Thump… thump… thump…
The voices outside the classroom gradually faded, like an invisible hand loosening its grip on Ye Shiyu’s heart. Her breathing steadied as rationality reclaimed her mind, allowing her to process what had just transpired.
Looking down at her wrist, where Yan Huan had grabbed her earlier, she noticed a faint red mark against her pale, delicate skin. The imprint lingered, the result of blood rushing beneath her sensitive surface.
Ye Shiyu had the type of skin that easily bore marks, her fair complexion like a pristine canvas prone to any disturbance. Normally, she despised such visible "encroachments" into her personal space, much like how she hated anyone touching her belongings without permission.
But since Yan Huan had entered her life, it seemed exceptions were being made.
Perhaps it was his kindness, as shown on that unforgettable night, or his ever-present smile that made her want to soften, to give something in return.
She had only intended to ask for his help with her computer and casually inquire about his likes. Instead, she had once again resorted to hypnosis.
I’m sorry, Xiao Huan…
She vowed to herself, I won’t use hypnosis on you again.
Even though hearing him call her “sister” had been so fulfilling—if only his tone had been a little softer during the playful act—it was still wrong.
Next time, she promised herself, she would resist the temptation.
Ye Shiyu’s inner guilt made her feel almost saintly… almost. Because part of her still regretted not indulging further when asking Yan Huan to act spoiled.
“Xiao Huan, on my count of three, two, one… you’ll wake from the hypnosis.”
She recited the command in her mind, a hint of nervousness accompanying her resolve.
The last time she had used the app, she had left the room beforehand, so she didn’t know what it was like to witness the process face-to-face.
As her command took effect, she sensed the familiar feeling of memories dissolving like receding tides. Everything that had happened under hypnosis would vanish from Yan Huan’s mind, replaced with a fabricated sequence of events.
Unless reminded by a Modifier or an external trigger, the subject would have no way of realizing anything unusual had occurred.
“…”
Yan Huan’s blank eyes closed momentarily, and when they reopened, his gaze was clear, as though nothing had happened.
“Sister Shiyu?”
“Let’s get back to fixing the computer.”
Seeing that he hadn’t noticed anything amiss, Ye Shiyu exhaled in relief, returning to her usual doll-like demeanor. Yet her gaze, like that of a guilty party revisiting the crime scene, occasionally wandered to Yan Huan.
Oblivious, Yan Huan resumed fixing her laptop, though his mind buzzed with analysis.
People who obtained Modifiers often escalated their use over time. At first, their actions were tentative and restrained, progressing only after testing the waters.
Ye Shiyu was no exception. With her Modifier’s 15-minute time limit, she faced inherent constraints. Yet her progression was swifter than Yan Huan had anticipated.
It was only Sunday night that he had used a mix of guilt-tripping and persuasion to curb her Modifier usage. By Tuesday, she was at it again, albeit under the pretense of avoiding social death over her browser history.
What worried him was what came after.
Even if her initial usage was driven by an urgent need, she had quickly succumbed to the temptation, issuing a string of increasingly indulgent commands. Though not excessive yet, it was a slippery slope.
Her hesitations and apologies showed that his earlier interventions hadn’t been entirely ineffective. The problem was the lack of intensity.
For someone like Ye Shiyu, he would need to escalate his approach.
Yan Huan, amateur psychologist, he mused wryly.
“Sister Shiyu, just install the next-generation antivirus. It’s user-friendly and perfect for non-tech-savvy users.”
“Mm-hmm…”
Ye Shiyu nodded obediently, letting Yan Huan type and click on her laptop without paying much attention to his actions.
Yan Huan, however, momentarily forgot her aversion to others handling her things. His mind was preoccupied with the next steps in his plan and the peculiar mention of Bai Yi earlier.
In the bustling schoolyard, amidst a symphony of muted clock-like ticks, Bai Yi stood out.
The girl wore sunglasses and a chic outfit: a creamy long-sleeved top and a black linen skirt that swayed with her movements. Even behind her sunglasses, her beauty radiated, exuding an air of confidence and youth.
Chewing on strawberry-flavored bubble gum, she intermittently blew bubbles that popped like tiny firecrackers.
Pop!
Her lips shimmered with a faint pink gloss, like the sweet coating of her gum, tantalizingly vibrant.
