Tricked 028: Logical Recapitulation

Previously, the words written in her palm.

“Don’t keep investigating.”

The choice two months later, a correction for her future self.

The video ended there. After that, the footage was of He Shuyu using her uninjured leg to hook the camera’s hanging cord, tucking it into the cabinet.

This scene reminded Jiang Yan of the doll that had sung the strange song.

—“A girl hops on one foot, singing a song.”

It seemed that He Shuyu had deliberately left clues about her disability. The reason the girl wore three layers of skin in the song was obvious, but the reason she hopped on one foot was never made clear.

It was precisely because there was no definite answer that listeners would fixate on the specific reason. It was this sustained doubt and curiosity that caused people to subconsciously remember, “Why is the girl disabled? Why is she hurt?”

That was He Shuyu’s intention.

She and the girl shared a similar situation with their bodies, and to some extent, she wanted others to notice it.

But ultimately, she was still more worried about Zhang Xiaoliang’s future.

She was afraid no one would care for Zhang Xiaoliang once Zhang Tian was imprisoned, so her hints were especially subtle, leaving it entirely to fate whether others would notice.

Fortunately, Jiang Yan still noticed the inconsistency from the two mirrors at different heights and discovered the fact of He Shuyu’s disability, thus tracing the curse back to He Shuyu’s mother.

Jiang Yan put away the camera and patted the obedient little paper figurine nestled in her pocket.

She texted Shen Huanhuan: “Heard everything?”

Shen Huanhuan was waiting by her phone, replying quickly: “Heard it.”

She had previously watched the hospital surveillance footage of Zhu Xinyun and said, “That night, after Zhu Xinyun went into the bathroom, she probably also gave Xiang Nanzhi a red envelope. After all, red envelopes to doctors are quite common—Xiang Nanzhi wouldn’t suspect anything.”

Jiang Yan thought the same.

Shen Huanhuan sent another message: “Xiaoxiao asked me to apologize to you. She said she heard He Shuyu mumbling something like ‘Mom gives red envelopes at New Year’ on the night He Shuyu’s soul returned. She was scared at the time, planned to tell you, but forgot later.”

Jiang Yan didn’t mind.

After all, even if she had been told back then, without context or key clues, she wasn’t a god—she couldn’t deduce the cause and effect from a single sentence.

“It’s fine.”

After replying, Jiang Yan left the side room and found the elderly woman still awake.

Song Zhaoping was still watching a skit. Her gaze was dazed, but her face smiled joyfully, as if she was enjoying something.

When asked by Chen Wan, the elder replied, “Baby came, I’m happy.”

Thousands of years old, yet being called “baby” by someone not even seventy.

Jiang Yan didn’t get angry—she just found it novel.

She leaned against the door with her arms folded. “Baby? How old am I this year?”

“…Five?” The old woman glanced at Jiang Yan, saw her cold expression, and quickly corrected, “Eight, eight years old!”

Jiang Yan brushed her hair aside.

The elder, cautious: “Could it be thirteen?”

Jiang Yan met her gaze, expression displeased.

The old woman sat upright: “I remember now, eighteen! It’s eighteen!”

Chen Wan couldn’t help but laugh out two dimples.

Guessing age was something the elder could never get right, so Jiang Yan didn’t press her further and asked:

“I’m eighteen, then how old is my child?”

This time, the old woman didn’t hesitate, resolutely, “Eleven!”

Chen Wan covered her mouth, snickering. “Aunt Song, how can someone eighteen have an eleven-year-old? Think again: how old are Shuyu and Xiaoliang really?”

But Song Zhaoping was stubborn, kicking off her slippers and throwing a little tantrum. “I’m not old—my memory’s great!”

She poked Jiang Yan hard. “You tell her, isn’t it eleven?”

Jiang Yan turned aside, dodging the elder’s poke. “Eleven. I just told you a while ago.”

The old woman nodded in satisfaction, withdrawing her hand.

