novelraw Chapter 30
Chapter 30
Chapter 30
"Oh, please, you have to help me! You have to find her—she still has an event this Sunday!" The moment she stepped out of the police car, Zuo Jiangqin trailed after the officers, stressing in a frantic voice how crucial it was to bring Bai Yi back.
The officer in front adjusted his cap—its badge bore a qilin and the words Jinghe Precinct—then glanced back at Mrs. Zuo and said evenly,
"Mrs. Zuo, the event isn't what you should be worrying about right now. If we can't locate your daughter, nothing else matters. And according to your own statement, she left home voluntarily—didn't she?"
"I—"
The single sentence left Zuo Jiangqin gaping; she had nothing to add.
"All right, Mrs. Zuo. We'll do everything we can to find her, I promise. Try to stay calm—okay?"
That was all it took. The officer's expression never changed. He knew exactly whose donations kept the precinct lights on; they were hired to serve people like her.
He looked away and strode toward the campus. The other officers scattered—one group heading for security, another for teachers.
Pressing the Bluetooth earpiece, he spoke to someone on the other end.
"Xiao Wright, any luck with the compound's surveillance?"
"Got it, Captain Edo. They checked every camera near the villa. From five to seven yesterday afternoon, no one left."
Captain Edo's brows knitted. After a moment he murmured,
"Extend the timeline a few more hours. And send someone to look for blind spots."
"Roger. But Captain, I still think the odds of her coming to school are slim. From what Mrs. Zuo told us, she hardly ever attends."
"Yeah. We've been at this all night; we're just here on the off-chance. Mrs. Zuo is wound tight—getting information out of her is like squeezing toothpaste. One squeeze, one drop. I can't do much with that."
"Mm. I know. After all that work last night, only this morning did she mention she keeps talking to her daughter about a classmate named Yan Huan. Apparently that's why the girl ran away."
Edo let out a silent sigh. Mrs. Zuo was still within earshot, so he lowered his voice.
"All she can think about is the big event this weekend if her daughter's gone. If Bai Yi doesn't show, they'll have to pay a huge penalty fee, right?"
"Ha, of course."
Edo had planned to have Xiao Wright continue while he hunted down the boy called "Yan Huan." But a new message crackled through the earpiece.
"Captain, IT just sent word. Bai Yi's ID wasn't used to register at any hotel last night. Unless our little star stooped to sleeping under a Jinghe overpass, then..."
Edo stopped in his tracks.
"She has a place to stay?"
He turned to Mrs. Zuo, who was shading herself with a designer parasol.
"Mrs. Zuo, does your daughter have anywhere to stay outside your home? Or does she know anyone in Linmen who might take her in?"
Zuo Jiangqin blinked, then slapped her forehead as if struck by lightning.
"She has a best friend! Much older, owns a place in Jinghe District—maybe—"
"Why didn't you mention this earlier?"
"Well, that woman looks like bad news—tattoos all over. I cut contact ages ago, told them to break it off. Who knows if they kept in touch? I forgot."
Edo was speechless. Even his seasoned composure felt blood pressure spike; he could almost taste the little white heart-rescue pills dissolving on his tongue.
Damn it.
He rubbed his temples, cursing his career choice.
Whatever. Money's hard to earn, shit's hard to swallow. The rich of Jinghe District are untouchable.
Seeing Edo at a loss, Mrs. Zuo pulled out her phone from her designer bag.
"Should I try calling her?"
With a forced smile, Edo nodded.
"Please do. Let's pay this friend a visit, shall we?"
"Okay, I—oh, I don't have the number. Let me find Yiyi's agent first; wait a moment."
"Mm-hmm."
Sweetheart, watch Daddy work this hard every day!
Study hard when you grow up—Daddy will save up to send you to this fancy high school!
Edo screamed silently, bleeding inside.
He ushered Mrs. Zuo back into the squad car and radioed the scattered officers to regroup.
Wee-oo, wee-oo!
The siren wailed again as the car drove off campus, leaving students bewildered by the sudden arrival and departure.
Among them was Yan Huan, who'd arrived a moment too late. He'd wanted to ask a few questions, but the police were gone.
Secretly, Yan Huan hoped they wouldn't dig up anything. If the anomalies caused by the Modifier were exposed and people started asking uncomfortable questions, he'd be walking a tightrope over a volcano. If Bai Yi's insecurity made the Modifier overload, there'd be no way to fix it.
Come to think of it, among the known Modifier users, Bai Yi's was the easiest to expose. Other users had memory-editing and other cover-ups; only Bai Yi's seemed to leave direct traces—like the marks on Zhou Bin's face or the paint on his own desk. Once or twice might pass unnoticed, but repeated incidents would inevitably draw attention.
