Chapter 892: Inquiry

Hua stands in front of the sink, both hands braced on the cold marble countertop.

The mirror reflects her still flushed face.

She lowers her head to look at the small dark water stain spreading at the collar of her school uniform, inhales deeply, then splashes a second handful of cold water onto her face.

The coolness seeps into the skin of her cheek, and she feels her mind finally emerging a little from the shock of the swimsuit painting she just saw.

Just a little.

She turns on the faucet, pulls two sheets from the nearby tissue box, and presses the water marks on her face dry in front of the mirror, moving carefully, as if using the simple mechanical act of wiping her face to reassemble her scattered mental defenses.

Just as she crumples the tissue into a ball and tosses it into the trash can, the bathroom door is pushed open.

A pair of black short‑heeled boots steps onto the tiled floor, the soles clicking lightly against the tiles.

Hua sees the newcomer in the mirror.

The black teacher's uniform is tailored to fit, and the school‑badge brooch at the collar glints with a silvery cold light under the fluorescent lamp.

Gray‑white long hair falls behind her shoulders, the ends slightly curled, swaying gently with each step.

A faint curve lifts the corner of her mouth.

"Hua, classmate."

Heimu stops at the sink beside her, reaches to turn on the faucet, and the rushing water splashes over her slender, fair fingers.

She lowers her head to wash her hands, moving casually yet gracefully, her fingers interlacing and rubbing in the stream.

"Hello, teacher!"

Hua bows slightly.

Heimu glances at her from the mirror.

Hua's face is still flushed, and the water stain at the collar of her uniform stands out sharply in the light.

She silently makes a note to Ge Lei Xiu in her mind, "I don't know what the little painter drew, but it certainly wasn't anything proper."

Yet she shows nothing on her face, simply working soap into a lather in her palm, then speaking in a very casual tone.

"Your face is so red—aren't you running a fever?"

Hua's body stiffens slightly.

"…Uhm… a bit stuffy. It's much better now."

As she speaks, she nudges the crumpled tissue toward the trash can again, as if confirming it is securely where it belongs.

Heimu's mouth curve deepens ever so slightly.

She doesn't follow up, merely dipping her fingers under the faucet to rinse away the foam, then grabs a tissue to dry her hands.

She wipes her hands slowly, turning her head as she does, and in a conversational tone says,

"Come to think of it, Hua, what are your plans for the future?"

The question comes completely unannounced.

Hua pauses briefly, perhaps a little surprised; it's normal for a teacher to ask a student about future plans, but choosing the bathroom as the setting is somewhat odd.

Yet her confusion lasts only a moment, and she treats the question as ordinary teacher‑student conversation, thinking seriously.

"After graduation… I'll probably attend a local university, study a major close to home, and help my father run the Martial Arts Hall in my spare time."

Her voice steadies, returning to her usual quiet, restrained tone.

"The Martial Arts Hall was passed down by the older generation; although few study traditional martial arts now, my father has kept it. I want to help him. No matter how far—"

She pauses, her ice‑blue eyes drooping slightly in the mirror, lashes casting faint shadows on her face, "—I haven't thought much about how far."

"Taking over the Hall. That's fine."

Heimu nods, tosses the used tissue into the trash, rests both hands on the edge of the sink, and watches Hua from the mirror.

Her tone remains casual, but her dark‑purple eyes flash briefly in a direction Hua cannot see, a look of rapid analytical processing.

Taking over the Hall, that wish is too distant.

At Hua's current age, it will be at least several years before she truly takes over the Hall.

Heimu doesn't have the time to linger in this Painted World for years waiting for a girl to grow up.

Moreover, whether such a "long‑term wish" counts as a Task objective is questionable; it's too vague, and the system likely won't recognize it.

She needs to find a wish that can be fulfilled more quickly.

Heimu shifts weight from left foot to right, folds arms across her chest, and nonchalantly continues the conversation.

"What about you lately? Any goals you want to achieve? Not a ten‑year plan, just something you'd like to do now—maybe improve this semester's exam scores, or place in a competition. Or—"

She tilts her head slightly, "—Anything at home you'd like to help with?"

Hua tilts her head slightly.

She's probably wondering "Why is the teacher suddenly asking so many questions about me," but as a diligent student who never refuses a teacher's query, she thinks it over seriously.

Her ash‑blue low ponytail slides down from her shoulder as she tilts her head.

After a brief silence, her voice is a little softer than before, with an added note of worry.

"…Actually, my father's health has been a bit off lately. He caught a chill a while back and has been dragging it without treatment; these past few days it seems to have worsened. This morning he coughed when we left, and I told him I'd accompany him to the clinic after school. He said he'd go, but given his temperament he'll probably find an excuse not to."

After finishing that sentence, she presses her lips together slightly, as if regretting having burdened the teacher with so many personal details.

"So—if I have a recent wish, it's probably that his health recovers quickly."

Heimu taps a finger lightly against her own arm.

Wish capture successful.

This works.

Fully meets the "immediate, concrete, quickly executable" criteria.

It's just a matter of tweaking some health data; although her current permissions are heavily limited by the Painted World's Rule, adjusting an NPC's physical parameters should still be within her capability.

No battling or clearing dungeons needed; she only needs to locate Hua's father and, in the System Panel, change his health status from "Cold lingering" to "Robust and healthy".

It's ten thousand times more reliable than taking over the Martial Arts Hall.

"Be considerate of family."

Heimu lowered the hand he had been holding against his chest, patted Hua's shoulder, the pressure was light, like patting a well‑behaved kitten.

"If your father knew you were still thinking of his cough at school, he'd probably be very pleased. Spend more time with him; that's better than any medicine."

Hua's eyelashes twitched lightly.

Then she lifted her head and glanced at Heimu through the mirror; his ice‑blue eyes still held a trace of lingering pink, but his gaze was no longer the frantic panic she had seen when she fled the classroom.

In its place was a gentle calm that came from being understood.

"Thank you, teacher."

"No need to thank me."

Heimu withdrew his hand from her shoulder, adjusted the school‑badge brooch at his collar, and turned toward the restroom doorway.

After two steps he paused, turned his head, a faint smile tugging at his mouth, and said, "By the way, when you return to your seat—remember to take a deep breath first."

Hua's earlobes flushed red again.

She apparently grasped the unspoken meaning of the teacher's words in an instant.

She lowered her head, rubbed her temples with fingers still wet with droplets, then inhaled deeply, pushed the door open, and walked toward the classroom.

The hallway was quiet; afternoon sunlight slanted in through the windows, casting a grid of golden squares on the floor tiles.

Hua walked slowly, her ash‑blue low ponytail swaying gently behind her shoulders.

In her mind she replayed Heimu's words, "I hope your father's illness improves quickly."

She had never said that to anyone before; when it was suddenly asked today, she felt a bit embarrassed answering, but after speaking it she felt a little lighter inside.

The teacher probably was just offering casual concern for a student, but his perpetually half‑smiling face always made Hua feel as if he truly had a way.