Following two instances of being kicked out by the school doctor, Li Xin achieved the feat of being pinned down by someone twice more.
He began to seriously consider whether he had committed too many sins before losing his memory, which led to his current streak of bad luck.
The position was not comfortable.
It was unclear if Yu Suheng was doing it on purpose, but he let Li Xin’s back slide down against the wall just enough so that his knees were slightly bent, forcing him to look up at him, before using his elbow to lock Li Xin against the wall again.
Li Xin tilted his head slightly. Even while being restrained, there was no panic on his face. He was even smiling, and the gemstone on his ear swayed for a moment.
This reaction caused the pressure on his chest to increase slightly. Yu Suheng heard his breathing deepen, and he said coldly, “What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing,” Li Xin replied in a low voice. He relaxed his body, reached out to loosely grip the other’s cool wrist, and whispered, “Are you angry? I was thinking about a compensation plan.”
Yu Suheng sneered, unsure whether to believe him or not. “Is that so? Have you decided then?”
Feeling the weight on his chest increasing, Li Xin found it difficult to breathe. However, Yu Suheng kept the pressure just right—enough to make him uncomfortable, but not enough to truly suffocate him.
Faced with such intense discomfort, most people would struggle instinctively, even knowing there was no immediate life-threatening danger. But Li Xin did not. He even half-closed his eyes, staring at those beautiful eyes inches away, and felt a wave of sleepiness.
He had gone to bed too late last night.
Li Xin thought to himself, the mere three hours of sleep had his heart racing in a chaotic rhythm.
His thoughts had drifted far away, and he couldn’t muster up a shred of crisis management to deal with the fact that he was being held hostage. It was only after a long pause that he responded belatedly to Yu Suheng’s previous question: “I’ve decided.”
Yu Suheng let out a casual “Mhm,” wanting to hear what kind of nonsense he would come up with, so he played along: “How have you decided?”
“How about I compensate you with another clue? For example…” Li Xin tilted his head, his slightly long hair ends brushing against Yu Suheng’s wrist. As he finished speaking, he suddenly looked past Yu Suheng toward a certain spot. The hint of exhaustion in his eyes vanished instantly, and his lips curled upward: “For example… step back now.”
The moment his words fell, a black shadow “peeled off” from the wall.
It was indeed peeling off; it detached from the wall like a layer of skin. With its mouth wide open, it lunged at Li Xin—who had seen it first—without a hint of hesitation.
The mouth was stained with dark red blood, and a foul, fishy stench rushed toward them. Li Xin suspected this thing liked to bite people in half rather than swallowing them whole.
The shadow moved quickly, but fortunately, Yu Suheng did not disappoint.
He felt the disturbance behind him too, but instead of stepping back as suggested, he took a step forward, grabbed Li Xin by the collar, and shoved him to the left, while he himself relaxed his stance and fell forward the moment the black shadow lunged.
Instinctively catching the body that collided with him, Li Xin pulled him into his arms and smelled a sharp, icy fragrance.
The shadow missed, crashing into the wall. The parts that were scattered quickly reassembled, and this time, there was anger in its eyes.
Li Xin ducked to the other side while holding him, looked up at the shadow, and said with a bit of helplessness: “It’s angry.”
Yu Suheng looked back as well and judged: “It can’t be killed, unless we drive it entirely into the sunlight.”
Obviously, they couldn’t do that right now.
Something that couldn’t be killed wasn’t worth wasting time on. They locked eyes and dashed toward the door simultaneously.
The shadow naturally realized their plan. Unable to accept the “duck” flying out of its mouth, it let out an angry screech and, holding its breath, sealed the door completely shut before Yu Suheng could rush out.
Yu Suheng, who had half a foot outside, was forced to step back, crashing into Li Xin who was following close behind.
Instinctively reaching out to hold the other’s waist, Li Xin expected Yu Suheng to slap him away again. Unexpectedly, Suheng didn’t pay any mind to his gesture and just frowned, studying the viscous shadow plastered over the door.
Li Xin’s gaze flickered. He retracted his hand, walked over to Yu Suheng, and reached out to touch the completely sealed gate.
“It feels like a thin membrane,” Li Xin said, stroking his chin and looking up at the ceiling. “No seams. It has surrounded us inside.”
Yu Suheng pondered for a moment, turned around, rummaged through the corner where the boxes were stacked, and found a utility knife.
Seeing his actions, Li Xin leaned against the wall: “Are you planning to cut this thing open?”
“Not realistic.” Yu Suheng knew the temper of this damn game too well. Having no intention to waste time or effort, he put the knife in his pocket and answered: “I’m just wondering why it is targeting us.”
On this point, Li Xin had some ideas: “It should be trapped here, too.”
Yu Suheng turned to look at him upon hearing this.
Now that the two were trapped together, there was no need to hide things. Recalling what he saw at the Dean’s office last night, Li Xin spoke slowly:
“You should have found quite a few clues by now. How many are about the ‘research project’?”
