Chapter 95: Truth and Illusion 2

Chapter Ninety-Five: Reality and Illusion, Part Two

“Once, Zhuang Zhou dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting about, self-satisfied and following his fancy. He did not know he was Zhuang Zhou. Suddenly he awoke, and there he was, solidly and unmistakably Zhuang Zhou. Did Zhuang Zhou dream he was a butterfly, or did the butterfly dream it was Zhuang Zhou? There must be a distinction between Zhuang Zhou and the butterfly. This is what is meant by the transformation of things.”

“Has the philosophy of mind suddenly leaped from the West back to the East?” Zhang Sanlu joked carelessly, though something in him had been stirred all at once. Zhuangzi had transformed himself in a dream into a vivid butterfly, forgotten that he had once been a man, and only upon waking realized he was still Zhuangzi. Whether it had been Zhuangzi dreaming himself a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming itself Zhuangzi was impossible to tell. Almost every Chinese person had heard this, a philosophical theory of dialectical thought.

Zhang Wei nodded and said, “Don’t you find that terrifying?”

“Terrifying where? Please, enlighten me.”

“Think about it. What if what Zhuang Zhou said was not a theory, but his actual experience?”

“You mean Zhuang Zhou really had that dream?”

“If Zhuang Zhou really dreamed of becoming a butterfly, that’s not frightening at all. But what if Zhuang Zhou wasn’t dreaming, but instead...”

“But instead what? Another world?”

Zhang Wei clapped his hands, excited. “Exactly! You really do think the same way I do!”

“Buddhism and Taoism both speak of the six realms. Among them are the three good realms: gods, humans, and asuras; and the three evil realms: animals, hungry ghosts, and hell beings. Life and death, over and over, ceaseless rebirth. When you close your eyes and dream descends upon you, then open them to find yet another dream, the fear comes from this: once you believe the world before you is truly awake, how can you ever trust that it is not another dream? If the pain of a slit throat, the fullness of a satisfied stomach, the wet heat of interlocked fingers, the pounding heartbeat during an embrace, and the memories of pain, joy, sorrow, and promises can all be doubted, then what are you supposed to do? To forget how one came into this world and how one will leave it behind—perhaps many people have never awakened at all. In the six realms of rebirth, every turn is but a dream.”

Zhang Sanlu frowned. He did not know what Zhang Wei wanted, but he knew the man was after something immense. “What about your friends? Since this is a team, shouldn’t you introduce them to me?”

Zhang Wei was still absorbed in his own theory and blurted out without thinking, “How did you kno... You’re too cunning. I nearly fell into your trap.” He exhaled and shook his head. “You know, I’m actually very sorry.”

Zhang Sanlu thought that the other man’s leaps of thought made him seem more like a patient than anything else.

“You’re the most special one. We don’t want to miss such an opportunity.” Zhang Wei clenched both fists and held them against his chest, as if in prayer. “We’ve observed and searched through more than one hundred thousand samples. Truly, you are the most special.”

Zhang Sanlu snorted with laughter. “So you’re picking one out of a hundred thousand patients, is that it?”

“Wait. In case you suddenly wake up, I prepared something to eat.” Zhang Wei turned and brought out two takeout boxes from another room.

Zhang Sanlu saw the brand printed on them: a chain restaurant.

Zhang Wei looked down at the boxes. “I almost forgot—you’re very smart. You’re already guessing where we are, aren’t you? But it’s useless. I could have brought you here from the city, and we’re not in the urban area at all. Damn it, you got that out of me too.”

“No, I was just looking to see what it was and whether it suited my appetite. I’ve been avoiding organ meats lately.” Zhang Sanlu smiled after delivering a hellish joke only he would understand.

Zhang Wei suddenly burst out laughing. “How interesting. Still, I’m glad you’re being so cooperative.” As he spoke, he cautiously set the takeout boxes on the plastic table and pushed them toward Zhang Sanlu.

Zhang Sanlu opened the boxes and wolfed down a serving of shredded pork in fish fragrance with tomato-and-egg rice. To him, it was truly a delicacy beyond the human world, though he did not drink the soup.

After he finished, Zhang Wei pulled the table back, gathered up the lunch boxes, and took them outside.

During that time, Zhang Sanlu had already imagined several rounds of methods—using the tray, the chair, the chains, and so on—for killing him quickly. When he realized what he was thinking, even he was startled.