Having gotten what she wanted, Jiang Yan looked at Chen Wan: “Did Song Zhaoping leave home last week?”

Though phrased as a question, her tone was certain.

“Yes,” replied Chen Wan. “Last week, Zhang Tian contacted me out of the blue, said Shuyu was missing Aunt Song, and asked me to bring her over that night. I just dropped Aunt Song off and left. Only after her dinner did I pick her up.”

Everything became clear.

Zuo Nianchen was eleven.

So, that night, after Song Zhaoping came to 604, she met Xiang Nanzhi. Unable to recognize people, and with Zhang Tian’s guidance, the elder mistook Xiang Nanzhi for her daughter and accepted the red envelope with her own hair from Zhang Tian, giving it to Xiang Nanzhi as a New Year’s gift.

Xiang Nanzhi tried to dodge, but the elder said, “No dodging, Mom’s red envelope is big.”

—“Take it, no more crying. If you cry, Mom hurts.”

During the giving, the elder must have asked, or heard, the child’s age.

In short, Xiang Nanzhi was forced to accept the red envelope, and after the elder left, spent the money from it—Jiang Yan could guess how: most likely she was coerced by Zhang Tian to buy something to eat from him, and then forced to eat it all.

It was during this that He Shuyu called the police—the chewing sounds in the background were Xiang Nanzhi being forced to accept the curse.

Everything Jiang Yan said and did, Shen Huanhuan could hear through the paper figurine, and she had figured it out now, but had one more question.

She asked Jiang Yan: “I don’t understand how Zhang Tian got that red envelope. Was it the one He Shuyu gave Song Zhaoping?”

Jiang Yan didn’t think so: “If He Shuyu wanted the curse to end with her, she would have torn up that red envelope.”

Shen Huanhuan: “Then the one in Zhang Tian’s hand?”

“Didn’t Zhang Tian do a favour for Zhu Xinyun in 303?” Jiang Yan replied. “If he wanted to play the victim, pretend Xiaoliang’s injuries had recurred, say things like ‘Why is it my son suffering?’ then Zhu Xinyun might have given him contact details of the person who messaged her, telling him how to save the boy.”

“This red envelope was probably obtained by Zhang Tian himself.”

Shen Huanhuan had no more questions.

“I’ll report it to the bureau immediately,” she said. “The Interrogation Room at the Supernatural Administration Bureau is filled with wicked ghosts not yet reincarnated—the psychic who sent the red envelopes won’t last.”

Jiang Yan was much calmer than Shen Huanhuan, put her phone down, and got ready to say goodbye.

She looked to Song Zhaoping.

The old woman, seeing Jiang Yan gaze her way, couldn’t hide her smile—wrinkles folding layer upon layer. “Going to work?”

The sky outside was already dim, the last remnants of sunset light softening the elder’s face, faintly reflecting He Shuyu’s shadow.

Jiang Yan waved her over. “Come here.”

Song Zhaoping, no longer a stranger, still thought Jiang Yan was He Shuyu, and happily came close.

Jiang Yan leaned down and asked, “Guess how old I am?”

Song Zhaoping remembered their earlier exchange and cocked her head. “Eighteen.”

Jiang Yan leaned into her ear: “Wrong. It’s three thousand.”

She straightened to watch Song Zhaoping’s reaction, but the old woman’s face didn’t change, nor did she panic—she just nodded solemnly.

“Three thousand’s good—long life, Mom’s happy.”

*

The livestream viewers all took Jiang Yan’s words as a joke, no less funny than a six-year-old wishing every day for Ultraman to save the world.

But none of them laughed.

They sighed over Song Zhaoping’s words, over He Shuyu’s choices, over her all-too-short life.

Perhaps the only bit of luck in this case was that Song Zhaoping knew nothing and was about to forget everything.

When Jiang Yan left the complex, night had fully fallen.

