After drawing cards, the evil god became my source of吐槽 (tu cao, a form of humorous commentary/criti

Chapter 49 Not Entering the Home
After the meal, He Lin arranged a car for her.

An Jing did not refuse.

She really wanted to go home and visit.

I haven't been back for so long, my parents and brother must be worried sick.

It was still early when the car left the base of the lamplighters, but the road was somewhat dimly lit.

The clouds hung low on a summer afternoon. Outside the car window were streets that were both familiar and unfamiliar. Pedestrians hurried by, no one looked up, and no one knew that a girl who had survived two mysterious magnetic fields was sitting in the car.

The system was quiet in her ear.

Perhaps it was because he sensed her silence.

It was a little confused. Wasn't An Jing going back to see her family? Why didn't she seem happy at all?

The car windows were covered with a thin film, blocking the view from the outside.

An Jing leaned back in the back seat, her fingers gripping her phone, and swiped to the top of her contacts.

The word "Mom" hangs there all alone.

She hesitated for a moment, but still didn't click on it.

He lived in an old neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, a nine-story building without an elevator, with patches of peeling paint on the stairwell walls. When she was little, she would often climb up the stairs, panting, with her schoolbag on her back. Every day, the first thing her mother would do after opening the door was to wipe her sweat with a smile.

She remembered that the lights in that hallway had been broken for a long time and no one had fixed them. When it got dark, she could only feel her way forward by feeling the dust on the wall.

Later, her father paid for all the lights in the building to be replaced so that she wouldn't be afraid of the dark.

She knew from a young age that her parents loved her and doted on her.

Despite this environment, An Jing has always been quiet and reserved, never acting spoiled or unreasonable with her family.

She clearly misses them and feels happy when she is loved, but she always finds it difficult to express her love for them.

When the car stopped, she looked up out the window.

The familiar unit number.

Clothes were still hanging on the familiar balcony, laundry clips swaying gently in the breeze. Downstairs, a few neighbors sat on small stools, playing cards and chatting. Someone even called out, "Hey, whose family called a black cab?"

An Jing remained seated in the car, not getting out.

The driver turned and glanced at her, then politely asked, "Miss An, is this the place?"

She nodded and said softly, "Okay, please wait for me a moment."

The driver responded but didn't ask any more questions.

An Jing got out of the car by herself.

Stepping onto the familiar cement ground, the solid feel made her feel unsteady.

She walked step by step to the entrance of the building.

The iron gate is still there, covered in rust. When she was a child, she once secretly used her key to carve the character "安" (peace/safety) on the gate when no one was around; the fine stroke is still visible on the edge.

She stretched out her hand.

His fingers landed on the doorknob.

But I didn't push it away.

What will the house look like?

Is it her mother busy cooking in the kitchen while chatting and laughing on the phone with someone, or her father sitting on the sofa watching a game, occasionally looking up to ask if dinner is ready?
She has been out of contact for several days and has hardly contacted her family during this time.

He Lin told her that the Special Service would handle these "family reassurance" matters, saying that she had been transferred to another province to recuperate because of the earthquake and that the signal was interrupted.

"Signal interruption" is a useful term.

So do her parents really think she's safe and recuperating?
You really never had any doubts?

An Jing stared at the door, her fingers curling slightly.

finally.

She still didn't push her away.

She turned around and walked back to the car.

The driver wasn't surprised; he simply opened the door calmly and asked, "Back to base?"

"Ah."

When the car restarted, the system finally couldn't help but ask a question.

Don't you miss them a lot?

Don't you want to go home and visit your family?

Its voice was soft, as if testing the waters, or perhaps hesitant. [You're already at the door, why don't you go in?]

An Jing leaned against the car window, watching the street recede outside, and remained silent for a long time before speaking.

"System, you don't understand."

"From the moment I decided to tell the Secret Service about my existence, I was no longer in control of myself."

She spoke slowly, but her tone was exceptionally clear.

“My every move is being watched, either by the Lights Bureau or by you.”

"My freedom has disappeared. Whether I can live, where I can go, what I can say, and even going home to see my parents all depend on other people's approval."

"If I go back into that house, I'll just be bringing trouble with me."

"Although you said that the generation of the magnetic field is unrelated to the origin, I still feel that it will affect and implicate them."

She chuckled softly, but there was no hint of a smile in her eyes.

“I’m more afraid that once I get home, I’ll abandon the decision I’ve worked so hard to make and try to find other ways to escape.”

An Jing had already made a deal with 001 and the others in her mind.

They risked their lives to save hers.

She traded her freedom for all of this.

"Therefore, I cannot get close to them."

The system fell silent.

It truly doesn't understand.

They don't understand what "human relationships" are, nor do they understand the weight of "concern" and "worry".

It simply records, analyzes, and operates continuously, judging behavioral patterns from parameters and calculating the optimal solution from logic.

But at this moment, it had nothing to say.

An Jing's words were not extreme; she was truly clear-headed.

She was more lucid than most adults.

Ultimately, isn't it me who caused you to lose your freedom?

The system finally spoke in a low voice.

An Jing turned her head to look out the window without answering.

She did hear it.

I just didn't have the energy to say anything.

What can be changed?

The wind rustled through the leaves of the trees on the roadside.

The only sounds inside the car were the low rumble of the engine and An Jing's slightly chilly breathing.

Five o'clock in the evening, at the entrance of the base.

When she pushed open the door again and walked into the white-walled, gray-tiled building, all the surveillance equipment simultaneously updated her return information.

The door opened slightly, the system recognized the user, and the lock clicked.

An Jing glanced down at the tracking device on her wrist and smiled faintly.

Meanwhile, at the other end of that old residential area, the sunlight was already slanting down onto the cement ground.

Wu Jing carried two bags of groceries she had just bought: one bag contained fresh leafy greens, and the other contained chilled frozen tofu and pork ribs. She was wearing flat cloth shoes and walked slowly, her breathing becoming noticeably labored; the older she got, the more breathless she became climbing stairs.

As soon as she turned into the stairwell, the neighbors who were sitting downstairs playing cards looked up and saw her.

"Oh, Sister Wu, you're back from grocery shopping!"

"Is the Wu family celebrating something good today?"

"Your daughter is back! We all saw her!"

Several sounds rang out in succession, the tone of which was unusually enthusiastic, as if they had unearthed something new.

Wu Jing was taken aback, thinking they were just chatting casually again.

She replied with a smile, "There's no good news. An Jing is away from home and might not be able to come back."

“No, no.” One of the old ladies quickly waved her hand. “We really saw it! This afternoon, around four o’clock, a black car stopped downstairs at your house. Your daughter got out of the car, stood at your door for a while without going in, and then left! We definitely didn’t mistake her. I watched her grow up.”

(End of this chapter)