Fortunately, Zhang Wei was very cautious and gave him no chance. Zhang Sanlu also took the opportunity to hide the plastic soup spoon inside his hospital gown. That was why he had not drunk the soup; otherwise, using the spoon might have drawn the other man’s attention.

When Zhang Wei returned, he stood across from the bed and looked at Zhang Sanlu from a slight angle.

“Now, I know you dislike this, but if you don’t want to cooperate, what am I supposed to do with you? Would you be willing for me to help you, or rather, to take part in your ‘treatment’?”

Zhang Sanlu said nothing. Time ticked by. Neither of them spoke. Then, after a while, Zhang Sanlu sat up with the clatter of chains, moved to the foot of the hospital bed welded to the floor, and sat at the farthest point his chains would allow, beyond the reach of anything.

A curve appeared at the corner of Zhang Wei’s mouth; he understood the gesture of cooperation. He also dragged over a chair and sat down opposite Zhang Sanlu, about two meters between them.

“A successful treatment requires an environment of comfort and safety. During every session, both patient and psychologist must be able to explore the deeper regions without emotional interference,” Zhang Sanlu said to himself.

“An actual psychotherapy manual?” Zhang Wei nodded, a smile rising on his face. “Of course. I’ve treated many severe cases. We can try to understand it together and find the source. I also promise I won’t hurt you, and that I’ll keep you safe.”

Zhang Sanlu thought to himself, I’ll try as well. Maybe this is actually the better way.

“Then, to show my sincerity, let’s first look at the footage I kept.”

With that, Zhang Wei took a remote control from the pocket of his white coat and pressed several buttons toward the television on the wall at an angle. The screen lit up and began playing surveillance footage from a high angle.

“I don’t yet know what you encountered in your ‘dream,’ but whatever happened to you over there must have been especially dangerous, right?” Zhang Wei said.

At the start of the video, Zhang Sanlu on the screen seemed to be muttering to himself with his head lowered. His voice was not loud, so the camera may not have caught it.

Soon it fast-forwarded to the next clip.

“That’s right. This is the longevity pill that can extend life and help people attain the great path.” Zhang Sanlu shouted loudly. Then he tilted his head back and stuffed something into his mouth. With a swallow, he gulped it down.

Zhang Sanlu gave no reaction, but he remembered the dark red pill that had been taken away.

In the next video, Zhang Sanlu raised the metal spoon in his hand in the cafeteria and shouted, “What a sword, what a sword—gentlemen, if fate allows it, let us meet again!” Before the words had even faded, the end of the spoon had already swept brutally across his own throat.

Because the cut had been made with such force, Zhang Sanlu could almost see, even from the screen, the muscles at his throat suddenly turning outward. Warm blood splattered down before him and onto the floor like rain.

The doctors, nurses, orderlies, and patients around him all went mad, and the entire cafeteria fell into chaos.

At the end of the playback, Zhang Sanlu’s face contorted as he widened his eyes, pressed one hand to his chest, clenched it tight, and shouted through gritted teeth.

“It hurts so much I want to die!!!”

Then Zhang Sanlu jammed something into the position of his heart.

“Gak, gak!” As Zhang Sanlu ground his teeth, the broken bone inserted into his abdomen twisted hard to the left, then was yanked violently outward.

Just like that, his intestines were torn out alive by brute force. One end of the intestines remained attached to Zhang Sanlu’s abdomen, the other hung from that umbilical cord, with the broken bone pierced through the middle, swaying in the air and steaming.

In the final video, Zhang Sanlu’s hand lifted the broken bone wrapped in his own intestines and pressed down with force. The surveillance camera suddenly plunged downward from its high angle, and then turned into black-and-white static.

More than a dozen clips, less than fifteen minutes altogether, but every second was pure essence. Anyone capable of doing those things could be seen as more than merely insane.

Zhang Sanlu watched all the videos in one breath. His head felt a little dizzy. He lay back on the hospital bed, slowly closed his eyes, and tried to recover some strength.

“Sanlu, whatever you’re feeling over there, try to restrain yourself. Especially things like cutting your own throat or disemboweling yourself like before. You nearly died, do you understand? Your intestines were injured too, and it will take a long time to recover.”

But Zhang Wei’s voice seemed to drift away, now near, now distant.