Chapter 82
Three days later, in the afternoon, the sunlight still generously filled every corner of the "Cloud Top Studio," coating the edges of the cold monitoring equipment with a warm halo. A subtle tension, unlike anything before, permeated the air, like a transparent film being gently stretched taut.
Lin Xiaoyu was the first to arrive, carrying her ever-bulging canvas bag. As soon as she entered, her eyes sparkled as she looked around. "Wow, today feels different! Is it because my senior asked us to bring our little ones?" She patted her bag and lowered her voice mysteriously, "I brought something really meaningful! I guarantee you'll be amazed!"
The original owner, Shi Ye, who followed her in, looked even paler than before, her eyes filled with a bewilderment mixed with obvious anxiety. Her hands were empty, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes, her lips tightly pressed together. She was clearly at a loss regarding the requirement of "meaningful little objects," and perhaps even under some kind of implicit pressure.
Teacher Wang greeted her gently and reassured her softly, "Ms. Shi, don't be nervous. It's just a small sharing session. If you don't have anything you particularly want to bring, or haven't found anything suitable, it's perfectly fine. Looking at other people's things, or chatting with them, is all good."
Su Xiao (Shi Ye) arrived at almost the same time as Teacher Wang. She wore a light blue cotton shirt, her hair loosely tied in a bun at the back of her head, with a few stray strands falling beside her neck, looking both neat and professional. In her hand, she carried a simple off-white canvas file bag, which seemed to contain some documents, and a small, square object, about the size of a palm, wrapped in dark blue cotton cloth. Her expression was calm; she gave Lin Xiaoyu a polite smile in response to her exclamation, and when her gaze swept over the tense-looking original owner of the body, Shi Ye, it paused almost imperceptibly for a moment before naturally shifting away.
She had, of course, received Qi Jin's new request through "Tracing the Light." When she heard the request to "provide a small item that holds special meaning for her," the "survival alert" string in her heart instantly stretched to its limit. Qi Jin was testing her. This test could be directed at everyone, but she instinctively knew she was the key.
What should I bring? As "Su Xiao," a 23-year-old art history student from a well-off family, with smooth academic progress and an ordinary life, what "special" items should I bring? Graduation souvenirs? Small mementos brought back from a trip? Tickets to an important exhibition? These are all acceptable, but they are also the easiest to appear deliberate and lack genuine emotional weight.
Ultimately, she chose a faded metal bookmark, its edges slightly worn, tucked inside an old art magazine belonging to "Su Xiao." The bookmark was simply shaped like an abstract feather. It was a gift from her Chinese teacher, a private encouragement after she won a writing competition in junior high. The teacher had said, "Your writing is like a feather; it looks light, yet it can fly to unexpected places." For the teenage "Su Xiao," these words and the bookmark did indeed represent a vague encouragement about the future and expression. It was personal enough, not empty, yet safe and unassuming, avoiding any dangerous associations.
She carefully wrapped it in a clean, dark blue cotton cloth and placed it in a document bag. She also brought several printed copies of materials on the theoretical basis of "objects and memory," just in case, demonstrating her professionalism.
In the control room, Secretary Li was already in place. Qi Jin, however, did not appear during the event as he had last time. But Su Xiao could sense that those eyes were fixed on everything happening behind a screen, with an even greater focus than before.
At the start of the activity, Ms. Wang guided everyone to sit around in the softly carpeted rest area. She briefly reiterated the "voluntary and stress-free" principle of this sharing session and then shared a small personal item—a turquoise ring that had been with her for many years, its smooth surface worn smooth by time. It was a gift from her mentor when she first began learning art therapy. "It reminds me that the healing process is like polishing a stone; it requires patience and time, and eventually, its inner luster will be revealed," Ms. Wang said. Her sharing was sincere and peaceful, setting a safe tone.
Lin Xiaoyu couldn't contain herself any longer. As soon as Teacher Wang finished speaking, she eagerly opened the canvas bag and carefully took out a... transparent plastic snack box? Inside were not jewelry or souvenirs, but several pieces of clay of different colors and crooked shapes... and a small tuft of light gray cashmere yarn.
"Look!" Lin Xiaoyu's eyes lit up as she opened the box like she was showing off a treasure. "These are the little white stones that Sister Shiye arranged last time! I made bases for them with clay. Look, don't they look like two little snow mountains? And this," she picked up a tuft of cashmere yarn, "I carefully took it off that piece of cloth last time. I was thinking that maybe I could wrap it around something as decoration later! And also, this flat piece of clay, it's the one Sister Shiye sculpted for the first time! I kept them all!"
She showed off these things that others might consider "junk" or "leftovers," her face beaming with pure joy and appreciation: "They're so meaningful! They represent the first and second time we played together! They're my 'collection box of wonderful memories'!"
