Aftereffects

Song Zhuyu didn't actually like to use this 'father-son' card with Song Juwei unless absolutely necessary. 

Not only because they needed to maintain a strictly professional relationship in the workplace, but also due to the fact that he and the other person were actually not blood-related. 

An unfortunate accident had happened to Song Zhuyu's real parents when he was but a baby, leading him to be put under Song Juwei's care. Coincidentally, Song Juwei had just lost his wife and only son to the curse of an insidious demon he had previously sealed, so he decided to raise Song Zhuyu as his own son. 

It wasn't like their relationship was bad, yet at the same time, it wasn't that intimate either. Song Juwei fulfilled his responsibility as a father and provided Song Zhuyu with everything he needed, but he didn't make any efforts to deepen their bond beyond that. 

He granted Song Zhuyu the freedom of choosing whatever he wanted to do. But alas, despite the passing years, Song Zhuyu still couldn't decide whether the older man fully trusted him not to go down the wrong path, or he simply never cared too much to begin with. 

When Song Zhuyu expressed his desire to become an exorcist a few years ago, Song Juwei didn't give any special reaction. He neither showed happiness nor disapproval. However, he did begin to take Song Zhuyu on his missions across the city, allowing him to gain valuable hands-on experience. 

And thus they maintained this civil relationship— closer than strangers, yet not quite family. 

For Song Zhuyu, the older man was more of a benefactor and a mentor than a father. 

Yet this time, he made a special exception, deliberately calling out the other person 'Dad', because he simply couldn't wrap his head around the current situation! He knew himself very well; it was impossible for him to suffer from hallucination thanks to the spirit artifact he was holding onto. However, how could he explain what had just happened?

Collapsing on his chair, Song Juwei massaged his aching temple with an exhausted expression, "Don't call me that. Just speak, what do you want?"

Song Zhuyu immediately struck while the iron was hot and blurted out his intention, "Let me view the surveillance footage. You're the only one who has access to it, so please… I need some evidence to support my claims!"

"And then?" Song Juwei asked, raising a skeptical brow. "What will you do if the evidence is against you?"

"Then…" Song Zhuyu's throat rolled as he forced himself to say, "I will admit that I'm wrong." Although it's impossible, he added inwardly. 

With a sigh full of resignation, Song Juwei waved his hand and slightly rolled back his chair, causing Song Zhuyu's eyes to brighten with hope. He hurriedly moved in front of the computer and pulled up the surveillance footage— first, from the monitor room around the time of the accident.

Song Zhuyu recalled that he had left the resting lounge when it was nearly one AM and found the monitor room empty upon arrival. Thus, he reviewed the footage starting from midnight and played it at four times the speed. 

On the screen, three technicians were seen inside the monitor room, playing cards.

Song Zhuyu focused his gaze on the screen, unwilling to miss even the slightest detail. His entire body was tense, and even his breathing grew a little erratic as the timestamp approached the critical moment.

However, just like Madam Yang had stated, the three technicians had never left the monitor room.

Song Zhuyu began to sweat. He could feel Song Juwei's eyes on his back, sharp and penetrating, but he willed himself to ignore them for now. 

Impossible, he whispered in his heart. How can this be?

Unreconciled, he continued to sift through the footage from the resting lounge, starting from the evening when he parted ways with Fang Jia. He watched himself enter the lounge to take a nap, and then fast forward—

At 00.54 AM, he exited the lounge, walked down the hallway, but… he never made it to the monitor room.

Instead, he stood in the middle of a desolate hallway, staring out of the window for a full ten minutes. After that, as if he had received some kind of stimulation, he abruptly lunged toward the nearest emergency box and smashed the red button, triggering the alarm in the whole building. 

Song Zhuyu gaped as he stared at the unfamiliar figure on the screen, shock and incredulity coursing through him like a bolt of lightning. 

That person… was him? 

But he didn't remember ever doing this series of actions…

Behind him, Song Juwei rose to his feet, approached him and patted him on the shoulder. It was a light pat, yet Song Zhuyu still flinched as if he had been scalded, snapping out of his stupor. 

The older man paused before withdrawing his hand, sighing heavily, "It's not like I don't believe your words, son, but you know Old Fu's latest invention. They can't be affected by dark energy. Data and hard evidence can't lie, but a human mind can still be manipulated, no matter how foolproof the shield is."

Song Zhuyu's pupils shook, betraying the turmoil within him.

With every piece of evidence confirming his misjudgment, he had no choice but to admit that… he was wrong, that everything that happened tonight was nothing but aftereffects of crossing over and a mere product of his imagination. 

Presumably taking pity on him, Song Juwei's tone softened ever so slightly, "Go back and have a good rest. You know there's a reason why the rule forbids us to cross over more than twice a month, young man."

With much difficulty, Song Zhuyu forced the corner of his lips up, twisting it into a semblance of a smile. "...I understand," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Then please excuse me, Chief."

Exiting the office, he drifted down the hallway with light and floaty steps as if he was walking through a dream, his mind full of turmoil yet at the same time strangely empty. He had no idea what to think… or feel, since this was the first time he'd ever experienced hallucination since his first crossing five years ago.

Was it supposed to feel so vivid, so unsettlingly real, to the point where one couldn't seem to differentiate it from reality? 

Unbeknownst to him, his feet carried him along a familiar path until he stopped at a certain juncture, gazing at the window before him— it was the same window 'Song Zhuyu' had stood in the surveillance footage, lost in trance for a full ten minutes. 

His gaze wordlessly shifted to the emergency box on the side, with its glass cover shattered. Apparently, he was the one who had smashed it broken, but…

Raising his hands, he examined them closely.

He neither felt any pain nor was there the slightest injuries there. The skin remained fair and smooth, with no red patches or abrasions whatsoever to prove the violent acts he had done. 

Furrowing his brows, Song Zhuyu tentatively took his first step forward, then another and another until he stood in the same position as the 'Song Zhuyu' in the surveillance footage. He stared outside the window, yet he could see nothing aside from the familiar parking lot, the row of trees lining the paths, and the desolate street with only one or two cars idly driving past. The sky was pitch black with no visible stars, and he could only see his own reflection staring back at him from the glass window. 

Maintaining eye contact with his own reflection, he sank into deep thoughts. 

What were you staring at during those ten minutes, Song Zhuyu? 

Were you simply daydreaming or…

Those questions swirled in his mind, yet no one could provide him with an answer.