Chapter 719: Shattered Countdown

The last time I saw Teacher Xiao Lu up close was two hours ago.

At that moment, the countdown in her eyes read three hours, seven minutes, and forty-two seconds; now, barely a little over an hour remains.

After sitting quietly in the security booth for about two hours, Lu Xin stepped out. He finished a cigarette outside the school’s large iron door, stubbed it out on the ground, stretched his body lightly, and then reentered.

He headed straight for the teaching building.

With the countdown nearing zero, Teacher Xiao Lu’s enforcer was on its way.

Of course, he would remain by her side at this time.

Even if, for him now, sitting outside the security booth felt hardly any different from standing by her side.

Inside the teaching building, quiet reigned. The children had been arranged by Teacher Xiao Lu into a dormitory on the first floor near the west-side auditorium, and they were instructed not to come out no matter what they heard.

She herself stayed in an office on the east side of the third floor.

It was as if, on some subconscious level, she wanted the children to keep as far away from her as possible, so that if something happened, they wouldn’t be affected.

And with Qinggang currently under immense pressure under those ever-watchful eyes—chaos looming at any moment—it was even less safe to stay outside the elementary school. Perhaps Teacher Xiao Lu had already arranged for them to leave.

Lu Xin ascended the stairs in silence and arrived at the door of the third-floor office, where he gently knocked.

When no one answered, he automatically opened the door using a key he had taken from the old security guard.

The office was dimly lit.

This elementary school had been converted from a villa, and Teacher Xiao Lu’s office was once the study of a wealthy family.

The space was vast, with various types of light sources installed everywhere.

Yet now, Teacher Xiao Lu had only turned on the desk lamp.

As a result, most of the office was engulfed in deep, gloomy darkness, with only a small patch of brightness at the front.

She sat in a wheelchair, dressed in clean clothes, her head bowed, and a blanket draped over her legs.

The room felt rather cold.

Upon hearing Lu Xin enter, she did not lift her head; she simply remained seated in silence by the desk.

Lu Xin stood at the door for a moment, then slowly walked in, pulled out a chair, and sat in the center of the office.

He made sure not to sit too near or too far from Teacher Xiao Lu.

The two sat in silence, maintaining that distance without a word.

Lu Xin couldn’t get close enough to read the countdown in her eyes, but he had already calculated that with one hour remaining until zero, the enforcer’s arrival was about an hour away.

Yet every time he approached Teacher Xiao Lu, the countdown in her eyes seemed to speed up.

By that reckoning, the enforcer’s arrival might even come sooner.

But it didn’t matter; since they were bound to arrive eventually, he didn’t mind meeting them a bit early.

……

……

“Lu Xin…”

The silence had stretched on so long that the oppressive atmosphere in the office became almost unbearable.

Teacher Xiao Lu, seemingly unable to bear the pressure any longer, finally raised her head softly after a long pause and said,

“I’m here.”

Sitting in his chair, Lu Xin smiled and replied in a low voice.

“You really…”

Teacher Xiao Lu hesitated for a moment before asking, “Are you really going to stay here with me?”

“Aren’t you worried that there might be danger?”

“……”

Lu Xin offered her a gentle smile and said quietly, “I’m not afraid of danger.”

Teacher Xiao Lu looked at him; from his calm, smiling face, she recognized a familiar shadow.

This made her body shudder slightly, as she hugged herself.

After a long pause, as if struggling to control her emotions, she managed to lift her head and, with a trembling voice, said,

“I know you’re trying to protect me…”

“But have you ever thought that maybe I deserve this?”

“……”

“Deserve it…”

Lu Xin felt a deep sense of guilt in Teacher Xiao Lu’s tone.

It struck him as strangely odd.

After a moment, he softly asked, “Then why didn’t you tell me what made you think this way?”

“Because…”

Teacher Xiao Lu’s lips trembled as she spoke, her expression filled with despair, “Some things aren’t as you’d imagine. Some people aren’t as good as you think. You’re genuinely kind because you always see the best in others, but there are those who don’t deserve that kindness. No matter how well they pretend, there will always be vengeful souls lurking in the corners…”

Her tone was so strange.

For some reason, Lu Xin felt a sudden prickling of goosebumps while listening.

He abruptly looked up and met Teacher Xiao Lu’s eyes.

So close now, he saw the countdown in her eyes dropping at a frantic pace.

He waited for her to continue, only to find that she had fallen silent.

Her face was etched with conflict, as if torn by a painful decision, words lodged in her throat which she couldn’t utter.

For someone waiting for an answer, it was an agonizing ordeal.

But Lu Xin wasn’t in a hurry.

After undergoing advanced training on Mental Pollution and Mutation, he had learned many of the intricate details he hadn’t known before.

For those affected by mental pollution, it was expected—and even necessary—to respect their silence.

To outsiders, it was puzzling why those affected by mental pollution suffered so much internal strife, why they wouldn’t open up when troubled, or why they were so adamant about not letting anyone sit on their bed—even when it was just a matter of enduring for a little while—compelling situations to spiral out of control.

It was as if Teacher Xiao Lu could have clarified everything with one sentence.

But Lu Xin knew that for those overwhelmed by mental pollution and erratic emotions, this was the norm.

It wasn’t a question of why, but rather that they simply couldn’t help it.

Every action carried a logic and a motive behind it.

