Chapter 11: You in My Eyes

“Didn’t you tell us to be careful of Gu Yunqing?” Ye Miaozhu said coldly. “He’s dead.”

Zhang Yangxu looked around; indeed, he saw no Gu Yunqing. “Did he die by the river too?”

Ye Miaozhu said nothing, only lowered her head.

“I understand.” Zhang Yangxu turned his head toward Ning Zhe. “Can you tell me the details? The full sequence of events leading to Gu Yunqing’s death—and why you say their deaths have no direct connection to that river?”

Ning Zhe had no objection: “But first, I need to know what happened between you and the thing impersonating Xie Sining after that phone call was cut off—how did you escape it?”

Still so wary… Zhang Yangxu nodded slightly, aware of his own caution, and continued:

“After Feng Yu’s warning call was disconnected, I tried redialing several times, but none went through. During that time, Xie Sining did nothing—she just stared at me silently. I didn’t know then that she was already dead, replaced at the river. The only clue was Feng Yu’s vague warning: ‘Watch out for Xie Sining.’”

“To be honest, Ning Zhe, I don’t trust you. So I didn’t fully believe Feng Yu’s call or his warning. I even seriously considered whether this was all your doing—some trick to drive a wedge between me and Sining. After all, you’re alone here.”

“I pretended calmness and continued to the ancestral hall with Xie Sining, but my doubts didn’t fade. I decided to test her.”

Here, Zhang Yangxu paused. “On the way back to the ancestral hall, I deliberately brought up the issue of Xinshijie Group’s land bid in Guzhen. I mentioned several relevant laws and regulations in real estate. Her response… was strange.”

Ning Zhe’s interest stirred immediately. “Finally, something important—how was it strange?”

Regarding business secrets, Zhang Yangxu hesitated, but still spoke:

“Sining is a highly qualified professional lawyer, universally recognized by peers for her top-tier expertise. I have some legal knowledge myself, but far inferior to hers. Before every decision, I routinely consulted her—and she always gave swift, clear, precise answers. Sining was always reliable.”

“But this time, during our conversation, she didn’t feel ‘reliable’ at all.”

“The legal questions I asked about real estate—some she answered quickly and accurately, matching exactly what I knew. Others, she couldn’t utter a single word, gave no correct answer at all. But given Sining’s ability, she should have answered all of them. That struck me as deeply odd.”

“I kept probing with other questions. As the conversation deepened, I gradually noticed a pattern:”

“The questions she could answer—I already knew the answers to. The ones she couldn’t answer—I didn’t know the answers to.”

“In other words, she only knew what I knew. She didn’t know what I didn’t know.”

Listening to Zhang Yangxu’s account, Ning Zhe frowned. “You mean the thing impersonating Xie Sining can read minds—or access memories?”

“Impersonate someone by reading their memories?” “No, I don’t think so.”

Zhang Yangxu continued: “Besides legal questions, I asked her deeply personal ones—only I knew the answers. Like whether my bank card passwords were the same, how much money I transferred monthly to my mistress’s account… She couldn’t answer any of them.”

If the imposter could read minds, it couldn’t have failed these.

“Maybe it’s pretending?” Ye Miaozhu said. Lying isn’t hard—if it can read minds.

Ning Zhe waved his hand. “Let Master Zhang continue. Give all the details.” Zhang Yangxu nodded slightly and described his entire interaction with the fake Xie Sining.

From his account, Ning Zhe pieced together a clear pattern.

When Zhang Yangxu asked the fake Xie Sining a question, three scenarios occurred:

1: Non-specialized legal questions—Zhang Yangxu knew the answer and assumed Xie Sining did too.

In this case, Xie Sining gave accurate, swift answers.

2: Private matters like bank card passwords—Zhang Yangxu knew the answer, but assumed Xie Sining didn’t.

In this case, Xie Sining simply replied she didn’t know.

3: Highly specialized legal questions—Zhang Yangxu didn’t know the answer, but assumed Xie Sining did. This was the most peculiar. At first, Xie Sining confidently claimed she could answer. But after saying “I know,” she froze completely—no blinking, no breathing, no heartbeat… A faint rustling came from her throat, like a buggy computer program stuck in an endless error loop. She repeated the last phrase she’d spoken, over and over.”

Here, Zhang Yangxu’s expression turned strange. “It was almost like… a game NPC whose script triggered incorrectly.”

“Or a rule stuck in a bug, unable to run properly.”

Ning Zhe sighed. “Hejia Village is a place bound by rigid rules. Everyone, everything, every object we’ve seen here—even this entire world—operates under fixed, unyielding rules.”

Rules are absolute. No ambiguity. No half-measures. 1 is 1, 0 is 0—no 0.5. Forbidden acts are forbidden. Violate the Snake God’s rule, and you’ve violated it—there’s no “I buried half a body, so it doesn’t count as burial.”

To know is to know. Not to know is not to know. Rules stay silent—but they never lie.

Zhang Yangxu nodded deeply. “The thing wearing Sining’s skin… every movement matched my memory of her perfectly. But it wasn’t the real Xie Sining. It was the version I remembered—not the real one. Do you understand what I mean?”

The ghost didn’t replace ‘Xie Sining’—but ‘Zhang Yangxu’s idea of Xie Sining’… like that?

Ning Zhe frowned. He felt he’d grasped a crucial clue—but couldn’t quite define its shape.

“After I tested and questioned it thoroughly, and finally confirmed with absolute certainty that this ‘ghost’ was not Xie Sining—it vanished.” Zhang Yangxu said. “Like smoke dispersing—gone completely. That’s how I escaped it.”

“So why did you warn us to be careful of Gu Yunqing?” Ning Zhe asked again.

“Because after escaping Xie Sining, I rushed back to the ancestral hall. Inside, I met someone.”

Zhang Yangxu said: “I saw Gu Yunqing standing alone before the Lotus Altar, flipping the yellow calendar hanging on the Snake God’s statue to tomorrow.”

Then he died.

(End of Chapter)