2333 watched as Wen Qianshu finished breakfast, put down her bowl, and started setting the robot’s program to prepare lunch.
2333: “Is your stomach a bottomless pit?”
Second Brother Wen also hesitated for a moment. “Shouldn’t you wait a bit before eating? You’ll be too full, won’t you?”
“No need, I’ll just eat a little.” Wen Qianshu kept her eyes on the robot, her hands never stopping, and smiled. “I want to go check out the school early, and it’s almost lunchtime anyway.”
The time allotted was too short. Even with its myriad skills, the robot could do nothing but make her a bowl of scallion noodles with a fried egg.
Wen Qianshu lowered her head to eat the noodles. Second Brother Wen was still worried and told her some more of the school’s rules.
Wen Qianshu nodded as she ate, listening to him say in a low voice, “If anyone bullies you, go find Qianhua. She’s a good fighter and will definitely stand up for you.”
“But don’t tell her directly, just hint at it.” Second Brother Wen thought for a moment and added, “But it’s better to fight less. When you get to school, you should keep an eye on her too.”
Wen Qianshu swallowed the noodles in her mouth and smiled. “Will she listen to me?”
“Of course.” Second Brother Wen said seriously, “Don’t be fooled by how that silly girl is always fuming. She’s listened to you since she was little.”
Wen Qianshu agreed.
After finishing her noodles, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and asked playfully, “Your Excellency Second Brother, are there any other orders?”
Second Brother Wen chuckled and said, “Remember to water the flowers on the windowsill. The sun has been strong lately, and I think they’re about to wither.”
Wen Qianshu: “Okay.”
She stood up. “I’m going to pack my things, then go check out the school.”
Second Brother Wen: “Call me when you get there.”
Wen Qianshu: “Mhm.”
Wen Qianshu took the stairs two or three at a time and entered her room.
She leaned over, knelt on one knee on the bed, pulled out an electronic notebook from under the pillow, and copied the data to her phone. Then she stood up, looking at her phone while dragging a pot of flowers back.
2333: “Did you discover something?”
Wen Qianshu: “I have a theory.”
She skipped past a series of “domestic violence” and “school bullying” cases, jumping to several categories like “death of a close relative” where the body wouldn’t be physically harmed.
Sure enough, they were all marked with a few keywords: “irritable,” “brawling.”
The curtains were wide open. Sunlight pierced through the glass, illuminating half of Wen Qianshu’s turned face and her lowered eyelashes, casting a dark shadow.
She chuckled softly. “Not hidden well enough.”
With that, Wen Qianshu turned, kicked off her slippers, and slipped into her sneakers. “Let’s go. We’re going to meet this mastermind.”
2333: “What? What do you mean?”
“I thought it was strange before. If these people were recent victims of information overload attacks, with so many cases, shouldn’t it have been discovered by now?”
Wen Qianshu went downstairs, said goodbye to Second Brother Wen, and continued explaining to 2333 in her mind, “Wen Tianqi reminded me. It’s very likely that Wen Qianhua’s mental domain was altered shortly after ‘Wen Qianshu’s’ accident, yet she hasn’t lost control even now.”
“So, it’s possible that these other victims’ mental domains were also affected a long time ago.”
“Wen Qianhua has never seen a doctor either,” Wen Qianshu said. “This means the person behind this must have bypassed the hospitals.”
Wen Qianshu: “Besides hospitals, what other place could influence so many people from different families with different experiences over a long and covert period?”
“School.”
Wen Qianshu bought a ticket and boarded the shuttle. On the way, she called the school to make an appointment and started texting Mu Lian some questions—questions about mental soothing performed by doctors.
Mu Lian didn’t ask why she was interested in this, simply explaining point by point, “Yes, if you go to a hospital for mental soothing, there’s usually a record, and the hospital will conduct random checks.”
Wen Qianshu’s fingers paused. “Then—”
Countless voices echoed in her ears, and countless pieces of information surfaced.
“Wen Qianhua is always fighting—”
“She wasn’t like this before. She used to be bullied at school and never fought back—”
“Domestic violence—”
“Brawling—”
“Physical injury—”
“I lied to the teacher, said I wasn’t feeling well, and went to the infirmary—”
Wen Qianshu continued typing, “What about the school doctor?”
“Do they check the school doctors?”
2333 was dumbfounded.
Mu Lian: “School doctor? The school doctor at a Sentinel-Guide academy?”
Wen Qianshu: “Yes. Do they need to be certified for soothing?”
Mu Lian: “They are indeed required to hold a soothing certificate, but it’s rarely used, and they don’t really check.”