Shen Huanhuan and Shen Xiaoxiao stood at the entrance. When Shen Huanhuan saw her, she smiled and waved; Shen Xiaoxiao, bouncing and loud, startled two leaves off the tree above with her shout.

“Jiang Yan-jie——!!”

Jiang Yan couldn’t dodge in time and could only ask what they were doing here.

“Of course, we’re here to eat with you,” Shen Xiaoxiao said, looking at her phone, delighted. “This place has tons of great food—the most famous skewers shop in Anping is only six hundred meters away!”

Shen Xiaoxiao reserved a table, hooked Jiang Yan’s arm, and dragged her along several steps.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Yan frowned.

“They’re super busy—you wait any longer, dinner means a ten-minute wait turns into two hours!” Shen Xiaoxiao, seeing Jiang Yan resist, lamented deeply, “Not being enthusiastic about food is a serious problem!”

Shen Huanhuan chided, “You didn’t even ask if Jiang Yan-jie wanted skewers.”

Shen Xiaoxiao turned, “Jiang Yan-jie, you really like skewers, don’t you?”

Jiang Yan: “…………”

Shen Huanhuan went silent.

“How come you’re not this sharp normally?” Shen Huanhuan sounded helpless. “Now you want to play word games.”

Shen Xiaoxiao pouted, “But I want to treat Jiang Yan-jie to skewers.”

Jiang Yan’s resistance faded a lot.

She still had over three thousand yuan from He Qingyuan, and hadn’t decided how to make money herself, so she was easily moved by the word “treat.”

“Fine, let’s go.”

“Ah…huh?” Shen Xiaoxiao had braced for a refusal, even rehearsing a whine. Now, hearing Jiang Yan agree so easily, her eyes lit up with stars.

Shen Huanhuan blinked, studying Jiang Yan.

If she’d seen right, hadn’t Jiang Yan’s face shown some reluctance just now?

Jiang Yan looked aside, “What?”

Shen Huanhuan shook her head.

When picking dishes, Shen Xiaoxiao filled four baskets to the brim before finally stopping under Shen Huanhuan’s weighty stare.

Shen Xiaoxiao puffed her chest, “I can finish it all!”

Shen Huanhuan: “That’s what you said.”

Shen Xiaoxiao: “Of course! If I can’t, I’ll crawl home!”

【LMAO, swearing like that—if Huanhuan hadn’t glared, she’d have emptied the cabinet.】

【But three people can’t finish that much, feels like a waste.】

【Their family has money—rich kids can eat however they want.】

【Huh? Really that rich?】

【Their father is Shen Dong’an, China’s top architect and Jiangcheng’s real estate giant. You tell me if they’re rich.】

【Why does that name sound so familiar, even though I don’t follow architecture or real estate…】

【Probably from the news. Three years ago, Shen Dong’an was stabbed in the heart by a business rival and died on the spot. He was all over the headlines, the whole country mourned—it caused quite a stir.】

【I remember that. The reason was, Shen Dong’an was also a well-known philanthropist, donated half his fortune during the severe drought, built roads and schools in the mountains—definitely the kindest among the wealthy.】

【Wait, if the twins are that well-off, why become psychics? You could die any day in this job.】

【That’s not the right mindset! With ideals in our hearts, humanity has a future. Of course, we send supernatural entities to reincarnation out of love and hope!】

【Oh, I’m just doing it because I can’t find a job.】

【……..】

When the three arrived, it wasn’t too busy yet, so the food came quickly. By the time they were eating, a huge line had formed outside.

Shen Xiaoxiao moved the tray closer to Jiang Yan, urging, “Try it!”

Jiang Yan picked up a skewer of fried bok choy drenched in sauce, took a bite, and lost the last bit of resistance.

“Not bad.” She spoke honestly.

Shen Xiaoxiao looked like she was about to float with pride, but before she could gloat, Shen Huanhuan stuffed a forkful of enoki mushrooms into her mouth.

Shen Xiaoxiao stopped talking and chewed obediently.

