Chapter 55: 021

Perhaps, to many uninformed outsiders, that day’s scene resembled a melodramatic love triangle:

One of the Guides was the recently much-discussed Wu Cisheng, and the atmosphere between the two other Sentinels was so tense it created the illusion they might start fighting at any second.

The gazes of several nearby onlookers were completely locked onto the trio. Even the security guards merely patrolling the Guidance Center discreetly kept an eye on the situation.

Unfortunately for the gossip-loving crowd, the two Sentinels did not fight. The imagined scene never materialized.

Wu Cisheng first replied to Luo Fei, who had spoken:

“This is my friend.”

“This is a patient I treated before.” With an unchanged expression, he introduced Luo Fei to Lucas, who had already walked up to them. He paused, then asked, “Weren’t you arriving in the afternoon? Why are you here so fast?”

Lucas’s expression cleared almost instantly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Back when they were still in Chunhui City, he had been the same way. Sometimes he’d be cursing one second, but the moment Wu Cisheng slightly raised his head, he’d fall silent, like a domestic dog reined in by its owner’s leash, sitting down obediently.

It was the same now. He even managed a fake smile at Luo Fei.

“What’s all that?”

Wu Cisheng had already smelled the fragrance and guessed what Lucas was carrying in his numerous bags, but his gaze still swept over the packages in Lucas’s hands regardless.

“I figured I couldn’t visit your mother for the first time empty-handed, so I just bought a few things.”

“You really didn’t need to.”

After a few casual exchanges, spoken as if no one else were present, Luo Fei seemed to understand something. A hint of disappointment crossed his face. By this point, he felt Wu Cisheng didn’t need to offer any polite words of farewell.

“So you two…”

Wu Cisheng feigned a slightly confused expression and, as an intern Guide, gave Luo Fei a few instructions. The latter’s expression became even harder to decipher.

“Guide Wu, thank you. I understand now.”

Wu Cisheng maintained his usual faint, clear smile. “Alright, I’ll be off then, since I have matters to attend to.”

Thus, the onlookers hoping for an explosive scene were left thoroughly disappointed. On an anonymous website built inside The Tower by some student, a Sentinel reenacted the two Sentinels’ short dialogue from that day through text that very evening.

Some users acquainted with Luo Fei said the guy had always been resistant to Guides due to some past incident. The Tower had assigned him several Guides before, and he’d refused them every time, claiming he was destined for a lifetime alone.

Someone immediately posted a link in a follow-up reply, detailing Wu Cisheng’s brief contact with Luo Fei during a previous exam.

Few knew much about Lucas. Many only knew he wasn’t a local; his first appearance was with Wu Cisheng. The only other information came from official public records: his level was reportedly very high, possibly reaching S-class?

The subsequent discussion revolved around the two Sentinels’ mental levels, Wu Cisheng’s past, and those who’d interacted with him recently or long before. The thread was incredibly lively.

By the time Wu Cisheng and Lucas left the Guidance Center and sat in the waiting lounge for their bus, Wu Cisheng had already scrolled past floor eight hundred.

That floor was no longer debating the two Sentinels; the focus had shifted to Wu Cisheng himself. The original poster declared that he’d obviously used the foreign Sentinel to politely reject Luo Fei. However, an anonymous user countered: it wasn’t necessarily manipulation; perhaps there were genuine feelings involved?

“Want an orange?”

Hearing the voice, Wu Cisheng shifted his gaze from his phone to see Lucas beside him, already picking through a bag of oranges despite his verbal question.

In stark contrast to his rough exterior, Lucas peeled the orange with meticulous precision, cleaning away every single white stringy strand from the segments.

“Sweet, right?” Lucas added. “I checked the forums beforehand and went to the shop the Guides recommended. It was pretty crowded.”

“Mhm, it’s sweet.”

The sweet, refreshing fruit pulp filled his mouth… Wu Cisheng chewed and swallowed four orange segments. The waiting hall designated for Heterogeneous Humans had seats spaced far apart, making their spot effectively a quiet booth.

He glanced up at the departure time on the display screen, then unlocked his phone to check the message he’d sent earlier to the nanny, Aunt Yang.

“By the way,” Wu Cisheng said, his tone ambiguous, “why did you say ‘first time visiting’ just now? Didn’t you go once before?”

At that time, he had still been in Chunhui City, back when his eyesight was still impaired. Lucas had gone to check on his mother’s condition on his behalf. It could hardly be considered a first visit.

“That was different,” Lucas explained. “One was me watching from outside the residential compound. This is me going back with you. Completely different.”

“I see.”

On the waiting hall’s display screen, the color for one bus bound for Wutong Town finally changed. Its status shifted from “Awaiting Boarding” to “Checking Tickets”.

Lucas reacted swiftly. Before the text on the display had even fully updated, he seemed to hear something and stood up, beginning to gather their luggage.

“Let’s go.”

Wu Cisheng hadn’t returned to Wutong Town for a long time and was completely unaware a new station had been built in town. After getting off the bus, he felt a bit lost seeing the unfamiliar place, momentarily unsure which direction to go. Contrarily, Lucas, who had visited once recently, was quite familiar with the area.

