With Chu Lingyun definitively cleared, all three breathed a sigh of relief. Objectively, she simply didn't possess the means to commit the crime.
But not being the perpetrator didn't mean she wasn't connected to the case, nor did it guarantee everything she said was true. Her cooperation and interrogation were still necessary.
Gao Muyang rubbed his aching temples. "Alright," he instructed, "now tell me about this dream of yours. Every detail, from beginning to end. Don't leave anything out."
Chu Lingyun nodded and began her detailed account.
She described working late as usual yesterday. By the time she dragged her exhausted self home, it was already 11 PM. This part, she noted, was backed by solid evidence.
Gao Muyang tapped the table impatiently, interrupting. "Skip that. We know. Start from when you got home. Save time."
Chu Lingyun pursed her lips. He's taking his tiredness and frustration out on me? Suppressing her annoyance, she continued: "It was late, and I had work the next day, so I quickly washed up and went to bed. I drifted off almost immediately. But the dream... it scared me out of my wits."
"In the dream, I was inside an enclosed space... like the cabin of a bus, or a public coach. I sat near the middle, by the window, watching the streets blur past..."
She described it being the rainy season. A fine drizzle misted the window, forming tiny droplets that trickled down. The collective breath of the passengers fogged the cold glass with condensation.
The driver up front navigated the rainy city streets steadily. The other seats were filled with strangers – some resting, some murmuring to each other.
But as the bus approached that location, it jerked to an abrupt halt. Passengers gasped, startled, craning their necks to see outside. Chu Lingyun, curious, wiped away the hazy condensation on her window.
The icy chill of the glass sent a shiver through her. When her vision cleared, her blood ran cold, freezing in her veins...
"You saw the fire, didn't you?" Gao Muyang's brow furrowed as he gauged the truth of her words. She nodded emphatically. "Yes. I saw raging flames outside the window."
Chu Lingyun didn't pause. "But my perspective in the dream was strange. I wasn't just seeing through my own eyes. It was like... my soul could leave my body. I had a god's-eye view of everything happening."
"It felt like I had a split consciousness. One part watched the fire unfold through the bus window. Another part drifted outside the bus, floating in the cold, rainy street, right into the heart of the disaster scene."
"Oh?" Gao Muyang leaned in, intrigued. He'd never heard anything like this. "You're saying you could switch perspectives at will in the dream? See everything with... clairvoyance?"
Chu Lingyun didn't confirm or deny. "All I know is I could perceive everything with crystal clarity: It was the dead of night, raining. Almost no one was outside, just the occasional passing car."
"The apartment building stood right at the intersection of two roads. Our bus had stopped dead center in the street, directly in front of it." She pointed outside the coffee shop, indicating the spot.
"Could you have visited this area before? Maybe subconsciously remembered the layout? And... did the scene in your dream match the actual crime scene?" Gao Muyang probed, skepticism lingering.
"I'm certain I've never been here before. Today was my first time. You can check my travel records further back if you don't believe me! But the dream... it was identical to reality!" Chu Lingyun stated firmly, her confidence bolstered by her proven innocence.
Only Gao Muyang felt like he'd been struck by a hammer blow. He'd never handled a case this bizarre.
In the dream, everyone on the bus strained to watch the inferno. The fire grew fiercer, an apocalyptic sea of flames devouring everything in its path. The meager drizzle was utterly powerless against it.
Chu Lingyun heard gasps and cries erupt around her. "Oh god! Fire! Someone call the fire department!" A cacophony of panicked voices filled her ears.
She stared, transfixed, understanding with terrifying clarity: The fire started on the third floor. The dead of night, when people slept soundly. The blaze raged out of control, spreading relentlessly from east to west.
A phrase flashed in her mind: "A raging inferno devouring everything in its path." The terrifying scene from books was playing out before her eyes, rooms consumed one after another like beads on a string.
The people inside were trapped by invisible bonds, writhing in a fiery hell. Flames shot skyward, painting everything a hellish red, like the apocalypse in a disaster movie.
Chu Lingyun's voice caught as she recounted this, trembling with residual fear just from describing it.