What seemed like simple acts were, in reality, undermined by faulty logic and motivation.

A malfunctioning gear or insufficient fuel could halt an engine’s operation.

The sad truth was that many people could understand machinery, yet they couldn’t comprehend their own kin.

……

……

Professor Bai had mentioned during training that, in Qinggang, there was a vigorous push to cultivate doctor-type professionals in the field of mental and psychological care. Patience, not specialized skills, was the top priority in the assessments…

Lu Xin, who already held a university degree, had even considered getting certified.

Not to mention, now he was facing Teacher Xiao Lu.

As Lu Xin waited quietly and tenderly, Teacher Xiao Lu remained silent for a long while—as if deflated. Eventually, she shook her head slowly, unable to voice the words that had risen to her throat, though her emotions gradually settled.

“Wait for me a moment.”

After a while, she slowly pushed her wheelchair toward a corner by the wall.

Lu Xin stood up silently and followed her without a word.

Teacher Xiao Lu paused, her face forced into a smile as she asked, “Are you going to follow me all the way?”

“Yes.”

Lu Xin nodded gently while watching the nearly zeroed countdown in her eyes.

“But…”

Teacher Xiao Lu, looking slightly embarrassed while glancing at the interior door, whispered, “I need to go to the bathroom…”

“Hmm?”

Lu Xin looked briefly startled, then nodded lightly in response, “Oh.”

Turning around, he returned to his chair and continued waiting in silence.

With a reddened face, Teacher Xiao Lu turned and pushed her wheelchair through the interior door, switching on the light as she did.

The bright light temporarily eased the oppressive gloom in the office.

But as the door closed, it severed all the light once more.

Lu Xin sat quietly in the half-dark, half-lit living room, his body partially illuminated by the desk lamp from afar.

In the silence, he listened intently to the sounds around him.

From the bathroom, the faint sound of a wheelchair creaking was heard, and after a long while, the sound of running water from the faucet began.

And then, that sound continued without pause.

Lu Xin waited a while before getting up and heading straight to the bathroom door.

He went to push the door, only to find it was locked. After a brief pause, he stepped back and forcefully kicked it open.

With a loud bang, the door flew open, revealing a horrifying scene inside the bathroom.

Opposite the mirror, Teacher Xiao Lu, seated in her wheelchair, had already slashed her wrist with a paper cutter.

Hearing Lu Xin force the door open, she spun around sharply.

Lu Xin saw that her face was now marred by dark, spreading streaks.

She tried hard to force a smile, resembling a ghastly black flower.

Her lips were stitched shut with black filaments, and the wound on her wrist seemed almost alive as it split open wider, as if her mouth had twisted into a grotesque grin, all while fresh blood spurted out continuously.

Every spot splashed with blood made the air feel unnervingly surreal.

Hee hee hee…

Suddenly, Lu Xin heard the sound of children laughing.

That laughter was hauntingly familiar, as if coming from deep within his memories.

It was the echo of the orphanage days, when kids played games under the sun. Their laughter had crossed layers of time and now resonated in the surreal, blood-stained air. Lu Xin could even make out faint childhood silhouettes dancing in and out of view.

His heart began pounding faster.

It felt as if his heart was being squeezed relentlessly by tiny hands, overwhelmed with sorrow.

He had no choice but to force himself not to listen to those sounds or chase after those phantoms; he only looked down at Teacher Xiao Lu.

Her entire body was now crisscrossed with those black filaments, riddled with wounds.

The strange strands, like tender sprouts, had grown from her blood, filling the entire bathroom.

They pierced through her skin, emerged, and then burrowed back into her body.

Layer by layer, they stitched up her eyes, nose, and ears, making her resemble a tattered rag doll.

They writhed and tightened.

As if ready to hang her like a sinner in mid-air.

Beside her, Lu Xin saw familiar faces—it was the smiling faces of the children from the orphanage.

……

……

“Sigh…”

Lu Xin stood motionless at the door for a long moment before slowly moving forward.

He ignored the menacing black filaments, his expression tinged with sorrow.

Entangled in countless dark strands, he bent down gently, picked up the paper cutter from Teacher Xiao Lu’s hand, and tossed it aside.

Then, wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her up.

Teacher Xiao Lu’s tear-streaked face and muddled consciousness suddenly turned desperate as she struggled fiercely in Lu Xin’s arms, crying out, while her limbs thrashed against his shoulders and arms. The black filaments swarmed like mad, coiling around Lu Xin and creeping over the entire office, saturating it with the fresh stench of blood.

Her eyes, nose, and mouth had all been stitched shut with those black strands.

Yet the office was filled with wild laughter and agonized cries, intermingled in a chaotic, disjointed clamor.

The cheerful laughter of the children playing, those carefree sounds, intertwined to create an eerie atmosphere that overwhelmed the spacious office. In that moment, Lu Xin felt as though he had been dragged into a twisted, nightmarish memory, his mood crushed under a heavy sorrow.

Still, he disregarded all the surrounding madness and placed Teacher Xiao Lu on the sofa.

He retrieved the first-aid kit used for treating scrapes on the children and cleaned her wounds, wrapping them with bandages.

Only after finishing did he slowly sit up straight.

……

……

Surveying the inexplicable madness around him, he took a deep breath and suddenly shouted,

“Number Eight, come out and see me!”