Chapter 81: The Lake Cutter and the Inheritance

In the end, Qi Ran could only sigh softly and close her eyes.

“…And you?” she murmured.

“Li Siwen,” Jiang Zhique answered without hesitation, without concealment, simply and openly. “I need to break free from him, swallow him whole. I need to replace him, become the Zhongnan Executors’ collaborator. It’s feasible. In the Executors’ eyes, my background is clean. And they genuinely do need a younger collaborator. Li Siwen’s age is his greatest disadvantage. As long as I can prove I have sufficient connections and prestige, the Executors will be willing to support me.”

Qi Ran wasn’t surprised by this answer. This was precisely one of the reasons she had proactively contacted Qi Xin. If this birthday banquet could make a sufficiently correct political statement, Jiang Zhique would initially shake off Li Siwen. To the Executors, she would no longer carry a prefix—no longer “the girl from the Jiang Family,” nor “Li Siwen’s subordinate.” She would just be Jiang Zhique herself.

After speaking, Jiang Zhique simply stared straight at Qi Ran.

In those clear pupils was written, unmistakably: Your turn.

What was her own focus? The question might as well be simplified to: “If one thing could be realized immediately, right now, what would it be?” Then what did she most wish to see realized? Qi Ran slowly pondered. Honestly, she found it hard to come up with an answer. It wasn’t that she couldn’t think of one, but that she wanted too many things to happen right now; she couldn’t easily rank them. At this thought, she suddenly remembered the Lake. To use Miss Ah Qiao’s words, the Lake was a mirror reflecting one’s true heart. What she did within the Lake was her greatest focus.

A caged sparrow, soaring lightly upward, reaching the highest point, overlooking the sky.

Was it freedom without any restraints, or reaching the very top, the pinnacle, to overlook everything below? She carefully searched her memory, but suddenly found herself stuck. The city’s nightscape in her recollection had blurred. The dazzling, chaotic streaks of light had blurred. Even the sensation of the wind slipping through her fingers had blurred. The only thing remaining as crystal clear as if seen yesterday was that hand—that soft, delicate, and slender hand.

Truth be told, she couldn’t quite remember who the owner of that hand was anymore. She just wanted to hold that hand.

She wanted to see Tao Xiao. She wanted to find her.

She heard a voice. It was the words spoken by the child sitting in the corner of that small rooftop in the Lake, a school bag beside her.

A very feeble, pathetic sentence. If Miss Ah Qiao were beside her, she would surely complain about how utterly pathetic it was. She deceived you, you know. Yet you still want to see her. For all you know, she spent those two years holding her nose and tolerating your childishness to be around you… But what could be done about it? Even if all that were true, she still wanted to see Tao Xiao one more time. At the very least, she needed to hear Tao Xiao admit these things with her own lips before she could let go. She always made the same stupid mistake. Back then, when Qi Jianguo knelt and slapped his own face, swearing he’d change, she had actually believed him. And the result was plain to see.

Why go looking for Tao Xiao? Didn’t Tao Xiao’s refusal to show herself now perfectly demonstrate her attitude? She knew all this perfectly well. But knowing something and being able to act on it are two different things.

“I still want to find her,” she said, her head bowed low, her voice so soft it was as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Even though she lied to me.”

She didn’t say the name. But she knew Jiang Zhique could guess who this “her” was.

What would Jiang Zhique say after hearing that? Qi Ran didn’t know. This wasn’t a familiar rhythm of conversation for her. Being so honest and open was stupid. As she calmed down, Qi Ran gradually regained her reason. So what if I make this girl give up the game of friendship? The current situation doesn’t absolutely depend on Jiang Zhique.

She lifted her head, wanting to say something more, but instead saw a hand.

It was a delicate hand. The sleeve was buttoned tightly, the wrist beneath it pale. Well, not actually that pale. It was just that the intricate serpent tattoos were so black that they made it seem pale. They slithered and coiled against each other, like a massive cluster of tangled seaweed. And on that extended, slender pinky finger, two serpents formed of pure black lines twisted around each other, writhing their way to the fingertip.

“You help me replace Li Siwen. I’ll help you find her,” Jiang Zhique’s words were very slow, each one deliberate. “We are companions. We will help each other, rely on each other. There is no relationship more solid and reliable than this. This is my vow.”

She had said these words once before. Now she said them again, word for word, exactly the same. Qi Ran guessed she had imagined this scene in her mind many times already. That’s why she delivered it so smoothly, without a single stumble.

Qi Ran felt a slight urge to laugh. Because this scene was honestly a bit… chuunibyou. Jiang Zhique had probably learned it from some novel or manga. She had no idea what those words truly meant. A vow wasn’t something you spoke so lightly… But then she saw that slender pinky finger trembling slightly. Nerves.

