Salvation

“First step: absolutely, under no circumstances are you to casually erase your memories again.”

Nan Changgeng held up one finger, stopping just short of her nose, and laid down the rule.

Yu Mao clearly didn’t understand. Her blank, dazed expression made both eyes drift inward to stare at the finger until she was nearly cross-eyed.

Nan Changgeng withdrew her hand, curled it into a fist, and coughed lightly against the corner of her mouth. The heaviness in her heart eased somewhat as she explained seriously:

“Human memory is an important part of self-awareness, you know. If you throw away everything except me, you’re throwing away the ability to grow and refine your own personality. To be able to perceive only one person in the whole world; how incomplete would that be?”

“You don’t even know who you are. What can you use to love me with? A vessel that only carries emotions?”

After hearing that, Yu Mao still hesitated. “But... if I see other things, then I won’t be able to belong entirely to you anymore.”

“...”

What a model of “sacrifice,” indeed. Nan Changgeng couldn’t help wondering whether Yu Mao’s indifference toward the outside world also meant she was, at her core, trying to castrate her own self.

But it had to be said: Yu Mao’s concern was actually very reasonable. She was thinking entirely for Nan Changgeng’s sake.

She was so pure because her personality was incomplete. Once it was filled in, once she could see a larger world outside, would she still feel such wholehearted devotion toward her?

At that point, would this painkiller still be so effective?

The thought flashed through her mind, and Nan Changgeng didn’t hesitate for even a second. If she truly lost her, it could only mean they were fated to meet but not to belong to each other. Compared to that, she would rather see Yu Mao’s real soul.

She wanted to see Yu Mao’s joys, anger, sorrows, and desires that belonged entirely to herself; she wanted to know what her original temperament was like, and she wanted to see her smile.

With a face that beautiful, it would be such a shame if she never smiled.

Her fingertips brushed the girl’s temple, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her gray-blue eyes rested on Yu Mao’s thin face with a faint tenderness.

“It’s fine. I want you to grow into yourself first; everything else can wait until after you’re fully grown.”

It was like she was instructing a sickly little sapling.

“Okay...”

Yu Mao tilted her head up and stared at her blankly. Her eyes flickered; something seemed to pass through the depths of them.

“When I’m grown... I’ll still all be yours.”

Nan Changgeng raised a brow meaningfully, a smile in her eyes. “You promise?”

Yu Mao nodded forcefully, solemn as if entrusting her life to that promise.

Nan Changgeng curved her lips. It was impossible to tell whether she believed her or not; she simply turned slightly and sat down beside her in a relaxed posture, then said:

“Good. Then tell me, what were you thinking just now? I’ll teach you the second step: learn to sense your own desires, then either act on them directly or tell me.”

Yu Mao froze for a moment and began to recall. Then she turned to stare straight at her and suddenly reached out to grab the woman’s collar.

“Just now, I wanted to do this.”

Nan Changgeng paused and lowered her head to look down with a complicated expression.

The hand was only clutching her collar, closed into a solid fist, with no hint of anything suggestive. The posture was almost like an infant, held in someone’s arms, instinctively reaching out to grasp at its mother’s chest.

“...Did you miss your mother?” she asked, puzzled.

Yu Mao let go, looking even more bewildered than she did. “No. I don’t remember what she looks like.”

She was silent for a moment before asking, “Can you still recover your past memories? Preferably everything before age eight.”

After being awakened all those years ago, Yu Mao had long been in a state of sensory deprivation toward the outside world, and those memories themselves were of little use. But before age eight, she had always remained highly perceptive to the world; those bits of information might be able to help her.

And recovering memories didn’t mean she would return to her former state, so there was no need to worry that she would be overwhelmed.

Yu Mao shook her head. “I don’t know. Where should I look?”

“Are the old surveillance recordings still there? The director of the welfare institution where you used to live gave them to you; you can try looking through them.”

Her head drooped. “I don’t remember..."

“You’re right. You really can’t throw away so many memories.”

