The woman slowly rose, holding Zhao Hequan by the neck and lifting him up. She brought her face closer, as if examining him intently.

Gradually, black spots began to emerge from Zhao Hequan’s neck, where the woman’s hand was gripping him. They quickly spread across his entire body. Then, these spots progressively expanded and merged, forming large black abscesses, one after another. Each central area bulged, and pus continuously oozed out, sliding down his body and pooling around his feet before dripping onto the ground. Yet, Zhao Hequan showed no sign of pain or struggle; he appeared to be fast asleep.

On the contrary, Li Chuiyuan suddenly felt an ominous premonition. If contact with this woman led to infection and decay, then what about the two pieces of flesh that had fallen on his face earlier…?

His face began to itch. He felt it closely; it was a genuine itch, not just his imagination. But now, no matter how intense the itch, Li Chuiyuan dared not reach out to scratch.

Immediately, the woman lifted Zhao Hequan with only her left hand, holding him horizontally at her side. This created a stark contrast, highlighting her incredibly tall stature. Previously, Li Chuiyuan had been so shocked by the woman’s appearance and direct gaze that he’d overlooked this detail. Now, he noticed her figure strongly resembled a temple deity statue.

Having likely found the person she was looking for, the woman carried Zhao Hequan and walked down towards the dam. She walked steadily, her gaze fixed forward. Then, halfway across, her body continued forward, but her head suddenly rotated ninety degrees, looking his way. Li Chuiyuan’s heart skipped a beat. She was still watching him! The woman continued to advance while observing him, eventually moving out of his sight as she descended the dam.

The itching on his face persisted. Li Chuiyuan lay motionless, his eyelids still slightly ajar. The passage of time felt distorted; he didn’t know how long had passed, but he continued to remain still.

Suddenly, in the lower left corner of his vision, the woman’s raw, churning face abruptly appeared. It was like someone who had already left the room, then remembered something and craned their neck back to look at you, even while their body remained outside. Those two rows of white teeth were the only part that could convey any facial expression. With the white teeth slightly apart, if one were to imagine flesh and features, she appeared to be smiling. It was as if she was saying, “Heh heh, I’m just checking if you’re really asleep.”

However, Li Chuiyuan wasn’t startled this time; he had already anticipated such a maneuver. The persistent chill around him indicated that the woman hadn’t gone far and was still nearby. He could even picture her standing motionless at the base of the dam. Liu Jinxi had said that “unclean things” developed an exceptionally strong interest in those who could see them. Therefore, even if one “saw” it, they had to pretend not to.

Finally, the oppressive atmosphere lifted, the chill dissipated, and the summer night’s warmth returned, along with a refreshing evening breeze. It felt as if he had stepped out of a freezer, a sensation of thawing from body to soul. This, in turn, made his face itch even more. It felt as if scratching his face just a few times right then would be the most satisfying and pleasant thing in the world.

Still, Li Chuiyuan remained motionless. His willpower was strained, and his self-control was on the verge of collapsing, yet he clung to inertia, maintaining his previous sleeping posture and slightly open eyes.

Suddenly, the cold returned, swift, urgent, and intense. It wasn’t that he was dragged back into the freezer; rather, the freezer itself had grown legs, opened its door, and swallowed him whole. Two thuds echoed near his ears, interspersed with the crisp clinking of chains. Just slightly ahead in his line of sight, a pair of legs appeared. At their lowest point were feet still dripping pus. These were Zhao Hequan’s feet; he was currently being held by the woman. This meant the woman was now standing behind him, very close to his head. She was still watching him.

At this moment, Li Chuiyuan found the woman’s persistent resolve incomprehensible. If she was going to repeatedly test him, why didn’t she just lift him up like she did Zhao Hequan? Didn’t she still have a free hand?

Then, Li Chuiyuan suddenly recalled the rumor he’d heard earlier in the day: two students from Haihe University had used hammers to break the chains on the Bodhisattva statue. It must have been Xue Liangliang and Zhao Hequan. But the woman had only picked up Zhao Hequan, not Xue Liangliang. Did this mean the woman could only take one person this time? Suddenly, Li Chuiyuan’s mind became clear. This was a reverse competition between himself and Zhao Hequan. If he showed any weakness, the woman might release Zhao Hequan and take him instead. Her continuous testing was, in fact, a form of deliberation.

