He attacked the wrong mountain (8)
Wei Shengqianheng nodded slightly, which was considered a formality of greeting.
Shu Ningmiao didn't know when they had become so familiar with each other—
Yu didn't appear during the last superpower practice.
It wasn't surprising that Shi Yu, who accompanied Madame Grana to various events, got to know the Holy Son of the Church of Praise, but she still felt a little strange.
Wei Shengqianheng sat down on her other side quite naturally. The children climbed onto his lap and rubbed their faces against his white robe. He showed no disgust whatsoever. Instead, he gently stroked the children's heads with his fingertips.
His demeanor didn't seem feigned; he genuinely didn't mind the children's appearance or the dirt.
If you want to know why Shu Ningmiao knows, just compare her to Shi Yu next to her and you'll see.
Upon closer reflection, it seems that Wei Shengqianheng has always had the same expression, and it's pretty much the same with everyone.
"It's rare to see you." Wei Shengqianheng didn't exchange pleasantries with Shi Yu, but instead asked her first, "Aren't you busy lately?"
Although she doesn't have the time management skills of a master like Weston, she's not particularly busy either, so why does everyone she meets seem to be very busy?
Despite the two attacks, in Shu Ningmiao's eyes, things that had already been resolved were no big deal.
"It's you who's hard to see, isn't it?"
Shu Ningmiao had previously suspected that he was a "neural connection" ability user. He had been staying in the church and not coming to school. Now that she had found the real person behind him, she was in no hurry to test him again: "When do you plan to go back to school for the next ability practice?"
“What’s taught in school is meaningless.” Wei Shengqianheng looked down at the children, his eyes gentle: “People are more important than knowledge.”
String Light Academy doesn't have religious classes, so his words make some sense, but Shu Ningmiao doesn't know how this semi-illiterate man could have the nerve to say such things.
If that's the case, what's the point of him enrolling in Xian Guang?
His status as a holy son guarantees him lifelong glory; he doesn't need to use schools to gild his resume.
“We’ll leave as soon as we finish eating; the later we stay, the less safe it will be.” Shi Yu interrupted their conversation, which was unusual for her. She handed the book to Shu Ningmiao and shook her head imperceptibly.
This was their code, usually indicating that he wanted to get away.
Shu Ningmiao only wanted to observe the situation in the new place and had no intention of going out to inquire about information. She simply nodded when she heard this.
Wei Shengqianheng did not try to stop him; his gaze lingered for a moment longer before he calmly looked away.
The orphanage director brought over the usual meal: a half-new, half-old plate filled with a thin, runny porridge that looked like a mixture of many different kinds of beans, cooked until very soft and mushy—to put it bluntly, it looked like a pile of freshly made vomit.
The children ate with great enjoyment. Shu Ningmiao took a bite; the bean paste had sugar in it, and the sweetness was enough to make them happy.
When she put down her spoon, she realized that the atmosphere around her was so quiet it was almost suffocating. Wei Shengqianheng was sitting to her right, and Shi Yu was sitting to her left. Both of them were extremely quiet, with only the sound of the bowls and spoons rattling. No one spoke first.
Shu Ningmiao never paid attention to other people's feelings, and turned to Wei Shengqianheng, asking, "Do you know where I can buy scarabs?"
Both of them looked up at her at the same time.
Wei Shengqianheng's brow twitched slightly, as if in surprise: "You want scarabs... there are plenty outside, so why are you asking me?"
"Just asking," Shu Ningmiao replied casually.
The reason why the person on the forum mentioned a folk remedy for treating strange diseases called "Holy Beetle" and the name of Wei Sheng Qian Heng, "Holy Son," both contain words that express holiness.
Naming often follows certain patterns and has specific meanings. If the scarab beetle truly exists, Shu Ningmiao guesses that its name must be related to some religion.
Wei Shengqianheng happened to be there, so she asked.
She has always felt that if something might succeed, it's worth a try as long as there are no downsides.
Wei Shengqianheng led her to the backyard of the orphanage, gently picked up a round, black insect and placed it in his palm. He lightly pressed his fingertips against the insect's back, and the startled insect's hind wings trembled incessantly.
Shu Ningmiao didn't take it, but let him hold it down: "Isn't this a dung beetle?"
She had never heard of scarabs, but she knew about dung beetles. Dung beetles were a relatively common insect in Pines, but no one in the Lord would call them scarabs.
“Because the people here in the new land call it the scarab beetle,” said Wei Shengqianheng. “This is a term that comes from the Intoli. It’s a translation of ‘KHepri,’ meaning rebirth and creation.”
Shu Ningmiao observed the insect in his hand for a moment but found nothing special about it: "Then do you dry this kind of insect, mix it with water, and swallow it?"
"--newborn."
He seemed to already know why Shu Ningmiao had asked this question, and with a long sigh, he uttered a single word: "Many people will take it as a folk remedy because it represents new life, hoping to escape their suffering."
Shu Ningmiao stared at him: "Are there many people like this?"
