Chapter 71
The monitor screen went dark, and the studio returned to a silent blank. Qi Jin, however, remained standing in front of the stand, his gaze fixed on the now-black screen, as if he could still see the unfinished, crooked white circle, and the pale left hand holding the white stone.
Hands are faster than brains.
She pondered Su Xiao's words repeatedly, an almost obsessive desire to explore stirring beneath her frozen rationality. Forgetting can be faked, words can be carefully crafted, but what about those habits and reactions etched into the body's instincts, so subtle that even the person themselves might not be aware of them? In a completely relaxed (or absent-minded) state, when faced with highly malleable materials that require tactile and three-dimensional spatial perception, will those buried fragments of "self" quietly peek out?
She needs more precise observation.
Qi Jin sat back in her office chair and dialed another encrypted internal line. This time it wasn't Secretary Li, but a top neuropsychology and behavioral analysis consultant with whom she had a long-term working relationship and a strict confidentiality agreement.
“Dr. Chen, I need to design a non-invasive, micro-behavioral observation program based on art media.” Qi Jin got straight to the point, his voice regaining its absolute calm. “Target: Individuals suspected of post-traumatic memory disorder. Materials: Safe clay or polymer clay. Observation focus: Tactile preferences (response to humidity, temperature, and texture), pressure application patterns (uniformity, changes in force, repeated pressing of specific areas), unconscious shaping tendencies (tendency towards geometric shapes, organic shapes, or complete lack of structural destruction), left- and right-hand coordination and dominance, and… whether there are repetitive, subtle gestures or shaping symbols that may be related to the individual’s past.”
She paused for a moment, then added, "Pay special attention to instinctive reactions when task instructions are vague, attention is scattered, or there are minor, irrelevant distractions."
Dr. Chen on the other end of the phone quickly jotted down the requirements, without asking much about the target's identity. He meticulously confirmed a few technical details and then offered his advice: "You can set up a few simple, non-verbal 'triggering scenarios,' such as 'sculpt something that makes you feel calm,' 'change the shape of this clay in five minutes, anything goes,' or something more vague like 'spend some time with it.' The focus of observation should be on the initial reaction delay, micro-expressions and body language during the process, rather than the final product. If needed, I can remotely access real-time monitoring for preliminary coding analysis."
“Okay.” Qi Jin agreed. “Once the next event date is confirmed, the data and access will be synchronized with you. The analysis report only needs to tell me about the anomalies and potential connections; no psychological diagnosis is required.”
"clear."
After hanging up the phone, Qi Jin rubbed her aching right shoulder. She looked at the darkening sky outside the window, and her left hand reached into her pocket again. The cold metal and jade that her fingertips touched seemed to carry a faint warmth from another time and space.
Clay. Shaping. Instinct.
If... if this really is the time of the bombing, even just finding a tiny trace of what happened before it was blown up...
If this isn't...
A cold, sharp glint flashed in her eyes. Qin Ming's remaining forces hadn't been eradicated, and any "coincidence" involving Shi Ye could be a new trap. This Su Xiao, with a background so clean it seemed unreal, had appeared at such "perfect timing." And then there was Shi Ye's empty, bewildered expression, and the occasional, chilling glint of fear...
She needs to see things more clearly.
---
(Three days later, "Cloud Peak Studio" held its second event)
Lin Xiaoyu's arrival was like a drop of honey into lukewarm water, instantly softening the overly clean and cold atmosphere of the studio. She was wearing a pale yellow sweatshirt and carrying a bulging canvas bag. As soon as she entered, she exclaimed excitedly, "Sister Shi! Su Xiao! Teacher Wang! I'm here! Wow, the view from here is amazing! Seriously, senior, you found such a great spot and didn't tell me sooner!"
As she spoke, she casually put down her bag and pulled out several cute little boxes: "I brought some delicious treats! Low-sugar cookies and handmade nougat! You can replenish your energy if you're tired!" Then she pulled out an eye mask and a pair of fluffy earplugs, "These are for Sister Shiye. She can use them if she finds the lights too bright or wants some peace and quiet!"
Her vibrant appearance made the original owner of this body, Shi Ye, who was initially a little nervous, unable to help but look up at her a couple more times. The corners of her mouth curved slightly before she quickly pursed them.
Su Xiao smiled as she accepted the "supplies" brought by Lin Xiaoyu, but inwardly she became even more wary. While Lin Xiaoyu's arrival could certainly lighten the mood and lower Shi Ye's guard, it also meant that an uncontrollable, emotionally charged variable had been added to the surveillance footage. Moreover, her constant use of "senior sister" subtly emphasized Qi Jin's presence.
Teacher Wang smiled and thanked Lin Xiaoyu, then guided everyone to look at today's main subject—several large boxes of unopened professional-grade safe clay placed in the center of the creation table, along with some simple wooden sculpting tools. The clay was the most natural light terracotta color.
"Miss Shi, Xiaoyu, let's play with this today." Teacher Wang's voice was gentle. "There are no requirements, no right or wrong. You can tear off a piece, squeeze it however you like, and feel its softness and elasticity. You can also try these tools, or just use your hands. You can shape it however you want. If you don't want to shape it halfway through, you can knead it off and start over, or you can leave it alone and look at it."
The original owner of this body looked at the clay, and a familiar look of bewilderment and a hint of fear returned to her eyes. She reached out and carefully touched the plastic packaging of one of the clay boxes; the cold touch made her flinch.
Lin Xiaoyu had already rolled up her sleeves and excitedly opened a box, scooping out a large piece: "Wow, it feels so good! Sister Shiye, shall we make some little animals? Or maybe a bowl? I used to be terrible at pottery, and every time I baked something, it came out weirdly shaped, haha!"