Li Chuiyuan would never sacrifice himself to save Zhao Hequan. If forced to choose, he would certainly pick Zhao Hequan to go with the woman. After all, Zhao Hequan’s ideal country was America, and visas were hard to get; the Atlantic Ocean was vast and difficult to cross. Reincarnating there wouldn’t be a bad shortcut. Simple endurance was tough to bear, but once the problem was simplified into a competition, it pulled him back to the arena where he excelled most.

The intense cold came and went quickly; the woman must have left again. But Li Chuiyuan remained fixed in his position. He no longer cared if the dream had ended or if the woman would return. He simply maintained his posture and the degree to which his eyes were half-closed.

His face still itched intensely, forcing him to find another way to distract himself. He began to ponder the algorithms in the eighth volume of *The Esoteric Art of Physiognomy*. Since he was idle and had nothing to do—and certainly dared not do anything—he might as well continue studying. In his mind, rows of human faces continuously appeared and gradually overlapped. Li Chuiyuan could now mentally conjure a face that could be male or female, old or young. Upon closer inspection, everything from the eyebrows, eyes, nose, mouth, to the ears was constantly shifting.

Currently, a sticker game was popular among girls in the capital: a paper printed with a model’s body, accompanied by numerous stickers of hairstyles and various clothes. Players could choose and peel off desired hairstyles and garments, which, being adhesive on the back, could be stuck onto the model, resembling a simplified paper doll dress-up game. Li Chuiyuan felt he was playing this game now, but his “makeup kit” of accessories was far, far richer than what a set of sticker paper toys offered. As he played, a thought gradually arose in Li Chuiyuan’s mind: Could he try to make this face move and speak?

The first seven volumes of *The Esoteric Art of Physiognomy* involved extensive memorization and calculations. It was in the eighth volume that the transformation from science to metaphysics occurred; “metaphysics” here referred to a threshold. Thanks to his mother frequently taking him to a psychologist when he was young, he had naively created a split personality for himself at the time, following the doctor’s treatment guidelines to meet his mother’s perceived needs. Could the same method be applied here? This thought alarmed him, as it felt like he had found the key to understanding the eighth volume! Yet, at the same time, Li Chuiyuan felt a sense of danger. The personalities he had previously created for himself were completely controllable, but would it be safe to create a personality in his mind based on someone else’s template?

“Little Yuanhou, wake up, heh heh, still sleeping? It’s time for us to work.” Li Weihan’s voice sounded in his ear, followed by a rough yet warm hand caressing his face. Li Chuiyuan knew he was truly awake now. He didn’t know if the woman had returned to test him again after that. But it no longer mattered. Immersed in his studies, he had genuinely ignored external changes, not asleep, yet more “dead” than if he had been.

“What’s wrong, Little Yuanhou? Did you not sleep well outside?” Li Weihan asked with concern.

“No, Grandpa, I slept very well.” Li Chuiyuan turned his head towards the house and saw that the university students were also awake and washing up. Zhao Hequan was there too, alive and laughing with his classmates.

“That’s good. Your uncle has fetched water, let’s wash our faces.”

After a quick wash, everyone collected breakfast and headed to the construction site early. Today’s task was village-based, and completing it early meant returning home sooner, without having to spend another night here. Li Chuiyuan also came to the riverside construction area. This time, he decided to be lazy, found a rock, and sat down, propping his chin on his hand. He was conflicted. He felt he had found the key to the eighth volume, but he dared not try it. He vaguely felt this was similar to when he had tried to tell his own fortune previously. This profession had many taboos—no, that wasn’t quite right. This profession was, by its very nature, composed of various taboos.

The bustling atmosphere at the construction site gradually dispelled the gloom in Li Chuiyuan’s heart. He had somewhat come to terms with it. The first seven volumes were enough for him to analyze people’s faces when he had nothing else to do. As for the eighth volume, it should only be used in special circumstances.

“Alright, time to help Grandpa and the others transport mud.”

Just as Li Chuiyuan was about to stand up, his gaze dropped, and he suddenly noticed a patch of gray discoloration on the inside of his left forearm. Looking at his right forearm, he saw an identical spot in the corresponding position. He immediately touched his face; it felt normal and hadn’t itched when he woke up. He had almost forgotten about it. Now it seemed he had been affected after all. It was understandable why it hadn’t appeared on his face. The effects of the dream last night didn’t necessarily manifest on his face, as he wasn’t in his true physical body at the time. Li Chuiyuan raised both arms and examined them closely. Although both patches were only about the size of a coin, this… thing could very likely spread.