"Ugh, I don’t feel like attending class at all this afternoon," she muttered to herself. "Maybe I’ll sneak out for a bit… using that."
From her pocket, she pulled out an antique-looking pocket watch. Its rustic exterior belied the exquisite craftsmanship within.
The watch’s face, adorned with ghostly, floating text, added an otherworldly allure:
Nameless Watch
Level: 1
Effect: Unnoticed
Daily Use: 10 minutes (unused time rolls over, up to 60 minutes)
The effect was as strange as its description: during use, Bai Yi became imperceptible, her actions invisible to others until the effect ended. At that moment, everything she had done would hit all affected parties simultaneously.
With this power, Bai Yi could touch others without them noticing—at least, not until the watch’s effect wore off.
Objects interacted with during use would also reset to their original state, as though untouched.
It was a toy of unimaginable utility.
Since the watch mysteriously appeared in her bag the previous Friday, it had become Bai Yi’s favorite tool for mischief.
Why bother with class when I can have some real fun?
Crossing the school gates unnoticed, Bai Yi strolled into the nearby commercial district. She wandered into a sweets shop and grabbed a skewer of candied hawthorn without paying, savoring the forbidden indulgence.
Her manager, always monitoring her diet to ensure she stayed slim and flawless, would have thrown a fit at the sight.
If he wants me to eat salads while posting pictures of hotpot feasts online, he can shove it.
With each bite, her imagined defiance grew fiercer, like she was biting into her manager’s head instead of the candied treat.
"Ha! Even the Student Council President said I’m not just a mascot!"
"Oh? Yan Huan said that to you?"
"Of course! But hey, you’ve gotta earn respect, you know? It’s because I’m brilliant that he thinks that way."
"Ha-ha-ha…"
Bai Yi smirked, savoring both the sugary snack and the sound of Yan Huan’s name being casually mentioned.
Bai Yi glanced over her sunglasses toward the source of the voices and spotted You Anlina chatting with some senior girls outside a milk tea shop.
That annoying girl…
Bai Yi scoffed inwardly and shifted her gaze away. She planned to leave before the ten-minute effect of her watch wore off. She wasn’t about to dip into the reserve she’d been saving since the weekend.
Bai Yi had a bit of a “hoarder” mentality.
Still, her peripheral vision was caught by a noticeboard at the school gate. Displayed prominently was the Student Council emblem and member profiles.
“Yan Huan, Student Council President. Known for his outstanding academic performance and exceptional charisma, he won the student body’s favor last fall, achieving…”
Bai Yi’s chewing slowed as her eyes locked onto Yan Huan’s photo. A look of annoyance crossed her face.
Click.
The hawthorn skewer in her mouth seemed to lose its sweetness, but she wasn’t one to waste food. Carrying it along, she left Yuanyue Academy for the afternoon.
By dusk, Bai Yi arrived at a high-end villa in Jinghe District.
She unlocked the door with her fingerprint, stepping into the spacious interior. From the kitchen, she could hear the faint hum of the range hood, indicating her mother was cooking.
Bai Yi glanced toward the kitchen as she slipped off her shoes near the door. She removed her fisherman’s hat, sunglasses, and mask, tossing them into a nearby basket.
“I’m back…”
“How was school today?”
The question came not from the kitchen but the living room.
Bai Yi froze momentarily, smoothing out her slightly messy hair before casually walking into the living room.
“It was fine. Just an elective class.”
Sitting on the sofa in a gray loungewear set was her mother, Zuo Jiangqin, who regarded Bai Yi with a scrutinizing look.
Zuo Jiangqin raised an eyebrow and said,
“I sent Xiao Ji to pick you up this afternoon. She told me she didn’t see you come out of the school.”
Xiao Ji, full name Ji Lin, was Bai Yi’s manager.
Bai Yi’s steps faltered slightly as she turned toward her mother, her tone defensive.
“I told you I’d come back on my own.”
“You didn’t even go to school, did you?”
“…And so what if I didn’t?”
Bai Yi sighed deeply, turning away to avoid the conversation. But her mother’s sharp voice stopped her in her tracks.
“It was just one elective class! How hard is it to show up?”
“And it’s just one class! What difference does it make?”
“Look at this!”
