Wanting
The Memory Master's hand reaching out to Malice paused.
After pausing for only a moment, she quickly pulled out the book and flipped through it quickly.
After a quick look, it turned out to be a very ordinary book called "Malice", no different from any she had read before.
In the short few minutes that she was flipping through the book, the sound of pulling the doorknob outside became more and more anxious. The sound had turned into a banging sound on the door, and even the door frame was shaking.
This actually made the illusionist feel at ease. All this only proved that there was a person outside the door, not something with supernatural powers.
The memory artist returned everything on the desk to its original place according to the eyebrow pencil markings.
She wiped off the traces of eyebrow pencil, turned on the exhaust fan in the bathroom, adjusted an impatient expression on her unfamiliar face in the mirror, and opened the door naturally.
If you don't open the door, it will be broken down.
Outside the door was a girl with long hair. She was less than 1.6 meters tall, slightly plump, and wearing a half-sleeved sweatshirt.
At this moment, the girl was holding soy milk and buns in her left hand, and her right fingers were constantly rubbing the cuffs of her half-sleeves. There was timidity in her eyes, and she didn't dare to look at the illusionist, as if she was very afraid of her.
The reason was simple: the illusionist was too confident. She was obviously the one who didn't open the door for her roommate, but she put one hand on her waist, her face full of impatience, and looked at her roommate with a scrutinizing gaze, as if she was not going to speak first.
In this silent atmosphere, the roommate couldn't stand the pressure and said awkwardly: "I'm sorry, Tianyi, did I wake you up?"
The noise she made when banging on the door could wake up the dead. The illusionist turned and walked into the dormitory: "I was in the bathroom just now and couldn't open the door for you. Why were you banging on the door?"
"I, I'm afraid something might happen to you in the dormitory." The roommate followed the illusionist timidly.
The illusionist turned around and stared at her: "Why are you sure I'm in the dormitory?"
The roommate was stunned.
The dormitory door was locked and no one opened it when I pulled it. Out of inertia of thinking, I would think that there was no one in the dormitory. A normal person would have gone to the dormitory manager to borrow the key. No one would break down the door like this.
The illusionist looked directly into his roommate's eyes, and his roommate avoided his gaze: "I'm sorry, I was just too anxious. Do you want breakfast?"
Is there any reason why I have to stay in the dormitory? The illusionist did not answer her roommate. She pulled out a chair and sat down.
The roommate also sat carefully in her seat, not daring to make any sound. She randomly pushed away the things on the table that the Memory Master had precisely put back in place, and put her own breakfast on them.
The illusionist's hand, which was playing with the eyebrow pencil, froze.
She found it very contradictory that the messy things on the desk showed that her roommate was not a careful person, but wrapping books in book covers was something only a careful and patient person could do.
My roommate suddenly remembered something and took out a cinnamon roll from her bag. She held the canvas bag tightly in her left hand, gently pinched the edge of the cinnamon roll with her right hand, and handed it to me.
"Thank you, you go ahead and eat it. I don't really feel like having breakfast." The Memory Master weighed the pros and cons and finally chose a more tactful way to express his refusal.
The roommate looked up and made eye contact with the illusionist. Her expression was very strange, as if she was expecting the rules to be broken.
Taking the cinnamon roll from his roommate, the Memory Master broke it in half.
It was full of lively red ants.
The illusionist let the ant crawl up his wrist along his fingers: "I suddenly want to eat it, let's each have half."
The illusionist was certain that her roommate's facial features distorted the moment she finished speaking.
It was a real distortion, not just a ferocious expression. The corners of my roommate's mouth moved upwards by three centimeters, and the corners of his eyes bent downwards, turning his entire eyes into a weird triangle shape, which looked absurd and ridiculous.
This moment was so short that it seemed like an illusion. My roommate screamed in panic: "Ants! My hands are all over ants!"
She might have said the wrong thing out of fear, or it might be that she is not human and cannot learn the word order of human language.
The illusionist clenched his fingers and crushed a red ant to death.
The roommate grabbed the illusionist and staggered towards the bathroom: "Let's go wash our hands."
The toilet is the place of death of the original body.
The illusionist hesitated for a moment, but still let his roommate pull him into the bathroom. While washing his hands, he asked a question he had always wanted to know: "Why put a big plastic bucket in such a small bathroom?"
"You bought it and said you wanted to take a bath." The roommate lowered his head and took the paper.
After a long silence, the illusionist finally managed to say: "Indeed, there is a bucket here that everyone can use."
The roommate stopped pulling out the paper, she looked at the Memory Master quietly, and whispered: "I really haven't used it, Tianyi, and it wasn't me who made it dirty last time. I always remember what you said and haven't touched this bucket."
“Why do you have books in book covers?”
My roommate looked up blankly and said, "You gave me the book cover, saying that second-hand books are too shabby and covered them up."
The Memory Master's premonition came true.
From the moment I saw "Malice", the uneasiness lurking in my heart came true.
She took a deep breath and apologized on behalf of the original owner of the body: "Don't pack it anymore. It's a waste of time. It's my fault for saying that second-hand books are shabby. I'm sorry."
