novelraw Chapter 131: Xiao Gui’an’s Deduction
Chapter 131: Xiao Gui’an’s Deduction
[Just now Xu Zisheng said he smelled disinfectant outside that building on the lawn—how did I miss that?]
Proxy System: […Host…during that period…the brainwaves…gradually stabilized…slow waves appeared…]
In short, Xiao Gui’an had slept for that brief stretch of time, so he missed that detail.
[Okay, I know, stop—]
Xiao Gui’an didn’t think anything was wrong. His mind was constantly occupied—endlessly thinking, pouring himself into an immersive performance—so dozing off for a moment was only natural.
The smell of disinfectant mixed with medicinal odor…
Sometimes excessively low temperature can dull a person’s senses and distort their judgment of smells.
Whatever Xu Zisheng actually smelled back then, at least several definite characteristics could be identified: it was acrid and foul, with both a fishy stench and a bitter tang.
This kind of scent didn’t commonly appear inside the Orphanage.
If he had to compare it to other mixed, similar smells, then the odor behind the curtain in the Director’s office fitted almost perfectly.Could the presence they passed outside the Information Records Room last night have been the Director?
Or perhaps both the Acting Director and the Director were there.
Under what circumstances would wild grass lose all vitality?
Was it because the soil itself was poor and needed nutrients?
Or did something possess corrosive, devouring properties—like a poison—so that passing through that patch of grass left those weird, sunken marks?
Ailing in health and needing medicinal care—the orphanage Director.
The Acting Director who openly handled communications—always put on display.
How could there be no foul play between them?
Acting Director…
When Teacher Xu mentioned the Acting Director, her eyes shone with naked disgust and contempt.
As for the other Teacher Tang, when he brought the other up last night, he didn’t express familiarity or warmth toward the Acting Director.
He treated the person more as a tool that could be used against the Writer, a means to protect his own interests and the rules.
Whether he felt any respect or reverence was something Xiao Gui’an couldn’t immediately tell.
He’d already decided to visit the Director’s office during lunch and have an exchange with the so-called Acting Director.
Xu Zisheng said he still hadn’t met the Acting Director.
The person did appear during the first day’s noon cleanup.
But at that time Xu Zisheng had fought an unknown ghost and was injured, so he missed the chance to meet the Acting Director.
Afterwards he still hadn’t seen the person.
Xu Zisheng guessed that the Acting Director might reappear for the second noon cleanup today.
Xiao Gui’an had some ideas in mind, but needed more observation of the Acting Director’s interactions with others to make a more accurate judgment.
If his attempt to go to the office failed and he couldn’t meet the Acting Director, he would time it so he could rush back to the student cafeteria.
After the orphans finished lunch and began the cleanup, he’d look for the Acting Director then.
If the person showed up, he’d still have a chance to observe how others reacted to them.
From the information Xu Zisheng passed on, Xiao Gui’an already had a rough understanding of how the Orphanage operated.
Xu Zisheng had arrived two days earlier than him and had long noticed how the rule about ‘under the watch of time, players must follow the Orphanage’s regulations’ functioned.
Every time slot in the Orphanage specified what to do, divided strictly; players had to follow the requirements to the letter.
‘Time’ actually referred to the clocks that were everywhere in this Orphanage—whether an ordinary decorative clock hanging on the wall or a handcrafted paper-cut clock placed on a table, they all counted.
Xiao Gui’an had noticed this as well.
Last night when Teacher Xu led the Writer to the student cafeteria, she had picked a completely dim corridor to warn him.
That place had no clocks and blocked other lines of sight.
After that, whether in the student cafeteria or the reading room, the large clocks hanging high above supervised everyone’s every move with a domineering, watchful presence.
Not a moment early, not a moment late.
When the clock in Xu Zisheng’s room lost that icy, scrutinizing feeling, Xiao Gui’an knew someone had tampered with the clock.
That was how he could leave his room to go on nighttime wandering without being discovered so quickly.
As for Rule Two’s ‘eyes,’ Xu Zisheng had a few guesses in mind but nothing fully confirmed.
Rules sometimes hint through metaphor; other times they refer to actual, tangible things.
Players have to explore them for themselves.
There was a small doubt here—if ‘time’ and ‘eyes’ were the same kind of thing, why was Rule Two listed separately instead of being included under Rule One?
When the forces behind ‘time’ and ‘eyes’ are different, the rules might split them up.
So could that mean there are two opposing forces hidden inside the Orphanage?
Of course, it might also be that these inconsistent rules were just glitching—smoke screens, illusions, who knew.
Xiao Gui’an already had a suspect in mind about what the ‘eyes’ might be, but he needed to confirm it.
Everything depended on whether he could get something useful from this noon visit.
He really didn’t want to go alone.
But Xu Zisheng had entered this instance because of him; he had to step up and help the other clear the scenario and get out quickly.
Zero didn’t know when it could finish handling business.
Although the Proxy System existed, Xiao Gui’an still preferred the livelier Little Light Sphere that could play the straight man to his jokes.
They walked at a steady pace and soon reached the student cafeteria.
The Writer gently released his hold on the thin boy, then crouched down and put Xiao Yong down so the boy could be more comfortable.
The orphans followed Teacher Xu in, one after another, forming a line.
The easygoing, black-haired youth straightened but stayed where he was, as if he had no intention of going in with them.
Xiao Yong limped and stopped. He looked up at the Writer; the birthmark on the side of his face spread like ink dropped into clear water—sometimes faint, sometimes dark.
For a moment, all the orphans froze and looked at the Writer.
“What’s wrong, Xiao Yong? Do you have something to tell me?”
The Writer crouched and asked softly.
He met the boy’s gaze. This seemingly ordinary boy actually had unusual amber eyes that only showed their pretty color under strong light.
“Teacher Yan, won’t you come in with us?”
“I have other things to attend to later, so I’m afraid I can’t go in with you. Sorry.”
Xiao Yong stared at the Writer; the light in his eyes seemed to dim.
When he saw the Writer truly wouldn’t change his mind, Xiao Le stepped forward. The girl already clearly relied on the Writer.
She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her small arms tightly around his neck, trembling slightly—though the Writer couldn’t see the expression on her face, he could hear her whisper in a tiny voice, “Teacher Yan, if only you could—”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
That barely audible voice dissolved into the wind and ultimately said nothing.
In the end, Xiao Le let go and obediently waved to the Writer, then trotted back to her companions and disappeared from sight.