Initially suspecting a mental disorder, Gao Muyang had Ye Tianzong conduct comprehensive cognitive, psychiatric, and psychological evaluations on her. The results came back entirely normal—in fact, her scores significantly surpassed the average for her age group.
With this suspicion ruled out, Gao Muyang wondered if she had ingested some hallucinogenic substance causing her extraordinary abilities.
First, he had an expert test her blood alcohol level – negative; she hadn't touched a drop. Next, he requested forensic examiner Yao from the police lab to conduct blood and urine toxicology screens. Again, the results were clean: no trace of narcotics, pharmaceuticals,
or even accidental poisoning from toxic mushrooms or licking toads. Everything fell well within normal negative ranges.
Left with no other options, Gao Muyang deployed the ultimate weapon: the polygraph. Pulling out the interrogation transcript, he fired questions based on Chu Lingyun's account. She answered fluently and coherently, passing the test with flying colors.
This wasn't just any lie detector; it boasted over 95% accuracy. Passing this, combined with the previous cross-verification, essentially confirmed that Chu Lingyun was telling the absolute truth. It was undeniable proof that the world truly held inexplicable wonders.
Not just Gao Muyang, but everyone present felt their entire worldview undergo a violent seismic shift, shattering into rubble, desperately needing reconstruction.
Yet Gao Muyang still couldn't accept it. The sheer strangeness of it all was too bizarre, too counter-intuitive. He knew that even if he tried to explain it, no one could grasp it immediately; ample time for digestion was needed.
Faced with this overwhelming deluge of information, he felt his own brain stalling.Acting almost on instinct, he decided to test Chu Lingyun one more time. He abruptly cupped her face, turning it towards him, his expression deadly serious as he stared straight into her eyes:
"Look at me. Do you see a dog, a toad, or a duck?"
Gao Muyang wasn't asking this because he'd lost his mind. He recalled news reports: people poisoned by toxic mushrooms often hallucinated medical personnel as animals, leading to bizarre scenes like *dogs performing CPR* or *toads carrying stretchers*. Chasing these "animals" away could tragically delay life-saving treatment...
Hearing such a bizarre question, Chu Lingyun stared blankly for a second before retorting with utter disdain, "You're the one who needs a shrink!"
The surrounding onlookers burst into laughter. "Yo, Yang-ge! Did you take crazy pills or just go mad interrogating suspects? Hahaha!"
Gao Muyang lowered his head, flushed with embarrassment and confusion. He realized his impulsive question *was* incredibly stupid, reminiscent of a certain Chinese myth:
Only a *huang pizi* (yellow weasel) would go around asking people if it looked human or divine. And he? He was undeniably, unequivocally human! Why even ask?
*(Huang Pizi Tao Feng: A myth popular in Northern China. The yellow weasel, seeking to become immortal, would stop travelers by the roadside and speak human words, asking if it looked like a person or a god. If the traveler answered, their luck and lifespan would supposedly transfer to the weasel, aiding its cultivation.)*
Gao Muyang's face burned crimson. He felt intensely awkward. But it didn't matter – he was about to redeem himself moments later. Piecing together the verified information, several leads became clear as he rapidly processed the data in his mind.
First, Chu Lingyun's account was credible. Therefore, the basic fire scene scenario could be deduced: **The fire had originated in the young man's room on the east side, and the cause likely lay with him. The ignition point was almost certainly confined to that single room.**
According to Lingyun's dream, the young man (who resembled Edison Chen) had woken up startled, then struggled to fight the fire and call for help. This pointed strongly towards an **accidental fire**. Once the cause was determined, the case could essentially be closed.
Thinking this, he urgently contacted the fire department to see if any key evidence had surfaced to pinpoint the ignition cause. The answer, however, was negative: the cause remained undetermined.
The only certainty was the **origin point: the east room**. It was the most severely damaged, almost completely ravaged beyond recognition. Consequently, much potential evidence had been **reduced to ashes**, significantly complicating the investigation.
Just as everyone was scrambling, a bolt of insight struck Gao Muyang. He turned to Chu Lingyun, eyes suddenly lit up. "Wait! I remember! When you described the dream, didn't you say the east room was a live-work space?"
Lingyun blinked, confused. "Yeah? What about it?"
Gao Muyang's eyes gleamed. "You said it looked like an art studio – canvases, frames, oil paintings piled everywhere? And he slept on a small bed right there, right?"
Lingyun looked utterly bewildered. "Yes, yes! You've asked a million times! All I saw in the dream was this chaotic art studio, a handsome guy, waking up suddenly…"
"Exactly! Precisely *because* it was chaotic!" Gao Muyang pressed. "Think carefully. What *exactly* was piled up in that room?"