Jiang Yan made casual conversation with Shen Huanhuan, summarizing the current information and logic chain.

Now, Task Two—to identify the cause of He Shuyu’s death—was basically resolved.

Chen Ning from 709, for certain reasons, once her daughter Chen Ranyi died, tried to get revenge on Zhu Xinyun in 303.

By chance, she got in touch with a psychic—the sender of those text messages.

With the psychic’s help, Chen Ning tried to curse Zhu Xinyun through a red envelope, making her hurt her own child so she, too, would know pain.

Wang Zhihua had said October 13th was Li Cheng’s birthday. On that day, Chen Ning had visited, so that’s when she placed the curse.

There could be many reasons for giving Zhu Xinyun a red envelope.

For instance, though it was Li Cheng’s birthday, it was also the day Zhu Xinyun had her second surgery. As a childhood friend, Chen Ning gave Li Cheng a red envelope and also wanted to give Zhu Xinyun one, for whatever reason. Chen Ning put her own hair in the envelope, and Zhu Xinyun spent the money.

On the morning of the 14th, the curse worked—Li Cheng was burned by hot oil and ended up in intensive care. Feeling her revenge was complete, that night Chen Ning set fire and killed herself.

That night, Zhu Xinyun got a text. At the hospital garden, she took a red envelope inscribed with a curse, transferring it to her son’s doctor, Xiang Nanzhi.

Her reason for targeting Xiang Nanzhi was clear—slipping a doctor a red envelope was no big deal.

On the morning of the 15th, Xiang Nanzhi, taking her daughter to school, forgot Zuo Nianchen hadn’t gotten in the car and ran her over. After Zuo Nianchen was admitted to the hospital, Xiang Nanzhi received a message and, the next day at noon, arranged to meet He Shuyu.

Why did Xiang Nanzhi choose He Shuyu? Maybe as He Shuyu guessed—Xiang Nanzhi wasn’t lovesick or scheming for position. She just knew He Shuyu’s personality—He Shuyu was softhearted, would accept a mistress’s apology, and would take a red envelope to ease the other’s mind.

Whatever the reason, as soon as He Shuyu spent the money from the envelope, the curse took effect.

On the night of the 16th, Zhang Xiaoliang, on his way from school, had his right eye pierced by a drunk’s broken glass, his brain was injured, and his life ebbed away.

At that moment, He Shuyu received the message. After consideration, she chose to hurt herself.

On the morning of the 17th, she moved into her mother’s house.

Because her mother forgot to lock the door, a thief broke in; but thanks to prior planning, her injury wasn’t fatal, and she concealed it—pretending the curse had failed, acting as if even without passing it on, her child could survive.

Thus, the curse didn’t spread, no more children got hurt, and no more mothers endured pain and despair.

But since He Shuyu lived with Zhang Tian, she couldn’t hide everything. At the very least, she couldn’t explain the knife wound on her knee, why she didn’t get treatment, or why she pretended to be healthy.

So Zhang Tian pieced together the real cause of his family’s injuries from various clues.

He wanted revenge on Xiang Nanzhi, but since He Shuyu refused to say anything and her mental state declined under the curse, he called in favours to track down who passed the curse to Xiang Nanzhi—Zhu Xinyun.

Direct confrontation wouldn’t work, so in late December, he triggered one of He Shuyu’s attacks, had her break school equipment, pretended bankruptcy, and moved into the concrete block building.

Afterward, he treated Zhu Xinyun especially well, even pulling strings to solve Li Cheng’s school problems. Zhu Xinyun was deeply grateful but felt she had no way to repay him.

Then one day, with Zhang Tian’s hints—such as lying that Zhang Xiaoliang’s condition had returned and that things looked grim—Zhu Xinyun thought of that message, and so gave Zhang Tian the sender’s contact information.

Finally, Zhang Tian understood how to transfer the curse and made all his preparations.

