Closing the door was a kind of psychological cue to Karon, while the act of locking it was a further reinforcement of that cue.0

It was a dream, or rather, it was a kind of interconnection and construction of his “mental consciousness” that used “dreams” as a vessel. In such a situation, the biggest taboo was to follow the “new scene” forward with complete confusion, wandering along in a daze, just to step right into someone else’s rhythm while ignoring your own autonomy.0

Right after that, Karon turned around and returned to his bedroom, where he saw himself lying on the bed, fast asleep.0

He let out a quiet breath of relief. This meant he and that “old man” were on equal footing. The other party had sent him a request to “have a chat,” and he had chosen to refuse. In the bedroom, seeing his sleeping self lying there was no longer a hint, it was an explicit statement, meaning he had autonomy over this “dream.”0

Karon closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he sat up directly from the bed. Outside the window, there was already a faint light. Morning had come.0

Pu’er was startled awake. Rubbing her eyes with a paw, she commented, “Karon, you’re awake.”0

On his own bed, the golden retriever also stood up. He spread his limbs and began to stretch.0

Karon got out of bed, walked out of the bedroom, and stared at the tightly closed door to his study. The key that he had inserted into the keyhole was now lying on the floor.0

He bent down and picked it up. He put it in the door and opened the study. It was quiet inside, and clean. Karon walked to the desk and found a book set there.0

He picked it up and looked at the cover. The title was Only Light Can Illuminate Your Past. The author's name had been left blank.3

Karon remembered that when he had browsed the study’s bookshelf, he had seen this book, but had chosen to skip it.0

Yesterday, when he last entered the study, the desk had been left empty. Neither Pu’er nor Kevin would...0