Zuo Jiangqin’s frustration boiled over. She grabbed her phone, opened an email, and shoved it toward Bai Yi.
“The Student Council emailed me your start-of-term exam results this morning—292 out of 500. Ranked 152 out of 178 in your grade. Isn’t that embarrassing? What would your fans say if they knew how bad your grades are?”
“Who cares what they say? I’m busy with events all the time! I’ve barely attended any classes; how am I supposed to do well?”
“You’ve barely attended? Then why skip the one class you do have? It’s because you’re lazy!”
“Mom, don’t talk about things you don’t understand. You don’t even know the difference between core and elective courses—what’s the point of arguing with you?”
Their argument devolved into a shouting match, with Bai Yi eventually waving her hand dismissively.
“I’m tired. I’m going to rest.”
Before she could leave, Zuo Jiangqin’s sharp voice rang out again.
“Stop right there! You’ve been slacking off! Xiao Ji says you don’t take your events seriously, and now you’re skipping school too. What are you trying to do with your life?”
“…”
Bai Yi clenched her fists as anger bubbled beneath the surface.
Her mother and manager had forced her into endless promotional gigs, stifling her creative aspirations under the guise of “market appeal.” While her peers enjoyed life, she felt trapped, working tirelessly with little to show for it.
Yet, despite the storm of thoughts raging in her mind, Bai Yi took a deep breath and decided to disengage.
Her face fell into a cold expression as she reached for the doorknob to her room.
“Wait! Eat the salad on the table before you go!”
Bai Yi didn’t respond, her hand already on the door.
Zuo Jiangqin sighed loudly behind her, muttering,
“Look at your Student Council President, Yan Huan. Top of his class, Student Council President, and every exam’s highest scorer. Don’t forget, he was at the same talent competition as you back then…”
Hearing this, Bai Yi’s steps faltered, and her hand gripped the doorknob tightly.
Zuo Jiangqin, oblivious to her daughter’s reaction, continued,
“He smiled once, and the talent scouts insisted on signing him. Even when they begged him to join, he refused! Meanwhile, we had to write songs and practice instruments tirelessly just to get a spot…”
Her voice carried a mix of resentment and exasperation.
“And you? You have no right to slack off! He had choices; we didn’t. That means you need to seize every opportunity.
“We got you into the entertainment industry and Yuanyue Academy. Work hard! Take your events seriously! Get your grades up so Xiao Ji can market you properly—do you hear me?”
When she looked up, she saw Bai Yi glaring at her with an expression she had never seen before.
The air in the room grew icy, despite the warm soup simmering in the kitchen.
A chilling, almost predatory darkness clouded Bai Yi’s gaze.
After a tense silence, she chuckled coldly and said,
“If you like him so much, Mom, why don’t you just make him your son?”
“You—”
Bang!
Before Zuo Jiangqin could respond, Bai Yi flung her door open and slammed it shut behind her.
“Ugh, this child…”
Zuo Jiangqin frowned, still fuming, but the villa fell into a deafening silence.
No guitar chords echoed from Bai Yi’s room, as they usually would after an argument.
Sitting alone on the couch, Zuo Jiangqin began to realize that she might have gone too far.
Her intentions, however, were clear. She had repeatedly brought up Yan Huan as a benchmark to motivate Bai Yi.
The boy had been unforgettable during the talent show—his stunning looks, charm, and effortless magnetism. Even now at Yuanyue, he was immensely popular and academically brilliant.
To Zuo Jiangqin, comparing Bai Yi to him was a way to push her harder.
But had it worked?
“Beep… beep… beep…”
The timer in the kitchen signaled that the soup was done.
Sighing, Zuo Jiangqin walked to the stove, turned off the heat, and ladled out a bowl of pork rib soup. She grabbed the salad from the table and headed toward Bai Yi’s room.
“Knock, knock, knock…”
“Come eat.”
Her voice was gentler this time, a quiet peace offering.
But no response came.
Frustrated, Zuo Jiangqin set the dishes on the table and reached for Bai Yi’s door.
“I said come eat—didn’t you hear—”
The door swung open, revealing an empty room.
“Yi Yi?”
She froze, her heart skipping a beat as she called Bai Yi’s nickname.
Silence greeted her, the room devoid of life. The only response came from the open window, its curtain billowing gently in the evening breeze.