Chapter 57: Savior

“Don’t like it?”

Li Yuan asked softly, slowly using her fingers to smooth and straighten the tousled hair.

Qi Xin hesitated, then nodded.

“Then why didn’t you refuse me?”

Li Yuan kept her voice as calm and natural as possible, not like a question but more like casual conversation, like a friend idly asking, “Why did you suddenly change your hairstyle?” Even so, she noticed the girl’s expression clearly tighten upon hearing this. The previous calmness vanished, and she was clearly pondering how to answer, yet nervous that remaining silent was a bad thing. Her expression grew increasingly strained. Li Yuan reached out and clapped her hands in front of Qi Xin. The sound was crisp, interrupting her tightening expression.

“If you feel uncomfortable, just refuse me directly,” Li Yuan said softly. “Are you worried I’ll get angry?”

She reached out, passing through the strands of hair, and placed her hand on the girl’s earlobe, gently kneading it. This was something she learned from her mother. When she was in school, always nervous about exams, unable to sleep at night, her mother would constantly rub her earlobes. The warmth would seep through the earlobe, as if permeating into her brain, causing the taut nerves to slowly relax. Then she would gradually calm down and sleep well.

When her fingers touched the earlobe, the girl trembled violently for an instant, as if an electric current shot through her body. She opened her mouth, wanting to speak but then stopping. Finally, she closed her mouth and obediently gave an “Mm” sound, then stiffened again, as if realizing that answering “Mm” itself was wrong, freezing like a program encountering an error. A slight sweat beaded on her fair forehead, and her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes.

Li Yuan felt a headache coming on. She realized her actions seemed to have made the situation worse—because Qi Xin didn’t care at all what exactly she said. She only instinctively thought about how she should answer, how to avoid making a mistake. So no matter what Li Yuan said, no matter the tone, Qi Xin interpreted it all as meaning, “What you are doing right now is problematic,” only feeling more and more panicked.

—If Qi Xin were forced to speak her true feelings right now, it would probably be, “Stop talking about this.” Li Yuan thought with a headache.

She asked again, a little helplessly: “Do you have anything else to do this afternoon?”

Qi Xin shook her head.

“Then come with me to try this dessert shop,” Li Yuan unlocked her phone screen, found a photo in her album, and showed it to the girl before her. Her tone was quite firm. “My treat.”

Qi Xin was slightly taken aback, then nodded. Her expression gradually relaxed, clearly relieved. Being guided like this helped her calm down, making her less disoriented.

As the initial slight panic caused by the sudden physical contact faded, she roughly understood what the woman before her was doing. She also saw, in those eyes reflecting her own image, a familiar emotion. It was a look that had once appeared in her friend Lian Hui’s eyes—it was pity.

People like Li Yuan, who lived a smooth-sailing life, uniformly possessed a so-called savior complex. This complex usually appeared in those with superior positions, like upperclassmen and underclassmen at school, the elder and younger within a family, or even friends divided by age. It was an instinct of human nature, deep-rooted and hard to eradicate.

These people, with good family backgrounds, excellent family education, and high moral standards, usually held an extremely strong sense of mission. They would look down from above, fantasize about Qi Xin’s misery and suffering, imagine her as absolutely innocent and fragile, and then feel that they must save her, that only they could save her. Even if she refused, it was useless, because they would imagine her refusal as forced, her refusal as unconscious. She must, and could only, accept their salvation.

—A disadvantaged girl, a girl excelling in both character and studies before outsiders, a girl with a bright future and a miserable past. Only they knew the fragility beneath the perfection. Only they could save her, only they could grasp her. This immense, unparalleled sense of honor was enough to make these morally upright people euphoric, driving them to over-give without expecting return, driving them to over-control without self-awareness.

Even without her, Qi Xin thought, it would be the same. They would find ways to locate such a perfect victim fitting their imagination around them, then proceed to give and control. It was always like this.

She shouldn’t have panicked. Qi Xin calmed down, slowly thinking. Contemptibly displaying her own vulnerability to win the pity of others was supposed to be what she was best at, wasn’t it? So there was nothing to be nervous about.

She raised her head.