“It’s this way…”

Thus, a strange scene unfolded: a genuine local needing an outsider to guide him, explaining that the drop-off point had moved from the old station to the new one starting last year.

Drawing from his single past experience, Lucas informed him: previously, the walk from the old station to their designated residential community was only about three or four kilometers, close enough to walk. Now, the new station was much farther, at least a dozen kilometers away, requiring a taxi ride.

“I overheard an older lady talking about it on the bus last time.”

The native-born local, Wu Cisheng, nodded, as if suddenly enlightened. “So that’s how it is.”

The regular shuttle bus departed from White Harbor promptly at 12:35, arriving at Wutong Town at 14:22. The taxi ride took 31 minutes. When the familiar old convenience store came into view through the car window, it was already 14:53.

The store’s sign was noticeably more faded than in his memory. Outside, a round table was set up where the Boss and several elderly neighbors were playing cards.

Among them, one middle-aged woman wasn’t sitting. She constantly scanned the passing vehicles, as if searching for someone.

It was Aunt Yang. Knowing Wu Cisheng was coming back, she’d come downstairs early to wait for him.

He recalled the last time he saw Aunt Yang was at the beginning of the third year after he’d entered The Tower. He had given her six months’ salary at once, but she instead urged him, saying he looked thinner than the last visit, and told him not to be too frugal.

“Cisheng?!”

Aunt Yang hadn’t changed much from his memory; her accent was still the familiar local dialect. When her gaze fell on Lucas getting out of the car behind him, she looked twice at the very conspicuous Five Senses Regulator used by Sentinels on his neck. Honestly, they didn’t even need that device— his sheer size alone was enough to indicate he was no ordinary person.

Aunt Yang, who only reached Wu Cisheng’s shoulder, looked even shorter before Lucas. She smiled and asked, “Your name is Lucas? What a peculiar name. Are you Cisheng’s classmate or boyfriend? Goodness, you’re so tall! Where are your parents from? What do they do…”

Aunt Yang had this habit. Or rather, people of a certain age had similar tendencies— during pleasantries, they always liked to start by asking about the other person’s family.

Clearly, Lucas had never encountered this before, and he actually answered honestly, one question after another. Seeing the interrogation about to snowball, Wu Cisheng had to proactively change the subject to stop Aunt Yang’s further questioning.

The group headed toward the apartment building. Aunt Yang updated Wu Cisheng on his mother’s recent life. Since switching to a new medication in the first half of the year, although a side effect was longer sleeping hours, her episodes of illness were less frequent than before.

“When Jiao woke up last time, the day before yesterday, she actually asked about what you were doing. I just said you were working outside, and she replied, ‘Oh’.”

The group ascended to the fourth floor. Aunt Yang stopped before the door on the left, pulling a key from her pocket to unlock it. “It’s like this: she takes a two-hour nap every day after lunch. She’s still sleeping now.”

Hearing those last words, Wu Cisheng lightened his movements entering the door, and Lucas, following behind him, also tiptoed cautiously inside.

During his last visit, Lucas had only glimpsed a corner of the interior through a window. This was his first time truly stepping inside the home.

The overall layout was a simple two-bedroom, one-living-room setup. The few pieces of solid wood furniture felt very dated, but the apartment was cleaned quite tidily. Thinking specifically about how Cisheng had grown up here, Lucas couldn’t help but gaze at the dining table and imagine a miniature version of Wu Cisheng sitting at it long ago.

Unaware of Lucas’s thoughts, Wu Cisheng simply looked at the room, identical to his memories. Time seemed to rewind back to the past.

“Here, have some water?”

Aunt Yang brought hot water to the two on the sofa. Just as she was about to ask if she should wake Yang Jiao, footsteps came from the bedroom.

When Yang Jiao emerged from the bedroom, she immediately noticed Wu Cisheng sitting on the living room sofa. She stared for a long time, her expression seeming either lost in thought or deep in recollection.

The woman was no longer young, fine lines gathering at the corners of her eyes, but her features still held the beauty of her youth. The plain-colored qipao she wore wasn’t the least bit incongruous.

Anyone with eyes could see the resemblance between the woman’s brows and Wu Cisheng’s own.

Neither person on the sofa made a sound. A profound stillness diffused throughout the room.

Finally, Aunt Yang broke the silence, speaking to Yang Jiao: “Jiao, are you fully awake now? This is your son, Cisheng. It’s Xiao Ci.”

A Guide’s mental strength is profound; with intense effort, they can even modify another person’s memories.

When Wu Cisheng first heard that Guides possessed this ability, he had fervently hoped he would Awaken as one too, so he could recall his mother’s memories.

But when he truly Awakened and entered the capital to begin his studies, he learned that while he could help memory-disordered Sentinels recover clear, complete memories, it didn’t work on ordinary people.

