A good day starts in the morning, and life depends on movement.
Su Nuo never thought she would remember this saying again in her life.
“Right here, it’s very clean. You can just step on it or sit down,” Lin Yingluo patted the yoga mat beneath her.
After the heavy rain two days ago, it cleared up yesterday and the sky had been sunny ever since.
The morning sunlight was just right because in an hour or two, the sun would become scorching hot.
Under the morning sunlight, the four Big White Rabbit Plush toys bounced softly, their fur shining with a gentle glow.
“For your first time, don’t push yourself. Just try the basic poses. Follow me.”
Lin Yingluo was very thoughtful.
To take good care of Su Nuo, a beginner, she not only set up a Tablet in front playing a tutorial video but also personally taught her hand by hand.
Today, Su Nuo wore yoga clothes too—exactly the set that her big sister had gifted her.
The two sets were the same color and style, making them look like a couple’s outfit when seen unexpectedly.
“Start like this. Shoulders lower, inhale…”
Lin Yingluo stood in front of Su Nuo and carefully adjusted her movements hand by hand.
Because their clothes were tight and large, they often brushed and bumped against each other, soft and gentle.
Su Xiao Nuo coldly watched the scene inside Su Nuo’s mind: “Such a pervert. Didn’t get any last night, so now trying all sorts of ways to make up for it today, huh?”
She thought her expression was cold and emotionless, like a killer. In reality, to outsiders, it looked like a little girl stiffening her face to act cool.
Su Nuo didn’t reply.
She was focused on exercising, not thinking about all those strange things.
“That’s about enough. For you, just do these basic poses first,” Lin Yingluo took the towel from the clothes hanger.
“I’m going to wash mine. You practice by yourself for a bit.”
Teaching while working out wasn’t exhausting, but she was sweating quite a bit.
“Okay.”
After Lin Yingluo left, Su Xiao Nuo eagerly asked, “How do you feel? Is it working?”
“Yeah,” Su Nuo said as she moved through the basic yoga poses, breathing in and out.
Then she thought, “I feel my mind calming down. I feel spiritually uplifted.”
“That’s just psychological.”
“No, it really works…”
“If you don’t believe me, next time when you get punished, I’ll keep track and see how much longer it lasts. Math doesn’t lie.”
Su Xiao Nuo’s words silenced Su Nuo.
She wanted to prove herself but was afraid of failing and thus confirming Xiao Nuo’s point.
“All is illusion. When the mind is calm, the spirit is calm. Everything in the universe is one. Breathing is the connection of all things…”
Su Nuo thought the yoga teacher in the video made sense and decided to keep practicing seriously without distraction.
But half a minute later, the girl suddenly stopped and looked toward the stairway.
“What’s wrong?”
Su Xiao Nuo looked over with her.
“Less than a minute in, already missing Lin Yingluo?”
“No, I thought Lin Elder Sister had come back.”
“No, she just left.”
It did seem that way—there wasn’t a single shadow over there.
Su Nuo shook her head to clear her mind and continued.
But in less than two minutes, she stopped again and glanced toward the door.
Still nothing, only the gentle morning breeze blowing.
“Missing her again?”
Su Xiao Nuo pouted unhappily.
“If you’re bored, just talk to me. Don’t keep thinking about others.”
“No, I really feel like someone is… you keep an eye out for me.”
Su Nuo gave Xiao Nuo a task and resumed her yoga.
The video instructor said that in life, many things distract the mind, making it hard to concentrate, but those disturbances are illusions.
Only through breathing can one grasp the true meaning of the world…
The girl turned back again, but there was still nothing.
“Xiao Nuo, did you see anyone just now?”
“I don’t know,” Su Xiao Nuo blinked innocently.
“I can only see what you see. I can’t make you grow eyes on your back.”
Even though she was a dual-core processor, the big and small cores each had limitations.
For vision, she could only help process details on the edge of Su Nuo’s field of view to avoid missing anything.
But if Su Nuo didn’t see it, Xiao Nuo couldn’t either.
“What’s wrong with you? Is someone really spying on you?”
“I don’t know,” Su Nuo withdrew her gaze.
“But I keep feeling watched.”
“But there’s nothing over there, and I didn’t hear anything. Besides, there are only three people in this house. Including me, four total. Who would be secretly watching you?”
Su Xiao Nuo sat inside Su Nuo’s mind, counting on her fingers as she analyzed calmly: “Lin Yingluo is the homeowner here. She goes wherever she wants, looks at whoever she wants, even punishes directly. No need to spy.”
Rough words but sound logic.
“Then there’s Lin Chu Xi. She has no reason. You live together at school every day and even during breaks. If it were me, I’d be annoyed.”
Xiao Nuo’s thinking was that with such intense proximity, no one but vanilla mud could tolerate it.
“Next is me, needless to say. I’m here every day spying on you. If you felt anything, it wouldn’t have waited this long.”
“So there’s only one answer,” Su Xiao Nuo pointed a finger, “You yourself!”
Su Nuo didn’t expect that after all the analysis, the conclusion would be this: “Me?”
“Yeah. Basically, it’s an illusion. Totally normal. I’ve watched videos about it. People have many kinds of psychological illusions—Matthäus Effect, Bridge Effect, Crash Effect, Great Fasting Effect, and so on. Yours is probably one of those.”
Su Xiao Nuo spoke seriously and with concern.
“I think you just don’t get enough punishments. If you got more, you wouldn’t overthink.”
Su Nuo wanted to argue but had no confidence.
She’d checked the door and really saw nothing but the wind lightly swaying the curtains.
Could it really be an illusion?
Later, Lin Yingluo returned, helped her practice the next set of moves, then went out to work.
Su Nuo began her normal day, first taking a nap, then going downstairs to prepare Lunch—ordering food by phone.
It wasn’t until noon that Lin Chu Xi appeared before her.
Su Nuo hesitated for a moment, then tentatively asked, “Xi Xi, when did you get up today?”
“Not early. Why?”
“Nothing, just asking.”
Of course, Xiao Nuo had already analyzed it—it couldn’t be her.
Su Nuo sighed, thinking maybe it really was just her imagination.
She didn’t notice that Lin Chu Xi’s answer wasn’t actually very specific.
Afterwards, the feeling of being watched never disappeared.
Instead, it followed her like a shadow. In the next few days, Su Nuo often felt someone behind her, but when she turned around, there was nothing.
On the day before she was to start her internship trial, Su Xiao Nuo gave her the ultimate advice:
“You just don’t get punished enough. Trust me, just get punished once and you’ll be fine.”
“Hmm…”