Gao Muyang observed her silently, noting every flicker of expression, every gesture. His phone lay face down on the table, its recording function silently capturing every word.
"I don't know why," she whispered, "even though the bus was some distance from the third floor, I could feel their screams. I could feel them burning, struggling, their lives slipping away..."
"Until their strength gave out, and they collapsed, letting the flames consume them... It was agony. Watching the disaster unfold, powerless to stop it."
"The searing heat of the blaze blasted against my face. I was forced to experience, immersively, the mercilessness of fire and water. The fire was unstoppable. Humans are so insignificant before such a force."
"I saw the young man in the east apartment. The heat woke him. He leapt from his bed, fought desperately, but it was useless. Soon, he slumped lifeless into the inferno."
Here, Chu Lingyun seemed parched. She gulped her coffee, the fear etched on her face unmistakably genuine.
She said it felt like watching a shadow play or a flipbook. The crimson flames cast stark, horrifying silhouettes of the victims onto the windows.
She perceived every detail: how they screamed for help, how they fought the flames, the arrangement of the rooms... as if she were truly there, witnessing it firsthand.
She saw the young man in the east apartment wasn't old, quite handsome, reminiscent of a young Edison Chen... His room was cluttered with art supplies, like a small studio.
Hearing this, a flicker of something like jealousy crossed Gao Muyang's face. He blurted out, "You like Edison Chen?" Chu Lingyun blinked, startled. "Huh? What does that have to do with the case?" He quickly shut his mouth, looking abashed.
Chu Lingyun continued. The young man had been drunk and asleep when the fire ignited in his room. He woke with a start, desperately trying to fight the blaze, but ultimately failed and was burned to death.
"And as I said before," she went on, "the middle apartment held the young couple with two kids. The older child slept in their own room; only the newborn was with the parents."
"When the fire reached them, the room instantly became hell. The older child, startled awake, stumbled towards his parents' room, still clutching the ear of his stuffed rabbit."
"He screamed hysterically for his mom and dad, pounding on their door with all his might. Unaware that Death's shadow already loomed over him, ready to claim his young life:"
"The intense heat weakened the door. Finally, under one desperate push from the child, it collapsed, pinning him beneath the scorching wood. Soon, the struggles ceased."
"In the east apartment lived an elderly couple, white-haired and frail. The old are often slow to react. The catastrophe unfolded around them while they still slept peacefully in their bed."
"Only when the flames licked his skin did the old man finally wake. Remarkably calm, he gathered his wife into his arms, comforting her as they awaited the end."
"Companions since youth, destined for their golden anniversary... yet they found each other sooner on the road to the Yellow Springs... hoping to reunite in the next life."
"It was too cruel..." Chu Lingyun murmured, tears welling up. Whether from remembered smoke or sheer horror, she felt the sky had fallen. It was truly a world-ending calamity, consuming the young, the prime, the middle-aged, and the old in one fiery sweep.
Inside the bus, panic escalated. Shouts of "Fire! Fire!" filled the air. Chu Lingyun desperately wanted to help, too, but some unbreakable rule forbade it.
It was as if they were passengers on a tourist bus of souls, only permitted a brief stopover. The driver couldn't simply open the doors and let them interfere with the causal threads of the living world.
So Chu Lingyun, and everyone else on that spectral bus, could only watch, helpless, as those innocent lives vanished before their eyes.
After a brief, agonizing pause, the driver stepped on the gas. As the bus lurched forward, the sheer horror finally overwhelmed Chu Lingyun. Her eyes snapped open. She was awake.
The nightmare had nearly scared her to death. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs. She touched her back and the sheets beneath her – both were soaked with cold sweat. She'd been terrified beyond measure!
Just as she began to breathe a sigh of relief, thankful it was only a dream, the unthinkable happened: She reached for her phone to check the time. A single glance at the screen nearly stopped her heart a second time. The phone clattered to the floor, skidding a meter away.
Because the first notification blazing on her lock screen screamed: "MAJOR FIRE IN SHUANGHU DISTRICT OVERNIGHT! MULTIPLE CASUALTIES REPORTED!"