Obediently, Lingyun closed her eyes and recalled, counting off items on her fingers: "Hmm… paintings. Oil paintings, sketches, gouache, watercolors. All kinds of art supplies: paper, pencils, paints, canvases, frames, brushes, solvents…"
She paused at **"solvents."** Her head snapped up, meeting Gao Muyang's intense gaze. In that instant, she understood. She grasped exactly what he was implying:
Paintings are made of paper and pigment. Oil paintings are created with flammable solvents. **The entire room was a cacophony of fire hazards.** Why search for an external ignition source? And while the guy was handsome, his living habits were clearly poor:
She remembered seeing **random personal items, scented candles, beer bottles knocked over haphazardly**, and he almost certainly **smoked** – evidenced by cigarette butts and ashtrays scattered around…
*Any* of these could be the ignition point. A single stray spark could easily ignite the inferno that ultimately claimed his life. So, Gao Muyang was right. The problem undeniably stemmed from the handsome guy in the east room. He was almost certainly the tragic architect of his own fiery demise.
With this realization, Lingyun suddenly felt a wave of gloom. *What a waste... a perfectly handsome guy, looking so utterly defeated. To lose his young life over carelessness, dragging all those elderly and children down with him... it's just tragically unfair.*
The picture was clear enough, but a critical question remained: **Where was the evidence to prove the firestarter was someone else?** Silence fell over the group, broken only when Gao Muyang smacked his own forehead, struck by sudden inspiration.
"The evidence is staring us right in the face!" he declared, then jerked his chin pointedly towards Chu Lingyun.
Lingyun blinked, pointing at herself incredulously. "Me? Again?"
"Yes, exactly!" Gao Muyang confirmed. "If you could just dream a little more detail, what evidence *wouldn't* we find? With your dreams as our guide, pinpointing clues would be effortless!"
Lingyun was momentarily speechless, then indignation flared. "Y-you! That nightmare scared me half to death *once*! And you expect me to do it *again*? Hmph! You do it! I'm done!"
Her words tumbled out like rapid gunfire: "I was just helping out! Not signing up to work like a packhorse for you! Haven't you pushed me around enough? And after wrongly accusing me and putting me through all that misery! I was being *magnanimous* by not holding it against you!"
Gao Muyang sensed the tension spiking but floundered. A results-driven straight guy through and through, he was hopeless at sweet-talking or soothing ruffled feelings. He instinctively overlooked the emotional toll.
Nearby, Gezi (Gazi) stifled a laugh, quickly stepping in to smooth things over for his buddy. He turned to Lingyun with an ingratiating smile:
"Our fault! Totally our bad! Please, little Goddess, our little Fairy Queen? Just this *one* last time? We swear we'll be eternally grateful! When the commendations roll in, your contribution will be front and center!"
Gezi was slick, a master of flattery with sharper ambition than Muyang. Talk of "commendations" and "contributions" rolled easily off his tongue.
With Lingyun's uncannily accurate information source, he had no intention of letting her go. Sticking close to her was like a **mouse falling into a rice bin** – case clearance rates would skyrocket, promotions and bonuses practically guaranteed!
"Besides,"he added smoothly, laying on the guilt trip, "I *know* you have a saintly compassion. You wouldn't abandon all those lost souls, would you?"
*Wow, emotional blackmail now,* Lingyun thought bitterly. This guy who'd just called her **"Spud"** was now showering her with sugary titles. She despised his oily, two-faced sycophancy – always angling for advantage, blowing with the wind.
Yet, a part of her agreed: knowing the full truth *would* bring closure and save her future hassle. *Fine,* she resigned herself. *One last time.*
Under Gao Muyang's earnest gaze, she agreed to plunge once more into the enigmatic dreamscape, seeking its hidden truths.
But fate loves a twist. Just as everything seemed set, **Lingyun found she couldn't sleep.** Not a wink.
Of course not! Between the ocean of coffee she'd consumed, the day's extreme stress, the less-than-tranquil cafe setting, and the pressure of an audience, sleep was impossible.
Gao Muyang checked the time. It *was* well past shift end. He decisively dismissed his team, sending them home to rest for tomorrow's efforts.
He stayed behind with Ye Tianzong. Their new plan: relocate to Ye Tianzong's clinic for a **professional hypnosis session.**
The moment Lingyun heard this, her world crumbled. Utterly drained and emotionally battered, a silent scream echoed in her heart: **Heavens above! Earth below! Why me?! Can't you just let me go?!**