During this time, He Shuyu guessed what Zhang Tian was planning. To prevent him from escaping punishment, she prepared in advance—hiding clues in her horror novels, leaving a doll that sang creepy songs. She hoped investigators would deduce she was estranged from Zhang Tian and disabled, and piece it all together.

Last week, Zhang Tian tricked Xiang Nanzhi to their home, having her accept the curse from Song Zhaoping.

During that, He Shuyu reported to the police—since Zhang Tian was nearby, she didn’t explain the reason.

In fact, to spare Zhang Tian from a criminal record that would affect Zhang Xiaoliang’s future, He Shuyu probably never planned to tell all.

She only called the police to scare Zhang Tian, so he’d let Xiang Nanzhi go.

But Zhang Tian wasn’t scared.

He Shuyu barely said a few words before Zhang Tian covered her mouth. At that time, Xiang Nanzhi was being forced by Zhang Tian to eat the things she had bought with the cursed red envelope.

So, it all came to nothing.

That night, Zuo Nianchen died too quickly for Xiang Nanzhi to pass on the curse again.

Afterward, Xiang Nanzhi left the building, not reporting to the police—she had no grounds. Zuo Nianchen’s death had nothing to do with Zhang Tian on the surface; at most, she could accuse him of detaining her for several hours, but that was just her word.

It was three days after Zuo Nianchen’s death.

By then, the curse had left Song Zhaoping; He Shuyu would not be affected anymore, and her mental state would gradually recover. Even if she was habitually prone to attacks, if she chose silence, the days of self-harm and madness would be over.

Zhang Xiaoliang could then have a harmonious family—at least on the surface.

But He Shuyu died.

Killed by a dog.

On the seventh night after her death, Jiang Yan had asked about the cause.

She said she wanted to die, so she starved the dog for three days, slit her wrists, used blood to provoke its savagery, and died in silence, torn to death.

As for the reason, Jiang Yan vaguely remembered her words.

—“Guilt and remorse… maybe other feelings too. I’m in pain every day.”

What was she reproaching herself for?

For not stopping Zhang Tian?

For believing Zuo Nianchen died because of her?

Jiang Yan remembered what He Shuyu said in the video and felt she was being too harsh on herself.

People are complex.

He Shuyu wanted Zhang Tian punished yet feared for him; was terrified for Zuo Nianchen’s safety yet feared that telling the police everything would land Zhang Tian in prison.

All she did was for Zhang Xiaoliang to have a better life. Once all settled, she suffered guilt for not trying harder to save Zuo Nianchen.

She was conflicted and in pain.

But after all, who was responsible for Zuo Nianchen’s death?

Her most direct cause—was it not Xiang Nanzhi, who blocked He Shuyu, and Zhang Tian, who wanted only her dead?

He Shuyu’s role was small.

Everyone made mistakes, but hers was the least.

After a long while, Jiang Yan came out of her thoughts.

“I’m full,” she wiped the oil from her mouth, looking at the half-empty tray.

Shen Huanhuan was rinsing her mouth; only Shen Xiaoxiao, like a windstorm, swept up the leftover skewers.

Shen Huanhuan cautioned, “Don’t overdo it.”

Shen Xiaoxiao chewed her sweet potato skins, “Mm hmm, this is nothing—let’s order fried noodles!” She asked, “What next? Should we do Task One?”

Task One was to find the cause of the block building’s recurring energy disturbance.

But when investigating Task Two, they had no clue about this. All the dead in the building had already reincarnated—the only one who hadn’t, Chen Ning, had been scattered by Lin Xinjui three months ago.

Jiang Yan reconfirmed: “Lin Xinjui really destroyed Chen Ning?”

Shen Huanhuan: “Destroyed her. Burned her birth details on talisman paper. Lin Xinjui joined the bureau early on, has scattered countless spirits—almost zero error rate.”

Shen Xiaoxiao added, “Plus the energy detector stabilized afterward, so it’s definitely over.”

