My sister, whom I raised, has turned evil after faking her death for three years.

The next morning, in the reception hall of Beicheng Police Station, Su Qing sat on a bench, twirling a pen in her hand, with several documents spread out on the table in front of her.

The police officer sitting opposite her finished flipping through her file, then looked up at her again, his expression somewhat subtle.

Eighteen years old, female, no criminal record, adoption procedures are complete, stamped by the Civil Affairs Bureau, and there is no fault in any of the procedures.

"Ms. Su," the police officer closed the file, carefully considering his words, "Are you sure you want to adopt this child? You yourself have only just come of age."

"Sure."

After signing the last name, Su Qing put down the pen, smiled at him, and said, "I'm mentally older than most people."

The police officer hesitated, but ultimately said nothing more.

His gaze passed over Su Qing's shoulder and looked at another office behind him. Through the half-open blinds, he could see two people with bruised and swollen faces sitting inside.

The man had bandages on his arm, and the woman's face was swollen on one side. They were shouting at another police officer about things like "trespassing" and "intentional injury."

The police officer looked away and said calmly, "Now that you've signed, you can go to the Municipal People's Hospital to pick up your child. There are colleagues there doing a medical examination of the injuries. You just need to go and sign something."

He didn't mention a word about what happened last night.

Su Qing stood up, thanked him, and turned to leave.

As she passed that office, she paused for a moment and met Liu Decheng's gaze through the glass.

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Liu Decheng's face twitched, and he subconsciously shrank back.

Su Qingchong smiled at him, waved, and left.

The system coldly spoke in her mind: [Host, based on the intensity of last night's conflict, if the other party files a civil lawsuit, your probability of winning is approximately 63%.]

"But there's still 63."

[As a young adult woman, your behavior is significantly out of line with the statistical average. A normal person wouldn't beat up a child's adoptive parents to the point of hospitalization on the very night of adoption.]

"Isn't that abnormal?"

Su Qing stopped in front of the vending machine at the hospital entrance, bought a can of coffee, and then, after thinking for a moment, bought a carton of children's milk.

"Why doesn't anyone say they're abnormal when they hit children?"

The system remained silent for a second.

[A logically closed loop. Irrefutable.]

The pediatric ward is located on the third floor of the inpatient department of the Municipal People's Hospital.

When Su Qing arrived, a female doctor was standing at the end of the corridor, looking through the test report in her hand, her brows furrowed deeply.

A uniformed police officer stood nearby, holding a notebook, and his expression wasn't very pleasant.

"Miss Su?"

The female doctor looked up and saw her, sizing her up and down, her tone slightly uncertain, "Are you here to pick up Jiang Ran?"

"right."

The doctor was silent for a moment, then turned to the first page of the report and began to speak.

Her tone was very restrained, as if she was trying to maintain the composure of a professional, but with each sentence she spoke, her voice became even lower, as if she was afraid of being heard by others in the corridor.

"Multiple soft tissue contusions all over the body, with old and new injuries overlapping. There are marks on the back and upper arms from being whipped with a strip-shaped object. Judging from the degree of healing, the earliest one can be traced back to four months ago."

"There is an old fracture in my rib that did not receive proper treatment and has not healed properly on its own, resulting in a slight deformity."

She turned a page.

"Moderate malnutrition, with height and weight significantly below the average for children of the same age, by nearly two standard deviations. Iron deficiency anemia."

Another page has been turned.

"There are five cigarette burn scars on the body, concentrated on the arms and calves. Two of them show signs of infection, indicating that no disinfection was performed after the injuries."

The doctor paused here, took a deep breath, and then continued reading.

"The child's psychological evaluation results are also in."

Her voice finally betrayed a hint of barely suppressed emotion: "Severe social withdrawal, selective mutism, and a significant stress response to the approach of adult men. The psychiatric colleagues wrote four words on the evaluation report..."

She turned to the last page of the report and handed it to Su Qing.

The above is a line of handwritten words by a psychiatrist. The handwriting is messy but forceful, as if the writer is carrying some kind of repressed anger.

"Be highly vigilant for PTSD (Post-traumatic Stress Disorder)."

The corridor was quiet for a few seconds.

The police officer standing next to him closed his notebook, muttered something under his breath, and turned to walk to the end of the corridor.

Su Qing looked down at the words, unconsciously squeezing the coffee can in her hand until it deformed slightly.

"[Host,]" the system's voice sounded, "[Your heart rate has increased eleven times in sixty seconds, and your grip strength index is forty percent above the normal range.]"

[Deep breathing is recommended.]

Su Qing didn't say anything.

She placed the coffee can on the windowsill next to her and asked the doctor, "Is she awake now?"

"Awake."

The doctor put the report away. "She hasn't said a word since she was brought in last night. When we tried to do a physical exam, she didn't cry or make a fuss; she just huddled in the corner of the bed staring at the door. She would tremble if anyone approached."

She looked at Su Qing, hesitating to speak, "From now on..."

"I know," Su Qing interrupted her, her tone sounding no different from usual, calm and indifferent. "There will be plenty of time in the future."

She pushed open the ward door and went inside.

The curtains were drawn, and the room was dimly lit.

On the hospital bed by the window, a small figure was curled up in the blanket, almost undetectable.

A bottle of nutrient solution hung on the IV stand next to the bed, and the clear liquid dripped down one drop at a time.

Jiang Ran is awake.

She lay on her side on the hospital bed, facing the door, her eyes wide open, just like they had been on the balcony the night before—dark, heavy, like a stagnant pool.

Su Qing walked over and sat down on the chair next to the bed. The two stared at each other for a few seconds.

Then Su Qing took out the carton of children's milk from her pocket, inserted the straw, and placed it on the bedside table.

"Drink it," she said, "it's strawberry flavored."

Jiang Ran didn't move or speak, she just stared at her with her lifeless eyes.

Su Qing didn't rush her. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, placed her hands on her knees, and asked earnestly.

"Little friend, has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like me? Look at our eyes, they're both black, what a coincidence!"

Jiang Ran, of course, did not answer.

"That's why I want to adopt you."

Su Qing made a decisive conclusion, her tone incredibly smooth and natural, "From now on, you'll be working for me, and you'll live the high life."

System: [...Host, your story is no different from that of a human trafficker.]

Su Qing pretended not to hear.

She stood up, walked to the window, and reached out to pull the curtains open halfway.

The afternoon sun suddenly flooded in, illuminating the entire ward.

Jiang Ran, lying on the bed, squinted at the bright light and shrank further under the covers.

Su Qing turned around, looked at her against the light, and smiled: "Alright, you'll be discharged after a few days of rest. I'll take you home."

Jiang Ran's eyes, buried under the covers, twitched slightly.

no respond.

But Su Qing noticed that her gaze shifted from the doorway and landed on the box of strawberry milk.

Su Qing didn't say anything, walked to the bedside and pushed the milk towards her, then sat back down in the chair and took out her phone to start scrolling.

The ward remained quiet for a long time.

Then Su Qing heard a very soft, almost inaudible sound of a plastic straw being pinched.