That pinky finger was like a young sprout on a branch, trembling faintly in the harsh, cold spring wind, wanting to curl up for protection, yet forcing itself to stay straight on sheer stubbornness alone. It was also like a terribly hungry child sitting on a rooftop, listening to the sound of a door being battered down in the stairwell behind her, already terrified, yet still forcing an expression of utter contempt, keeping her back ramrod straight, because the moment she relaxed, she would start trembling.

Could Jiang Zhique feel fear too?

As if driven by some divine impulse, Qi Ran reached out and hooked her finger around that pinky. Only after the sensation of touch registered did she belatedly realize what she had just done.

But it was too late now. Nothing to be done about it, Qi Ran thought.

(———)

Qi Xin stood before the door and knocked. Exactly four times, evenly spaced, no more, no less.

“Please come in,” Tian Xi’s voice came from inside.

Only upon hearing this did Qi Xin press her thumb to the fingerprint lock. As the camera scanned her, the heavy iron door unlocked. She pushed it open, stepped inside, and closed it behind her. The curtains in the room had already been drawn back, and the light was bright. Tian Xi was sitting on the bed. The younger girl, Xu Yan, sat at the desk. A small desk lamp was on, and she seemed to be doing her homework.

A Lake Cutter’s treatment cycle was one week. So Xu Yan had to stay here for a full week, even though there was no sign that the Lake Cutter had tampered with her. This was Fang Qi’s instruction. Only by doing so could the patient’s family feel at ease. Tian Xi’s task was simply to ensure Xu Yan slept normally each day, letting her believe this was the treatment method.

“She just does this every day? Homework?” Qi Xin sat down on another chair beside the desk. When Xu Yan saw her, she glanced over as if about to greet her, but then seemed to forget, lowering her head in confusion. She grasped her pen again as if nothing had happened and continued writing her homework with intense concentration.

“Your Talent is even higher than I thought,” Tian Xi watched the scene before her, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Have you truly never received any training concerning the Lake before?”

She didn’t speak the second half of her sentence. Qi Xin’s mental state was likewise far too suited for a Lake Cutter. Many young Lake Cutters couldn’t compare to her. They were either too utterly reckless, or too excessively restrained and reserved. It was like randomly selecting a group of teenagers and suddenly giving them Superman’s powers. Most would fall into one of two extremes: one group would begin showing off without restraint, wanting to change or conquer the world; the other would hide themselves out of fear, worried about being captured and studied.

In contrast, Qi Xin’s mental state was unnervingly natural. It was as if, in her mind, using a Lake Cutter’s methods was as simple as breathing. She didn’t deliberately seek to satisfy any desire for conquest or control, nor did she feel fear or fall into self-tormenting doubt after using them.

She simply learned them, used them, and that was it. As if what she’d learned wasn’t a technique capable of altering people’s minds, but simply a new subject at school.

Was it because she already possessed such a high innate Talent that she had developed this mindset? Tian Xi studied the girl before her, who sat with perfectly upright posture.

“If you’re suspicious, you can go directly and check my past files. It wouldn’t be difficult to investigate. You are the first, and only, Lake Cutter I have ever been able to come into contact with.”

Qi Xin’s tone was flat. She knew Tian Xi was currently uncomfortable. Both being Lakeless Persons, Tian Xi couldn’t directly peer into her Mind Lake to conduct the most truthful Q&A. Not to mention that bomb-like restriction still sitting in her brain. For a natural-born Lake Cutter like Tian Xi, this sudden loss of absolute initiative was surely an unpleasant feeling.

This was what the master-disciple inheritance among Lake Cutters was always like. The first murder committed by many Lake Cutter disciples after completing their training was often the killing of their own master. Thus, there was a classic Lake Cutter joke on the Forum: Two Lake Cutters are eating together, each having brought their own disciple. As they eat, they suddenly want to compete over whose disciple is more loyal. One Lake Cutter tells his disciple to go smash his head against the wall and kill himself. The disciple kneels and kowtows, saying he cannot die, he has an elderly parent and a young child at home. He kowtows three times, hitting his forehead so hard it bleeds, and says to just count it as having died once. The first Lake Cutter is a little dissatisfied but still feels his own authority is decent, so he looks at the second Lake Cutter. The second Lake Cutter calls his disciple in as well. Once the matter is explained, the young disciple immediately moves to slam his head against the wall. The first Lake Cutter is shocked and rushes to stop the second’s disciple. But the disciple struggles desperately, telling him to let go, shouting that he has an elderly parent and a young child at home, so please let go, he absolutely must die today…

But the main reason this joke became so famous wasn’t the joke itself. It was a comment below it on the Forum. Someone lamented: Thank goodness this is the internet. Lake Cutters don’t like going online because they can’t tamper with anyone’s Lake through a network cable. What a wonderful era this is… Lake Cutters were exactly that kind of group. Their desire for control was terrifyingly intense. If they didn’t hold absolute dominance in their hands, they would feel uneasy.

Even Tian Xi, who usually seemed easy-going and unassuming, was no exception to this. Qi Xin understood this point perfectly well.