Reality Programming Association

Chapter 7: Chapter 3: ”Smiling Suicide Case

By the time she crossed the playground, her shoes were already full of water, and her socks were a soggy mess.

Halfway through their meal in the cafeteria, Xia Li disappeared.

While Yu Xian wolfed down his food, he kept searching for the short-haired figure in a school uniform.

But it wasn’t until he had cleaned his plate that Xia Li returned, carefully cupping a paper cup she had borrowed from who-knows-where.

”Here, drink up. It’s your Life Potion.”

White foam floated on the surface of the brownish-yellow liquid. Looking back on it now, he could faintly recall the smell of a cold remedy powder.

The world was momentarily wiped bright by the windshield wipers, only to be quickly smeared dark by the watery mist.

The weather forecast on the radio ended, followed immediately by the midday news update.

A familiar opening jingle played, followed by the host’s introduction.

”—And first for a tech brief. Several international chip manufacturers admitted during their latest earnings calls that as transistor sizes approach physical limits, the number of components per unit area has struggled to double at its previous pace over the past 18 months. Multiple top physicists have pointed out that Moore’s Law, which has held for over half a century, may have truly reached its end. Global growth in computing power is expected to enter a long plateau...”

Yu Zhengze reached out and changed the station. He didn’t seem to care for that kind of tech news.

A gentle, melodious guqin piece began to play, accompanied by the sound of tea being poured into a cup.

The host’s voice was gentle:

”In this age of information overload, it feels like we’re all being herded by algorithms, and many people are suffering from AI anxiety. Today, we’re honored to have with us the chairman of the Yan Province Calligraphy Association and author of the recent bestseller, *Life of Subtraction*, Mr. Su. Elder Su, what are your thoughts on the ’AI and tech anxiety’ that’s been such a hot topic lately?”

A slow, elderly voice, yet one that was full and resonant, came through the speakers:

”It’s not really anxiety. It’s exhaustion. Hasn’t everyone noticed? Our phones get faster and faster, but our memories get worse and worse. The pixels become ever clearer, yet our vision grows more and more blurred.”

”The ancients spoke of the principle ’the great Dao is in its simplicity.’ A person’s vital essence is finite. Overdeveloping these complex technologies is, in fact, an overdraft on the world’s primordial energy. That is why we advocate for a ’low-energy lifestyle’ and a ’Life of Subtraction.’ Turning off your screens, returning to the countryside, feeling the soil and the air—that is the true path to well-being, in harmony with the natural way of things...”

”He’s got a point,” Yu Zhengze said, turning the car into the gate of an old residential complex. He turned the volume up a little.

”AI is everywhere these days. It makes you feel like you’re falling behind the times if you don’t learn about it. This guy sounds a lot more human than all those clickbait accounts that just peddle anxiety.”

The car shuddered slightly as it came to a stop in front of a drab, gray apartment building.

”We’re here.” Yu Zhengze pulled the key from the ignition. The voice on the radio cut off abruptly, and the world was once again consumed by the monotonous drone of the rain.

Before them was a typical company housing complex. The buildings were packed tightly together, and the sound of the rain ricocheted between the concrete walls.

The two of them dashed under an umbrella into the stairwell. Yu Zhengze stomped his foot, and a dim, sound-activated light flickered on.

Leaving wet tracks on the steps, they climbed the stairs. Yu Zhengze’s apartment was on the third floor.

The metallic JANGLE of a keychain, followed by the CREAK of a security door’s hinges, echoed in the narrow stairwell.

He pushed open the inner door, and a wave of air, thick with the mixed smell of stale tobacco and laundry detergent, washed over them.

”Don’t bother with your shoes, just come in.”

Yu Zhengze kicked a pair of sneakers out of the way by the door and flicked on the living room light.

An incandescent bulb flickered twice before staying on, illuminating the bachelor detective’s somewhat disheveled living space.

It was a two-bedroom apartment, and the decor looked like it hadn’t been touched in more than a decade.

The coffee table in the living room was buried under empty instant coffee packets, used tea bags, and Red Bull cans. The ashtray overflowed with a mountain of cigarette butts.

Yu Xian finally understood where his cousin got the dark circles under his eyes.

Several police uniform jackets were heaped on the sofa, leaving only a small patch of open space to sit.

Yu Zhengze picked up a few newspapers from the floor, saying, as if to ease the awkwardness,

”Things have been hectic with a case, I haven’t had a moment to clean in two weeks.”

He walked to the window, intending to open it for some air, but after a glance at the downpour outside, he drew his hand back.

”Have a seat. I’m going to change,” Yu Zhengze said, pointing to the second bedroom.

”You can sleep in there. The bedding’s in the closet; you can make it up yourself in a bit. I’ll get you something to eat later.”

With that, he grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of a running shower could be heard.

Yu Xian had visited his cousin’s place a few times before. While it had never been immaculate, it had always been clean. It seemed he really had been too busy to tidy up lately.

’Guess I’ll have to ask you to look after me for a bit.’

He recalled his cousin’s words from that afternoon. At the time, he’d thought it was just an excuse, but now it seemed his cousin genuinely needed someone to look after him.

’The ancients said when you accept a task, you must see it through,’ he thought. ’And since I’m already here...’

Yu Xian began to tidy the messy room, gathering all the trash into the wastebasket.

The wall clock ticked and tocked as the messy room was gradually restored to order.

He was almost done; all that was left was the last corner of a desk.

Several thick stacks of case files were piled there, weighed down by a half-empty bottle of coffee.

Whether from the breeze of the door closing or because the stack was simply too high, the topmost file folder was teetering precariously.

It was a yellow manila envelope. The clasp wasn’t fastened, and a few of its contents—several photographs—had slid partially out.

Yu Xian went to put them back on the desk, picking up the black-and-white photos in the dim, yellow light.

It was a crime scene photo, the background a bleak concrete floor.

A girl in a school uniform lay in a pool of blood, her limbs twisted at unnatural angles. She had clearly fallen from a great height.

Because the photo was black and white, the blood appeared as a viscous, deep black, like a spreading inkblot.

Yu Xian was about to put the photo down, but his gaze inadvertently swept across the girl’s face—

His heart skipped a beat. The hairs on his arms stood on end.

The cold chill of the photograph seemed to travel from his fingertips straight to the crown of his head, making his scalp tingle.

She was smiling.

The girl was smiling.

At such a gruesome death scene, on a face smeared with blood and grime, the corners of the girl’s mouth were turned upward in a wide smile.

It wasn’t a smile of relief, nor was it the grin of madness.

It was a standard, symmetrical smile, devoid of any discernible emotion.

The curve of her lips was stiff and precise, yet the muscles at the corners of her eyes showed no movement. Her pupils were dilated and lifeless.

It looked indescribably wrong.

A powerful wave of nausea surged up his throat.

Yu Xian instinctively looked at the other photos in his hand. Different locations: a bathtub, a park bench, a bedroom.

The victims were both men and women, and their causes of death were all different.

But without exception—

every single one of them wore the exact same smile on their dead faces.

”Who said you could touch those?”