Just then, two people approached; specifically, Xue Liangliang was helping Zhao Hequan walk over. They were a surveying team, and regardless of any conflicts from last night, they still had to complete their task together today.

“Brother, what happened to him?” Li Chuiyuan asked.

Xue Liangliang replied, “He’s not feeling well, I’m taking him to see a doctor.”

Li Chuiyuan noticed that Zhao Hequan’s neck was entirely bluish-black. Right, he had only been hit by pieces of flesh from the woman’s face, but Zhao Hequan had been taken away by the woman gripping his neck. His condition was certainly the most severe.

After greeting Li Weihan, Li Chuiyuan followed Xue Liangliang and the others back to the dam where they had slept last night. A barefoot doctor was stationed there. The doctor unbuttoned Zhao Hequan’s shirt, examined his symptoms, and then his expression became grim.

“Doctor, is he poisoned, or was he bitten by a poisonous insect?” Xue Liangliang asked anxiously.

“Where would we find such potent venomous insects here? It doesn’t quite look like poisoning either; it wouldn’t progress this fast. Didn’t you say he was fine this morning?”

“Yes, he was completely normal this morning.”

“Oh dear,” the doctor said, looking troubled. “Take him to the health center in the nearest town for an examination. All I can do here is treat minor ailments like headaches and fevers.”

“Doctor, I have something here too,” Xue Liangliang said, rolling up both his sleeves. Standing nearby, Li Chuiyuan saw that his arms, just like his own, had gray, round spots. Indeed, the woman had also squatted in front of him last night, almost grabbing him instead of Zhao Hequan, so it was normal for some pieces of flesh to have hit him.

“Go to the hospital quickly. You should both get checked to rule out any infectious diseases.”

“Okay, I’ll leave my friend here and go find a car.”

The doctor frowned but could only nod, then took an old mask from his pocket and put it on. After Xue Liangliang left, the doctor looked at Zhao Hequan again. By now, Zhao Hequan’s consciousness was somewhat blurry. The doctor murmured, “It really doesn’t look like an illness; it’s more like he’s been affected by something ‘unclean’.”

Barefoot doctors were individuals with basic medical knowledge, trained or designated by the state after the founding of New China. They were not formally employed but served as both farmers and medical practitioners. While their professional medical skills generally couldn’t compare to those of doctors in regular hospitals, they played a crucial role and made outstanding contributions to improving and ensuring healthcare conditions in rural areas during a specific historical period. Additionally, due to the nature of their profession, they often had their own understanding of certain unusual or difficult ailments and were less dismissive of them.

“What did you say?” Li Chuiyuan heard and asked curiously.

The doctor said nothing; he wouldn’t go around spouting superstitious nonsense to scare a child.

“Did he encounter something ‘unclean,’ was he affected?” Li Chuiyuan pressed, “How do we fix it?”

The doctor chuckled slightly, “My boy, how would I know how to fix it? I’m a doctor, not a fortune-teller.”

Li Chuiyuan was a bit disappointed. It seemed he would have to wait for his great-grandfather to return home. He actually knew that Aunt Liu Jinxi and Aunt Li Juxiang seemed to have ways to solve such problems, but he was truly embarrassed to ask them, as their mother-daughter duo’s solutions were often too simple and brutal.

Just then, Xue Liangliang, who had only left a moment ago, returned, accompanied by a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in work clothes. This man had thick, steady eyebrows and a square face, exuding an aura of integrity and authority.

“Engineer Luo,” the doctor said, standing up to greet him. The man was the deputy director of the project and also a department head at Haihe University, primarily responsible for organizing water conservancy construction projects in this area for many years.

“Hm,” Luo Tingrui responded with a raised hand, then walked directly to Zhao Hequan. After examining the situation, he quietly reprimanded Xue Liangliang beside him, “Don’t you two have any sense? Who told you to be so impulsive yesterday?”

“Director, it was my fault.”

Luo Tingrui’s face was grim. “Didn’t I teach you that when you encounter graves or temples during construction, you must deal with them? Even if conditions don’t allow for relocation or resettlement, before tearing them down, you must burn incense, offer prayers, and say a few good words. But what did you do? You went straight for the hammer!”

