Chapter 81

The stubborn coldness of the glass beneath her fingertips couldn't extinguish the increasingly raging, chaotic flames within her heart. Qi Jin abruptly withdrew her hand, as if stung by the chill. She turned and left the floor-to-ceiling window, her steps quickening as she walked toward the hidden mini-fridge in the corner of the studio—which usually only contained bottled water and simple drinks for guests.

She needed something cool to cool down her overheated mind, or... to give that restless energy a real foothold.

The refrigerator door opened, and a blast of cold air rushed out. Inside, as expected, were only a few bottles of Evian and a small, unopened carton of… milk? Qi Jin's movements froze. Milk? Who prepared this? Secretary Li? She never drinks this. Teacher Wang? Su Xiao?

Her gaze fell on the carton of milk, a pure white cardboard box with a simple label, looking utterly ordinary. Yet, this ordinary carton of milk, like a tiny needle, unexpectedly pierced a soft, yet cracked corner of her memory.

In the kitchen late at night, the warm yellow light shone, the microwave dinged softly, and the air was filled with the sweet, warm aroma of milk. Shi Ye, dressed in pajamas, pale-faced but with calm (or perhaps numb) eyes, held a glass of milk, said "thank you" to her, or said nothing at all, just quietly finished drinking it, and then went upstairs.

That was a scene that occasionally occurred before the explosion, when Shi Ye was staying at her house. She remembered always standing at the kitchen doorway, watching Shi Ye's profile as she sipped milk, a subtle, unfamiliar tenderness welling up inside her. She wanted to go closer, to ask if she was still feeling unwell, to... do something. But in the end, she just watched silently, and then, as Shi Ye put down her cup, calmly said, "Get some rest."

Looking back now, those late-night milks, those silent gazes, those concerns carefully suppressed beneath a cold exterior, concerns that even she herself couldn't clearly recognize, were perhaps among the few cracks in her five-year-long silent unrequited love that allowed her to glimpse the light of day.

Now, Shi Ye (the original owner) has returned, but he seems to have lost his soul, looking at her with only fear and unfamiliarity. The brief but real warm connection represented by that carton of milk seems to have vanished completely with that explosion.

Qi Jin's fingers hovered in the cold air of the refrigerator. After a long while, instead of getting water, she inexplicably took out the carton of milk. The carton was cold, carrying the unique chill of the refrigerator. Holding it, she walked to the kitchen island, found a small saucepan, and poured the milk into it.

She lit the fire, and the blue flames quietly licked the bottom of the pot. She watched as the milky white liquid gradually rippled in the pot, with barely perceptible bubbles rising from the edges. She didn't add sugar, nor did she watch it heat up to the perfect temperature as she remembered. She simply watched, watched the steam slowly rise, and the aroma of milk gradually spread—a familiar, comfortingly sweet scent that once again filled the empty, cold studio.

This atmosphere enveloped her, overlapping with images of the kitchen in her memory, and intertwining with the gentle profile of Su Xiao stroking a cat on a street corner at dusk. A strong, almost schizophrenic sense of absurdity gripped her.

Su Xiao possesses some deeply ingrained habits from her time of the night (the way she feeds cats, the way she holds a pen with her toes).

The original owner, bearing the face and identity of a contemporary, but having lost all his core and memories.

And then there's herself, clutching old keepsakes, trapped in doubt and pain, trying to piece together the truth from a jumble of contradictory fragments… an observer? A participant? Or a victim?

The milk was heated quickly, with tiny bubbles forming around the edges. Qi Jin turned off the heat and poured the milk into a clean glass. She didn't drink it, but simply held the warm glass in her hands, feeling the heat travel through the glass to her palms, slightly dispelling the coldness from her fingertips.

She carried the milk back to the control panel. She didn't sit down, but stood there, her gaze fixed on the now-blacked-out monitor screen. The screen was dark, reflecting only her blurry image of herself holding the milk cup, against the backdrop of an empty room.

She was thinking of Su Xiao.

Instead of thinking with scrutiny and skepticism, it's about trying to...understand.

If Su Xiao isn't an enemy, if those familiar feelings aren't imitations… why would a 23-year-old art history graduate have those habits? Let's assume… just assume, these habits are innate, or acquired under some circumstances she herself is unaware of? Then, is there some connection between her and Shi Ye that transcends ordinary understanding? Twins? Separated sisters? Some strange, unscientific event involving memory or personality… scientific or unscientific?

This thought sent chills down Qi Jin's spine. It was too bizarre, beyond the realm of her rational understanding. She was more inclined to believe that this was a meticulously planned conspiracy by Qin Ming.

But... what if?

What if this involves something deeper, darker, and more unimaginable than commercial retaliation?

What if Su Xiao's appearance and Shi Ye's "resurrection" are two fragments of the same giant puzzle?

The steam from the milk rose before her eyes, blurring her reflection on the screen. She felt a deep weariness, not just physical, but also mental. Like someone who had wandered too long in a dark maze, thinking they had seen the light at the exit, only to find it was another mirror reflecting even more forks in the road and deeper darkness.

She couldn't break down, she couldn't lose her way. Qin Ming was still lurking in the shadows, Shi Ye (the original owner of this body) was unstable, and Su Xiao was a huge variable. She had to stay clear-headed and maintain control.

Perhaps… she needs to treat Su Xiao differently. Not just with suspicion and investigation, but also… with observation and probing, but in a more open and approachable way. Since Su Xiao has taken the initiative to approach this “healing project,” then within this framework, she should give her more opportunities to express herself “naturally.”

For example, for the next event, could we prepare some more personal materials that might be linked to deep memories or emotions? Or, could we create a more relaxed environment that requires more improvisation?

And then there's the original owner of this body, Shi Ye… She also seems to have a subtle reaction towards Su Xiao, a mixture of dependence and repulsion. That's interesting. Perhaps we could subtly probe Lin Xiaoyu to see if she's noticed anything.

Qi Jin placed the now-cooled milk glass on the control panel. The glass made a crisp, soft sound as it struck the surface.

She had a preliminary plan. It was still fraught with risk, still built on a foundation of skepticism, but at least it was no longer a completely passive defense.

She took out her phone and sent a message to Secretary Li: "Notify 'Tracing the Light' that the next event will be held in three days from now. Regarding the materials preparation, please add one item: Participants (including Assistant Su) are requested to provide a small item that has special meaning to them, but does not need to be expensive or private, for a simple sharing and exchange about 'objects and memories'. Emphasis should be placed on voluntariness and no pressure."

A small item with special significance.

Su Xiao, what will you bring?

Qi Jin walked to the window and slowly poured the already cooled milk into the sink. The milky white liquid swirled and disappeared down the drain, like some irretrievable past.

But new mysteries and clues are quietly emerging with the sound of water flowing in the sewers.

Night has fallen, but the city remains awake.

A more subtle test, conducted under surveillance and ostensibly for "healing," is about to begin.