Reality Programming Association

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Abnormal Disappearance Case

”Bro, my friend... she’s vanished.”

A storm violent enough to drown Jiangcheng was raging.

When Yu Zhengze handed him a towel, Yu Xian felt like a survivor just dredged up from the depths of the sea.

He cupped an enamel mug in his hands. The words ”Municipal Criminal Investigation Team” on its side were chipping, feeling wrinkled to the touch.

The hot water reddened his palms, but he couldn’t feel a single bit of warmth.

”First, don’t panic. How long has it been since you could reach your friend?”

The voice came from behind him. The man had cranked the heater to its highest setting, and hot air was blasting out with a ROAR:

”It’s common for cell towers to have issues in a storm like this.”

This was his cousin, the deputy captain of the municipal criminal investigation detachment.

He knew his cousin was busy. He definitely wouldn’t have bothered him if it wasn’t for something important.

Yu Zhengze pulled up a chair and sat down:

”If she’s been missing for more than twenty-four hours, I’ll take you to file a report.”

”I told you, she’s not missing.”

Yu Xian stared at a tea stem floating upright in his mug and said slowly:

”She’s vanished.”

”Not missing, but vanished?”

The veteran detective, who had led investigations for years, repeated Yu Xian’s words with a hint of confusion before asking:

”Who vanished?”

”Xia Li.”

As he spoke her name, Yu Xian felt a cramp seize his stomach.

It must have been the day before yesterday, right after final exams ended.

Xia Li had messaged him, saying she’d bought groceries and wanted to hold a ”Reality Programming Association” team-building event over the weekend.

They called it a team-building event, but in reality, the entire club consisted of just the two of them.

That makeshift club, the ”Reality Programming Association,” had somehow managed to stick around since their second year of middle school.

Xia Li was a great cook, and she’d occasionally have Yu Xian over to treat him to a good meal.

”I’d arranged to have dinner with Xia Li at her rented apartment.”

Worried she’d be too busy to handle everything herself, I took a taxi to Lijing Garden first thing this morning.

It’s an old residential complex built in the nineties.

Rainwater streamed down the gray-white mosaic tiles of the exterior walls, running onto the blue-tinted glass characteristic of that era.

A slate-gray curtain of rain fell. I’d forgotten my umbrella and had to run.

This whole thing was too bizarre. He didn’t want Yu Zhengze to think he was crazy, so he did his best to keep his voice steady:

”She lives in Lijing Garden, in a building with no elevator. She rents the top floor apartment, the ninth floor, apartment 905.”

”I know Lijing Garden.”

Yu Zhengze tapped a cigarette out of its pack, glanced at Yu Xian, then put it back down.

”That complex is pretty old. Rent for the top floor is cheap. So? You went there?”

”I went.”

As he spoke, he could still recall the smell of damp rain and cooking fumes from when he first entered the stairwell.

The landings were cluttered with neighbors’ drying umbrellas and shoe insoles. He could faintly hear the sound of a TV commercial.

It was an old complex, mostly inhabited by the elderly, where time seemed to pass slowly.

The higher he climbed, the fewer residents there were.

The stairs in the old-style building were steep. He and Xia Li had complained about it many times; every visit left him dead tired.

He could only remember her chattering on, though he couldn’t recall the specifics now. It was probably something about him needing to exercise more.

The moment he reached the top floor, he let out a breath and knocked on the door—KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—thinking about how he was going to complain to Xia Li again about this god-awful nine-story walk-up.

Yu Zhengze glanced at Yu Xian. ”You knocked, and no one answered?”

”...Someone did.”

When the door swung outward, he instinctively took a step back.

Then he froze. He remembered Xia Li’s door opened inward. The words on the tip of his tongue died in his throat—

The person who opened the door wasn’t Xia Li.

It was a man in his forties, wearing house clothes and cotton slippers.

The man was also taken aback. He looked Yu Xian up and down before asking who he was looking for.

Hearing this, Yu Zhengze asked:

”Did you go to the wrong place? Or did she have a guest over?”

Yu Xian’s grip on the mug tightened. Recalling the situation still sent a chill down his spine.

Back then, he had quickly looked up and seen the number 805 on the blue doorplate. He apologized in a fluster, his face burning:

”’Sorry, I miscounted the floors. I’m looking for the one upstairs, 905.’”

’So embarrassing.’ He turned to bolt up the stairs.

”’Hang on, young man.’ The man behind him suddenly called out.”

Yu Xian stopped and looked back at him, confused.

The man pointed at the ceiling, then at the staircase beside them.

”’This is the top floor. There is no ’upstairs.’ Your friend doesn’t live in the attic, does she?’”

The door was pulled shut with a THUD. A sense of wrongness crawled up his spine.

’The top floor? But isn’t this only the eighth floor?’

He rushed out of the building’s entrance, standing in the rain as he scanned his surroundings over and over—

’This is the place, isn’t it? This is it! This is it...’

He tilted his head back, letting the cold rain beat against his face. His gaze pierced the downpour, fixed on the building as he counted the floors, one by one.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He counted again.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

’How... How are there really only eight floors?’

At this, Yu Zhengze frowned and asked instinctively:

”Then where did the ninth floor go?”

He stared blankly at his cousin.

”Yeah, that’s what I want to know. Where did the ninth floor go?”

The office fell into a dead silence. Only the quartz clock on the wall kept ticking. TICK, TOCK.

Yu Zhengze finally lit that cigarette. He took a deep drag, looking at Yu Xian through the haze of smoke.

”Are you sure Xia Li lived here? Are you sure this building had nine floors before? Are you sure there wasn’t anything above the eighth floor—”

”I’m sure!”

Yu Xian raised his voice, cutting off the last half of his cousin’s sentence.

He could feel the doubt creeping into Yu Zhengze’s tone, his gaze taking on a professional, scrutinizing quality.

He didn’t blame his cousin for not believing him. After all, Xia Li’s disappearance could be explained as a complex missing person case with hidden details. But the disappearance of an entire floor was simply absurd.

Tips: In Chinese, ”Yu Xian” is pronounced the same as ”cosine”.