“Director, what should we do now?” In fact, Xue Liangliang had intended to burn incense and offer prayers before dismantling the temple yesterday. But Zhao Hequan had scoffed, saying it was “the bad roots of Chinese people,” and immediately smashed it with a hammer, leaving Xue Liangliang no choice but to follow suit. Who would have thought such a problem would arise the next day? But now was clearly not the time to apportion blame or offer explanations.

“Where was that statue moved to?”

“It was dragged to the west ditch, piled with construction waste.”

“Alright, take him there first. I’ll go to my temporary office to find some incense. Offer an apology first, then send him to the city hospital. The town health center likely can’t handle these symptoms. Anyway, finding a car now will take some time.”

“Understood, Director.”

Xue Liangliang hoisted Zhao Hequan onto his back and jogged down the dam. As he walked, he suddenly turned his head and looked at Li Chuiyuan, who was following him. “You…”

Li Chuiyuan wasted no words, revealing his forearm to him.

Xue Liangliang was very surprised. “Little one, did you smash it too?”

“I don’t know.” In reality, Li Chuiyuan was the most innocent; he now possessed the passive ability to “walk in the yin realm,” yet this entire incident truly had nothing to do with him.

“Then come with me to burn incense. After we’re done, tell your family, and I’ll take you to the city hospital with us.”

“Okay, big brother.”

The two, or rather, the three of them arrived at the west ditch where construction waste was piled. The Bodhisattva statue stood there, isolated. The villagers involved in the construction still observed basic taboos; they hadn’t left it lying down. There was a stone propping it up, ensuring it remained upright. After setting Zhao Hequan down, Xue Liangliang approached the statue and bowed first. “Yesterday was my fault, please forgive me…” He paused, then looked at Li Chuiyuan beside him. “At the very least, you must forgive this child.”

Last night, Xue Liangliang had confidently declared: this world is materialistic. However, this wasn’t entirely wrong. In the eyes of a true materialist, as long as there’s a set of observable laws to explore and solve a problem, then even a ghost is a materialistic ghost.

Li Chuiyuan, meanwhile, carefully observed the statue. Having been submerged in water or mud for a long time, its painted surface had long since peeled and corroded. What met his eyes were large patches of a reddish, rust-like surface, likely the material of the clay used to form the statue. This also corresponded to the state of the woman when she appeared last night: a mass of raw, burnt, and bloody flesh. Most importantly, while other parts of the statue’s face were no longer visible, a section of white “tooth” paint remained at the corner of its mouth. This was likely due to the pigment being particularly durable, and from the shape of the painted face, the chin receded, leaving a gap around the mouth. This might have prevented it from being completely covered and filled by the mud.

Li Chuiyuan also bowed, then a rhyme his great-grandfather had recited when taking him to see the little yellow oriole came to mind. His excellent memory allowed him to recall it word for word, and he recited it accordingly:

“Today I offer to you, next year I’ll send you offerings. My sincerity extends this far, are you satisfied?
Regardless of yin or yang, reason must prevail.
If there’s injustice, seek justice; if there’s vengeance, seek vengeance. Mortals all suffer, so please do not interfere with them.”

Beside him, Xue Liangliang stared at the child, his eyes wide. In this child, he saw… professionalism.

After finishing the recitation, Li Chuiyuan added, “The incense will be brought over soon. When I get home, I’ll set up a small altar for you and offer all my snacks to make up for it.”

Xue Liangliang asked, surprised and doubtful, “Will that work?”

Li Chuiyuan shook his head and honestly replied, “I don’t know.” He was simply copying the answer from his great-grandfather’s example.

Immediately, Li Chuiyuan raised his arm again. “Eh?” The gray spot, which had been the size of a coin, had now shrunk to the size of a soybean, and its color had faded. Li Chuiyuan blinked; he hadn’t expected his great-grandfather’s “answer” to be so effective!

“Let’s see yours.” Li Chuiyuan looked at Xue Liangliang, needing a comparison. Xue Liangliang immediately spread his arms. His gray spots had not only not shrunk but had actually grown larger. He immediately said, “Little brother, quickly teach me to recite it.”

“Okay.”

Next, Xue Liangliang imitated Li Chuiyuan, reciting the same words, but he changed Li Chuiyuan’s last line about “offering snacks” to “getting dishes from the school cafeteria and setting up an altar for you in the dorm.” After reciting, he waited for a moment. Xue Liangliang, like scratching a lottery ticket, pulled up his sleeve and let out a surprised gasp. The spots had shrunk, but not to the size of a soybean; instead, they had returned to their previous size.