The school doctor’s soothing certificate is to ensure they can provide first aid if a Sentinel student’s mental body has an issue, but such situations are rare. Moreover, most Sentinel students have Guide parents at home to help with mental soothing. Even if their parents died early, the state would register them, and specialized welfare agencies would be responsible.
The school doctor mostly deals with physical injuries, things like fevers and colds.
Wen Qianshu lowered her eyes and said to 2333, “2333, check it.”
As soon as Wen Qianshu mentioned it, 2333 had already hacked into the student registration system, retrieved the records of these Sentinels with hypersensitivity syndrome, and read the information about the schools they attended and their corresponding school doctors.
Photos flashed across the screen one by one.
Among them, one ID photo appeared behind every single person.
The ID photo showed a kind-faced female doctor, elderly, with frost-white hair. She had deep nasolabial folds, but her smile was gentle and polite, almost amiable.
2333 checked her file. “Song Huan. She’s moved between several schools—”
Wen Qianshu: “What about now? No, which school was she at when ‘Wen Qianshu’ had her accident?”
2333: “Wen Qianhua’s school. She’s still there now.”
The shuttle was about to arrive at the station.
Wen Qianshu let out an imperceptible sigh of relief and lowered her head to type a thank you to Mu Lian. But just as she was about to send it, a news notification popped up at the top of her phone—”Sentinel attacks partner, click for details…”
Wen Qianshu froze.
She quickly clicked on it and saw it was about the Sentinel who had lost control and attacked Wen Qianshu earlier. Her partner had insisted on seeing her, and as a result, she had suddenly attacked them right under the police’s noses.
Wen Qianshu: “This is bad.”
She immediately stood up and moved to the shuttle door.
It was the lunch break at school, and someone was chatting idly, “My god, a Sentinel like that can still have a Guide?”
“Huh? She’s attacked people before. But you have to admit, that Guide’s move to flip over the chair was so agile—why are you grabbing my phone?”
Wen Qianhua propped herself up on the desk with one hand, her brows furrowed and lips pressed tightly together. The fingers of her other hand swiped across the news.
A Sentinel out of control, a Guide’s blood—
The sunlight was a bit dazzling.
Her pupils contracted, as if she were seeing through the words to the tragic scene from years ago.
Blood all over the ground, a roaring Sentinel, her sister lying motionless on the floor.
A churning mental body, dissipating mist.
The crowd holding her back, not letting her get close.
She couldn’t tell if the voices were from reality or her memories.
“Are you okay? You look so pale—”
“Wen Qianhua—”
Wen Qianhua: “I’m fine. I just feel a little unwell—”
She put down her classmate’s phone. “I’m going to the infirmary.”
Mu Danqing, sitting behind her, frowned. “Do you need help?”
“No!” Wen Qianhua said coldly. “Don’t come near me!”
“None of you come near me.”
Going to the infirmary will make it better—
The pain will stop—
Wen Qianhua felt a cold sweat break out all over her body. She pressed her lips together and realized her head was starting to hurt, a severe pain.
Her heart throbbed, and the pain spread down her arms.
Her surroundings seemed to be separated by a layer of fog that she couldn’t penetrate.
Outside the fog, her sister seemed to be standing there, watching her silently.
Stop looking at me, I’m begging you—
Stop looking at me—
Her phone started ringing, one ring after another.
It seemed to be interspersed with the sound of an ambulance.
The little leopard cat paced frantically at her feet.
So annoying, so annoying—
Leave me alone.
In a daze, Wen Qianhua felt something was wrong with her. She tried to sort out her emotions, but she felt like she couldn’t breathe, as if an invisible hand was squeezing her neck, making her dizzy and faint.
Wen Qianshu got off the shuttle and found she couldn’t get through to Wen Qianhua’s phone.
A piercing alarm suddenly blared in her ear, an electronic voice saying, “Warning, warning, the world line is beginning to collapse—”
Wen Qianshu: “…”
2333: “…”
2333: “What did I tell you? I told you not to jinx it!”
Wen Qianshu: “You never said that!”
Wen Qianshu broke into a run, sprinting towards the school while sending a message to Mu Lian, briefly explaining the situation and asking her to call the police.
2333: “Can’t you call them yourself?”
Wen Qianshu: “If I call them myself, I’ll lose more time. If the police get there before me, will I even be able to get to Wen Qianhua?”
2333: “Then you can tell them the truth and let them—”
Wen Qianshu: “What truth? It’s all just my speculation.”
“How would a normal person think a Guide could get ‘Sentinel Hypersensitivity Syndrome’? The name itself sounds wrong!”
2333: “?”
So you finally admit you’re the one who’s not right?
The more 2333 thought about it, the more it felt wrong. “Are you confident you can save her then?”
