Jiang Yan, no one could have imagined Meng Chunhong was kept imprisoned for almost a year in the underground palace by elders from the same village.

Danger was everywhere.

【………..】

【I don’t know what to say.】

【Don’t want to say a single word, I’m so sad.】

【When Chunhong mentioned she had travelled through time, I even considered the possibility for a moment—never thought it would turn out like this…】

【Those five girls in the underground palace were all so nice.】

【I was too distressed just now, didn’t catch all the names, but I remember they all sounded beautiful.】

【Their parents put so much care into naming them. Never thought those names would appear in a place like this.】

【If I had a sister like Chunhong, I would avenge her too.】

【She’s not some pest. Her mother did nothing wrong. From start to finish, it was all Meng Zhaolin’s fault.】

【Meng Chunhong is a hero—she’s the true heroine of the 817 Trafficking Case.】

【That’s right, she’s the heroine, so why must she be forgotten? Why do Meng Zhaolin and Meng Xiangjiang have the right to such good lives??】

【Did no one notice? Even just now, Meng Chunhong did her best to comfort Meng Henshui emotionally.】

【Telling the most tragic story in a humorous and witty way.】

【Halfway through the story, I only felt a strange, nameless unease — what’s bass with the taste of steamed buns, why do all gourmet foods taste like rotten vegetable leaves — only at the end did I understand what Meng Chunhong had gone through, what those five girls had gone through.】

The story was too long; it had already gone past five minutes, and Shen Xiaoxiao’s body could no longer bear it—two streams of fresh blood flowed from her nostrils.

Shen Huanhuan hurriedly pulled up Meng Henshui.

“Say goodbye to your sister. If you don’t, it’ll be too late.”

Meng Henshui’s body was pulled this way and that; she stared hard at Shen Xiaoxiao, or rather, at Shen Xiaoxiao’s eyes.

She saw her sister in those eyes; she knew it.

Meng Henshui’s throat trembled violently, but she said nothing.

“Even if you don’t say it, she’ll leave.” Shen Huanhuan saw her intent and said softly, “Didn’t you miss your chance to say goodbye before?”

Tears instantly surged from Meng Henshui’s eyes, frightened by Shen Huanhuan’s words, afraid it would be too late again, she blurted, “Chunhong.”

Meng Chunhong tilted her head to look at her sister.

Before being pushed out of Shen Xiaoxiao’s body, she heard her sister’s farewell.

“I miss you so much.”

Meng Chunhong thought, what a coincidence, I miss you too.

*

Meng Henshui said her farewells to the rest.

She was going to dig up her sister and the other four girls’ remains. Twelve years had passed—the girls must have already been reduced to white bones, but regardless of what they had become, they must be brought back into the light.

The Supernatural Administration Bureau had already dispatched collaborating police officers; some of these police were psychics themselves, some had psychics in their family, and the team that carried out the last operation in Silkworm Village was the same group.

At 10 a.m., the largest amusement park in Changxia City announced it was closing, and by 10:40, all personnel were evacuated.

At 11 a.m., police sirens wailed.

Police cars cleared a way for the excavators. Passersby didn’t know what was happening, but quickly made way, watching as they went.

“Looks like they’re headed for the amusement park?”

“What’s going on? Why are they bringing in excavators?”

“This is huge—feels like something major happened!”

Several excavators worked at once, paving bricks pulled up one after another, the massive Ferris wheel crashed down, billowing clouds of dust. The digging went from morning until night, then from night into the next afternoon.

Workers and police rotated in a seamless shift, determined to excavate the five girls’ remains as quickly as possible.

Meng Henshui sat on the dirt pile, occasionally lowering her head to sip some water and moisten her throat.

“We brought you some food,” said Shen Huanhuan.

Meng Henshui shook her head. “I’m not eating for now, thanks for keeping me company.”

Shen Xiaoxiao, crouched nearby, carelessly said, “Ah, it’s nothing.”