“This…” Xue Liangliang frowned. “Does the Bodhisattva also know that our school cafeteria food is terrible?”

Li Chuiyuan thought it might be because he had actually smashed the statue yesterday.

“Why is there another child?” Luo Tingrui said, approaching with incense.

“This child also encountered the same problem.”

Luo Tingrui looked puzzled but asked nothing further. Instead, he handed a stick of incense to Li Chuiyuan, one to himself, and one to Xue Liangliang. As for the semi-conscious Zhao Hequan, he stuffed a large bundle of incense into his hand.

Next, Luo Tingrui stood at the very front, first offering a solemn bow with the incense. Then, unbuttoning his collar, he sat down in front of the statue, heedless of the dirt. With one hand continuously patting the ground and the other clutching his chest, he began to air his grievances. He recalled the bitter days before liberation, spoke of the purpose and significance of building roads, bridges, and water conservancy projects, and concluded with a vision for the future. He spoke with great passion and emotion, entirely shedding his previous rigorous engineer’s demeanor. Anyone unaware would have thought he was holding a small symposium. Moreover, perhaps fearing that the local deities might not understand Mandarin well, he deliberately used a good deal of Nantong dialect, though it was clumsy and non-standard.

After speaking, he stood up, placed his hands on Li Chuiyuan’s and Xue Liangliang’s heads, and made them bow again while holding the incense. Finally, he dragged the unconscious Zhao Hequan over, grabbed his head, and made him kowtow.

After completing these actions, Luo Tingrui buttoned his collar, and his composure returned. Noticing Xue Liangliang’s curious gaze, he testily said, “Learn from this. I also learned this from my seniors. These kinds of things aren’t common in the Nantong area, but when building roads and bridges inland, encountering such situations is extremely common. Everyone has figured out this set of procedures, and it’s quite effective.”

Li Chuiyuan nodded convincingly, because he noticed that after this ritual, the soybean-sized gray spot on his forearm had disappeared, leaving only a faint, almost imperceptible discoloration. It was practically healed. This was truly amazing. If he had asked Liu Jinxi for treatment back home, Aunt Xianghou would likely have been rolling on the ground in pain again. Li Chuiyuan began to ponder: could this be considered another form of esoteric development? It primarily involved appealing to emotion and explaining with reason. However, the key here seemed to be a higher form of righteousness, which even “unclean things” could only retreat from.

The spots on Xue Liangliang’s arm had shrunk back to the size of soybeans and also faded significantly. It seemed his problem wasn’t severe; even if a faint mark remained permanently, it was nothing for a hydraulics student. As for Zhao Hequan, he seemed somewhat relieved, beginning to groan and regain some consciousness. However, his condition had been the most severe from the start; even if he recovered by half now… it felt like the difference between an illness that could kill you ten times and one that would only kill you once. After all, Li Chuiyuan had personally witnessed “Zhao Hequan” being carried away by the woman. Where had he been taken?

Li Chuiyuan looked around the base of the statue, thinking there wasn’t a suitable place to hide anything, but then he noticed an inscription on the statue’s base, between its feet: “Lady Bai.” Was that the woman’s title? It certainly fit the local naming customs; for instance, Liu Jinxi was referred to by guests as “Granny Liu.” So, it wasn’t strictly a Bodhisattva statue, but calling it one wasn’t entirely wrong, because in the common and broad understanding of deities, female divine figures often seemed to be referred to as “female Bodhisattvas.”

“Let’s send him to the city hospital,” Luo Tingrui sighed, then told Xue Liangliang, “You should also go to the hospital for another check-up, just to make sure there are no lingering issues.”

Xue Liangliang pointed at Li Chuiyuan and said, “This little friend also needs to get checked.”

“Hm, little friend, which village and team are your parents from?”

“Fourth Team, Siyuan Village, Shinan Town.”

Luo Tingrui looked at Xue Liangliang: “I’ll go tell his family that you students are taking him to the city for a bit of sightseeing and fun, and then you’ll drive him home tonight. I can’t leave the construction site, so you take them. The car should be waiting at the entrance now.”

“Understood, Director.”

