Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Xilun closed his eyes.

really.

He spoke very softly.

"poisonous."

A person quietly entered Susie's room late at night.

I'm not here to steal anything.

They're not here to deliver a letter.

It was to poison her late-night snack.

Black Blood Virus.

The Black Blood Virus, which can be deadly.

Someone wants to kill Susie.

Xilun stared at the blackened silver needle in his hand, saying nothing.

A very slight noise came from behind.

He turned his head.

Susie sat on the bed, her head down.

Her hair hung down, covering most of her face.

Her voice came from between her hair, still soft and gentle—

"You can leave now."

she says.

"I don't need you to save me."

Xilun looked at her.

There was a three-second silence.

"Even at this point, you still don't want to tell me anything?"

Susie lowered her head even further.

Her fingers gripped the hem of her pajamas tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

Much later, she spoke.

The voice was very soft, as if talking to oneself.

"Risa is a bad mother."

she says.

"Don't offend her."

After saying that, she didn't look up, but shrank back into the blankets, turning her back to Xilun and curling up into a small ball.

Like a snail that shrinks into its shell.

Xilun stood there, watching the huddled figure.

Then he went back to the table and wrapped all three pieces of pastry in the plate with a handkerchief.

He didn't leave them here—

He wrapped the handkerchief up and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his coat.

Then he climbed out of the window.

I returned to my room.

Close the windows and draw the curtains.

He sat leaning against the headboard in the darkness.

Susie's words kept echoing in my mind.

Risa is a bad mother.

Don't offend her.

It has come to this point—

Someone wants to kill her with the Black Blood Virus.

She's still pretending to be stupid.

Even when reminding him, do it in a way that sounds like a child casually saying something unintentionally.

She was protecting herself.

at the same time--

They are also protecting him.

"Don't offend her."

This is not to say that a little girl dislikes her stepmother.

This is a final warning issued by someone who has been lying in the shadows for many years, using the last vestiges of their goodwill.

Xilun took the handkerchief out of his pocket.

turn on.

Three delicate little cakes, sprinkled with icing sugar, gleamed with a soft, milky white luster under the moonlight.

He stared at the three pastries for a long time without saying a word.

He then rewrapped them and put them in the bedside table drawer.

Lock it.

He closed his eyes.

In my mind, four clues gradually intertwined, weaving an increasingly clear web.

Virus number one.

The death of Susie's mother.

Susie's infection four years ago.

Risa.

All the lines—

They all point in the same direction.

But he still can't move.

There is insufficient evidence.

If David were to rashly accuse Risa, whose side would he take?

He already stated his position today – "Don't know too much."

Between his mother and father, who would he choose?

Or rather—

Does he already know the truth?

They simply chose silence?

Xiren opened his eyes in the darkness.

The moonlight outside the window had already slipped away through the gaps in the curtains.

The room was pitch black.

His breathing was steady and slow.

Four days left.

He told himself.

……

Susie watched as Celen's figure disappeared beyond the window frame.

The moonlight slanted in, falling on her thin face, as if gilding her pale skin with a thin layer of silver.

She didn't move.

I sat on the bed with my hands on my knees and my eyes fixed on the moonlit sky outside the window.

a long time.

The night breeze drifted in through the cracks, causing the stray hairs on her forehead to sway slightly.

Her lips moved.

"Madam is angry."

The sound was extremely soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.

"Another person... is going to suffer."

After saying this, Susie slowly turned her gaze away from the window.

She looked down at her hands resting on her knees.

Her fingers were slender with distinct knuckles, and her nails were trimmed very short.

These are hands that can't do anything.

Unable to fight back, unable to escape.

They can't even make pastries properly.

Susie tucked her hands into her sleeves.

She slid off the bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor, and walked to the table, glancing at the empty plate.

The pastries were taken away by Xilun.

she knows.

Those three pastries were poisoned.

She knew that too.

She knows everything.

I just can't say it.

I can't say it, I dare not say it, and it would be useless to say it anyway.

Susie slowly walked back to the bedside, climbed up, and wrapped the blanket tightly around her body.

It's getting a bit cold.

After autumn arrived, the heating in the west wing of the manor was never quite enough. Daisy's room had a fireplace, but hers didn't.

It wasn't that no one cared about her—Daisy had applied for it for her several times, and the housekeeper had agreed, but every time the installation date arrived, there were always various reasons to postpone it.

