Chapter 32

Chapter 32

The newly organized session of the hiking and camping group was scheduled for April 17th, Saturday.

When Qiao Yang messaged Tang Qiu about her availability on Thursday evening, only one day remained. Even if Tang Qiu had triggered the prop Fate's Prophetic Eye, she would likely not have had time to act. So, despite her strong urge, she held back.

But plans always change faster than expected. Tang Qiu obediently played the role of her original self without making any rash moves, yet on Friday morning, as she was heading out as usual to buy groceries, she inadvertently triggered Fate's Prophetic Eye in the elevator.

It was the morning rush hour for work and school. When Tang Qiu stepped out, she ran into her next-door neighbor, a woman living alone. Maybe she had stayed up late—even with full makeup, the dark circles under her eyes were still noticeable. She nodded briefly at Tang Qiu in greeting, then squeezed into a corner, yawning frequently.

The elevator descended and soon stopped at the fifth floor. As the door opened, before Tang Qiu could see who was standing outside, the system interface suddenly popped up.

You have seen Fan Qinqin. The prop Fate's Prophetic Eye has been used.

You have successfully prophesied Fan Qinqin's fate. You have foreseen her death, time: April 16th, 21:37.

Tang Qiu raised an eyebrow involuntarily. What an unexpected surprise.

Today was April 16th. She had checked the time before leaving home—8:14 AM. A few more minutes had passed in the elevator. This time, she had even less time than before.

Still, it was convenient that the target lived in the same building and unit, just one floor apart. It would make acting easier than before, but also more dangerous, since it could easily draw police attention.

Tang Qiu weighed the pros and cons in her mind, but her eyes instinctively focused on the target, beginning to observe her.

The target was a girl, about the same age as the previous target—fifteen or sixteen. But she was anything but lively. She looked pale, with a worried expression, and unconsciously picked at her fingers as she entered the elevator. She seemed shy, perhaps even anxious, lacking the vitality and enthusiasm typical of her age.

After the target entered, Tang Qiu noticed another girl following behind, a bit younger. She must have woken up late, as her clothes were a mess, her collar turned inside her shirt, and her backpack unzipped. She had a steamed bun in her mouth. Once inside, she stuck close to her sister, quickly zipped her backpack, then took the bun out, chewing and speaking indistinctly: "Sis, you left without calling me. Are you mad? Sorry, sis, I didn't mean to oversleep. I was just too tired. I promise I'll get up on time next Monday. Don't be upset."

The younger girl seemed very fond of her sister, blinking large, cat-like eyes, acting cute and coaxing her.

The target gave a faint smile but didn't speak. From her expression, Tang Qiu could tell she wasn't angry but rather troubled and worried about something.

Tang Qiu carefully memorized the target's appearance, then looked at the embroidered name on her uniform's chest: Hongning No. 13 Middle School.

Tang Qiu knew this middle school. It wasn't too far from the community—about ten minutes by car and half an hour on foot.

The elevator soon reached the first floor. Tang Qiu followed the crowd out of the building. She stayed a little behind the target, appearing to look straight ahead, but she subtly pricked up her ears to catch the sisters' conversation.

The target seemed introverted. She walked with her head down, only looking at the ground, and didn't lift her head even when her sister spoke to her, lost in her own world.

The younger girl chattered away, "Sis, tomorrow is Saturday, no school. Can I play on the tablet a bit longer tonight? My deskmate invited me to an online murder mystery game. Several classmates are joining. I've already agreed. You have to keep it a secret from Mom, or she'll scold me again."

The target seemed not to have heard, or perhaps responded slowly. After a few seconds, she replied in a very soft voice, "If you don't want Mom to scold you, you better behave."

The younger girl pouted in dissatisfaction. "What do you mean I'm not behaving? I've been really good lately. Oh, sis, we're on the same side. Help me out, please."

Again, after a few seconds, the target whispered, "I won't deliberately tell Mom, but if she finds out, I won't lie."

Even without a direct answer, the younger girl was overjoyed. She jumped up and down a couple of times, then beamed, "Thanks, sis! I knew you were the best. Oh, and sis, don't forget to wait for me after school so we can go home together. I swapped duty with my deskmate; I don't have to do it today. On the way home, I want to eat starch sausages—one for you, one for me. We'll eat them secretly, and not tell Mom."

The younger girl stared wide-eyed at her sister. Only when the target nodded and said "okay" did she happily bounce away, starting to chatter about gossip among classmates.

Tang Qiu listened all the way. Soon, at the community gate, she parted ways with the sisters.

Tang Qiu turned right and headed to her usual supermarket, while the sisters turned left to the bus stop.

As she walked quietly on the sidewalk, Tang Qiu was thinking about her next move when the system popped up again.

"Host, be careful this time."

Tang Qiu understood the system's meaning but still asked knowingly, "Afraid I'll be caught?"

The system replied with one word.

"Yes."

Tang Qiu suddenly became curious. She asked the system in her mind, "What happens if you get discovered?"

Tang Qiu had guessed several possibilities—maybe there was an unfair clause preventing her from revealing its existence even if caught, or perhaps it didn't care, as the host was its reason for existence. But the system responded unexpectedly.

"I won't be discovered. More precisely, this world won't allow me to be discovered."

Tang Qiu raised an eyebrow in confusion, but quickly understood. Both her original world and the world she had transmigrated into were small worlds that had evolved from books and were transforming into real worlds. To break free from their constraints, these small worlds welcome every foreign soul that can help and benefit them, but absolutely not those that bring negative effects.