Yan Huan drew a slow breath, his face perfectly calm.
Just then, the security guard from the gatehouse wandered over, puzzled, looking toward the entrance.
Yan Huan raised an eyebrow and greeted him first.
"Uncle He!"
"Ah, Yan Huan, perfect timing. They said a student named Bai Yi ran away from home and went missing. They came to the school looking for her and even asked for you by name. Did they talk to you?"
Looking for me?
So Bai Yi's disappearance is probably connected to me.
And she did seem to resent me.
Yan Huan thought as much, but outwardly he smiled and shook his head.
"No, I just came out of curiosity. I didn't get to speak to anyone—they'd already left."
"Strange. Well, let's hope nothing bad happens. She's just a kid."
The guard shook his head and ambled back to the gatehouse.
Yet Yan Huan felt an itch between his shoulder blades, as if someone were watching him. He turned sharply, but behind him only the curious eyes of students moved across the campus.
He turned away without a word.
He didn't see, tucked in a shadowy corner of the teaching building, a strand of black hair lifted by the breeze then falling back into place. Hidden there, in full fisherman's hat, sunglasses, and mask, stood Bai Yi herself—solid, not translucent.
Thump-thump-thump.
Her heart pounded; her mouth felt like sandpaper. It was the first time police had hunted her like this, and with her inexplicable superpower—if the Indifference effect wore off while she was on camera, she'd look like a ghost. If anyone noticed—
Drip. Tick-tock.
Just as she worried she'd have no way to explain and would be dragged away for experiments, a clock-like sound chimed, and text appeared before her eyes.
[Accumulated usage time: 3 minutes]
Since last night, she'd been running it nonstop. Ten minutes a day—that's all she got. Couldn't it last longer? Even if she could bank minutes, the limit was too stingy.
Clutching the pocket watch, Bai Yi turned her anxiety into a simple, silent complaint.
And the moment the thought formed, the air around her seemed to grow colder, as though freezing solid.
Crack-crack-crack.
[Congratulations! Continuous use has raised the pocket watch to the next level!]
[Level 1 → 2]
[Daily Indifference duration increased to 20 minutes!]
[New trait acquired: Transparency Corrector]
[All implausible phenomena that might expose you before or after using Indifference will be automatically corrected by the watch.]
[Corrections cover—but are not limited to—security cameras, phones, cameras, and other recording devices. Human and animal eyesight, however, will still notice anomalies; please remain cautious to avoid revealing the watch's existence.]
Behind her sunglasses, Bai Yi's eyes widened a fraction. The timer had just jumped by twenty minutes.
She said nothing; the mask hid every flicker of expression.
Only the hand holding the pocket watch clenched tighter.
The sun was sliding west when Yan Huan stepped out of the locker room, gym kit swapped for his regular uniform. Sakuramiya Hitomi had skipped her elective; her kitten Mitsuki needed her, so she'd gone home early.
He bought a sports drink from the vending machine and strolled toward Class A, sipping as he walked.
The building was quiet—same as Monday—bathed in golden peace.
Nothing moved except the shadows cast by the pillars and... a half-transparent girl in a mask, arms folded in the corridor.
Wait. Something's off.
The moment the thought registered, Yan Huan nearly sprayed melon-flavored electrolytes across the floor.
Perfect Expression Management kicked in just in time. He walked past her as naturally as breathing, while the masked girl's gaze tracked him like a laser.
Her Modifier timer should've run out ages ago. I counted fifteen minutes last Friday in the exam room. It's been way past fifteen since noon—how is she still invisible?
Hello, customer service? I'm a parent, and I'd like to file a complaint!
Please add an anti-addiction system to Modifiers—your product is corrupting my child Zihan!!
Whatever Bai Yi was planning, Yan Huan knew it was time to make a move.
Still sipping, he kept his face relaxed and drifted toward Class A.
Before he even reached the doorway, the 500 ml bottle was empty. Bai Yi, trailing behind, stared at the speed-guzzling display.
That thirsty?
He tossed the bottle into the recycling bin; the clink echoed down the hall. Bai Yi followed, the same dark impulse from noon resurfacing.
Twilight bled across the corridor—one shadow stretched long, the other bathed in crimson, half-girl, half-void.
Yan Huan pushed open the classroom door. His vandalized desk had already been replaced; the school had acted fast.
Was he here to pack up? But his backpack was already on his shoulders.
He slid the new desk aside, revealing the wall behind it—still streaked with multicolored paint.