After hosting the séance yesterday, she’d fallen unconscious, only waking up by noon today, after which she and her sister rushed over.

“Who knows how long it’ll take to dig…” Yu Renwan sighed softly and focused on her boxed meal. Xiao Wa pecked out all the meat in a few quick jabs, then happily flew off to perch on a branch.

The beautiful carousel was dismantled, the ornate base lifted and set aside by a machine. Jiang Yan stood under a tree’s shadow, gaze far away, fixed at some unseen point in the air.

A burst of excitement suddenly erupted.

That voice seemed to pierce the sky, rising sharply at the end. Two or three police officers quickly gathered around, and Meng Henshui, in high heels, hurried after them.

“They found daily items!”

“They’ve reached the cellar’s perimeter!”

“This is great!!”

As the yellow dirt fell in clods, several tattered clothes were unearthed, filling everyone with renewed spirit. After confirming the spot, they kept digging deeper, exposing more and more things to the sunlight—hole-riddled bed sheets, a broken wooden bed in fragments, and a blue backpack.

Meng Henshui stared dumbly at the backpack for a few moments, mumbling, “That’s Chunhong’s…” She suddenly shouted, “That’s my sister’s backpack! It’s my sister’s backpack!”

A police officer picked up the bag, trotted it outside the cordon, then rushed off. Meng Henshui clutched the bag tightly in her arms.

At 6 p.m., all five skeletons were unearthed.

Meng Henshui stood far outside the cordon, watching for a while. The police had the place tightly sealed, and the remains needed to be taken to the station for processing, so she didn’t go near Chunhong’s bones.

She had already seen Chunhong’s soul; that was enough.

After a moment, Meng Henshui looked away for good. She pulled a pen from her pocket and turned toward Jiang Yan at her side, lowering her voice: “Look.”

Jiang Yan followed her gaze. Meng Henshui twisted open the pen, taking out a tiny, dead tracking device.

“You can’t buy these; only police have them… I found it in Chunhong’s bag.”

Jiang Yan said, “You have even more evidence to report Meng Zhaolin.”

Meng Henshui gave a faint smile. “Even if I had no other evidence—just this would be enough.” She handed the pen to Jiang Yan: “I need to go home; some of the reporting materials are still at my place. I’m worried about losing them.”

“This is too important; could you keep it safe for me?”

Jiang Yan accepted the pen. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Having thanked her, Meng Henshui turned and left.

Shen Huanhuan noticed Meng Henshui leaving and came to Jiang Yan. “She went home?”

“Yeah.”

Shen Huanhuan watched Meng Henshui’s receding silhouette, turned her head wanting to ask when Jiang Yan would be leaving, only to notice Jiang Yan’s gaze wasn’t quite right.

Jiang Yan’s eyes had never left Meng Henshui until she finally disappeared. Only then did she lower her gaze.

“Any news on Zhang Chenxi?”

“The Bureau just sent word,” Shen Huanhuan replied. “Zhang Chenxi died of lung cancer two years ago, all his money blown by his sons, nobody cared about him in his old house. I heard he thrashed around in pain the last few months of his life. That’s what you call getting what you deserve.”

“But it’s only going to get worse for him now. He’s dead, so he can’t die again, no matter how scared or in pain, suicide is impossible,” Shen Huanhuan said. “Guys like him, they’ll be slowly tortured in the interrogation chambers until their souls collapse. That level of endless torment—no ghost would want to go on living.”

Jiang Yan did not comment.

Neither spoke.

Shen Huanhuan checked her messages; a moment later, she looked up. “Meng Chunhong’s remains being found will surely have reached Meng Zhaolin by now. He still holds his post, after all. I keep thinking I’m worried about Meng Henshui.”

“I want to go wait for her downstairs, see her when she comes out… want to go too?”

Shen Xiaoxiao heard they were going and insisted on joining: “Perfect, after waiting, let’s grab a late-night snack!”

Yu Renwan timidly raised a hand. “C-can I come too?”

