Chapter 36: I changed my mind

Now that Liu Zhile had no weapon, Liu Qiu wasn’t afraid of someone so thin and weak.

That was why she had taken the initiative to offer her food.

[Host, don’t be too kind.] The system reminded her. It was quite satisfied with the host maintaining emotional distance from humans in the small world—this way she wouldn’t develop feelings and abandon her return to the real world.

Liu Qiu stood up.
[She looks like she’s about to faint. I want her to last until the police arrive.]

The system scanned the human’s vital signs.
[Indeed, this human is already very weak.]

[But don’t do something like that again. A criminal might suddenly retaliate and hurt you.]

The electronic voice sounded especially rational.

Liu Qiu didn’t argue, because the system was right.

Kindness wasn’t something to give without caution just because someone looked pitiful.

Liu Zhile’s hair was a tangled mess from her own scratching.
She kept muttering, “Why won’t you look at my child?”

Her mental state was clearly unstable.

Liu Xia reached out and held Liu Qiu’s wrist, her voice slightly hoarse.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”

Liu Qiu nodded.
Hand in hand, they walked to the iron gate and closed it.
Even from here, they could still see Liu Zhile sitting collapsed in the courtyard.

Liu Xia called the police.
They had to wait for them to arrive and explain what had happened.

The sky remained heavy and overcast beneath the dark clouds.

Liu Xia’s gaze fell on Liu Qiu, her emotions complicated.

“Thank you, Liu Qiu.”

Liu Qiu pressed her lips together in what looked like a faint smile.
“It’s fine as long as you’re okay.”

Liu Xia took two mint candies from her coat pocket and handed them over.
“Want one?”

Liu Qiu didn’t refuse.
She took one from Liu Xia’s palm.

Tearing open the wrapper, she saw the emerald-green candy inside.
She placed it in her mouth, and a fresh mint scent filled her nose.

“Liu Qiu, why did you go so close to a dangerous person?” Liu Xia’s tone carried a trace of helplessness. “It was very dangerous.”

Liu Qiu thought for a moment before organizing her words.
“Liu Xia, she’s someone who grew up with us.”

She had only been worried Liu Zhile might faint, but she couldn’t say that directly.
The original host wasn’t that cold.
If she could still show kindness after almost being stabbed, it could only be because they had grown up in the same orphanage.

Liu Xia bit down on her mint candy and swallowed it.
“Liu Qiu, you’re too kind.”

Even children from the same orphanage rarely kept in touch after growing up, and Liu Qiu hadn’t had an easy time there.

Liu Qiu’s eyelashes trembled lightly.
Her fingers twisted nervously at the sides of her pants.
“Liu Xia… are you angry?”

Liu Xia smiled.
“You noticed.”

“I’m a little upset because I was the one who brought you here and let you run into something like this.”

More than anger, she felt guilt.
She didn’t know why she had frozen when Liu Qiu pulled her into that embrace.

If the dagger hadn’t broken, she didn’t dare imagine how much pain Liu Qiu would have suffered.

And once they realized everything was fine, Liu Qiu’s first instinct had been to comfort her, saying it was nothing.

Liu Xia said seriously, “Liu Qiu, I hope next time you’ll choose to protect yourself first.”

Lowering her gaze, even the thick lenses of her glasses couldn’t hide her long, straight lashes that fanned like small feathers.
A faint curve lifted at Liu Qiu’s lips.
“I’m fine. As long as you’re okay, Liu Xia.”

“We’re… we’re family. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Her voice was soft, but her words were direct.
After speaking, she looked up at Liu Xia.
“Sister, I only have you.”

That reassurance should work, right?

Liu Xia’s breath hitched.
She awkwardly avoided Liu Qiu’s gaze.

Liu Qiu’s eyes weren’t fiery or intense.
They were pure and sincere.

And it was precisely that kind of gaze that could make someone fall without noticing.

Children who grew up in orphanages longed most for a love that belonged solely to them.

Drip.

A raindrop fell onto her head.

Liu Xia looked up.
Fine rain had begun to fall.

The weather had been bad since morning.
If Liu Zhile’s incident hadn’t happened, they might have been inside the orphanage or already on their way back.

“Liu Qiu, go back first. I’ll wait here for the police.”

The rain was likely to grow heavier.
The orphanage was remote, the surrounding houses abandoned, and with Liu Zhile still inside, it wasn’t safe to reenter.

The sky grew darker, almost apocalyptic.
Cool rain tapped against their cheeks, dispersing some of the restlessness in their hearts.

Suddenly, something shifted above Liu Xia’s head.

A dark gray umbrella appeared.

It tilted slightly, shielding her from the rain.

Liu Xia’s heart trembled.
She turned to look at Liu Qiu.

The umbrella wasn’t very big; they had to stand closer together.

Liu Qiu had taken it from her small crossbody bag.
From the shoulder down, she was already damp.
She pressed her lips together shyly, dimples appearing briefly.
“Liu Xia, this way?”

