Chapter 25: Guilt

The next day, Lin Jianqing’s life finally returned to a semblance of normalcy.

Morning classes, then an internship at Lingqi Network in the afternoon.

No sudden phone calls, no urgent messages from the hospital, and no strange demands from Shen Huaixue early in the morning.

For Lin Jianqing, this was actually a good thing.

‘Maybe that weird woman has things to keep her busy too.’

Of course, he only dared to think that in his head.

After the morning classes ended, Lin Jianqing ate a simple meal and then headed to Qingtian Building as usual.

Everything at the company was routine. The time clock lit up, and the screen displayed the words “Clock-in successful.”

Lin Jianqing glanced at the time, then walked to his workstation, sat down, turned on his computer, and began processing the material collation work sent by Zhang Jie.

The tasks weren’t complicated—image archiving, spreadsheet categorization, and some annotations on design reference materials.

These tasks were trivial, but at least they were normal. So normal that Lin Jianqing even felt a sense of relief.

At least while sitting here, he didn’t need to wear those strange clothes or study foundations, lip glosses, and oil blotting papers in front of the mirror. He only needed to do what a regular intern should do. That was enough.

As Zhang Jie passed by, she casually placed a cup of hot coffee on his desk.

“Jianqing, these materials aren’t urgent today. Take your time.”

“Thank you, Sister Zhang.”

Lin Jianqing looked up and thanked her.

Zhang Jie smiled, didn’t say much else, and quickly went back to her other tasks.

The sound of keyboards clicking softly filled the office, and the coffee machine occasionally emitted a low hum. Outside the window, sunlight fell on the glass curtain wall, breaking into patches of bright, fragmented light.

Everything was just like a normal workday should be.

But at this moment, in the president’s office on the other side, it wasn’t as calm as the rest of the floor. Shen Huaixue sat behind her desk, several printed documents placed before her.

She had been reading for a long time, so long that the coffee beside her had gone cold, a thin layer of light floating on the black surface.

Yet Shen Huaixue hadn’t touched it.

Her gaze stopped at the two names at the top of the documents.

Lin Yuanzhou, Lin Anping.

One was Lin Jianqing’s father, the other his mother.

These two names were no longer unfamiliar to Shen Huaixue now.

But if you went back a few years, she wouldn’t have given them a second thought.

Back then, she only cared about one result.

Who the researchers involved in the experiment were, which institute they came from, whether they had children at home, or if they would eventually get caught up in trouble—she simply didn’t care.

Shen Huaixue had been accustomed to this way of thinking since childhood: she wanted something, and her family would do their best to get it for her.

If they couldn’t fulfill it, they would find an alternative.

Until the later incident—though that also helped her grow a lot.

At the time, Shen Huaixue felt that as long as there were enough resources, enough data, and researchers willing to cooperate, there was nothing in the world that was truly unreachable.

Now, the cold black-and-white text was gradually pushing back in front of her eyes all the things she had once ignored.

Lin Yuanzhou, core researcher at the First Human Ability Research Institute of Linzhou.

Research direction: special individual gene sequence comparison, psychic expression stability, artificially induced awakening model.

Lin Anping, senior researcher at the First Human Ability Research Institute of Linzhou.

Research direction: rift factor compatibility rate, human mental threshold, ability contamination reaction control.

Shen Huaixue’s fingers tapped lightly on the desk. The sound was very soft, but it stood out in the quiet office.

She continued reading.

So-called special abilities were not talents that appeared out of nowhere.

Hundreds of years ago, when spatial rifts first appeared all over the world, they not only spewed out a large number of aberrant monsters but also leaked a special energy that still couldn’t be fully analyzed.

Initially, humans called it “rift radiation.”

Later, after extensive research, the academic community officially named it—rift factor.

Rift factors affect the physical structure, nervous system, and deeper mental domains of living organisms.

The vast majority of aberrant monsters are life forms that undergo mutation in high-concentration rift factor environments.

The reason human women can awaken abilities is because the female population generally has a higher compatibility rate with rift factors.

The higher the compatibility rate, the higher the chance of awakening.

The more stable the mental threshold, the lower the probability of ability loss of control.

Psychic expression stability determines whether an awakened person can use their abilities long-term without being corroded by rift factors in reverse.

This theory has been written into basic textbooks on modern ability studies. Ordinary people only know that women are more likely to awaken.

But Shen Huaixue knew very well that the real research was far from as clean as the textbooks suggested.

Because for a long time, people had been trying to break the limits of natural awakening. As human society has stabilized, humans are now leaning towards exploring the interior of the rifts.

This requires more suitable combat-type supernatural beings, because most machines malfunction when entering rift space. So compared to the past, humanity now has a greater demand for supernatural beings.

This led to the emergence of experiments in human laboratories: artificially induced awakening, ability transplantation, rift factor injection, mental threshold rewriting—experiments that sound very dangerous.

Although these were explicitly banned in the past due to human rights issues, such experiments never stopped.

The Shen family was one of the participants. To be more precise, the younger Shen Huaixue personally promoted one of them.

Although the final result ended in a mess, even a scandal too shameful to speak of, to the point where the usual personnel elimination plan (in the physical sense) had to be used to cover it up.

But things had come to this. Looking at the two names before her, Shen Huaixue’s expression grew cold.

Too coincidental.

At the time, she indeed hadn’t personally inquired about the list of researchers.

The experimental project was arranged internally by the Shen family. She was only responsible for providing the initial requirements and part of the sample data left by that person.

Who took over later, who participated, who handled things—she had no interest.

But now it seemed that Lin Jianqing’s parents were likely more than just ordinary participants.

They might have been key personnel for that experiment.

Shen Huaixue turned to the next page.

The documents contained a record about an accident in Border City.

Not long after the experiment was halted, Lin Yuanzhou and Lin Anping were transferred to the Border City Joint Research Project.

Three months later, abnormal rift fluctuations appeared in Border City.

Aberrant uprising.

The research team was attacked.

Lin Yuanzhou died on the spot.

Lin Anping was severely injured, her mental threshold completely collapsed, and she was later diagnosed with long-term mental disorder.

The official record was written very completely, so complete that it seemed like a pre-prepared answer.

Shen Huaixue stared at the four words “aberrant uprising,” her eyes devoid of any ripple.

There really were many accidents in this world, and Border City was indeed dangerous.

But she knew better than anyone that if the Shen family wanted something to look like an accident, they had countless ways.

An aberrant attack was the cleanest method. No one would ask why the monsters appeared. The border world was like that—no one knew what would happen in the next second.

Shen Huaixue closed the documents and leaned back in her chair.

She didn’t speak immediately. The office was very quiet.

So quiet that she could hear the sound of her own breathing.

How should she describe her current feelings?

Guilt?

No.

Shen Huaixue didn’t like that word.