Jiang Yan nodded and said no more.

Since Task One gave no clues, she decided to complete Task Two’s logic first.

“Let’s check what Zhu Xinyun did to Chen Ning.”

Specifically: “Let’s find out what Zhu Xinyun did that led Chen Ning to cause Chen Ranyi’s death.”

*

So far, since last October, all anchor points of the curse centred on “mother.”

Cursing mothers, bringing disaster to their children.

And the original curse was constructed by the psychic according to Chen Ning’s intention.

Therefore, Chen Ning wanted to target Zhu Xinyun.

If she just wanted to harm Li Cheng, it wouldn’t have been necessary to curse Zhu Xinyun. Giving Li Cheng a red envelope on his birthday would have been too easy, but cursing Zhu Xinyun required another pretext.

And why did Chen Ning choose this type of curse? The reasonable doubt was that this curse’s content echoed the cause of Chen Ranyi’s death.

Chen Ranyi suffered because of Chen Ning.

But if Chen Ranyi died from accidentally ingesting pesticide left on the table, that would be fully Chen Ning’s fault—no reason to blame Zhu Xinyun.

So Zhu Xinyun must have played a key role in the accident.

It’s not “the victim is to blame,” but since Chen Ning went to such lengths, there had to be a reason—a light or heavy one.

So very likely, it was because of Zhu Xinyun that Chen Ning caused her own daughter’s death.

After Jiang Yan’s analysis, Shen Xiaoxiao raised her hand: “I have an idea!”

Jiang Yan didn’t want to hear it.

Shen Xiaoxiao pouted her oily lips at being ignored.

Shen Huanhuan was supportive: “Alright, what idea?”

“Didn’t Chen Ning buy pesticide with someone else?” Shen Xiaoxiao replied. “Maybe that person was Zhu Xinyun, and she put the pesticide in a drink bottle and gave it to Chen Ning.”

“That fits what Jiang Yan-jie said—because of Zhu Xinyun, Chen Ning killed Chen Ranyi.”

Shen Huanhuan had thought of that, but shook her head: “If Chen Ning was rational at all, she’d know Zhu Xinyun would be blameless—she left pesticide on the table herself, and she chose to buy it with someone else. They were childhood friends—she wouldn’t blame her.”

Jiang Yan agreed.

That wasn’t enough.

If it were so simple, Chen Ning wouldn’t have taken such revenge.

“Alright,” Shen Xiaoxiao stuck out her tongue, put on her mask and hat, and went to pay the bill.

Now the sky was completely dark.

Shen Huanhuan mused, “I’ll go back with you—you can say I forgot something if Auntie Wang asks.”

“Then I’ll go to 303 and ask Zhu Xinyun about details with Chen Ning. If she doesn’t cooperate, I might use my police ID.”

Jiang Yan had no objections.

The closer to the block building, the stronger the stench. Jiang Yan put on her mask too.

When they reached the gate, they met Lin Xinjui heading out.

Lin Xinjui wore headphones, holding trash in one hand and messaging someone with the other. He didn’t seem to notice them—just tossed the trash, made a loud clang, and headed back in.

No one greeted anyone.

Watching his back, Shen Xiaoxiao muttered, “So fierce, so rude. What’s he been up to these days? Feels like nothing. May as well be eliminated.”

“He’s doing things—we just don’t know what,” Shen Huanhuan didn’t think he was idle. “He’s ranked in the top hundred—much higher than us.”

Jiang Yan said, “He’s working on Task One.”

Both turned to her.

Jiang Yan smiled, saying no more.

—Judging by his bloodlust, Lin Xinjui had probably figured out Task One.

*

Seven p.m.

Jiang Yan and Shen Xiaoxiao returned to 604; Shen Huanhuan headed to 303.

Jiang Yan lay on the bed, thinking about how to ask Wang Zhihua about Chen Ning.

She didn’t feel there was anything odd about Lin Xinjui making better progress on Task One, and her having no clue at all.