Shen Xiaoxiao slung an arm around her like an old friend. “Of course!”

But just after taking a couple steps with Yu Renwan, a bird egg hit her on the head, and an angry mother bird swooped at her face. Shen Xiaoxiao immediately let go and darted away with her hands over her head.

Meng Henshui had mentioned her building earlier, so finding it was easy. After asking the gatekeeper, the four walked toward Building 13.

The evening breeze was gentle. The twins’ quiet chatter made the mood anything but heavy.

Building 13 was right ahead. Jiang Yan fingered the pen in her pocket and looked ahead with an unreadable expression.

“Almost there!” Shen Xiaoxiao said, bouncing.

“Let’s hope Meng Zhaolin doesn’t pull any stunts and just cough it all up—”

The word “sentence” wasn’t even out when there was a faint whooshing sound. Shen Xiaoxiao’s pupils instantly contracted.

A shadow flashed into view—appearing so abruptly, as if falling straight along a line from the highest visible point to the lowest.

Bang!!

With a loud crash, a man landed head-first in front of them, smashed to pulp almost the instant he hit, bright red blood splattering all over Shen Xiaoxiao’s face and slowly sliding down, leaving a distinct crimson line.

“………..”

Shen Xiaoxiao’s knees nearly buckled in fright.

“It’s Meng Zhaolin.”

Jiang Yan, having seen his photo before, calmly identified the man.

Meng Zhaolin…

Snapping out of it, Shen Huanhuan jerked her head up toward the heights.

Just then, on the 17th floor, stood a woman in a red dress. The wind whipped her dress and long hair skyward. Meng Henshui seemed to be humming some unknown tune; her soft singing carried off in every direction.

After finishing the song, she clapped her hands, leaned over the balcony railing, and without pause leapt out from high above.

Just like the curtain falling on a story, Meng Henshui used that jump to put a period on her own life.

Gold light shimmered on Shen Huanhuan’s fingertips, a beam of gold shot up at lightning speed—she tried to catch Meng Henshui in midair, and Shen Xiaoxiao noticed, leaping at her in panic.

“No, sis, you can’t change someone else’s fate again, you can’t—”

Shen Xiaoxiao instantly burst into tears, “Sis!”

Hearing this, the golden light at Shen Huanhuan’s fingertips faded and dimmed, her hand curled into a fist and slowly dropped to her side.

There was a thud.

Meng Henshui landed in a tree. By rights, she should have crashed straight through, but instead bounced off the branches a few times before finally dropping to the ground.

Shen Huanhuan dashed over.

Jiang Yan let go, a thin red thread vanishing into her palm.

Soon after, an ambulance arrived, and the unconscious Meng Henshui was carried away on a stretcher.

No one said a word beneath Building 13.

It was Yu Renwan who finally broke the silence, nervously: “… Weren’t we going for a late-night snack?”

Xiao Wa enthusiastically quacked a few times.

Shen Huanhuan exhaled, her stiff body relaxing at last. “Let’s go right now.”

Shen Xiaoxiao rubbed her face. She didn’t explain the meaning of what she’d just shouted, instead suggesting, “There’s a place nearby with amazing mixed noodles, I’ve been recommended it tons of times!”

After this, the Supernatural Administration Bureau would handle everything, so the four simply headed for the mall.

The mall was buzzing. It was the last day of the May Day holiday, almost every store was running promotions, and food was cheaper than usual.

Once seated, they all ordered; maybe because the food was ready-made, the dishes came out incredibly quickly.

Jiang Yan had only taken two bites when the mall loudspeakers came on.

“Here’s a special May Day greeting—”

“Every year during the holidays, we share some memorable and fun stories from the shopping mall’s past, wishing everyone well!”

“Today’s feature is an interview from sixteen years ago with two sisters shopping at the mall. The younger one was so cute. As soon as she saw the camera, she ran over to say hello!”

A moment later, a childish, soft voice played on the loudspeaker.

“Hello there.”