Wen Qianshu: “I’ll try. I can only guess right now.”
The alarm grew more and more piercing. Wen Qianshu was exasperated. “Seriously—the time you guys give in this world line is way too short, isn’t it?”
2333: “Watch the road! There’s a car ahead!”
Wen Qianhua held onto the handrail as she descended the stairs, gritting her teeth as she made her way to the infirmary floor step by step.
Wen Qianshu dashed across the road and explained to the gatekeeper that she had an appointment, saying her sister might be unwell and she needed to take her to the hospital as soon as possible.
The midday sun grew increasingly glaring, the alarm shrill.
Wind howled through the streets, kicking up a flurry of leaves.
2333 turned on the scanner, searching for Wen Qianhua’s direction.
Seeing how anxious Wen Qianshu was, and that she did indeed have an appointment, the gatekeeper let her in.
Birds took flight in alarm, and insects scurried about.
The people at the school were oblivious, merely finding it strange and discussing it among themselves.
Wen Qianhua finally reached the infirmary door. Just as she was about to push it open, she saw the little leopard cat blocking her way, stopping in front of her.
Wen Qianhua: “Move.”
The little leopard cat hissed, barring the doorway and ramming its body against her leg, trying to push her back.
It couldn’t move Wen Qianhua at all, but it was still very painful.
With a cold expression, Wen Qianhua reached out to grab it, but she heard footsteps behind her—urgent and fast, accompanied by heavy breathing.
Wen Qianhua turned around. “Didn’t I tell you not to follow me—”
Before she could finish, a hand grabbed her shoulder and forcefully pulled her away from the door.
Her sister’s face appeared before her, cutting through the fog. “Wen Qianhua!”
But in an instant, that face overlapped with the one from years ago, with the person lying in a pool of blood.
Wen Qianhua opened her mouth, but Wen Qianshu clamped a hand over it. “It’s not your fault, Wen Qianhua. What happened back then wasn’t your fault—”
“I remember.” Wen Qianhua’s teeth bit into the back of Wen Qianshu’s hand, drawing blood, but Wen Qianshu didn’t care about the pain at all. “I remember—I did it on purpose.”
The sisters in the photo, arms around each other’s shoulders, smearing cake on each other.
The younger sister, dodging, deliberately letting herself lose.
The older sister, watching her with a smile.
“That person was following us, and I felt something was wrong,” Wen Qianshu said. “So I deliberately got separated from you, trying to lead him away.”
“I had already led him away. I was trying to ask passersby for help, but I didn’t expect him to lose control so quickly.”
Wen Qianhua’s eyes widened.
Wen Qianshu said softly, “It’s not your fault. It was never your fault—”
The little leopard cat looked up at them. Wen Qianhua’s eyes were wide open as she listened to Wen Qianshu continue, “I know you never looked down on your sister. I know.”
The alarm sound subsided.
Wen Qianhua looked at her.
We’re sisters—
You’re always helping me, getting angry for me—
Wen Qianshu: “Your sister wants to protect you too.”
“Stop blaming yourself, okay?” Wen Qianshu said. “I’m still alive, standing right here in front of you, perfectly fine. I’m cured, and everything is getting better.”
The alarm sound grew quieter and quieter, gradually stopping.
Tears streamed down Wen Qianhua’s face.
Wen Qianshu didn’t let go, keeping her hand pressed over her mouth.
Wen Qianhua cried silently.
Her tears fell, wetting the back of Wen Qianshu’s hand and mixing with the blood.
The sun was obscured by clouds, and the wind howled.
Second Brother Wen suddenly felt a tightness in his chest and looked up at the windowsill.
The little leopard cat took a step back. A wisp of mist rose from its body, coalescing into a faint human shape behind Wen Qianhua.
Wen Qianshu was stunned, but she saw the misty figure raise a hand, pressing its index finger to its lips.
Her phone rang. Wen Qianshu subconsciously answered it and heard Second Brother Wen’s voice, “Qianshu, you didn’t water the flowers. Can I go into your room to water them?”
The misty figure nodded.
Wen Qianshu: “Okay.”
Second Brother Wen pushed open the door and found that one of the flower pots had been pulled back into the room and placed next to a painting. Spared from the midday sun, the flower was listless but still alive.
As for the other flowers on the windowsill—
The misty figure leaned down, loosely embracing Wen Qianhua from behind, and gradually faded away.
Although its features were indistinct, it somehow gave the impression of a smile and of speaking a word.
The wind carried the final words, blowing them to Wen Qianshu’s ear.
It was a weak, yet very gentle voice.
She said, “Thank you.”
The other flowers on the windowsill.
Had all withered.