Wei Shengqianheng turned to look at her, his inorganic black pupils showing no fluctuation: "They are just as many as those who pray for holy water and seek herbs, but in fact, nothing can save them."
From the moment she discovered that forum, Shu Ningmiao guessed that Yelü Qi was not the only one suffering from this disease, but she never expected that Wei Shengqianheng would mention so many people without making a fuss.
Shu Ningmiao pressed him: "Do you know what disease those people have?"
“This is not an illness.” Wei Shengqianheng put his fingertip to his lips: “Everyone who has been to the hospital will be told this by the doctor: this is not an illness.”
"Therefore, we cannot call it a 'disease' either."
“A small group of people in the new land call this disease Manla disease—Manla is another name for Pandora in the Intori language, and they say it this way to avoid being detected by the Pigne government.”
He said, “At first, those people were just dizzy and drowsy. Gradually, due to different physical conditions, they would develop symptoms of poisoning, fainting, mania, and mental confusion—in the later stages, they coughed up blood and their bodies began to rot.”
"But regardless of the stage, the most obvious characteristic is that the patient's blood will turn black, which can be distinguished by observing the color of the blood vessels."
"We can take these people in, but we can't cure them."
He turned his palm in another direction: "There's a church shelter nearby; you can go see it if you want."
Shu Ningmiao could never have imagined what the scene inside this cramped shelter was like.
The cramped, makeshift shack was filled with the pungent smell of boiled herbs, and the men and women lying together exuded an unmistakable stench.
If someone hadn't moved, she wouldn't have been able to tell whether it was a corpse or a living person.
She roughly counted and found that there were nearly thirty people, more than she had imagined.
Some people look no different from normal people, except that their complexion is a little bad; some people's bodies are like inflated balloons, swollen and bloated; and the source of that fishy smell is the third type of people, whose bodies are covered with black ulcers, with rotten flesh turning into pus that keeps dripping black liquid.
Just like... the contaminants she saw in the practical simulation.
In textbooks, the black liquid flowing from the bodies of pollutants is called their blood, but the black liquid flowing from these humans is also their former blood.
Her long-held suspicions were now confirmed without any doubt.
Alan can prove that people can be corrupted.
What about the people here? Will they also become contaminated?
No, if these people were to become contaminated, the authorities would definitely have to deploy troops to suppress them; it's impossible for them to remain silent like this.
What will they do?
"I will die."
The two characters "微生千衡" are light and airy, like the wind brushing across the water's surface, leaving no trace.
Shi Yu gently pulled her closer to his side from Wei Sheng Qian Heng's side: "Let's go, it's getting late."
——
Each lost in their own thoughts, Shu Ningmiao and Shi Yu remained unusually silent on the way back.
At a glance, there were many people suffering from "Mandla disease," which made her subconsciously somewhat incredulous—if so many people really died from this disease, and were in a state similar to that of the contaminant, how could Pigne have kept the news so well hidden?
But upon closer reflection, she realized she had fallen into a misconception.
A single shelter belonging to the Church of the Singing can hold at most forty-odd people. Even if the Church of the Singing could open shelters all over the new land, there would only be tens of thousands of patients at most. These tens of thousands are too insignificant compared to the population of Pines, which is over a billion. Some people may never meet a person suffering from Manla disease in their entire lives.
There is a theory called "survivorship bias," which states that most people only see the filtered information, not the process of filtering.
The survivors made their voices, but the survivors could no longer speak.
Dead people cannot speak.
She felt that there were many people suffering from this disease, but it was only in a short period of time that she saw a lot of patients. Before that, did she have any sense of anything unusual about the country where she had lived for more than ten years?
Everything seemed to have changed when she entered String Optics and obtained the game chip "Secret Love." Prometheus's deliberate intervention also played a part; if they hadn't intentionally accelerated Yeluqi's illness, she wouldn't have discovered the connection.
Shu Ningmiao had almost figured out what had happened.
Shi Yu noticed her change of posture, and sensitively turned her gaze over, sighing softly: "Whatever you want to do, I only advise you that it is not wise."
When people see the ugliness beneath the glamorous stage, what they hate is often not the ugliness itself, but the hand that lifts the curtain.
Shi Yu turned her gaze back to the window: "Just like Prometheus."
"You're overthinking it." Shu Ningmiao cracked her knuckles. "I'm not so idle as to go against the government."
Courage, kindness, and justice—there are many who would be willing to sacrifice themselves for these qualities; she is not an exception.
All she needs to care about is her own life.
"Stop the car." Shu Ningmiao released her fingers and gave the order to the church staff who looked confused and didn't understand what they were talking about.
The church member paused, then frantically searched for the stop button: "Why?"
"Because we've been followed ever since we left the orphanage."
Shu Ningmiao reached out and opened the sunroof. Ever since she was followed by Prometheus last time, she had made a point of learning about counter-tracking techniques, so she was particularly sensitive to what was behind her: "Didn't you notice? The headlights in the rearview mirror are reflecting light, and the shape hasn't changed."
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