Lin Xinjui had performed this mission two months ago; even if only investigating without moving in, he had a great advantage. Crucially, only he knew whether he had destroyed Chen Ning at that time and what anomalies there were.

So his faster progress on Task One made total sense and was expected.

But Jiang Yan still didn’t intend to do Task One first.

She wanted to finish Task Two’s logical chain, so no matter his progress, she wouldn’t be eliminated.

Meanwhile, Shen Huanhuan knocked on 303’s door—Zhu Xinyun answered.

“Who is it?” Zhu Xinyun sounded impatient. Li Cheng had probably come home—she was busy with dinner and homework.

“It’s me—the police from this morning.” Shen Huanhuan answered.

“Hey, officer——”

There were hurried footsteps; Zhu Xinyun opened the door.

Her smile was genuine. “How come you’re here? Have you eaten?”

Shen Huanhuan nodded, “Already.”

“Oh, come in, it’s chilly with the night coming.” Zhu Xinyun stepped aside, much warmer than earlier.

Shen Huanhuan felt awkward as she entered, “You don’t need to address me so formally, I’m not that old.”

Her makeup was mature; Zhu Xinyun assumed she was a young policewoman, wiped her hands on her apron, and laughed.

“Then, officer, just wait—I need to serve my kid; I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Shen Huanhuan watched her go, then turned to the scrawny boy not far away.

The flat was tiny with no separate rooms—everything was on display at a glance.

The boy’s scarred face was buried in a bunch of blue roses, his nose gingerly brushing the petals, as lightly as if afraid of waking sleeping butterflies.

Noticing her gaze, the boy hunched his shoulders, hiding in the flowers.

Shen Huanhuan understood now why Zhu Xinyun was so friendly.

She went over and lightly patted Li Cheng’s shoulder.

“Don’t get pricked by the thorns—it’ll hurt.”

Li Cheng didn’t speak. After a long time, he peeked up at her. Shen Huanhuan smiled warmly, “What is it?”

“Did the sister send us these flowers?” Li Cheng’s voice was soft. “Mom said a very gentle sister gave them to us.”

“Thank you for your mother’s kind words,” Shen Huanhuan said sincerely. “These are a gift from me to you.”

Li Cheng’s eyes widened. “A gift for me?”

“Yes, because you’re a little angel who picked purple flowers for Mom,” said Shen Huanhuan.

Li Cheng froze, cheeks turning red.

He fidgeted awkwardly, looking puzzled and shy.

After a moment, as if making up his mind, he slowly raised his face from the roses. “But can I still be an angel like this?”

He looked troubled, “Storybooks say angels are always beautiful.”

“Of course you can,” Shen Huanhuan touched his head. “Storybooks also say angels are strong and brave—aren’t you?”

“I’m super strong!” Li Cheng clenched his soft fists.

“If you can be this brave and strong until your skin heals,” Shen Huanhuan said gently, “there will be really good doctors helping you.”

“They might cut a bit of healthy skin from somewhere and graft it onto your face. It might hurt a lot.”

His eyes brightened, “So all my scars will fly away?”

“They won’t all go, but will fade a lot,” Shen Huanhuan leaned closer, showing with her fingers, “You’d have to get this close to even see them.”

Li Cheng grinned in delight.

And at that moment, behind them, came the sound of sobbing.

Shen Huanhuan turned and saw Zhu Xinyun, face covered and weeping. Shen Huanhuan had watched her full hospital surveillance footage and seen her collapse—she was not a bad person.

Zhu Xinyun shook her head hopelessly: “I’ve checked into facial graft surgery—the cost is just too high. We could never afford it…”

Shen Huanhuan replied directly: “I’ll pay.”

Zhu Xinyun’s words choked—she stared at Shen Huanhuan in disbelief. “What?”

“I’ll cover it,” Shen Huanhuan said, “all I need is for you to cooperate with me for half an hour.”