Nan Changgeng felt something catch in her chest. She was both exasperated and amused, and she forcefully rubbed Yu Mao’s head. “Forget it. Your teacher should know; let’s go ask her. We can also let her know you’re safe. She must be worried about you.”

Yu Mao nodded hurriedly.

After resting for a while, she had already recovered somewhat, but she still didn’t refuse the woman taking her hand. Together they walked out of the room and knocked on the door opposite.

As soon as it opened, Lin Yan saw the child standing alive and well before her, and her expression was one of unmistakable delight; her eyes immediately reddened.

But she remained restrained, forcing down the urge to hug her. Only her smile brightened by more than a little.

“Are you all right?”

Nan Changgeng answered for her, smiling faintly. “She should be fine for the time being. If we go by the previous pattern, she should at least be able to grow nine more tails.”

Lin Yan’s eyes were wet. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, smiling from ear to ear. “I knew it. You really can help her.”

“Come in quickly; it’s just about time for lunch. Stay here and eat before you go,” Lin Yan said, stepping aside to let them in. “Is your recording schedule tight? You’re not in a hurry to get back, are you?”

“We’re not in a hurry. The director probably is,” Nan Changgeng said as she entered and, on the way, took out her phone to glance at it. The screen was full of unread messages asking how things were going.

She unlocked it, replied that everything was fine and they’d be back in the afternoon, then shoved the phone back into her pocket and didn’t look at it again.

If it weren’t for a little contract spirit still hanging on, she wouldn’t even want to keep recording this show. Having gained such a tender, fragile little seedling, her sense of novelty was at its peak; she was very eager to figure out how to raise her.

As for debt and liquidated damages... with the popularity they had now, making a quick sum of money was easier than anything. She had never felt much urgency when it came to money.

Once inside, Lin Yan went into the kitchen and came back out only a few seconds later, giving an awkward smile as she raised her phone. “I didn’t prepare any ingredients today, and cooking from scratch would be a bit too late. Let’s order takeout.”

“Sure.” Nan Changgeng had no particular demands when it came to food.

“Anything you can’t eat?”

“Not too good with spicy food.”

“Perfect. Neither am I.”

The three of them sat on the sofa while Lin Yan lowered her head and ordered on her phone. “You need to protect your voices when you sing, and I, as a teacher, need to protect mine too. I can’t go a day without throat lozenges.”

“You could try simmering pear soup yourself. It tastes pretty good,” Nan Changgeng replied casually, then turned her head to watch Yu Mao. Seeing that she was still in the state of only staring at her and completely ignoring everything around her, she suddenly asked:

“It’s almost one o’clock. Why do you think your teacher still hasn’t made lunch?”

Yu Mao froze, blinking blankly.

Something she hadn’t been paying attention to at all was suddenly posed to her as a question; anyone would need a few seconds to react.

Lin Yan looked up in confusion at the two of them.

“There are many possibilities,” Yu Mao said seriously, starting to think, but she couldn’t give a precise answer. “I can’t be sure. I think asking the teacher directly would give the answer.”

Nan Changgeng kept her patience. “Then why do you think I’m asking you instead of asking your teacher?”

Yu Mao froze again and spent even longer thinking before answering with great seriousness, “Based on our previous exchanges, the most likely answer is that this is also one of the ways you help me.”

“Correct.” Nan Changgeng smiled, one hand resting on her shoulder. “So answer me: what do you think the reason is? Think carefully.”

Yu Mao unconsciously pressed her lips together.

Lin Yan watched in confusion, not daring to make a sound. Although Nan Changgeng’s tone was gentle, she somehow sensed a hidden threat beneath that softness.

It was a bit like those teachers who wore a kind smile while asking students to answer questions, waiting for the child to get one wrong so they could immediately change expression and call the parents.

Yu Mao felt something similar, but her pressure didn’t come from Nan Changgeng; it came from her own unwillingness to give her a wrong answer.

