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Bonus chapter! Thank you to Somebody for the donation! ^^
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The student who knew he was afraid of snakes glanced at him and spoke quietly, "But you're scared of snakes. You even fell down once because a snake startled you."
"And besides, snakes and insects aren't really that different."
These words made everyone on the bus turn to look. The male student who had spoken first said coldly,
"Some of the insects chasing us just now looked almost exactly like snakes."
"No, it's not the same!" The accused student was on the verge of tears, but he couldn't defend himself. He could only look pleadingly at the others. "It wasn't me, really it wasn't."
"Snakes and insects are completely different. What I'm afraid of really isn't insects."
But once suspicion arises, the accusation is practically confirmed. No matter how desperately he tried to explain, the doubtful stares directed at him only multiplied.
The student finally broke down, hugging his head as he crouched on the floor.
Ruan Qing remembered this student. When he had been climbing onto the train roof earlier, this student had tried to reach back and pull him up. Only after seeing Ruan Qing climb up on his own did the student continue running ahead.
Ruan Qing stood up and slowly walked over to the distraught student. He extended his hand toward him and spoke gently, "Classmate, try to calm down first."
"I believe it wasn't you."
Ruan Qing's gentleness was pure and unadulterated, the kind that could soothe all fear and unease.
As he spoke, he gave the student a soft smile—one completely devoid of any hostility, making him instinctively approachable.
In this world gone mad, he seemed like the only warmth left, the only salvation.
The student had been completely broken, but when Ruan Qing stood before him, his expression went blank for a moment, and he grew quiet.
The others in the train car were similarly affected, staring at Ruan Qing as if unable to snap out of it, their fear momentarily forgotten.
The student, being closest to Ruan Qing, felt that gentleness most keenly. He stared blankly at the slender, beautiful hand extended toward him, then shakily reached out his own—only to flinch back when he saw how filthy his hand was, as if ashamed.
Everyone understood it wasn't shame, but fear of dirtying the other—a feeling akin to blasphemy against something divine.
When the boy smiled, he resembled a benevolent deity, as though capable of soothing all negativity and inspiring unconditional trust.
Seeing this, Ruan Qing didn't press further. He turned to the other students and spoke in the same reassuring tone,
"Everyone, please calm down as well."
“The person having the nightmare might not even be in this carriage. If we start suspecting everyone randomly, we’ll only end up hurting innocent people.”
Most of the students calmed down, clearly taking Ruan Qing’s words to heart. The more dangerous the situation, the more important it was not to panic.
But not everyone listened. Like the bespectacled male student nearby.
Trembling, he turned to Ruan Qing, his voice full of fear and unease. “I think… you’re the one having the nightmare, aren’t you?”
“You were the one who first suggested going to the front of the train.”
His words plunged the carriage into dead silence. Every pair of eyes fixed on him.
The bespectacled student shrank back under their stares but clenched his teeth and pressed on. “How else would he know that other student wasn’t the one? Maybe it’s because he’s the one who’s really having the nightmare.”
Most people would react with panic or fear when accused, but Ruan Qing didn’t. He simply looked at the boy calmly, his tone steady.
“It’s not me.”
The bespectacled student glared at him and demanded, “If you’re not the one having the nightmare, why did you speak up? Why did you say we’d hurt innocent people?”
The more he spoke, the more convinced he became. “Only the real culprit would know how it feels to be falsely accused.”
“You have to be the one.”
The carriage fell silent again. Then, after a few seconds, objections rose.
A girl by the window spoke softly, “He already said it wasn’t him, so it’s not him.”
Her words broke the tension, and others quickly joined in.
“I don’t think it’s him either. I believe him.”
“It can’t be him—he denied it, didn’t he?”
The bespectacled student: “???”
What? You just believe him because he said so?
He wanted to shake them all by the shoulders and ask if they’d left their brains at home today.
But he could only suppress his frustration and rage. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “But… I saw him push that injured student off the train with my own eyes.”
As his words faded, the carriage plunged into silence once more—so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"Could it be that you saw it wrong? Maybe... maybe the male student just didn't hold on tight enough..." The girl by the window sounded guilty, clearly not convinced by her own words.
But the student next to her was different—his tone was firm. "It must be that he didn’t hold on properly. It’s normal to go weak with fear, especially since his foot was injured."
"Or maybe there was something wrong with that male student. Some people deserve to be pushed."
Another student nodded. "I think so too. That guy didn’t look like a good person to begin with."
Their conversation had clearly twisted their morals, yet not a single person in the room objected.
They knew it was wrong to think this way, but they couldn’t help it—if the boy really had pushed someone, there must have been a reason for it.
The bespectacled male student was unwilling to let it go. He wanted to say something, but someone beat him to it.
"You don’t seem like a good person either. Maybe you’re the one who had that nightmare?"
The comment drew everyone’s attention. All eyes in the train car turned to the bespectacled boy, their gazes full of hostility and suspicion.
"No wonder he’s been steering the conversation—he’s the one behind it," a student muttered under their breath.
"I think so too. He’s probably trying to frame someone else to divert attention."
"Even if he’s not, he’s definitely no good."
The bespectacled male student: "...?"
...
Someone was forced off the train. But the bespectacled boy never imagined that the one being kicked out would be himself.
And not a single person spoke up for him.
The boy turned back, staring at the tightly shut doors, his face filled with utter confusion.
So much so that it was almost heartbreaking to see.
The live-stream audience, however, had no mercy—they burst out laughing.
[Pfft—HAHAHA! Oh my god, his expression is killing me! Didn’t see that coming, huh? You can’t mess with our wife like that.]
[Male student: This… this wasn’t how it was supposed to go! Weren’t they supposed to turn on him and kick him out? How did I end up being the one thrown off?!]
[Honestly, his plan was flawless. Too bad it doesn’t work on our wife. Everyone adores him—I’m so far gone I’d consider dying with him a privilege.]
In fact, that was indeed the case.
The people on the train weren’t entirely unconvinced that the young man had merely had a nightmare, yet no one suggested kicking him off.
After all, once you entered this nightmare, there was no escaping it. Sooner or later, they would all die in this world of horrors.
Since death was inevitable, dying alongside this person didn’t seem… all that unacceptable.
