A cold, twisted, inhuman intent flowed along the point of contact into the boy’s dreams.
It did not change his personality or erase his memories. It simply planted a “seed” in the deepest part of his subconscious — a psychological barrier constructed of Hypotheticals, targeting specific behaviors.
She had no intention of modifying his essential personality, memories, or thoughts. She only infinitely magnified the feedback mechanism of his own conscience, transforming it into a perceptible physical and psychological sensation.
**[USE THE HEART AS A MIRROR TO REFLECT EVERY WORD AND DEED]**
**[DEVOTE YOURSELF TO VIRTUE; ASSIST OTHERS DAILY AND MAINTAIN A SINCERE HEART]**
The Hypothetical took effect silently, like the most precise psychological surgery.
He Jiulu wanted to impose psychological barriers so that when they wanted to do something bad, they would feel a bone-chilling cold and suffer the deep condemnation of their conscience.
She wanted to make them feel extraordinarily uncomfortable if they did not perform good deeds every day. If they did not study hard, help others, and respect their teachers, they would feel that death was better than life. She was forcing them to become “good children.”
Upon completion, He Jiulu did not linger. She immediately headed to her next targets: Li Ming, Zhang Wei, Zhao Xing…
She was like a cold nocturnal visitor, delivering this “gift” one by one.
The entire process was fast, precise, and devoid of any ripples.
On her way, she visited an energy fluctuation point in the western part of the city. She casually crushed a weak anomaly that looked like a cluster of running brambles that had just seeped through, absorbing its remains and weak soul into the “Dictator” cane.
By the time she finished, dawn was approaching.
He Jiulu stood on the roof of the final building, looking down at the slowly waking city. The hem of her military skirt fluttered slightly in the breeze.
She felt no pleasure, only the exhaustion of completing a necessary but filthy job.
—
The next day, Grade 5, Class 2.
Lin Qingxia arrived early as usual, sitting in her seat and taking out her textbook to preview the lesson. She tried to ignore the gazes that might come her way, shrinking into her safe shell.
However, she soon noticed something was wrong.
Wang Hao, Li Ming, and those other students who were usually the most active and enjoyed making fun of her were exceptionally quiet today. They sat in their seats, their eyes darting around, and their faces looked somewhat pale.
The bell rang, and the teacher entered the classroom.
When the teacher asked a difficult question, no one in the class raised their hand.
Normally, even if Wang Hao didn’t know the answer, he would have made a few heckling remarks. But today, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something sarcastic, only to suddenly shudder violently. His face turned even paler as he forced himself to swallow the words, instead subconsciously sitting up straight.
During the break, Zhang Wei’s pen accidentally rolled to Lin Qingxia’s feet.
Usually, Zhang Wei would have shouted for the “mute” or the “trash” to pick up the pen for her, or perhaps she would have even kicked Lin Qingxia.
But today, Zhang Wei looked at the pen on the floor with an expression of extreme struggle and disgust, as if she were about to touch something filthy. She hesitated for a long time before finally, driven by a mysterious and powerful psychological urge, she bent over and picked up the pen herself.
On the other side of the room, several girls were habitually gathered together, their eyes glancing toward the solitary Lin Qingxia as their lips moved, preparing to whisper gossip.
However, the moment those biting words reached their lips, they transformed into an indescribable fear and sense of guilt originating from the depths of their souls. It weighed on them until they could barely breathe, their hearts pounding as if they were about to explode.
Instead, a strong, almost self-torturing impulse drove them.
Li Ming walked to Lin Qingxia’s desk as if possessed. With stiff movements, he placed his newly bought, unopened, and exquisite stationery bag on her desk and stammered, “For… for you to use!”
As soon as he finished, an expression of extreme resistance and confusion appeared on his face. It was as if he had just eaten a fly. He lunged back and leaned over his desk, dry heaving, though nothing came out.
Zhao Xing was even more absurd. He actually picked up a broom and began cleaning the classroom, including the area around Lin Qingxia’s seat.
As he swept, his face turned ash-gray and the veins on his forehead bulged as if he were enduring great agony, yet he could not stop his hands.
Lin Qingxia watched as Zhang Wei, her eyes darting away, struggled to hand over a piece of chocolate. Her fingers trembled before she pulled them back as if she had touched a hot iron, clenching her hand into a tight fist.
She saw those who used to mock her the most now forced to perform the most “kind” actions, while their faces were filled with pain, nausea, and deep confusion.
They felt a genuine, physiological disgust for every bit of “good” they were forced to do for Lin Qingxia.
The malicious intent to vomit directly onto her desk was so strong, yet their bodies betrayed their wills. They jerked their heads away with a retching sound and vomited into the aisle instead.
Lin Qingxia watched all of this in surprise, her heart filled with confusion.
In the afternoon, there was a pop quiz.
Zhao Xing usually had average grades and always thought about peeking at others’ answers. He habitually glanced toward a classmate’s test paper, however, the instant his gaze was about to land on an answer —
A sharp sense of guilt and sin, like being pricked by a needle, stabbed into his brain.
He let out a miserable cry and clutched his eyes. His body shook violently, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
The proctoring teacher was startled and hurried over to ask what was wrong.
Zhao Xing’s face was deathly pale as he stammered that his eyes were uncomfortable. He didn’t dare look elsewhere again and could only stare fixedly at his own paper, even though large sections were blank.
The pain brought by that “dishonesty” was 100 times stronger than the pain of being scolded for failing an exam.
Similar scenes began to play out constantly in the following days. The students who had been implanted with the psychological barriers found themselves wearing invisible shackles.
Any thought of mocking or bullying Lin Qingxia or other weak classmates would trigger a bone-chilling cold and heart palpitations, forcing them to back down.
If they actually did something bad, even something minor like intentionally pushing someone, lying, or daydreaming in class, they would feel a mysterious anxiety and heart palpitations for a period afterward…
They might even suffer a slight headache, as if countless eyes were condemning them.
Conversely, if they forced themselves to do “good” things — like helping a classmate pick something up, answering a teacher’s question, or even just listening attentively and finishing homework on time —
The lingering discomfort would temporarily ease, and they would even feel a faint but very real sense of peace.
This forced kindness made them feel incredibly disgusted and miserable. They felt nauseated by their own involuntary goodwill.
Wang Hao tried several times to spit on Lin Qingxia’s desk, but that intense cold and the following feeling of condemnation, as if his heart were being torn apart, forced him to close his eyes in disgrace.
Their spirits began to endure immense pressure. Their hearts were filled with malice and anger, yet their bodies could not execute those feelings. Instead, they were forced to behave like the “good children” they most despised and hated.
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