Xue Liangliang helped Zhao Hequan up again, then gestured for Li Chuiyuan to follow. Indeed, a car was parked at the western entrance of the construction site, and the driver was inside. Seeing them approach, he immediately drove towards the city. On the way, Li Chuiyuan mused that if Engineer Luo spoke to his grandpa and the others, they would surely be at ease. After all, Engineer Luo’s position as deputy director was even more significant than that of the town mayor.

They arrived at Nantong City People’s Hospital at exactly ten o’clock in the morning. Li Chuiyuan checked his arm; the discoloration was gone. It was completely healed. Nevertheless, once he returned home, he would still set up the small altar to fulfill his promise. Xue Liangliang was also largely recovered; his soybean-sized marks had diminished to faint traces. However, unlike the mostly recovered condition of the other two, it seemed all the suffering had fallen upon Zhao Hequan alone. At the start of the journey, he had regained some consciousness and appeared much better, but on the way, his condition began to worsen again. He vomited more than once in the car, expelling foul-smelling, acidic fluid. The driver was so distressed that he honked the horn with much more force.

Upon reaching the hospital, Xue Liangliang first arranged for Zhao Hequan to be taken to the emergency room, then held Li Chuiyuan’s hand and accompanied him for a series of tests, including blood work. While waiting for the results, it was almost lunchtime. Xue Liangliang went to the hospital cafeteria, bought some steamed buns, and brought them back to share with Li Chuiyuan.

“It looks like we won’t get the report until after work starts this afternoon,” Xue Liangliang said, looking at Li Chuiyuan. “After we get the report this afternoon, I’ll buy you some milk and a small toy from the shop at the entrance for you to take home.”

“Thank you, big brother.”

“Don’t mention it. Ultimately, I’m the one who caused you trouble.” This incident started because he and Zhao Hequan used hammers to smash the statue; how could this child possibly have swung a sledgehammer?

Li Chuiyuan lowered his head and took a bite of his bun. It was indeed his fault, but Li Chuiyuan didn’t blame him. It was hard to feel disgust towards someone as cheerful, outgoing, and considerate as him, and Li Chuiyuan himself enjoyed playing a character like that…

Li Chuiyuan clutched the bun in his left hand and gripped his head with his right, his expression pained. Damn it, that feeling was surfacing again. At this moment, Li Chuiyuan felt his vision begin to blur, experiencing a sense of misalignment between himself and his body. In fact, this was a tangible manifestation of his self-perception and identity relationships detaching. In his mind, his mother’s frequent recent displays of indifference and sarcasm resurfaced. He knew clearly that if he let this symptom spiral out of control and complete its detachment, he would forever lose his identity as “Little Yuanhou.” When facing familial and social relationships, he would become coldly resistant, unable even to pretend to engage. Yet, he genuinely liked this life and refused to let go. If his mother hadn’t been in the picture, he might not have been so resistant, perhaps even thinking of trying to see what that feeling was like. But now, precisely because his mother’s presence loomed, he was scared.

Perhaps, even Li Lan herself never imagined that her painstaking efforts to find psychologists and various methods for timely intervention and treatment for her son… were far less effective than her own negative example.

“Little Yuan, what’s wrong? Little Yuan, are you feeling unwell?” Xue Liangliang was startled, fearing the child had developed a serious problem because of him.

Li Chuiyuan continuously and rapidly recited his family relationship network in his mind. This time, he even brought out Grandpa Bei and Grandma Bei, and Qin Li’s name recurred with even greater frequency. The girl whose eyes only saw him — he truly didn’t want to return and respond with indifference when facing her gaze. At the same time, Li Chuiyuan also thought: *I’ve only found a way to approach the eighth volume of physiognomy; I haven’t dared to experiment yet, so it’s not truly mastered! My Eight Trigrams calculations for fate prediction aren’t fully complete yet, and while progress is fast, what if I get stuck later? No, even if I master these two volumes, there are still so many books in Great-Grandpa’s basement! I definitely can’t read and learn them all. I’m bound to fail, bound to not understand, bound to feel frustrated, helpless, and sick of studying!*

“Crack!”

A silent, crisp sound, as if his conscious thought and identity perception had clicked back into place. Li Chuiyuan finally let out a sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair, his face covered in cold sweat. Indeed, the frustration of learning was the most effective. This sudden occurrence was likely related to his breakthrough with the eighth volume during the night, which made him lose his self-awareness as a poor student.

“Little Yuan, are you alright?”

“I’m fine now, Brother Liangliang.” Li Chuiyuan wiped the sweat from his forehead and, to reassure him, deliberately added, “It’s not about this incident; I have epilepsy.”

