Far across the city, a girl stood on the highest floor of the library. Eyes closed, she faced the direction where Ye Jinyi was—some filthy, deserted corner.
“I once heard that there are three saviors in this world. One is God. One is Judas. One is Longinus.”
“God brought justice and morality to the world, gave people something to yearn for, to chase after with all their hearts.”
“But Judas and Longinus, who killed God, represented the evil in people’s hearts. They helped others understand what evil was, helped them be grateful that someone else had done that evil for them.”
“People point at Judas and Longinus and say with excitement, ‘Look! I’m not like them! I’m a good person!’”
“That’s the real meaning of why God was crucified between two thieves. What people don’t know is—those two thieves were also saviors. They just became the kind of savior known as the scapegoat.”
Finishing her monologue, the girl turned around, returned the New Testament she had been holding, and took down a copy of The Funeral of a Muslim.
Then she returned to her seat.
Meanwhile, in the Hui household—
Huimengyi’s desperate embrace left Ye Jinyi gasping for air. Her teeth had torn open Huimengyi’s lip, and the sharp pain reminded her she was still alive.
A bead of blood rolled into Ye Jinyi’s mouth, its metallic taste spreading across her tongue.
Huimengyi endured the pain, wanting to feel just a little more of the warmth that still remained from Ye Jinyi.
“Was that okay?”
Ye Jinyi asked cautiously, feeling like she might have gone too far.
But she still didn’t understand—why had Huimengyi asked her to do this?
“…It’s okay now.”
Huimengyi’s voice was barely audible, so quiet it was like she had been stripped of everything. Her throat felt crushed by the filth she saw in herself.
“Thank you, little sister…”
After speaking, Huimengyi gently pulled her lips away from Ye Jinyi’s.
Crystal-clear threads of saliva and blood glistened in the sunlight, thin and fragile.
Both of them wiped their mouths in silence, ending that brief and strange embrace.
“I’m going to the bathroom. Will you play one last game with me afterward?”
With that, Huimengyi finally released her arms, stood up, and walked out of the room.
Ye Jinyi watched her leave, still confused about what was going on, or what had caused Huimengyi’s emotions to swing so wildly.
Something felt wrong—very wrong—but she couldn’t tell what.
This foggy sense of unease, of being surrounded by something she couldn’t see or name—it gnawed at her.
Ye Jinyi lay back on the bed, eyes fixed on the moon-and-stars pattern of the ceiling light, overcome by an inexplicable sense of doubt and confusion.
In the bathroom, Huimengyi turned on the faucet at the sink in a hurry.
“Haaah!”
She finally had a moment to exhale the suffocating air she had been holding in.
A hoarse gasp tore through her chest—she had never experienced such intense mental chaos before.
Plunging her head into the icy sink water, she let the stream wash away the filthy tears from her face.
Only after a long while did Huimengyi finally feel a sense of calm return to her chest.
She dried her face and hair, then stepped out of the bathroom and returned to her room.
“I’m back.”
Hearing Huimengyi’s voice, Ye Jinyi quickly sat up from the bed.
She immediately noticed that Huimengyi looked much brighter than before.
Ye Jinyi hesitantly asked, “Sis, are you feeling a bit better now?”
Huimengyi nodded.
“Mm, much better. Let’s play a game together.”
Ye Jinyi asked curiously, “What game are we playing?”
“Cards—the one we play the most.”
“But… I don’t have a computer right now.”
Ye Jinyi suddenly looked a little troubled.
If they were going to play cards, she’d have to return to her tiny apartment—she didn’t have a computer here to play with Huimengyi.
“No worries, I’ve still got a spare laptop.”
With that, Huimengyi stepped onto the chair next to her desk and pulled down a laptop bag from the top shelf.
She opened the bag and took out a white notebook laptop, along with its matching keyboard, mouse, and mousepad.
Huimengyi then helped plug it in and set everything up for Ye Jinyi.
Once that was done, Huimengyi sat back down at her desk and powered on her desktop computer.
Ye Jinyi pressed the power button on the laptop, turning it on.
After it booted up, she found that this laptop just so happened to have the card game installed too.
She figured this was probably the computer Huimengyi used when she wanted to play games while away from home.
Ye Jinyi opened the game and reached the login screen—it was already logged into Huimengyi’s account.
She glanced at Huimengyi’s desktop screen and saw the same account logged in there too.
Looks like her guess wasn’t wrong.
Ye Jinyi logged out, entered her own credentials, and joined the game.
“I’ll invite you, Sis.”
After saying that, she created a room and sent Huimengyi a game invite.
Huimengyi clicked accept, and in the next second, the match began.
This round, Huimengyi played casually, without any real strategy.
She understood—this might be her last game ever with Ye Jinyi.
Winning or losing had long since lost its meaning.
She just wanted to chase a little piece of simple joy.
As expected, Huimengyi lost the match quickly.
After it ended, Ye Jinyi glanced over at her, who was still staring blankly at the screen.
“That round was totally aimless, Sis.”
Ye Jinyi wanted to understand what she was thinking, but didn’t know how to ask, so she just blurted out that awkward, clumsy line.
“I wanted… to feel that pure kind of fun again—the randomness that belongs only to card games.”
Huimengyi voiced what was on her mind.
Maybe only by letting go of the obsession with winning and losing could she truly understand the meaning of the game.
“Then let’s just play however we want. Leave the outcome to the game itself.”
Ye Jinyi shared her own thoughts—it had been a long time since she’d experienced that kind of pure randomness too.
She knew that even the most random games could be manipulated if you had the right tricks.
That was the only real difference between top players and regular ones.
“Alright, one more round.”
Huimengyi accepted her proposal and immediately sent Ye Jinyi another game invite.
This time, neither of them thought much.
They simply played what they drew, no strategies or combos—just acted on pure instinct.
You are a traitor, nothing you do now or later will change this