Sell her?
Shen Yi looked down at her fingers, a thought drifting through her mind.
Compared to waiting to be sold off, it was clearly safer to kill these two herself and then escape.
True.
At her current age, she did need a guardian, but that didn't mean she needed a pair of dangerous criminals as foster parents.
The couple had only adopted a child to throw off suspicion. They wouldn't even give her a scrap of food most days. When hunger gnawed at her, she had to resort to drinking cold water.
After mulling over this dangerous thought twice, Shen Yi ultimately gave it up.
The cost of murder was too high.
She was too young. The man and woman were both clearly trained. If she botched the operation, she could easily get killed in return.
The gain wouldn't be worth the loss.
She let go of the idea with regret. The couple was still arguing, completely unaware of the dangerous child they had fostered.
They moved several times.
Each time, they left in the middle of the night, stuffing their belongings haphazardly into woven bags. The woman would yank Shen Yi's arm and drag her out, her movements so rough it felt like she could dislocate a shoulder.
Suddenly, Shen Yi remembered something and asked in her mind, "System, can I go see my mother?"
"Ms. Wen?"
"No," Shen Yi said quietly, raindrops splattering onto her shoes, "the other mother. The one I've never met."
The System was silent longer than usual. "You can. But only after the other you is born. Don't meet her before that—the chain of cause and effect won't allow it."
Shen Yi understood what that meant.
If she did something to change things, that other "Shen Yi" would never be born.
Her current existence was essentially a shadow cut from the future. If she touched the wrong person or did the wrong thing, the entire chain of causality could snap.
"If the other you is born, your existence will be forgotten," the System added.
After all, the two of them were fundamentally the same person.
Once that "Shen Yi" was born, this "Shen Yi's" existence would be overwritten by the world's consciousness—erased like a pencil mark, without leaving a trace.
"But don't lose heart, Shen Yi. You have to believe that blood ties are the deepest bonds! You can go visit your mother, or maybe your younger brother..."
Shen Yi said, "It'll be a long time until my brother is born. Do I have to stay here for a long time?"
The System answered, "Yes."
Shen Yi sighed and rolled over. At night, she often ached with hunger.
Sometimes, when the man was in a bad mood, he'd want to show off his Chinese kung fu skills on the woman, turning the place into a domestic violence scene.
The woman fought back just as fiercely, and they'd brawl all day.
Their home was a constant arena for mixed martial arts. When they got too heated, they'd also try to take it out on her.
At those times, Shen Yi ran faster than a dog.
She never let them lay a hand on her.
This always made the man grumble, "Usually you don't say a word, like you're mute. But when it comes to running, you're fast enough."
Shen Yi couldn't even be bothered to glance at him. She curled up in a corner, pulling her thin clothes tighter.
Day after day, she scraped by. Outside the window, the snow melted and fell again, melted and fell.
She counted the days, unsure how much longer she'd have to endure here.
...
A weapons depot under the Shen family's control was set off. Flames shot into the sky, and the explosion shook half the city.
The losses on the books stretched out in a long list, the figure enough to make anyone's eyelids twitch for three days straight.
When Shen Sixing was fifteen, his family threw him out to gain experience.
He had no money, no place to stay, and was surrounded by people tasked with monitoring him.
He muddled through three years.
Now he was eighteen, and his family probably figured it was time to give him something to practice on.
So they dumped this mess in his lap.
Find the hostile organization that blew up the ammunition depot, root out every faction, and wipe them out completely.
The family had given him enough hands and subordinates. Every plan, every decision point, was his alone to approve.
Because of this, he hadn't slept for three days straight.
Shen Sixing lived in a rundown rented room.
He had no habit of cleaning.
When he was first kicked out at fifteen, his knowledge of the outside world was limited to the internet. He didn't even know how to use a gas stove.
He once tried sitting on the edge of his bed, hungry, wondering how long he could hold out.
But he discovered that starving too much actually kept him awake. He'd toss and turn, his stomach churning like a dull knife.
Unable to vomit, he just curled up and waited for dawn.
With no other choice, Shen Sixing went to find some money to scrape by.
It wasn't about living well—it was about keeping hunger from ruining the fluency of his dazed state.
On the gambling tables, Shen Sixing learned fast.
After three rounds, he could figure out the rules of the game. By the fifth, he'd start raking in money; by the tenth, he'd fold and walk away.
Money came easily, but spending it was too boring.
Dull.
His life was like a stagnant pool.
The surface was perfectly still, with not even a fish beneath it.
Morning light squeezed through the gap in the curtains.
When his subordinate called, the young man casually hung up and turned off the phone. He pressed the pillow hard onto his face, pushing down so fiercely he almost wished he could embed his entire head into the mattress.
The blanket was kicked into a mess, half of it hanging off the bed.
The room was very quiet.
So quiet that Shen Sixing could hear the blood flowing in his eardrums—noisy enough to drive him crazy.
...He just wanted to die.