"Besides, old books have their own advantages. They may contain the key points that the teacher has highlighted for the previous class. It just so happens that the exam will be held after New Year's Day."
After so much preparation, the illusionist finally revealed his true intention: "So, can you lend me those books?"
My roommate lowered her head, rustling the tissue wrapper, her expression hidden under her bangs: "I've read those books, but they don't highlight the key points."
"I'll read it again and share the key points with you."
Lifting her eyes from under her bangs, her roommate looked at her with an inexplicable look: "I'm sorry, I forgot that you are different from me."
“Why apologize? We live and study together, what’s the difference?” The memory teacher’s scalp was tingling. She found that the word “sorry” was the roommate’s catchphrase.
"I'm sorry, I forgot that you were working hard to improve your GPA and apply for graduate school at a foreign university."
"As long as I don't fail any courses, I can graduate."
The words of dissuasion came to her lips, but the illusionist held them back. Reason told her that these words, which were too preachy, were neither suitable nor necessary to be said to the girl in front of her.
She made a final request: "Forget about the professional books. I don't want to study today. Can you lend me that novel?"
The roommate walked out of the bathroom in silence, took "Malice" from the bookshelf and handed it to her.
The Memory Master stroked the cover of "Malice" but did not open it.
There is a story about bullying in "Malice". The victim and the murderer knew each other since childhood. The murderer was bullied to the point that he was afraid to go to school when he was a child.
The victim saved the murderer, but the murderer betrayed him and joined a bullying group, which then began to bully the victim.
Many years later, the victim became a well-known author and wrote a novel on the theme of bullying.
The murderer came to his door with a thick face. The victim didn't care about what happened in his youth. He took the initiative to help him in his career and introduced him to a publishing house.
The murderer, however, was filled with jealousy and hatred, and not only did he kill his benefactor, he even wanted to discredit the victim and claim his work as his own.
The novel is written in the first-person perspective. The "I" in the text is a policeman, and the reader follows the police's perspective to solve the case.
The Memory Master firmly believed that this book "Malice" was definitely a key prop and must be a metaphor for something.
The moment he opened the novel, the illusionist's eyes widened and his pupils contracted.
This is not "Malice", or rather, this is not the "Malice" that she had read before. The content of the novel has not changed, but the names of the characters have been changed to Wanting, the delicate name Wanting written in a 0.25mm ultra-fine blue pen.
......
[The answer is in Wanting's notes.]
[Does Wan Ting have any relics left behind? ]
【What I just said were all Wan Ting's instructions.】
......
Wanting, Wanting, Wanting, Wanting, Wanting, Wanting, the memory master was breathing rapidly and flipping through the pages quickly.
In the first few pages, the original name was crossed out with a blue pen, and then Wanting was written between the lines. In the middle part, the original name was covered by the red Wanting.
Later on, the text was directly modified, with the two words "Wanting" printed instead of the original name, and it was impossible to tell unless you read the content carefully.
The Memory Master closed the book.
She realized she had overlooked a very important issue.
What is the full name of the original owner of this body, what is the name of the roommate, and who is Wanting?
It was a dead person, a wronged ghost, or a widow.
The illusionist turned his head sharply and met his roommate's eyes.
The roommate looked at her with a clear gaze: "How is it? Is this novel good?"
The Memory Master said nonchalantly: "It's pretty nice, I like it very much."
The Memory Master casually pulled out two professional books from the bookshelf and prepared to go out. She wanted to investigate Professor Shen mentioned in the rules.
The roommate stood up in panic: "Tianyi, where are you going, are you going out?"
"I'm going to class."
"But today is the last day, are you really going out?" the roommate was very confused.
"What last day?"
"Have you forgotten?" The roommate tilted her head and looked at her, "Seven days ago, you played a fake human game, and then you asked me to supervise you and not go out for a week. Today is the seventh day."
"This week, you asked for substitutes for all your classes, you made excuses to take leave from the drama club rehearsal, and you even refused to attend the Student Union External Relations Department meeting."
"You even threw your computer and cell phone to Brother Hei. Brother Hei is very worried about you. When I went to deliver something to the drama club yesterday, Brother Hei asked me how I was doing."
"Oh." The illusionist did not respond, or she did not know how to respond. "Why is Heige worried about me?"
"You... Brother Hei must be worried about you. I ran into Wang Yue in the cafeteria. Wang Yue was also worried and said he wanted to come and see you."
The illusionist guessed that this black guy might be Tianyi's boyfriend.
"And you just went out like that?" The roommate looked at her strangely, as if hinting at something.
Glancing down at her clothes and the professional book in her hand, she found nothing wrong and felt puzzled. She hummed vaguely and raised her hand to open the dormitory door.
As soon as her hand touched the doorknob, the door was pushed inward.
In a hurry, the illusionist subconsciously dodged backwards and did not see her roommate standing behind her at all. She only felt that she stepped hard on her roommate's foot, and her poor roommate was knocked to the ground by her.
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