Recently, Pink's grandma's ntal state had deteriorated significantly.
Whenever Lin Sanjiu went out to water her catmint, she often saw Grandma Pink standing guard at her apartnt door. Each ti Lin Sanjiu greeted her, Grandma Pink would have a blank expression, clearly not recognizing her. Fortunately, the old lady still rembered her grandson, Pink, following him closely as if fearing he would disappear the mont she lost sight of him.
It had only been a few days since entering the ga, but in Lin Sanjiu's eyes, the stout middle-aged man had beco synonymous with Grandma Pink. Although she still saw a middle-aged man, her mind would instinctively conjure up Grandma Pink.
After each greeting, Lin Sanjiu beca worried. With Grandma Pink so confused, what story could she tell to convince her of her psychic abilities? Would Grandma Pink even understand what psychic powers were?
It wasn't just Grandma Pink. Among all her neighbors, only Goldie was sowhat skeptical of her. The progress on the role-playing manual would sotis show a '1' and sotis a '0', indicating Goldie's vacillation between belief and disbelief. Of course, Elizabeth wouldn't feel guilty about exploiting soone's ntal instability to achieve her goals.
If Goldie hadn't hallucinated seeing bare feet beneath her curtain, even she might not have believed Lin Sanjiu. Lin Sanjiu hadn't been certain whether Goldie was testing her or truly hallucinating. She decided to go along with it, claiming to have an "old friend" who followed her everywhere. Only when she saw Goldie's expression did she realize, thanks to Goldie's ntal state, she finally had soone who might believe her.
As for the next person to convince, she had no idea where to start. Telling stories at the tea party seed ineffective. If she continued to play by the rules, she would never clear the ga.
One afternoon, as Lin Sanjiu walked out of her room on ti, she greeted Pink. "Not playing your fighting ga today, Pink? Reading comics instead?"
Pink was still sitting by the apartnt door as usual. However, he looked odd that day: he wasn't holding the book with his hands. Instead, he pinned the comic book with his feet, his deep gold eyelashes cast downward. Whenever he wanted to turn a page, he would use a stick, seemingly unwilling to touch the book directly.
"Why are you reading like that?" Lin Sanjiu asked.
Pink looked up, his erald-green eyes shimring under the sunlight. "None of your business," he said, as rude as always.
Lin Sanjiu was about to leave when Pink stopped her.
Those green eyes, deep-set in snowy white, were fixed intently on her. "You're a witch, right?"
"I prefer to be called a psychic."
"Since you claim to be a witch," Pink continued, "Can you predict sothing for ?"
Lin Sanjiu's eyes lit up. "What is it?"
Pink frowned, hesitating, then said, "Predict when I will die."
Hearing such words from a five-year-old startled Lin Sanjiu. She was about to speak, still undecided on the right response, when she saw Pink suddenly stand up. He kicked away the comic book on the ground and muttered, "Never mind," before heading back into his apartnt.
Lin Sanjiu bent down to pick up the comic, covering her hand with her sleeve. As she straightened up, she instinctively glanced towards Pink's apartnt and, sure enough, saw it again.
Behind the floor-to-ceiling window, the curtain was slightly drawn. An old woman peeked out from the shadows, revealing an eye so murky it seed almost blue. Their eyes t through the thin gap, and the old woman quickly disappeared behind the curtain.
Did Grandma Pink give this comic to Pink?
Holding the comic, Lin Sanjiu slowly descended the stairs, lost in thought. Why would she harm her own grandson? Perhaps her confusion—
She abruptly stopped halfway down the staircase. From where she stood, she could still see Pink's apartnt window. The curtains were not fully closed, leaving a dark gap.
Maybe she was being overly suspicious, but... Whose eye did she just see?
Grandma Pink always intently watched one person: her grandson. Once he returned to the apartnt, she no longer stared outside. It was rare for her to look at anyone else. Furthermore, the person playing Grandma Pink's character was a middle-aged man, not nearly old enough for his eyes to be so murky and blue.
Was it a trick of the light? Or was it Ms. Chen?
Coincidentally, just as Lin Sanjiu thought of this, she saw Ms. Chen stepping out of her apartnt. Probably unable to bear the crying of the baby next door, she walked over and knocked on Apartnt No. 4. After a while, Jet opened the door, flustered, with a towel on his shoulder and a milk bottle in hand, sweat covering his forehead.
"I'm sorry," he said upon seeing Ms. Chen. "I was warming up the milk; he's hungry... As you know, he doesn't have his mother to feed him."
Their conversation brushed past Lin Sanjiu's ears. Standing on the staircase, she alternated between glancing at Pink's house and watching Ms. Chen. As dinner ti approached, the holy ambiance within the apartnt building seed thicker than usual, making her think she might have overthought the earlier situation. If that wasn't Grandma Pink, who else could it be? Perhaps due to her age, she moved slower and didn't shift her gaze when her grandson returned. That was plausible.
When Lin Sanjiu approached Apartnt No. 4, Jet's expression darkened upon seeing her. Ms. Chen was still standing at the door, and when she heard footsteps, her eyes were imdiately drawn to the comic in Lin Sanjiu's hands.
"What are you doing here?"
"Why are you holding that?"
They spoke almost simultaneously.
Ignoring Jet, Lin Sanjiu, still using her sleeve to hold the comic, asked, "Do you recognize this comic?"
"It's the one I gave to Pink," Ms. Chen said with a frown. "Why did you take it? Did you soil it? Why are you holding it like that?"
Before Lin Sanjiu could respond, the comic was snatched away. Ms. Chen's unprotected hands pressed directly onto the comic, startling Lin Sanjiu into silence. Oblivious, the old lady took the comic and trudged back upstairs, presumably to return it to Pink.
Watching her receding figure, Lin Sanjiu was montarily unsure how to react. Ms. Chen seed unaffected, making Lin Sanjiu feel her suspicions might have been exaggerated. When she turned, Jet was staring coldly at her.
She quickly produced her prepared excuse, saying softly, "I ca to see Goldie. Trying different approaches might not be a bad idea for her."
Jet, the diligent husband, seed ready to refuse her entry.
Lin Sanjiu hurried past the door, smiling. "Didn't you notice she seed better after I comforted her?"
He hesitated for a mont.
"I'll just sit with her and help her stabilize her mood, then leave."
It seed to persuade Jet. "I still need to warm the milk. Don't fill her head with nonsense. I'll be right back."
A minute or two was enough for Lin Sanjiu. As Jet disappeared behind a door down the hallway, she seized the opportunity and quickly entered the master bedroom. Goldie lay on the bed, motionless as if asleep.
Looking around, Lin Sanjiu found a walkie-talkie-like device on the bedside table — a baby monitor, which most parents had to detect any unusual noises. She grabbed it, turned it off, and pocketed it. She couldn't afford such a device; she'd have to steal the corresponding device from the baby's room later to use it for eavesdropping.
Instinctively looking up, Lin Sanjiu's gaze landed on the window opposite the bed. Projected on it was Goldie's blurry reflection as she lay sideways. Her large, round eyes in the reflection were staring directly at Lin Sanjiu through the window.
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