Chapter 41: Parent-Teacher Conference (Part 3)

“…When did you get here? I thought you were still on the playground.”

Li Yuan quietly took a deep breath and stood up, trying to make her tone as natural as possible.

After calming down, she carefully reviewed the things she had said to her mother. She felt it wasn’t really a big problem; they were all very normal, natural words. Although a bit embarrassing, there wasn’t really a risk of blowing her cover—looking at it that way, the unspoken understanding between her and Ms. Li was actually a huge help. To an outsider, their conversation earlier must have sounded like complete gibberish, right? That was really lucky.

“Starting from where your mother called you a magical girl.”

Qi Xin hesitated slightly and chose her words as diplomatically as possible. “You were on the phone, so I didn’t want to interrupt…”

“I am not a magical girl!” Li Yuan replied instinctively, then immediately slapped a hand over her face. She really had developed a stress reaction to Ms. Li’s habit of bringing up that magical girl joke. She then calmed her tone and explained, “That was just a joke. My mother is rather… young at heart.”

She sighed inwardly without realizing it. This magical girl joke that Ms. Li often used to tease her originated from the night she first discovered her Syndrome—unlike those colleagues with deep bitterness and hatred, her Syndrome wasn’t some untouchable sore point or the deepest wound in her heart. If you really asked what she’d lost, it was probably just that poor toy that had accompanied her for so long, and her dignity in front of Ms. Li.

After all, in Ms. Li’s words, being able to see Li Yuan—who was in adolescence and loved pretending to be mature and grown-up—scared into tears was truly a memorable day for her.

But what could be done? At that time, she was at the peak age for her chuunibyou phase. But her chuunibyou was different from other teenagers’. Other boys and girls wore all black with flashy accessories or drew fake scars on their wrists, fantasizing about how deeply wounded they were—but Li Yuan’s chuunibyou was more old-school; she was still stuck at the magical girl stage.

Her favorite thing wasn’t the flashy special effects magic, nor the ruffled, puffy dresses, but that cute, talking pet that every magical girl has—or rather, a familiar companion.

For this reason, she had even specifically bought a deer hand puppet, hiding it in the deepest part of her schoolbag, never parting with it at school or while sleeping, fantasizing that one day that deer puppet would suddenly open its mouth and speak, telling Li Yuan that she was the destined special one… So when Li Yuan witnessed, that night, her longtime deer companion being torn open from the inside by her own hideous Third Hand, and the cotton stuffing—soaked through with blood—splattered out across the floor, the screams and howls of crying she let out were truly from the bottom of her heart.

She practically scrambled towards her mother’s room. Ms. Li’s thick nerves worked surprisingly well at this moment. She quite smoothly accepted the fact that “her daughter had suddenly grown a third hand” and comforted Li Yuan that it was too late tonight, go to sleep first, and she would take her to find the police tomorrow.

To this day, Li Yuan felt Ms. Li’s way of handling it was rather absurd, but it had indeed produced the correct result. Because seeing her mother’s calmness, Li Yuan, whose mind was on the verge of collapse, indeed relieved a lot of psychological pressure—as Yu Mi put it, many disasters involving Patients were actually unwarranted. If Ms. Li had shown intense fear at that time, or rejected and attacked Li Yuan as a monster, perhaps Li Yuan, upon receiving that stimulation, would have lost control of that hand, leading to some very terrible consequences.

“What will happen to me next?” Qi Xin asked softly. “How will you deal with me?”

Snapping back from her memories, Li Yuan waved her hands in slight panic. “First of all, I’m responsible for managing the liaison work with you. I don’t have the authority to ‘deal’ with you. It’s actually a bit like…”

Li Yuan got stuck for a moment. The girl, seemingly unwilling to let her remain awkward, offered a tentative fill-in: “Like an informant contact?”

“Right, an informant.” Li Yuan let out a subconscious sigh of relief and nodded.

“Since I’m an informant, that means you have things you want to find out from me, correct?” Qi Xin picked up her backpack resting on the stairs and asked, “Were the things I previously explained not enough? Then I don’t have any more secrets that could help you. That secret chamber is all I know.”

Li Yuan hesitated briefly, unsure if she should be completely honest with the girl about this next part. But after some thought, she chose to be open and frank—not for any other reason, mainly because she really wasn’t confident in her lying abilities. If, in trying to conceal something, she damaged the hard-won trust they had built up over this period, the loss would outweigh the gain.

She cleared her throat lightly. “But there is one thing I need to make clear to you first—yesterday, when the Investigation Team went to search the secret chamber you described, we found some bloodstains in the living room. Some of them were identified as your mother’s. Obviously, after escaping, she went back to the chamber to destroy evidence.”

To prevent Qi Xin from worrying, she quickly added, “But perhaps because time was tight, she only burned some paper documents. The team still found many important clues—in this matter, you played a significant role. Whether it was your active cooperation or your sincere attitude, I’ve written it all into the report. For you…”

She faltered slightly, stopping herself from saying, “it will greatly help your subsequent disposition arrangements.” Luckily, the girl didn’t seem to care about that trailing sentence at all, focusing only on the earlier part. “Some of them were my mother’s blood? Were there other bloodstains in the living room?”

Li Yuan opened her bag and handed an archive bag inside to Qi Xin. “Let’s talk back in the car. It’s a bit difficult for me to explain clearly in words. You can look over the materials yourself first.”

Qi Xin took the archive bag, placed it into her backpack, and walked down the stairs. To lighten the somewhat heavy atmosphere, Li Yuan smiled and said, “When I first got here, I had a bit of trouble finding your classroom. Luckily, a classmate helped lead me to the class. She said her name was Lu Changya, a friend you rehearse performances with—what instruments do you two play?”

“I’m on piano,” Qi Xin said. “Classmate Lu plays the cello. Unlike my amateur hobby, she seriously intends to incorporate the cello into her future life plans.”

“Classmate Lu, your tone of speaking makes you sound like an old-fashioned, pedantic cadre,” Li Yuan laughed. “Do you talk like this when chatting with classmates?”

The girl descending the stairs paused slightly before regaining her natural stride. “Maybe—I didn’t pay much attention. Do you not like this way of speaking?”

“Eh? Don’t change it. I actually think this speaking style is quite interesting,” Li Yuan mused, the corners of her eyes crinkling up. “It sounds a bit like imitating the protagonist from Norwegian Wood.”

“What makes you say that?” Qi Xin gave a light smile. “Actually, I’m imitating the boy in the rye.”

Li Yuan knew that answer was a direct quote from the book. Her mood felt slightly buoyant.

After getting into the car, Li Yuan started the engine. She glanced at the rearview mirror at the girl leafing through that thick stack of materials and said, “If you have any questions, just ask me directly.”

Qi Xin nodded. Initially, Li Yuan waited with some anticipation for her to voice some confusion, but that anticipation was quickly worn away. The girl was looking through those materials very seriously, her speed slow. Whether it was the photos or the on-site reports, she examined and compared them repeatedly and carefully—after glancing in that rearview mirror an unknown number of times, Li Yuan finally gave up, focused entirely on driving, and stopped waiting for the girl to ask questions.

She found that Qi Xin was completely different from the teenagers she had encountered before. Rationally speaking, no matter how mature-minded a teenager was, upon first learning about the existence of The Circle, regardless of their outward expression, inside they were both nervous and excited, filled with a stomach full of questions to ask. But Qi Xin was the exact opposite. All her reactions were far too calm. At times, Li Yuan could even glimpse a shadow of Yu Mi in her—but the problem was, how old was Yu Mi, and how old was this girl?