In the café, he recovered his phone, only to find that he had recorded a long audio clip. Earlier, when he slipped the phone into his pocket, the screen was still on the recording interface, and he had inadvertently pressed the record button. It was still recording at that moment!
Quickly ending the recording, the total length of the audio turned out to be an hour and a half. He first sent the recorded audio file to Huang Xiaopang, then, out of curiosity, clicked on the last part of the audio.
There weren't many people in the café in the afternoon, and upon clicking play, it was indeed just white noise. Mysteriously drawn, he dragged the progress bar a bit further back. As he lifted his finger, he vaguely heard a conversation between a man and a woman.
The conversation was hard to make out, so he imported the file into his computer, reduced the noise, amplified it, and put on his Bluetooth headphones...
Just a few sentences in, he was immediately captivated by the conversation's content. He dragged the progress bar back to the beginning, found the moment when the two entered and seated themselves, and started listening from the top.
He Kao's mind gradually immersed into it. Although he didn't dare believe the content of their chat, it didn't hinder his growing interest. People are often attracted to magical things, knowing they're unbelievable but hoping they're true; He Kao was no different.
For instance, after watching an impressive magic show, the most common comments often fall into two categories. The first is unraveling the magic, guessing, and analyzing how the magician did it. "Experts" would even release corresponding reveal tutorials.
This seems to express, "I'm smart, I can see through the trick," or "I can do this too," but subconsciously, it's about preserving existing perceptions to make sense of what they see, attempting to resolve emotional appeals rationally.
If "unraveling magic" were just that, there wouldn't be much to say, but more commonly, there's another type of comment, generally in this form—
If the critic can reveal or thinks they can, they'll describe what they believe is the magic's principle, then criticize it for being fake, warning everyone against being deceived, and such; if they don't understand the principle, they'll just curse, saying, "it's all a setup."
In truth, this is the real absurdity because magic, by its very nature, is a performance that excludes the use of "setups." The magician's clearly identified assistants on stage are not setups; they are performers who share in the magic.
And the objects of the magic performance, like the audience below, including those selected by the magician to participate or validate, cannot conspire with the magician to lie; otherwise, the magic performance fails and becomes meaningless.
Why? Because the premise of a magic act is that participants cannot lie to cooperate. If one turns an apple into an orange, regardless of the method, it must become an orange, or at least appear to be one.
You cannot have an apple remain an apple but force the audience to acknowledge it's an orange, or find a few setups to claim it's an orange.
Zhang San strikes a palm at his spot, and Li Si falls over a hundred and fifty meters away; Li Si is cooperating in Zhang San's lie, then Zhang San declares he has mastered the Hundred-Step Wind-Greeting Palm. That's not magic, just pure trickery.
The difference between magic and trickery lies here: a magician declares from the start that they're performing magic, not showcasing magic. Magic only deceives the audience's eyes but not the audience themselves.
Why do so many people not appreciate the performance itself but are enthusiastic about accusing magicians of cheating? Such accusations are absurd at face value, much like accusing the magician of not being a mage!
In fact, this reflects a subconscious disappointment, which also means a longing: how wonderful it would be if magic were real! People hope for magic to truly exist, giving them a chance of mastering magic themselves.
We can call this the Magician Phenomenon.
Some take advantage of this psychological phenomenon, using magic techniques to display all kinds of so-called "miracles," or even straightforwardly using "Minto," simply lying to achieve their aims, commonly seen among swindlers in the Jianghu, cult leaders, and so on.
But the two speaking in the recording were not performing, nor did they have any need to deceive He Kao, the "listener." Yet, for someone like He Kao, how could he not be intrigued by the Hidden Moth?
If the Hidden Moth truly existed, it would mean the world is more interesting and also imply the possibility of him becoming a Hidden Moth.
He Kao's mindset was mostly like this, listening with a slight cynical smile. But when the two mentioned the "Zhou Du case" from twenty years ago, his expression suddenly changed.
Solemn, sorrowful, shocked, indignant... and the list went on. His face grew paler, his body trembling slightly, fists clenched unconsciously, nails digging into his flesh.
At first, he thought they were just telling an unverifiable absurd story, but now he couldn't help but wonder—is everything they said true? And how could the truth be like this!
**