Susie didn't care.

She curled herself up into a small ball, knees pressed against her chest, arms wrapped around her calves, and chin buried in the blanket.

Like a snail that has its shell tightly closed.

This position made her feel safe.

At least--

Nothing can get through the crack.

……

The moonlight moves very slowly.

Susie closed her eyes, but she couldn't fall asleep.

Some images flashed through my mind.

The scene is very old.

Like an old photograph soaked in rainwater, the edges are blurred, but the figure in the middle is still clear.

That was my mother.

Susie couldn't quite remember her mother's name anymore.

Everyone in the manor called her "Eileen".

Eileen was a short woman with a round face, and her hands always had flour on them. She worked in the manor kitchen, making pastries.

Soufflé, honey cookies, almond tarts, cinnamon rolls—

Susie remembers the taste of every pastry.

I remember my mother carrying a tray out of the kitchen, her apron covered in icing sugar, a smile on her face.

"Sisi, come and have a taste."

My mother's voice was always soft, with a slight southern accent.

Susie has no father.

Or rather, she did have it, but her mother never mentioned it.

Susie asked once, and her mother's smile froze for a moment, then she patted her head and said—

"Dad went to a very far place."

Susie stopped asking after that.

She knew that "a very far place" was a phrase adults used to deceive children.

But she doesn't care.

With my mother around, that's enough.

Chief Link was a kind and generous man.

Susie remembers him.

He was tall and big, with gray hair, a deep voice, and deep lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.

The mother had been making pastries on the estate for many years. After tasting them, the clan chief praised them highly. Upon learning that she was raising her daughter alone, he allowed Susie to move into the estate and live with her mother.

Those were the best days of Susie's life.

The small house on the first floor of the west wing, near the garden, has a window facing a cluster of roses.

In spring, the flowers bloom profusely, and their fragrance can waft into the house.

Her mother would get up at five o'clock every morning to go to the kitchen and return at seven o'clock in the evening, while Susie would run around the manor.

She plays with children her own age.

Catching butterflies.

Swinging on a swing.

Play hopscotch on the stone path in the garden.

The housekeeper's daughter, two years older than her, knew how to make flower wreaths and taught her to make a circle out of daisies and wild mint to wear on her head.

Daisy was three years older than her, the chieftain's youngest daughter, and she wore a beautiful dress and spoke softly.

When Susie first met Daisy, she thought she looked like a princess from a picture book.

Daisy crouched down and tilted her head to look at her—

"You're Aunt Eileen's daughter?"

"Um."

What do you like to eat?

"...honey cakes."

"Me too."

Then Daisy laughed and took her hand.

That hand was warm.

Susie still remembers that temperature.

everything is fine.

The sun was shining brightly, the flowers smelled wonderful, and her mother would bring back pastries every day. Daisy would come to play with her in the afternoon.

seem--

This is how life should be.

Until that night.

Susie remembers it was an autumn evening.

It was already dark, but Mother had not yet returned.

Normally, the kitchen work ends at 6 p.m.

But that day the steward suddenly fell ill, and his mother was temporarily asked to deliver the night snacks to the clan chief in his place.

Susie sat on the bed and waited.

waited for so long.

The sky outside the window changed from dark blue to inky black, and the rose bushes became a blurry shadow.

The door finally opened.

The mother hurried in.

The lights were not on.

Susie couldn't see her expression, but she could hear her panting—rapid, trembling panting.

"Mother?"

Susie sat up in bed.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

The mother did not answer.

She closed the door, bolted it, and then, leaning against the door, slowly slid down to sit on the floor.

Susie ran over barefoot and squatted down in front of her.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating my mother's face.

That face—

Susie had never seen that expression before.

It's not fatigue, it's not sadness.

It is fear.

Pure, deep-seated fear.

The mother's lips were trembling, her eyes were wide open, and the thin moonlight outside the window was reflected in her pupils.

"Mom, did you fall?"

Susie reached out and touched her forehead.

Her mother suddenly grabbed her wrist.

He has incredible strength.

"Sissi".

The mother's voice was hoarse and urgent.

Don't ask anything.

"Don't ask anything, understand?"

Susie was startled and nodded vigorously.

That night, my mother didn't sleep.

She lay in bed with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

Susie huddled beside her, able to feel her mother's body trembling uncontrollably.

It felt like something was chasing her in the darkness.

