“Mom, want to go take a look?”
Su Bingyao said.
This surveillance footage would serve as direct evidence to prove that Su Shang wasn’t human. It would also clear him of the suspicion that something was wrong with his head.
If he just claimed it with empty words, she’d doubt how true it was. But if she saw the surveillance footage herself, that should settle it!
“Let’s go.”
No matter how Li Qingshu racked her brain, she couldn’t make sense of it. Her youngest son might not be her biological child, but she’d raised him for more than twenty years and watched him grow up. He looked human through and through.
How could he suddenly change species after falling off a cliff?
She refused to believe it on instinct.
Yet what had just happened was far too bizarre, and her eldest son was vouching for it.
Su Bingyao had always been reliable in her eyes. He had no reason to lie—and even if he did, there was no need to invent something so outrageous just to cover for his brother. Now the estate’s surveillance had picked up an anomaly. They might as well go check it out.
Seeing was believing!
Just as Li Qingshu and Su Bingyao turned toward the Surveillance Center, Luo Shang was making his way in his wheelchair to Su Mingyao’s villa.
Su Mingyao’s villa was still some distance away. The path wasn’t all smooth pavement either—there were cobblestone walkways, steps, and the like.
When he encountered such obstacles, Luo Shang didn’t bother getting out of the wheelchair. Instead, he piloted it through with expert skill, drawing anguished wails from the System.
“What’s with the yelling? You’re so annoying.” Luo Shang finally snapped, cutting off the System’s cries.
“I know you’re fine—your Vehicle Driving Skill is nearly maxed out—but please don’t show it off like this.” The System’s voice carried a note of despair.
“This isn’t some other Supernatural Ability. It’s just wheelchair driving skill. Any ordinary human could pull this off.” Luo Shang replied.
“Assuming they’ve practiced wheelchair techniques specifically for over ten years,” the System pointed out.
“Exactly. So I said humans can do it. I didn’t use any Supernatural Ability.” Luo Shang replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“As long as the people at the banquet see me as frail, that’s all that matters. The guests haven’t even arrived yet.”
Luo Shang didn’t care if Su Bingyao or the rest of the Su Family found out he wasn’t actually frail. The original plot didn’t include anything like that anyway.
He just needed the guests to think he was.
If revealing his Supernatural Ability to the Su Family directly wouldn’t mess with following the plot—since the original Su Shang had no such abilities—Luo Shang would have used them to get around long ago. He wouldn’t be scrimping like this, relying solely on a Vehicle Driving Skill.
To him, Supernatural Abilities were as natural as breathing, like using his own hands and feet. Being suddenly unable to wield them freely left him feeling downright uncomfortable, as if half his body had gone lame.
“But you weren’t like this before entering the Reincarnation Space,” the System said.
“You may have spent ages in the Reincarnation Space, but to the Su Family, you’ve only been in the hospital a few days—and now this change.”
At least pretend a little for their sake. Don’t just drop the act cold!
The System held back its final plea, hoping Luo Shang would take the hint.
“Oh, that’s simple,” Luo Shang said.
“I’ll just give them a reason. I fell because I was speeding off that cliff, right? So I’ll say I honed my driving skills in a dream over those few days.”
This excuse… who would buy such a lame excuse? No normal person would!
The System roared silently in its mind.
“You seem to have a problem with my excuse?” Luo Shang asked.
“…”
Shouldn’t it? The System fell silent.
Luo Shang turned the phone toward himself, holding it up slowly.
“See? Big Bro thinks it’s fine.”
The screen showed a chat window labeled “Big Bro.”
Luo Shang: “Bro, I had a dream when I got to the hospital. When I woke up, I knew how to drive the wheelchair. So I don’t need Little Liang pushing me anymore—I can move on my own.”
Su Bingyao: “Okay.”
Luo Shang: “Bro, you don’t think there’s anything weird about that?”
Su Bingyao: “Nothing weird.”
Su Bingyao: “That’s perfectly normal. I learned to ride a bike in a dream too.”
Luo Shang: “Yeah, exactly.”
After reading the exchange, the System lapsed back into silence.
Was it the only one with any common sense here?
But it was the only non-human in the bunch, wasn’t it?
…Wait. The System suddenly realized what was wrong.
Big Bro only thought it was normal because he hadn’t seen how Luo Shang was handling the wheelchair!
If he had, he never would have said that!
Of course, if he did see it, the world might reset all over again…
What the System didn’t know was that even if Su Bingyao saw how Luo Shang controlled the wheelchair, he could still shamelessly insist it was perfectly normal.
Five minutes earlier.
Su Bingyao clutched his Live-Streaming Phone, staring at the question Luo Shang had sent him. Cold sweat nearly soaked through the back of his shirt.
Why was Su Shang asking something like that?
Had he noticed something? In that instant, Su Bingyao’s mind whirled, spinning out half a dozen possibilities.
Was this a test?
Had he overheard my conversation with Mom? Why else would he bring up something so absurd, fishing to see if I’d agree? Was he trying to bluff me?
If I say “yes,” what will he do?
If I say “no,” will he wipe out the world again now that I’ve spotted his anomaly?
Yes or no? Right or wrong?
The crushing weight of it all bore down on Su Bingyao until he thought he might be sick. To him, the fate of the entire world had narrowed to that single phone in his hand—to his reply. It was so heavy he could hardly grip the device, his palm slick and slippery with sweat.
Su Shang wouldn’t wait forever; if he got impatient, things could go south. Better to reply within thirty seconds…
Seconds dragged by. After agonizing deliberation, Su Bingyao made his fateful choice.
He went with “yes.”
To keep it from sounding too abrupt, he quickly tacked on an example from his dream—how he’d learned to ride a bicycle—to prop up Su Shang’s claim as totally normal.
He’d done all he could. Now it was up to Su Shang to decide.
Would the world end or not?
Su Bingyao squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath for the final judgment.
Christianity taught that when God came down, He’d deliver the ultimate verdict: the world would perish, the faithful rising to heaven while sinners plummeted to Hell. Su Bingyao had always sneered at the idea, dismissing believers as idiots. But in that moment, he finally got it—he understood exactly how those devotees must have felt.
He waited in silence. Ten minutes passed, and the world kept turning.
Su Bingyao exhaled a long, shaky breath. Relief washed over him at last.
He’d passed the test!
His gamble had paid off. The world was safe—for now!
Wonderful, wonderful—hahahaha!
Li Qingshu watched his wild mood swings from the side and wondered if they had piled too much pressure on Boss. Was that why he suddenly seemed a little off mentally?
First the youngest son had started acting strange, and now the eldest too? Had bringing home the second son hit them that hard?
She could understand Su Shang’s issues. He’d been wrapped in luxury his whole life, shielded from real hardship. Learning he wasn’t blood-related after all—that was the biggest shock he’d ever faced. No wonder his mind was reeling; it was perfectly normal.
But what was Boss’s excuse? Was he cracking because Su Shang had?
That just didn’t add up!
“Never mind… it’s nothing, Mom. Let’s check the surveillance feed.”
Su Bingyao shoved his phone into his pocket.
Mom was too innocent. She’d never witnessed the end of the world… A feeble smile tugged at Su Bingyao’s lips.