The recording quality wasn’t great, but its age carried a special warmth and nostalgia.

Back then, the host laughed, “Sweetie, are you seven or eight this year?”

“Silly, I’m already ten!” the little girl replied fiercely.

A gentle voice chimed in: “Chunhong, be polite.”

“Oh, all right, whatever you say, sis.”

The host didn’t mind: “Haha, that’s fine. So your name is Chunhong? Why’d you rush up to the camera?”

Meng Chunhong replied cheerfully, “So everyone could see my pretty sister on camera—my one and only, super pretty sister~”

The host gave a friendly chuckle.

He asked Meng Henshui, “And what about you, big sister? Is your little sister your one and only adorable little sis?”

Meng Henshui let out a gentle “Mmm—”, clearly thinking.

After a pause, she shook her head.

“I hope Chunhong can be everyone’s little sister, so everyone can love her.”

“I hope my sister will grow up surrounded by the world’s love.”

*

Meng Henshui woke on the third day after the jump.

When she opened her eyes, she had to process for a long while. She was completely lost over still being alive. That was the 17th floor—how could anyone survive a fall from there? She moved her arms, confirmed her upper body wasn’t paralyzed, lifted her legs, and her lower body seemed fine, too.

But she didn’t have long to dwell—flocks of doctors flooded in, asking about her condition.

Two reporters squeezed in through the gap: “How do you feel about your father killing himself to avoid prosecution?”

Avoiding prosecution…

Meng Henshui looked up. The reporter, realizing she’d made eye contact, quickly pulled out a recorder. “We heard you saw your father jump, and rushed to save him, accidentally falling over the balcony yourself. Is that true?”

Meng Henshui’s mind was blank for a long time; she didn’t answer.

The reporter pressed on: “You must have done a lifetime of good deeds—just a moderate concussion after a fall from that height, by rights you should’ve been smashed to bits. That’s incredible.”

Meng Henshui was puzzled: “Didn’t you… check the security footage?”

“Ah, blossom season just ended, so the petals are everywhere. I heard several camera lenses in your community were gummed up by petals. But having your account is enough. Meng Zhaolin definitely killed himself to escape justice, no other explanation.”

With that, the reporter started furiously scribbling in his notebook.

The doctors weren’t happy—on one hand wanting to ask how she’d shielded herself in the fall, on the other seeing Meng Henshui so dazed, they figured nothing useful would come of it.

Meng Henshui thought back over what the reporter had said, catching the real issue: “Meng Zhaolin—how do you know he killed himself to avoid prosecution?”

“A lot happened while you were out,” the reporter said. “Five girl’s bodies were dug up under the amusement park—you were there, so you know. All the remains have been claimed now. Rumor has it your aunt claimed your sister Meng Chunhong’s bones; the urn is still at home, waiting for you to oversee her burial.”

“The underground palace case has been solved. Next is Meng Zhaolin’s case—turns out the tracker placed on Meng Chunhong during the 817 kidnapping was found, and those are super rare, each with a unique police serial number—Meng Zhaolin was totally finished. The charge of harming his own daughter stuck; they were about to arrest him, and in that very moment, he jumped—what else could it be but suicide to avoid prosecution?”

“He must have panicked. Not that anyone cares—most people online now are focused on your sister Meng Chunhong.”

“All the victims of those old cases have come forward. They were like eleven, twelve back then, now, after thirteen years, they’ve graduated from college. They all say they’ll attend Meng Chunhong’s funeral.”

“In the end, they all owed Meng Chunhong.”

“Hey, I heard you and your sister were super close. Take care, and after you get out, give her the best burial you can.”

The reporter got ready to leave.

Just as he turned, something came to him, and he looked back: “Changxia City’s government is going to build a statue of your sister in Central Park next month, paperwork’s all done. When you’re out, you have to go see it.”

Tears quickly filled Meng Henshui’s eyes.

The reporter reassured her: “Few in this world can be commemorated like this. She’ll never be forgotten.”