She tried her best not to stand too close.

The rain grew heavier.
In the damp air, a faint mint scent lingered—the candy from earlier, carried by Liu Qiu’s breath.

Rain pattered against the umbrella.

Noticing Liu Xia staring at her silently, Liu Qiu asked again, “Liu Xia, am I standing too close?”

Liu Xia shook her head gently.
The surrounding noise seemed to fade away.

Their body heat mingled.

Liu Xia smiled, the brightness spreading into her eyes.
“Liu Qiu, if you treat me like this, how am I supposed to restrain my feelings?”

During her eight years abroad, it wasn’t that she had never considered dating.

She was an ordinary person.
She longed for love and desire.

But the people who approached her always had motives—lust, greed, curiosity.

Some even said, “Come on, let’s bet who can win over that pretty beta from Z Country first.”

She couldn’t separate desire from emotion.

What she had always wanted was simple—sincere favoritism.

Beneath Liu Qiu’s thin frame lay a gentle temperament, warm but never scorching.

Liu Xia reached out and pulled Liu Qiu tightly into her arms.
Her laughter carried a depth that could infect others.
“I’m completely done for.”

She was going to love Liu Qiu for the rest of her life.

She wouldn’t mind the eight years of lost contact.
The quiet personality.
The rare, pitiful little acts of spoiled behavior.
The way she shielded her in danger.
The way she tilted a small umbrella toward her in the rain.

When Liu Qiu looked at her, there was no calculation—only sincerity for Liu Xia herself.

Liu Qiu froze.
“L-Liu Xia…”

Liu Xia inhaled deeply and released her, draping an arm over Liu Qiu’s shoulders.
“This way, we can share the umbrella properly.”

Liu Qiu nodded.
“Okay.”

So this was what linking arms felt like.
She hadn’t expected someone as mature-looking as Liu Xia to do something like this.

She tilted the umbrella slightly more toward Liu Xia.
She was an alpha; Liu Xia was a beta.
Physically, the alpha body should be more resilient.

A little rain didn’t matter.

About twenty minutes later, the police car arrived.
The rain eased.

Liu Qiu’s legs ached from standing.
There was nowhere to sit.

Liu Zhile truly seemed insane.
Even in the heavy rain, she refused to go inside, letting herself be drenched completely.

Liu Xia calmly explained the situation to the police.

It didn’t take long.

When Liu Zhile saw the police, her eyes lit up with manic hope.
“Will you go look at my child?”

The officers tried to calm her.

Eventually, they agreed.

They had already prepared for the worst.

Inside the abandoned hall, a small body wrapped in cotton cloth lay on the lectern.

The closer they got, the stronger the stench became.

It was an infant’s corpse.

Liu Zhile’s smile stiffened.
“Look at my child.”

“She’s been sleeping for so long.”

“Is she sick?”

“But the doctor won’t see her. Grandma won’t see her either.”

Silence fell.

Liu Zhile was taken to the station.
The infant’s body was as well.

The investigation didn’t take long.

The infant had died from a rare illness.
Her partner had died half a year ago.
A week ago, the child died.
The shock had broken her mind.

She also had a five-year-old daughter.

When her adoptive parents had their own biological child, they had driven her away.

Her partner had also been an orphan.

Liu Qiu listened quietly, her chest tight with sadness.

Later, the five-year-old was brought in.

A small girl, only about knee-high, dirty and thin.

“Ma-ma…” she called timidly.

Through the glass, she pressed her hand against it.
“Mom!”

But Liu Zhile had no reaction.

The little girl began to cry.
“Mom… I’m here…”

The police eventually took the child away.

As they passed Liu Qiu, the little girl stumbled toward her.
“Ma-ma…”

Liu Qiu froze, looking down into those clear eyes.

The police gently picked the child up.

Liu Qiu lowered her gaze.

[System, is there any way to help Liu Zhile?]

[Host, that is a character’s fate. Excessive interference may cause more unexpected consequences. We are only passersby.]

When they left the station, the clouds had thinned.
Sunlight broke through.

Puddles dotted the road.
Liu Qiu stepped lightly through one, splashing a little water onto Liu Xia’s pant leg.

“Still thinking about Liu Zhile?”

Liu Qiu nodded honestly.
“It feels… very sad.”

Liu Xia reached out and took her hand.
Her fingers were cool and soft.
“She’ll get better.”

“And the child will be okay too.”

“In a few days, let’s go visit her.”

Liu Qiu looked at her.

Liu Xia smiled.
“I asked which orphanage they’re sending her to.”

“Someone looked like she was about to cry watching that child.”

“So let’s go see her more often. That way, when Liu Zhile recovers, she can take her back.”

Liu Qiu’s voice was soft.
“Aren’t you leaving next month?”

“I changed my mind.”

She didn’t elaborate.
Instead, she gently swung their joined hands.

“Liu Qiu, let’s find a place to live.”

“We won’t stay in a hotel anymore.”