So she thought very hard, recalling as much as she could. Her extremely low sensitivity to external matters made judgment difficult, like an old program running slowly decades ago: it would list out each possibility one by one, mark their likelihoods, and then pick the highest one from among them.

“Insufficient information; cannot determine.”

Yu Mao frowned. “Based on the information I can currently understand, only emotional factors provide the most complete supporting conditions. That is, if there’s a problem with my condition, there’s a ninety-nine percent chance it will make the teacher unhappy, which would then also make it highly likely she wouldn’t be able to eat. As for anything else, I have no way of knowing.”

“..."

Nan Changgeng fell silent.

Lin Yan lowered her head and silently covered her forehead. She wasn’t surprised at all.

“A perfect answer.”

Yu Mao ignored the unclear tone and stared stubbornly at Nan Changgeng.

“Changgeng, are you satisfied?”

“Not quite.” Nan Changgeng’s attitude was rather strict. Once her expression grew serious, her deep, sharp features became rather intimidating.

“She’s your teacher. You should care about her more. At the very least, you should be able to pick up on these things when she speaks, rather than only thinking about them when I ask you.

“And besides this, you don’t know anything else about her. Given your relationship, that isn’t normal.”

Yu Mao wasn’t the least bit frightened by her expression. Her perception of Nan Changgeng’s emotions was extremely sharp, and she could easily tell whether she was angry.

Right now, she clearly wasn’t; she was only trying hard to make herself look more stern to create some deterrence.

For some indescribable reason, Yu Mao suddenly felt a little itch somewhere in her heart, like a feather lightly brushing against it.

Her voice also became softer. “I can repay her care for me with money.”

At last, Lin Yan couldn’t help but interject, joking as if she were enjoying the show too much: “Aren’t all your assets supposed to be left to Changgeng?”

Yu Mao didn’t have time to answer before Nan Changgeng cut in first, frowning in astonishment. “What will? She made a will for me?”

Lin Yan smiled and nodded. “Yes. She went to make one as soon as she started earning money. All her property will belong to you after she dies.”

Nan Changgeng pressed a hand to her brow and, after two seconds of silence, actually managed to digest the matter quite easily.

In just half a day, Yu Mao had already raised her emotional threshold to an unbelievable level.

“Let’s not talk about that for now.” After all, she was still very much alive. She turned back to Yu Mao. “I’m giving you a task. Deepen your understanding of your teacher. Go sense her until you feel that she lives in the same world we do.”

Lin Yan drew in a soft breath and leaned back against the sofa, her expression slightly complicated. She vaguely guessed what Nan Changgeng wanted to do.

She actually wanted to “cure” her.

After trying for so many years, she had long since given up hope. Could this now be a turning point?

She carefully watched Yu Mao’s eyes as they turned toward her; those dark eyes were empty, yet a point of light had gathered within them, trembling faintly.

That was a brief struggle.

“Okay.” Yu Mao didn’t show much hesitation.

But Lin Yan was certain she hadn’t sensed wrong.

She couldn’t help murmuring, “She has self-awareness. She doesn’t want to agree... her desire is in conflict with your order.”

Nan Changgeng was stunned, then asked Yu Mao, “Why don’t you want to?”

Yu Mao thought hard for a long while before spitting out two words:

“Betrayal.”

“This isn’t betrayal...”

There really was an element of self-choice here. Nan Changgeng’s words paused; a swollen, aching fullness drifted through the hollow in her heart, nearly leaving her so satisfied she wanted to sigh.

Trying to persuade her further would somehow feel falsely self-righteous, like taking an advantage and still pretending to be hard done by. She simply approached it from a self-interested angle instead:

“You have to make your world bigger first. Only then will the love you give me be complete; and by then, your love will also become more precious.”

Yu Mao’s gaze flickered.

“I understand. Love that remains loyal when you still have choices is more precious than love with no other option. I’ll give you something better.”

“Sharp as anything.” Nan Changgeng curved her lips in satisfaction. “I wonder what kind of dazzling person you’ll be once you’ve recovered.”