She tried to infect Shi Ye with her clumsy enthusiasm.
Following Qi Jinfang's (through Secretary Li's) instructions, Su Xiao calmly outlined several open-ended "optional tasks" before starting: "Ms. Shi, if you don't know where to begin, you can try: First, close your eyes, randomly pinch a piece of clay, and feel how it changes in your hand; second, try to pinch a very simple geometric shape, such as a sphere or a cube; third, or, just imagine what 'peace' or 'safety' looks or feels like, and try to express that feeling a little bit with clay. Of course, you can also just do none of these and randomly pinch clay along with Xiaoyu."
The options she provided actually implicitly contained the "triggering context" suggested by Dr. Chen, especially the third one, which carried a certain emotional and abstract association.
In the control room, Secretary Li wore headphones, and in front of her was a secondary screen displaying physiological data fluctuations (connected to several concealed sensors in the studio, monitoring heart rate and skin conductance). Dr. Chen's encrypted audio line was also connected.
In his office, Qi Jin had a screen divided into multiple sections, including the main image, close-up shots of Shi Ye's hands, and side views of Lin Xiaoyu and Su Xiao.
The event has begun.
Lin Xiaoyu quickly sculpted a crooked, oddly shaped creature that resembled both a rabbit and a dog, and she was overjoyed. Her presence did indeed ease some of the tension, and Shi Ye seemed less stiff.
Shi Ye imitated Lin Xiaoyu, tearing off a small piece of clay and placing it in her palm. She first gently poked it with her fingertips, leaving a few small dents, then slowly closed her palm, feeling the soft resistance of the clay being squeezed. Her movements were slow, her brows slightly furrowed, as if she were conducting an extremely precise yet utterly unfamiliar experiment.
"How are you feeling?" Teacher Wang asked softly.
“…It’s a little cool and soft,” Shi Ye replied softly, her palm unconsciously and slowly kneading the clay. Her movements were initially haphazard, but gradually, Dr. Chen in the observation room and Qi Jin in front of the screen noticed that her right thumb began to press one side of the clay repeatedly with a specific, even force, as if trying to flatten or shape it into a smooth arc.
Meanwhile, her left hand fingers, unconsciously and extremely subtly, were making delicate, almost sketching or smoothing motions along the opposite edge of the clay. The rhythm of the movement and the angle of her fingertips…
Qi Jin leaned forward slightly.
Many years ago, in the photos she secretly took and the observations she made from a distance, she noticed that when Shi Ye was sketching or tidying the edges of her drawing paper, her right hand would hold the pen or tools, while her left hand would often unconsciously and gently stroke the edge of the paper or drawing board, her fingertips carrying a unique, delicate force. It was a small habit she herself might not have been aware of when she was focused.
And now, on the clay, that almost identical, subtle left-hand stroking motion has been reproduced.
Is it a coincidence? Or is it the unconscious revival of muscle memory?
Shi Ye seemed unaware of the "division of labor" between her hands. All her attention seemed to be focused on the piece of clay in her palm that was being gradually molded into an irregular, flat, round, thick sheet. She stared at it, her eyes still blank, but the movements of her hands became increasingly focused, even obsessive and continuous.
After Lin Xiaoyu finished kneading her "four-legged creature," she leaned over to look and asked, "Sister Shi Ye, what are you kneading? A cookie? Or a small plate?"
Shi Ye stopped abruptly when she asked him the question, as if he had suddenly woken up. Looking at the flat, round clay piece in his hand, a trace of panic flashed across his face: "I...I don't know..."
She instinctively wanted to rub it off.
"Don't rub it! Don't rub it!" Lin Xiaoyu quickly stopped her. "It looks pretty! It's flat and round, very neat! How about we add a small handle to it and turn it into a cup? Or we can use it as the base and add something else on top?"
Su Xiao spoke up at the right moment, her voice calm: "You don't have to add it if you don't want to. Just leave it as is and look at it. It's fine. It's the trace left by what your fingers wanted to do in those few minutes."
Shi Ye's hand paused. She looked at the flat, round piece of clay, then at her fingers covered in clay fragments, and for the first time, her eyes showed an emotion other than bewilderment and timidity—a very faint confusion that even she herself might not understand, and... a subtle concern for the "mark" itself that was almost impossible to detect.
She didn't rub it away, but gently placed it on the table.
In the control room, Dr. Chen's voice came through the earpiece in a low voice: "Without explicit instructions, the subject exhibits an unconscious tendency toward regular geometric shapes (flattened ovals). The hand movements show an asymmetrical but coordinated pattern, and the stroking motion of the left hand has personalized characteristics that are worth noting. When socially interrupted, the subject shows obvious behavioral disruption and mild anxiety, but unexpectedly shows a tendency to retain established 'traces,' which may suggest a potential need for 'creations' or 'proof of existence.'"
As Qi Jin listened to the analysis, his gaze was fixed on the solitary, light terracotta-colored, flat, round clay piece on the screen.
Flattened round.
It doesn't look like a plate, nor does it look like a cookie.
It's somewhat like... an overly flattened, rough... pearl?
Or perhaps... a rough, unrefined... prototype of a safety buckle?
The moment this thought popped into his head, Qi Jin's left hand, which was in his pocket, tightened abruptly, the real, warm jade safety buckle digging painfully into his palm.
She looked at the screen and saw her fingers, covered in clay and trembling slightly.
Looking at that simple, flat, round piece of clay.
Looking at Lin Xiaoyu's carefree smiling face beside him.
And then there's Su Xiao, who always maintains the perfect distance.
Beneath the ice, turbulent currents surge.
The cracks seemed to be spreading silently.
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