After earning money for the first time inside The Tower using his abilities, Wu Cisheng took Yang Jiao for a comprehensive check-up. The doctor said the disease was very rare; his mother’s case was likely a skipped-generation inheritance, carrying a certain probability of onset from the start. The accident had merely accelerated its emergence.

When he was very young, seeing classmates who fell and were gently picked up and patiently comforted by their mothers, while his own mother often didn’t recognize him… When other students brought elaborate packed lunches on outings, he attended class while worrying whether his sick mother at home might run off again…

In those moments, occasionally, very rarely, he felt a tiny sliver of resentment.

Wu Cisheng looked at the woman hopefully, softly calling her “Mom”. He wished to see his own reflection in Yang Jiao’s eyes.

But the woman’s expression toward him remained one of utter confusion. A faint sliver of clarity appeared, and when she spoke, it was to ask: “Who are you people? Why are you in my house?”

Aunt Yang sighed. “Why is she confused again? She was fine just a few days ago. Come now, take another look. This is Xiao Ci.”

Seeing her about to anxiously pull on the woman, Wu Cisheng once more proactively changed the subject: “By the way, Aunt Yang, how has everything been at home these past few years?”

“Everything’s fine. You send money every month; I keep telling you, we can’t spend that much. All that money, I’ve been saving it for you.”

Aunt Yang and Yang Jiao were actually somewhat distantly related, though Wu Cisheng hadn’t known this when he first hired her.

At the time, she had just resigned from a previous household where the employer constantly treated her like a thief, even keeping a special notebook to record the water and electric meter usage, demanding she pay for any excess. So when Wu Cisheng spoke a few words, she came. Later, upon meeting Yang Jiao and Wu Cisheng’s uncle, chatting a bit revealed they were distant relatives.

“Oh, right. Last month, your uncle visited once and brought some cured meats and sausages. The month before last, I even ran into your aunt while grocery shopping.”

Aunt…

In Wu Cisheng’s memory, the image of his aunt remained frozen: loud-voiced, not particularly fond of him or his mother, often making veiled, nasty remarks.

So he asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No, no argument. Just exchanged a few casual words.” When Aunt Yang mentioned this, she added deliberately, “About your uncle’s situation… I didn’t breathe a single word.”

Wu Cisheng gave a noncommittal “Mm”.

Aunt Yang said a few more things, all taking Wu Cisheng’s side, remarking how unkind her past actions had been, how Wu Cisheng was just a child back then…

When Wu Cisheng was very young, he had thought the same way.

However, during the time he lost his sight, in moments of utter boredom, he had meticulously replayed every frame of his past, arriving at a speculation he’d never considered before: perhaps his seemingly submissive uncle wasn’t as timid as he appeared?

On the surface, it seemed the uncle was only responsible for earning money, while major and minor household matters were all managed by the aunt. But had the decision to drive them out back then truly been solely the aunt’s? And did she really not know about the uncle occasionally slipping him a few hundred yuan in support before he came of age?

Aunt Yang had already sorted and put away the many gifts Wu Cisheng and Lucas brought, repeatedly saying it was too much and that they should save their money.

Yang Jiao sat opposite Wu Cisheng, looking at her own son like he was some exotic animal, occasionally reaching out to poke his cheek.

Wu Cisheng was long accustomed to the woman’s such behavior. He could even hold a conversation with her without batting an eye.

“Drink water?” He pointed to the cup, then to his lips, emphasizing, “Water.”

Alzheimer’s manifests diversely. The first primary symptom is cognitive decline, with difficulty expressing oneself or understanding others’ words.

The second manifestation is behavioral abnormalities; some patients also see things that aren’t there or hear nonexistent sounds. Simultaneously, daily living abilities decline, sometimes reaching the point where they cannot maintain personal hygiene independently.

But looking at Yang Jiao’s clean, tidy appearance and neatly combed hair, Wu Cisheng knew Aunt Yang had truly put her heart into caring for her.

After he repeated himself a few times, the woman finally understood Wu Cisheng’s meaning and nodded vigorously.

Lucas, sitting nearby, suddenly interjected: “Were you like this as a child?” A child yourself, yet already caring for another adult like this?

He didn’t finish the sentence, but his meaning was clear.

Wu Cisheng picked up a tissue and, with practiced movements, wiped the water stains from the woman’s lips, giving a very soft “Mm”.

“Actually, for this kind of illness, back where I come from…”

Just then, Aunt Yang, wearing an apron, emerged from the kitchen, the aroma of the food wafting out with her.

“That one called… Luska or Lucas? You don’t have any dietary restrictions, do you?”

Lucas shook his head. “No.”

Truthfully, the taste of ordinary food for a Sentinel was no different from eating heavy seasoning straight. Not to mention he was already wearing a Five Senses Regulator, and right beside him sat a Guide whose mental control evaluation was graded as excellent.

Though Wu Cisheng didn’t speak, the look he gave clearly conveyed affirmation. The Little White Weasel, visible only to the two Heterogeneous Humans present, also emerged, truly resembling a fluffy white ball.

Lucas’s fingers twitched.

He wanted to pet it.