Chapter 49: Memory

“Misunderstand?” She laughed cold. Ironic. “You and Yang Yufei ran the orphanage children as experiments—that’s fact. You say I misunderstand?”
“I said—they were weak. Weak have no right to choose fate.” Mu still patient. “Child, only the strong face hardship straight. How many times must I say it?”
Mu’s twisted view was rooted deep.
She never thought words alone would reform her foster mother—but thinking of years together, fire burned in her chest, pain sharp.
A moment she couldn’t tell wrist pain from heart pain—or both.
“You gave up the human body willingly—sleeping consciousness must be waking.” Mu rose, easy. “These days I’ll increase instrument radiation—push fallen-god power to the limit.”
“As you like.”
Mu said no more and left.
Alone—no contact outside, no strength, couldn’t manage anything larger than small motion.
Windows sealed. She stared at roses on the sill and laughed at herself.
Only confinement—not new.
Mu as nominal mother, power at the bureau—hiding her a few days was easy.
From adoption she’d never had the right to choose freely.
That night in dream her spirit drifted to a rainy night seven years ago.
First day of adoption.
Mu knelt, gentle eyes on her: “Child, from today I’m your mother. If it’s strange you can call me Aunt Mu first.”
Bullied, malnourished—Mu had to kneel to meet her eyes level.
New place—unfamiliar.
But Mu’s tone was so soft she eased a little, gripped worn hem: “All right… Aunt Mu.”
Mu looked at her old clothes, called Liu-ge at once: “Buy clothes now. My card.”
“Aunt Mu, don’t need…”
“You’re my child now. Dress proper—shows status.” Mu stroked her head with motherly warmth. “Remember—only tough flowers bloom well.”
Years in the orphanage taught her to hear extra meaning—sometimes over-read.
With Mu she didn’t.
Maybe the gaze was too gentle—rescued from hell—she really believed this foster mother.
She’d heard Mu was a lord above. Never asked why, among better choices, Mu picked her alone.
Maybe heaven had eyes—fortune at last.
Liu-ge came fast with bags—things children her age liked, full sack.
Mu glanced once: “Years with me and you still can’t handle errands?”
Liu-ge went white. She spoke timely: “Aunt Mu, I like them.”
Mu’s eyes softened, sent Liu-ge out. Door closed—meaningful: “Child, no rush. Long days ahead.”
Next day Mu took leave for her and brought her to the mall.
“Child, pick what you like.”
She didn’t move. Mu took the most expensive items and paid, sent her home, then went to the bureau.
“I’ll handle school transfer. In a few days you’ll attend.” Soft. “I’m busy. Stay good at home these days—Liu-ge will care for you.”
She clutched new clothes and nodded fast.
Woke to familiar-strange ceiling—another lifetime away.
After sleep the drug faded—she could move, still weak.
Mu’s caution would have two hands ready: no fallen-god power, not enough strength to fight, not dead either.
She lit the lamp—couldn’t tell day from night.
Routine she knew too well.
Phone taken—contact outside by knocking; someone answered reasonable requests.
No useful clues in the room.
Knocked on the door: “Where’s Aunt Mu?”
Outside seemed to daze, then: “Director’s busy with official work. Tell me what you need.”
“Please tell Aunt Mu—I want sandwiches she makes herself.”
“Team Leader Yi, that…”
“Sister outside—it’s just passing a message. Aunt Mu only limited my movement—not forbidding talk, right?”
“I’ll pass it on.”
Days after Mu didn’t visit—no chance to fish for clues.
Missing this long—Bai Yanci would come. Wait patient—gather as much intel as possible.
Under instrument radiation she couldn’t use power but felt it grow—her face drawing closer to Xi Yue’s.
Staff answered every request—food, medicine—careful. Discomfort eased.
Shut the instruments down—no need for Bai Yanci—she could flee alone.
One day besides soup came a red pill.
Experimenter watched her: “Director ordered—I watch you swallow.”
She didn’t fight—swallowed. After they left she spat it out, flushed down the toilet.
Instinct said—not good.
Only tonic soup; pills spat out secretly—experimenter suspected nothing. Days like that.
Except meal times they didn’t enter—private space enough.
Room matched her old home—art supplies moved in too.
No clues—she painted to kill time.
Deep night light steps beside her. She held breath—familiar voice: “Your skill is still as good as ever.”
Silent. Mu again: “Don’t fake sleep. I know you’re awake.”
“Why are you here?”
“These days you’ve recovered enough. I’ll take you to the lab.” Pause. Slow. “When we’re back I’ll make sandwiches.”
“All right.” No choice now.
Door open—Mu led her to a small lab.
She lay obedient on the table: “Aunt Mu, when your plan succeeds perfectly—will you spare my life?”
Hearing the address Mu froze a moment: “What did you call me?”
“Aunt Mu.” Again. “Will you spare my life?”
“Of course.” Mu answered.
“But you told me before—cut the weeds root and branch. Never leave trouble behind.”
Mu smiled: “You’re only a child. Why would I hold a grudge against a child?”
Experiment ran normal—instruments scanned her body.
Machines stopped. Mu’s voice at her ear: “You didn’t take the medicine on schedule.”
“I was afraid of poison.”
“You know I wouldn’t poison you.” Mu shut the machines. “No more tricks—or what holds you won’t be the lab but the cell.”
“Lab or cell—same to me.” Absent. “I’m just a specimen. Anywhere is the same.”
Mu’s eyes darked—didn’t expect that.
Mu brought her back to the room herself. Experiment incomplete—still went to the kitchen, made two sandwiches: “You are a specimen—but my most important one.”
Mu left the line and walked out.
She took the sandwich—exhaled at last.
Longer than planned. All she could do was buy Bai Yanci time.
She looked at both sandwiches—after thought didn’t throw them all away.
Mu cooked well. After transfer, when the bureau had no emergency, Mu often made breakfast sandwiches herself.
One bite—familiar taste.
Things had shifted quiet. Same kind of place—not the same person.
Days after she could only take medicine obediently—no more tricks.
On the table again she asked: “Aunt Mu, can you buy me new clothes?”
Locked up, no occasion to go out—Mu still said: “Yes. Tell me what you want—the staff will buy.”
“That shop we always used—pick the most expensive.”
“All right.” Mu agreed at once.
Same scan again—then noise outside, experimenter panicked: “Director—someone broke in!”
Mu’s eyes went sharp: “Who found this place!”
“Movement too fast—even Liu-ge can’t stop her!”
“Abort experiment—emergency evac!”
Bound on the table—two experimenters lifting her—a white light flashed, threw them back.
“Ke-ke, I’m here.” Bai Yanci’s gaze was ice. “Touch her and I take your life.”