Dark Memories

If you ask what fears plagued Lu Lingyue during his college days, the list was long.

He dreaded waking up early for class, feared exams, dreaded having the teacher call on him during lectures—and, well, even worried about the girl he fancied falling for someone else… Scratch that last one, though;

like a resplendent peony in full bloom, Lu Lingyue had never once experienced romantic feelings.

But if there was one thing he feared above all, it was humans.

Since childhood, Lu Lingyue had suffered from severe social anxiety.

Interacting with others—regardless of their age or gender—filled him with dread, with women being especially intimidating.

Today marked his first time stepping out in cosplay for a photo shoot, and he'd attracted a curious crowd.

Among the onlookers were laughing, chattering children accompanied by their parents, and a few teenagers whispering among themselves.

Overwhelmed, Lu Lingyue's anxiety flared up all over again.

Humans… they were just too terrifying!

In truth, his social phobia had its roots in the bullying he endured during middle school.

Unlike some victims who were beaten by gangs, Lu Lingyue was subjected daily to a torrent of verbal abuse by a group of boys.

They mocked him for never leaving home and labeled him a freak—insinuating that he was an orphan.

Soon, their jeers escalated into outrageous rumors: some claimed, "Lu Lingyue killed his own parents," while others whispered, "He's always bringing girls home just to harass them."

At first, Lu Lingyue was oblivious to these circulating tales.

It wasn't until one fateful dinner—when his sister, Lu Xiaoxue, accidentally knocked a bowl off the table, compelling him to confront the nonsense—that he realized the truth.

That's when he learned those boys had been spreading lies and verbally tormenting him.

He did try to stand up for himself, but in the end, one man's strength was no match for a barrage of fists.

Bruised and battered, Lu Lingyue could only limp home.

All Lu Xiaoxue did upon seeing him was click her tongue before firmly shutting the door.

Just when he thought things would continue to sour, three days later, to his utter astonishment, the very boys who had bullied him rushed over to apologize one afternoon.

"We're sorry," the worst offender said, scratching the back of his head with an air of feigned innocence, "we were only fooling around. We never meant to hurt you."

One by one, the others offered their half-hearted apologies.

But Lu Lingyue couldn't forgive them.

For a middle schooler, the sting of words can be as cutting as a razor's edge.

"Hey, why are you so full of yourself? If it weren't for your sister Lu Xiaoxue, we wouldn't have bothered coming to apologize in the first place!"

the ringleader snapped as he noticed Lu Lingyue turning to leave.

"Lu Xiaoxue?" he muttered, as if surprised that his seemingly indifferent sister had actually been backing him up.

"Hey, did you hear that?!" one of his cronies chimed in. "Forget it—just for Xiaoxue's sake, we won't hold it against you," the leader added before he and his lackeys walked away.

Watching their retreating backs, Lu Lingyue longed to confront them and demand an explanation.

Yet when he returned home that day, Lu Xiaoxue nonchalantly remarked, "They won't be seen at school tomorrow." Anxiously, he pressed, "Why?"

That was the first smile Lu Xiaoxue had shown him in all their years together.

Her pink lips curved ever so slightly as she replied, "Because… I killed them."

After uttering those chilling words, she turned and walked back to her room, leaving Lu Lingyue standing there, stunned under the silent glow of the moon.

Was she really telling the truth? Could she have actually killed those boys?

It seemed impossible—after all, they were nearly twice her size!

How could she, on her own, have taken them all down?

For days, Lu Lingyue agonized over the mystery, never understanding why those bullies had suddenly vanished from school.

And whenever he inquired about them, Lu Xiaoxue's answers always skirted around the truth.

"Well, as long as they're gone, that's all that matters," was her usual reply.

"Then why did you help me?" Lu Lingyue demanded.

They hadn't been close before—she had no obligation to stand up for him.

With a cool detachment, she answered, "Because I hate men." 

Under the dark night, Lu Xiaoxue's blue eyes shimmered with an uncanny light, and a near-maniacal smile spread across her face. "Especially those worthless, degenerate men."

While Lu Lingyue stood in the shadows away from the moonlight, Lu Xiaoxue basked in its gentle glow, exuding a bewitching allure.

It was the first—and only—time Lu Lingyue had ever witnessed such a terrifying side of her.

From that moment on, he regarded her as truly fearsome—capable of even murder!

After those bullies disappeared, Lu Lingyue's life gradually returned to its usual calm, and Lu Xiaoxue never again showed any peculiar behavior.

Over time, he began to bury those painful memories, forgetting about the boys who had tormented him. Yet while one can choose to forget, the body's instinctive reactions remain.

Lu Lingyue was left with lasting trauma—a crippling social anxiety.

At school, he deliberately kept a low profile, rarely left home, and avoided crowded places.

Whenever he was surrounded by people, his body would involuntarily begin trembling, and the echoes of those brutal insults—"You're a monster!," "No wonder your parents don't want you!," "Your parents never went overseas—they just didn't want to live with someone like you!," "Have you heard? Lu Lingyue is always up to no good with girls at home…"—would reverberate in his mind until he felt utterly paralyzed, sometimes nearly fainting.

Even now, after spending the entire summer at home, today Lu Lingyue had stepped out twice.

And amid the ceaseless chattering of onlookers, his social anxiety flared up once more.

"Hey, little loli, what's wrong with you?" 

Jie Shuangning, who'd been busy adjusting his camera angles, quickly stopped and rushed over to check on him.

In that moment, Lu Lingyue could only feel the relentless barrage of insults echoing in his mind, robbing him of any ability to think—as if he were trapped in a quagmire with no escape.