“Oh, I see. Just sit tight and don’t go anywhere. I’ll get you a warm towel to wipe yourself down.”

“Okay, thank you, Brother Liangliang.”

After Xue Liangliang left, Li Chuiyuan caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye: Sister Yingzi. Was she also at this hospital? Had her maternal grandparents been transferred here from the town health center? Didn’t that mean Great-Grandpa might also be here? However, Li Chuiyuan didn’t leave his seat to follow her; he was afraid Xue Liangliang would return and get anxious if he couldn’t find him.

Xue Liangliang returned with a new towel. He carefully wiped Li Chuiyuan’s face and gestured for him to raise his arm, then slipped the towel under his short sleeve to wipe his body, preventing him from catching a cold.

“Little Yuan, you’re not from around here, are you?” Xue Liangliang asked with a smile. “Yesterday, when I asked, you said you were local, but earlier, when you were getting blood drawn, you spoke to the nurse in Nantong dialect. I heard it.”

“Hmm, I grew up in the capital, and just recently came back to my hometown.”

“The capital, huh? I’ve been there during an inter-university exchange program. I visited Weiming Lake.”

*Too bad, we didn’t happen to meet,* Li Chuiyuan thought to himself.

“I really envy kids from big cities,” Xue Liangliang remarked.

“Where are you from, Brother Liang?”

“Me? I’m from a rural area in Anhui. My old home is really beautiful, just a bit poor.”

Li Chuiyuan nodded. He also thought many old houses in Siyuan Village were beautiful, especially the roofs of those bungalows and their flying eaves designs; they were very charming.

“It’s a pity. After many families in my hometown improved their financial situation, they tore down their old houses and built new buildings.”

“That’s also for a better life.”

“I know, but I think that in the future, once ordinary people’s lives improve, they’ll start to enjoy traveling, just like those in developed countries. If the old houses aren’t torn down, they might even become tourist attractions.”

Li Chuiyuan looked at Xue Liangliang. He felt that this older brother’s way of thinking possessed a sharp depth that even he admired. He wasn’t one of those who were “born knowing,” nor was he like his gifted classmates. Instead, he seemed exceptionally skilled at discovering objective laws and grasping the essence of problems, demonstrating long-term vision. Perhaps, this was a form of genius in itself.

“Haha, do you think I’m talking nonsense? How could anyone possibly buy tickets and queue up to visit these old houses and towns in the future?”

Li Chuiyuan shook his head. “I think you’re probably right, Brother Liangliang.”

“You’re very smart, really, I can tell. How are your grades?”

“Pretty good. There aren’t many kids in my class who are better than me.”

“That’s because you’re still young. In lower grades, there’s less to learn, the differences aren’t significant, and competition is low. You’ll understand when you get to middle school, high school, and then university. Don’t be conceited now.”

“Understood.”

Li Chuiyuan then pointed to the stairwell. “Brother Liangliang, I just saw my cousin go upstairs. Her maternal grandparents are hospitalized here, and my cousin and aunt should be with them. I want to go see her.”

“Alright, I’ll go with you.”

“No need to trouble yourself so much, I can go alone.”

“No, that won’t do. After we get the check-up results this afternoon and confirm everything’s fine, I’ll have to personally take you home.”

“Okay, Brother Liangliang.”

The fourth and fifth floors were inpatient wards. Li Chuiyuan didn’t know the patient’s name, so he couldn’t look up the room number. He could only scan one ward after another. It wasn’t long before he heard a familiar, booming voice: “What the hell is going on here!” It was Great-Grandpa’s voice. Li Chuiyuan immediately ran over, with Xue Liangliang following behind. At the same time, some patients and family members appeared in the hallway, drawn out by the commotion to see what was happening.

He arrived at the ward door and pushed it open. Li Chuiyuan saw Li Sanjiang holding a peach wood sword, shielding Yingzi, Third Aunt, and two other middle-aged men and women behind him. On each of the two hospital beds lay an elder, presumably Yingzi’s maternal grandparents. At this moment, both elders were convulsing violently, with blood oozing from their eyes, ears, nostrils, and especially their mouths, where it surged out, not only staining the beds red but also rapidly forming two large puddles on the floor. Yet, despite this, they were still very difficultly uttering broken, intermittent sounds:

“Mercy… Mercy… Lady Bai!”