In a flash, Tang Qiu figured it out and said with satisfaction, "Looks like I need to hide both you and myself well."

After successfully shopping and returning home, Tang Qiu had a preliminary plan for her next action.

Considering the target's identity as a student and the prophesied time of death, Tang Qiu made two plans.

Plan A: If the target faced the death crisis at school, she would use a disguised identity. This time, she couldn't use the cat form, because after being rescued, the police would investigate the target thoroughly. If she used the cat form, it would be easy for the police to trace it back to this community. Even if not immediately linked to Tang Qiu, it would hinder her future actions. As for the surveillance footage of the cat form from over a week ago, seven days was enough to bypass the period in which the police typically retrieve security footage.

Plan B: If the target faced the death crisis at home, Tang Qiu would appear in person. The prophesied death time was 21:37—not too early, not too late. Most residents in the community would still be awake. If anyone in the entire unit took the lead, they might spontaneously save the target. Tang Qiu just needed to be the leader at the right moment, be cautious, and act convincingly enough. There was a good chance that only local police officers from the station would show up, not necessarily alerting the criminal police unit at Lei Yue's bureau.

She repeatedly wrote down various possibilities on paper, analyzing them until she felt confident, then tore the paper into pieces that couldn't be put back together and flushed them down the toilet.

That day, Tang Qiu seemed mostly normal at home, but in the evening, she moved her reading spot to the living room windowsill. From there, she could see the open space in front of the unit. Whenever the target came home, she would see her.

Time ticked by. It was past eight, dark outside, with less than an hour and a half until the target's death time. Just as Tang Qiu was about to change her clothes and leave quietly, two vaguely familiar figures finally appeared under the streetlights, walking slowly.

Tang Qiu focused. One tall, one short, wearing the same school uniform—one lively, one introverted. The younger sister's constant chattering confirmed that she needed to execute Plan B.

She watched until they disappeared from sight, then left the window and casually put her book on the sofa.

She walked to the full-length mirror in the living room and checked her outfit: loose, sporty short sleeves and pants, hair in a topknot. The only thing holding her back was her slippers, but everything else was fine.

After a second's consideration, she swapped the weapon hidden in her bedroom with the kitchen knife. Both were cleavers, looking similar, but one blade was dull and the other sharp. This was to ensure that if someone broke in and tried to harm her, they wouldn't be able to grab a lethal weapon from the kitchen.

Everything was ready. All that was left was to wait for the time to act.

Tang Qiu wasn't anxious or worried. She sat back down on the sofa and continued reading the book she had been a third of the way through. At 21:22, when screams and cries for help sounded from downstairs, she put the book down and stood up.

After stretching her limbs and adjusting her expression in front of the mirror to look hesitant and panicked, she grabbed the swapped cleaver from the kitchen and rushed out the door.

As she opened her door, the neighbor's door also opened. First, two heads peeked out to look around. Seeing nothing dangerous, they stepped out one after another, also holding weapons—a cleaver and a sturdy-looking wooden stool.

Tang Qiu recognized them: the woman living alone and her close friend who often visited.

They clearly remembered Tang Qiu too. Seeing her similar expression and posture, they felt like they'd found their group and naturally moved closer. Their bodies were tense as they spoke.

The neighbor, a pretty woman, asked Tang Qiu, sounding somewhat alarmed, "Did you hear that too? It seemed to come from downstairs. What do you think? Should we go check?"

Tang Qiu closed her door, holding up her cleaver, and said, "We should check. It sounded like it came from the fifth floor. Let's take the stairs down."

The neighbor's friend, clinging close to the other two, raised her stool and said, "Sounds good. Shall we go?"

The three exchanged glances, mustered their courage, and went downstairs together.

It was only one floor down, and they quickly arrived. When they reached the fifth-floor hallway, they saw several people already there, including some elderly people and children. The three finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The neighbor was much more outgoing than Tang Qiu. She led Tang Qiu and her own best friend straight into the crowd, pushing their way in while asking, "Hey, ma'am, what happened?"

Even though the neighbor didn't address anyone in particular, a warm-hearted auntie still replied, "Oh boy, it's that jerk from apartment 502. He cheated, separated from his wife, and they were in the middle of getting a divorce. Nobody knows why, but he showed up at the door today. He didn't find his wife, so instead he started beating the hell out of his two girls. He's not even human."

With the neighbor clearing the path, and despite a few grumbles from those around them, they managed to squeeze to the front. Tang Qiu saw a tall, burly middle-aged man with a twisted, purple-red face, punching and kicking his two daughters wildly.

He looked like he'd been drinking—his strikes were erratic and uncoordinated, but he was putting a lot of force into them, as if he was venting his anger, like he was determined to beat them to death.

Some neighbors in the building were already trying to stop him, but they were all shorter or heavier, and none seemed to match his strength. Plus, since he was drunk, even when they grabbed hold of him, he struggled, kicking and lashing out.

Tang Qiu hadn't expected it would come to this. She glanced at the cleaver in her hand and realized it was completely useless, so she continued to observe.

In her initial speculation, the target (the girl)'s life-threatening crisis might have been caused by a known assailant or, unluckily, someone crazy. Either way, the perpetrator would definitely be armed. But she never imagined it would be domestic violence.

She looked at the growing crowd of neighbors in the hallway, and the young people who had joined in to stop the violence, feeling somewhat bewildered. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn't for the life of her figure out how the target (the girl) could die under these circumstances—with so many people intervening and witnessing, it seemed impossible that the target would be beaten to death.