The next day, my mother fell ill.

It started with just a fever.

His face was burning red, and his forehead was frighteningly hot.

Susie ran to find the butler, who then summoned the manor's doctor.

The doctor examined the patient and said it was just a common cold, and prescribed fever reducers.

But even after taking the medicine, the fever didn't subside.

On the third day, my mother started coughing, and there was blood in her cough.

Many people came to visit her.

My colleagues in the kitchen, the gardener in the garden, and the auntie in the laundry room.

even--

Mrs. Risa also came.

Susie remembered the way Risa walked into the room.

She wore a dark red long dress, her hair was neatly combed, and she had a perfectly timed smile on her lips.

Gentle and refined, caring and considerate.

She sat down beside her mother's bed, held her mother's hand, and whispered many comforting words.

"Eileen, get some rest and don't worry about work."

"The manor has already arranged for someone to take your place, so you can just focus on recovering."

"I'll have someone take care of Sissi, don't worry."

My mother was trembling.

From the moment Risa walked in the door, her mother's body began to tremble.

It's not because of a fever.

Susie didn't understand at the time.

But she remembered her mother's fingers gripping the blanket tightly, her knuckles white, as if she wanted to crush the cotton cloth.

Risa said a lot, and finally stood up and patted her mother's hand.

"Stop talking and get some rest."

she says.

The voice was very soft.

It's like coaxing an obedient child.

But Susie remembers—

As Risa turned to leave, her gaze swept across her mother's face.

It was just a fleeting moment.

That look in his eyes wasn't one of concern or sympathy, but one of confirmation.

Like a hunter inspecting his prey in a trap—

It was confirmed that it was still struggling, but it couldn't escape anymore.

In the days that followed, my mother's illness worsened.

First, I felt cold, and the cold kept coming.

Even with three quilts covering me, I was still cold, and I curled up like a shrimp.

Then there's the issue of poor mental health.

He started saying some strange things.

It was disjointed and incoherent.

Sometimes I would suddenly sit up in the middle of the night, stare at the window, and mumble something incoherently.

Susie couldn't understand.

She could only hold tightly to her mother's arm, warming her with her small body.

We consulted many doctors.

The manor doctor examined her and shook his head.

The doctor brought in from outside examined her and shook his head.

"I have never seen such a disease before."

"High fever, coughing up blood, mental confusion... it doesn't seem like a common cold."

"It's like...some kind of plague."

But no one could say what kind of plague it was.

No one could cure it.

Susie remembers that stormy night.

It's raining heavily.

The windows were being pounded so hard they were making a loud cracking sound, like someone was punching them from the outside.

The mother coughed for a while, then suddenly quieted down.

Then she reached out and pulled Susie to the bedside.

That hand was so thin it was just bone, and its skin was covered with dark purple spots.

But the strength with which he gripped Susie's wrist was surprisingly great.

"Sissi".

The mother's voice suddenly became clear.

No more ambiguity, no more madness.

It was a clarity that seemed like a final burst of light before death.

You must study hard.

she says.

"From now on... leave this place, go out into the world, and live a good life."

Susie nodded, tears blurring her vision.

"besides……"

The mother paused.

Her gaze shifted from Susie's face to a corner of the room.

That direction—is the direction of the manor's main residence.

"Treat your wife well."

said the mother.

"Don't go against her choice."

Susie didn't understand what that sentence meant.

All she knew was to hug her mother, bury her face in her withered hand, and cry uncontrollably.

She was young—

I already had a vague feeling that something was going on.

The feeling was like an invisible hand reaching out from the darkness, slowly and irresistibly choking her throat.

The next morning.

The rain stopped.

Sunlight streamed in through the window and fell on my mother's face.

The mother's expression was calm.

His eyes were closed, and the corners of his mouth were slightly curved, as if he had finally had a good sleep.

Susie lay by the bed and called "Mom" many times.

No one answered her.

No one answered her anymore.

From then on, Susie became an orphan.

……

Susie was adopted and raised on the estate.

Daisy cried for a long time, holding her tightly and refusing to let go.

The clan chief sighed and arranged for her to stay in a separate room in the west wing.

Without her mother, Susie felt the whole world had become quiet.

The garden is still the same garden, and the roses are still the same roses.

But the color seems to have faded.

The sound seems to have become quieter.

Even the sunlight isn't as warm as it used to be.