Yu Suheng flipped through a cardboard box, answering: “Not many. All we know so far is that we are like volunteer test subjects, and the so-called Dean is conducting a ‘life trajectory’ correction experiment. Everything is implemented in connection with the shadow.”
Hearing Yu Suheng say this, Li Xin had a rough idea. He thought for a moment, then took a box from his pocket and waved it in front of Yu Suheng.
Yu Suheng, annoyed, looked up and suddenly saw the familiar design and patterns, confirming it was indeed the one that a certain jerk had swiped from him last night.
Yu Suheng: “…”
He was silent for a moment, then looked up at the face that became more annoying the more he looked at it, and said sincerely: “Are you showing off?”
Li Xin didn’t dare to admit it. Before the other party could explode, he shoved the box into his hand and looked over with absolute sincerity. That “scumbag” face, paired with this look, was actually quite soulful.
Even someone as cold and heartless as Yu Suheng couldn’t help but pause, deciding to give him a chance to explain for the sake of that face.
However, he wasn’t about to pass up the object in front of him. Yu Suheng grabbed the box and opened it without a word.
Seeing that his anger had visibly dissipated, Li Xin couldn’t help but be a little narcissistic, and then he spoke:
“Back to the rightful owner. I was just borrowing it last night; I was planning on returning it to you today anyway.”
To this claim, Yu Suheng responded with a sneer: “Heh.”
Li Xin pretended not to hear. Seeing Yu Suheng pull out and unfold the paper inside, he raised an eyebrow and recited the words he had already memorized as the paper unfolded:
“The shadow is invincible, but people are not.”
His softened voice carried a touch of gentleness, making Yu Suheng’s lowered eyelids tremble. Without a doubt, this was a voice that would easily attract anyone, even carrying a hint of imperceptible temptation.
Almost instantly, Yu Suheng realized that this person was trying to lead him.
This kind of guidance was hard to detect, but Yu Suheng knew the process too well.
Usually, the moment Li Xin selected a target, he would retract all of his aggression and synchronize his mindset with the target through observation.
At this point, he would reduce disagreement and propose suggestions that everyone could accept and couldn’t refuse—empathetic and harmless. Almost everyone who was guided believed they had met someone sincere who completely understood them.
However, the fact was that the moment you unconsciously stepped into the trap, you were destined to walk only in Li Xin’s footsteps.
All the decisions you made were the ones he wanted you to make, and all seemingly correct decisions were only ever absolutely beneficial to one person.
As for whether others could benefit from it, Li Xin didn’t care.
This long-lost face reminded Yu Suheng of some things from the past.
Sure enough, even if he lost his memory, this person could still make the most favorable choices by instinct alone.
Yu Suheng could guess the reason for Li Xin’s actions.
Because the discrepancy in their identities created an unavoidable information gap, and missing information easily led people into misunderstandings. He was now trying to acquire the information he lacked, and he had chosen himself as the target.
The plan was well-calculated, but unfortunately, everyone else here might be bewitched, but Yu Suheng would not be.
That cunning bastard had chosen the wrong prey, and he had chosen it quite wrongly.
Curving his lips slightly, Yu Suheng remained silent, deciding to watch him “perform.”
This was the advantage of having no expression. Li Xin couldn’t detect anything unusual in Yu Suheng. He reached out and tapped the note, suddenly playing a “strong card”:
“This is something the doctor left behind. He hopes to kill the Dean through the players’ hands.”
He hadn’t expected Li Xin to be so direct. Yu Suheng was surprised for a rare moment, then frowned slightly: “The doctor? What reason would he have to do that?”
“Because they have a ‘successful case,’ and there is only one, and only one,” Li Xin smiled. “You can understand it as an unfair distribution of the spoils; the Dean is greedier than you imagine.”
“So well-informed?” Yu Suheng paused his searching of the boxes, looking Li Xin up and down with scrutiny: “You saw the Dean last night, that’s how you got that thing on your neck, isn’t it?”
Ah… a declarative statement.
Li Xin couldn’t help but rub his nose.
Although he hadn’t thought he could hide it, he didn’t expect to be exposed after just one sentence.
“Yeah, the Dean sincerely invited me to join,” Li Xin simply blinked, smiling half-jokingly, “I wanted to turn over a new leaf and be a good teacher, but you know that in this world, a higher-ranking official can crush you. When under someone else’s roof, you have to bow your head.”
Yu Suheng expressionlessly filtered out all the flowery modifications and summarized: “You agreed to him?”
“Agreed to half, I guess. Refusing definitely wouldn’t work; the Dean is quite crazy. If I had refused, he might have turned me into his next test subject.” Li Xin said casually, and simply began to rummage through the boxes in front of him. “So I told him I needed two days to consider.”
Yu Suheng said “Mhm”: “And the conditions for the exchange?”
“That…” Li Xin smiled, just about to say something, but suddenly stopped. Under Yu Suheng’s questioning gaze, he took something out of a box.
It was a drawing, a childish style depicting the greenery outside the window.
And below the drawing was a strange sentence:
The sound of the leaves being blown by the wind is beautiful, but unfortunately, there is no wind today.