“Can you eat mango? It would be terrible if you were allergic…” Li Yuan put away her phone, just about to say something, but her words stopped abruptly. She pulled tissues from her bag, her expression at a loss.

The girl noticed her expression and, with some confusion, reached out her hand. Seeming to realize late, she covered her cheeks. She tilted her head up slightly, as if trying to hold back the tears, but it was useless. Her lips trembled slightly, tears rolling down her cheeks and onto her clothes. She kept wiping them with her sleeve. Even when crying, she was different from other girls her age, utterly silent, causing no trouble for anyone. Because she held her breath, there wasn’t even a rapid breathing sound.

She bent forward slightly, leaning against the wall. Her thin body, frail from malnutrition, couldn’t help but spasm slightly. Li Yuan, completely unprepared for this, could only repeatedly reach out, stroking and patting her thin back from top to bottom, as if soothing her. The touch wasn’t good; the outline of her bones was clear beneath the skin.

Li Yuan didn’t know what to say, only repeating reassurances like “It’s okay,” “Don’t worry.” Watching the girl’s suppressed sobs caught in her throat, a huge pang of sourness, enough to engulf her Mind Lake, rose in her heart. Even releasing her emotions had to be done so cautiously?

Sunlight filtered through the hallway window, falling with the transparent tears onto the white-tiled floor. The sound was crisp and audible. Li Yuan looked up, suddenly realizing it was a very nice day, sunny and bright, clean like freshly washed glass. A day like this indeed warranted going out.

The girl’s crying didn’t last long, even somewhat short. The sobbing slowly eased, and she calmed down. But the arm blocking her face still didn’t lower. Li Yuan knew what she was worried about, so she simply took off the thin jacket she was wearing and gently draped it over the girl’s head. Darkness could help settle one’s heart and relax emotions.

She heard the girl’s voice under the jacket, a bit hoarse, still with a lingering nasal tone: “Could you please take me to the washroom? I want to wash my face.”

Li Yuan took the girl’s hand, thinking that maybe this was a good thing. After all, being willing to vent emotions was already a good first step. At least it showed the girl was starting to open her heart a little to her. To put it abstractly, that hard “Heart’s Wall” had somewhat begun to dissolve.

Arriving at the washroom, Qi Xin lifted the jacket covering her head and cupped the clear water flowing from the faucet to wash her face. After washing, she looked up at the mirror. Apart from slightly red and swollen eye rims, she seemed mostly fine.

Li Yuan stood at the door, waiting quietly. After washing up, the girl walked out of the washroom and handed her jacket back. Her voice was hoarse, still with a bit of a nasal tone: “Sorry, I got your clothes dirty.”

“It’s okay,” Li Yuan took the jacket, smiling lightly. She didn’t ask much, just comforted her: “Crying is a good way to release emotions.”

The girl hesitated slightly, her voice very, very soft, like a murmur: “Can I call you Elder Sister?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks flushed red instantly, as if she had just realized she had unconsciously spoken her inner thoughts aloud. Her speech quickened, a bit flustered, as she added: “Although I have a younger sister, we were separated when we were very young, so I’m more like an only child. I never thought that being alone was lonely or anything… but, when you held my hand just now to find the washroom, I suddenly thought, if only I had an elder sister, an elder sister like you…”

Her words stumbled slightly, clearly nervous to the extreme. Li Yuan looked at the girl’s reddened earlobes and couldn’t help but be stunned for a moment, racking her brain to recall their previous conversation. She thought, this pace doesn’t seem right. What exactly did I just say? This isn’t the Heart’s Wall slightly dissolving, it’s like an armor-piercing round blew straight through it. Or is it that I’m actually some hidden master of psychology? Or is the girl’s Heart’s Wall just incredibly unbalanced, so starved for familial affection that my showing a bit of it penetrated and shattered her defenses?

As her thoughts flew wildly, the girl seemed to interpret her brief hesitation as refusal, and her expression visibly fell with swift dejection.

She hastily interrupted her own wild thoughts, showing a gentle smile that would make Ms. Li’s teeth ache if she saw it. She firmly grasped the girl’s hand, her tone carrying an unprecedented seriousness: “Thank you, of course you can, little Qi Xin. Honestly, this compliment really makes me happy.”