For a moment he simply stared. Then he set his bag down, shrugged off his jacket, and rolled up the sleeves of his black T-shirt.
Moments later he returned with a damp rag and a spray bottle of disinfectant from the restroom.
Bai Yi watched, puzzled, as Yan Huan misted the paint with alcohol and began to scrub in small, patient circles.
He's... cleaning the wall?
The paint had dried; even with solvent it fought back, but Yan Huan worked without complaint, rubbing the same spot over and over.
Those stains were her doing—born of spite she could barely name.
To him, it must look like some random poltergeist, the same way the girl from Class A must have felt when her window was peppered with pebbles.
While he scrubbed, Yan Huan suddenly pulled out his phone—an older, well-worn model.
Bai Yi recognized the brand; she'd handled plenty of tech.
He dialed, wedged the phone between ear and shoulder, and answered the ringback with a smile.
"Hi, Tong Sis. It's me. I'll be a little late tonight."
"Mmm... something came up at school. I'll miss the campus shuttle, so I'll catch another bus back."
"Sorry—really sorry."
All the while, he kept wiping the wall, polite apologies interlaced with the squeak of cloth on tile.
Upstairs in the tavern, Tong Yingying lay starfished on her bed, half-asleep, phone pressed to her ear.
Huh? What's gotten into him?
Since when is he this polite?
Am I dreaming?
Must've dozed off.
"Mmm... okay." She mumbled, hung up, scratched her exposed belly above pajama pants, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
Back in Class A, Bai Yi listened.
So the rumors were true—Yuanyue's popular student-council president actually worked part-time to stay afloat.
And he apologized for being five minutes late like it was a mortal sin.
A nasty little bloom of superiority unfurled in her chest.
She'd been on variety shows, starred in indie films, earned good money. Her clothes, her gear, her apartment—everything was comfortable.
So what if the TV execs praised his brains, his work ethic? So what if the station director had spotted him in a single glance?
So what if he was... maybe... kind of good-looking?
He still had to struggle like this.
The feeling flared, then fizzled.
Under Indifference, no one could see her; this was her truest self.
The superiority was nothing but a spring uncoiling after being compressed too long—the same impulse that had driven her reckless anger.
Rational thought said they barely intersected. In his eyes, he'd done nothing and still got targeted.
Study, student-council chores, part-time shifts—on top of all that, random "supernatural incidents" dumped extra chores in his lap.
It was her fault.
Economics 101 assumes every agent is rational, always choosing the optimal path.
Reality says otherwise.
When you're measured against someone day and night—told he's smarter, harder, more valuable—you end up hating the comparison itself.
And deeper down, you hate him.
Especially when a pocket watch lets you vanish, magnifying every dirty thought in silence.
But reality also says no one can stay irrational forever.
Take this moment, for example.
Bai Yi, still locked in the blankness of Indifference, parted her lips. The sordid little plan she'd meant to carry out refused to come to life.
—Right.
I'm the one who always hated the road Mother and the agent mapped out for me.
"With looks like yours, of course you should cash in—corner the pretty-face market."
That's why I kept writing songs, why I wanted to create something real.
Yet here I am, watching someone even better-looking than me refuse that same path, and feeling smug because my face buys me status?
Shame, jealousy, and bafflement hit her all at once.
She was ashamed that she had used the Modifier on an innocent boy, ashamed of the haughty way she'd mocked his situation.
She was jealous—because for the first time she understood what her mother had meant, how hard he worked, how good he really was.
People can lecture you forever and nothing sticks; let life hit you once and the lesson sticks forever.
But why did someone like him have to cross her path?
If I'm Yi, why does Huan have to exist?
Bai Yi clenched her teeth, fists bunching.
And the question that truly puzzled her:
Back then the station chiefs had already spotted him—so why had he chosen this grinding life instead?
Whatever the reason, it had to be easier than what he was doing now.
Curious.
Are you honestly this gifted and hardworking, or...?
Fine. Let me take another look at the boy my mother won't stop talking about.
"Whew—finally done."
A while later Yan Huan straightened up, having scrubbed the last streak of paint from the tiles.
He exhaled, slapped the alcohol smell off his hands, and pretended to gather his things to leave—
all so he could check on Bai Yi without being obvious.
But when he looked back, the classroom was empty.
The girl had vanished.
Well... looks like I've bought myself a little breathing room.
Yan Huan rolled his wrist, glanced at the time on his phone, and slung his bag over his shoulder.
He was due at his part-time job, yet every instinct told him the day wasn't over.
Bai Yi and I are far from finished.
(end of chapter)