This unexpected "collection" instantly eased the previously tense atmosphere. Teacher Wang couldn't help but chuckle, and Su Xiao's lips also curled up slightly. Even the original owner of the body, Shi Ye, who had been keeping her head down, couldn't help but look up at the familiar yet unfamiliar "trinkets" in the box, a faint look of confusion flashing in her eyes, as if she couldn't understand why these things would be collected with such solemnity.
Behind the control room, Qi Jin's gaze fell on the transparent plastic box on the screen. Looking at the rough clay "snow mountains" and a small tuft of cashmere yarn inside, a complex mix of emotions flickered in his cold eyes. Lin Xiaoyu… always managed to touch upon certain emotions she herself hadn't yet fully grasped in the most direct and unguarded way. These "traces," unintentionally created by Shi Ye (the original owner) and carefully preserved by Lin Xiaoyu, were like a mirror, reflecting a… forgotten, perhaps inherently warm connection.
"Xiaoyu is very thoughtful," Teacher Wang praised with a smile, then turned her gentle gaze to the original owner of the body, Shi Ye, "Miss Shi, what about you? Is there anything you'd like to share? Or, what are your thoughts on seeing Xiaoyu's collection?"
All eyes were on the original owner of this body, Shi Ye. She seemed to be bound by an invisible pressure, her body slightly shrinking back, her fingers tightly gripping the hem of her clothes. Her lips moved a few times before she uttered a voice barely audible: "I...I don't have anything...I don't remember..." She stared blankly at the contents of Lin Xiaoyu's box, "Those...did I do that? I...I don't think so..."
Her confusion and denial were like a bucket of cold water poured on Lin Xiaoyu's enthusiastic flame. Lin Xiaoyu's excitement faded slightly, and she blinked somewhat helplessly: "Sister Shi, it was you who did it... It's okay if you forgot, I'll remember!"
Su Xiao's heart sank slightly. The original owner's reaction once again confirmed her memory gaps and emotional detachment. In Qi Jin's eyes, this was probably yet another piece of evidence of "unreality."
Teacher Wang quickly smoothed things over, "It's alright, Ms. Shi, it's normal not to remember. We'll take it slowly." She looked at Su Xiao, "Assistant Su, what about you? Would you like to share?"
The focus shifted to Su Xiao. She could sense that everyone behind the screen was now watching the dark blue cloth bag in her hand.
Su Xiao took a deep breath, a gentle, slightly nostalgic smile appearing on her face. She slowly opened her cloth bag, took out the faded, feather-shaped metal bookmark, and held it in her palm. "I brought an old bookmark," she said, her voice clear and steady. "It was a gift from my Chinese teacher in junior high. She said my writing was like a feather—light, but capable of flying far." She paused, her gaze falling on the worn edge of the bookmark. "Actually, my writing didn't fly very far afterward; instead, I ended up studying art history by chance. But I've kept this bookmark, perhaps… as a memento of 'possibility.' A reminder to myself that even if I don't ultimately fly very high, at least I was once expected to succeed, and I tried."
Her sharing was sincere and understated, carrying a touch of youthful reminiscence befitting her age. It perfectly matched the experience and emotional depth expected of the persona "Su Xiao." There were no outrageous words or potentially suggestive phrases.
In the control room, Qi Jin stared intently at the screen. She looked at the ordinary, faded feather bookmark in Su Xiao's palm, listening to her straightforward narration. It was all too normal, too reasonable, like a meticulously crafted, flawless essay.
But why... did the thorn of doubt in her heart not soften, but instead pierce even deeper?
Was it because of Su Xiao's overly calm tone and overly controlled body language while she was speaking? Was it because of the bookmark itself, which, although reasonable, always gave the impression of... deliberately choosing the safest answer?
Or was it because, subconsciously, she was expecting (or rather, fearing) that Su Xiao would come up with something more... impactful, something that could better confirm her crazy guesses?
Qi Jin's fingertips tapped unconsciously on the edge of the control panel. There was no evidence, only intuition. And her intuition had rarely failed her in countless business battles and crises.
After Su Xiao finished sharing, she wrapped the bookmark back in the cloth and put it back in the file bag. Her movements were calm and composed, as if she had completed an ordinary task.
Teacher Wang summarized at the right moment, steer the discussion towards a broader topic of "objects carrying memories and emotions." Lin Xiaoyu became lively again, chattering about the "treasures she had collected." The original owner, Shi Ye, remained silent, but seemed to relax a little now that the most difficult part, "sharing," was over.
The event continued in an atmosphere that appeared peaceful but was actually rife with undercurrents. Su Xiao played the role of a competent assistant, occasionally adding a few anecdotes from art history or helping Teacher Wang pass on materials.
She seemed to have completely embraced the identity of "Su Xiao" and handled the situation with ease.
Only she knew that the back of her clothes, under the ample cold air from the central air conditioning, was already soaked with a thin layer of cold sweat.
She seemed to have passed Qi Jin's first test safely.
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