Chapter 11

Zhen Ai sipped her water, occasionally glancing at him, but he seemed lost in thought, staring into space.

At this point, he should have a clear understanding of everything.

It wasn't until he slowly finished the entire cup of water that she asked, "Do you… already know who the murderer is?"

He nonchalantly replied with a "Hmm."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"How did the murderer leave the scene?" Yan Su clasped his hands against his lips, his sharp gaze fixed on the void.

Zhen Ai found this question puzzling. Logically, if the murderer planned to drown someone, how did they manage to avoid splattering blood, or if they did get blood on themselves, how did they leave safely?

Yan Su tilted his head, looking up at the high stained glass windows of the library.

The endless night outside made the colorful patterns on the glass stand out vividly. Suddenly, he said, "It reminds me of the fairy tales I heard as a child, where good and evil were always clearly defined and very simple."

"You read fairy tales as a child?"

Yan Su gave her a look that said, "That's not the point," and after a pause, explained, "My mother was a remarkable woman. I escaped her daily fairy tale torture only after I gained mobility. By the age of two, I preferred listening to famous speeches over her stories."

"Two years old?"

Yan Su's expression conveyed, "How can you not grasp the main point?" and he stiffly added, "Sorry, I was quite precocious."

"Already figured that out."

"…"

Zhen Ai pictured a scene in her mind: a young mother gently narrating a fairy tale while a baby in a crib flailed about, rolling everywhere.

She couldn't help but smile.

Yan Su's elegant face paled slightly: "Stop your boring thoughts right now!"

Zhen Ai suppressed her smile, feeling dissatisfied: "Do you have mind-reading abilities or something?"

Yan Su replied coldly, "Do I look like a gypsy? You're quite passionate about this unscientific stuff."

Zhen Ai countered, "Just saying 'no' is enough."

Yan Su turned his head away, disapprovingly murmuring, "Believing in the supernatural after reading too many fairy tales."

Zhen Ai replied, "Thanks! No one told me fairy tales growing up; I've only heard two."

Yan Su turned back, glanced at her, and seeing she wasn't lying, slowly said, "That's unscientific."

How could someone grow up without hearing a hundred fairy tales? What were Andersen, the Brothers Grimm, and so many others even for?

Zhen Ai shrugged: "Really. The first story my mom told me was *The Adventures of the Candy House*, a pretty scary story."

Yan Su looked puzzled: "You mean *Hansel and Gretel*?"

"Yeah," Zhen Ai nodded, her face slightly pale. "It's about a brother and sister abandoned by their parents who find a candy house in the forest. The river flows with milk, the stones are candy, the fence is made of cookies, the walls are cake, the chimney is chocolate, and the roof is made of meat…"

His brows lifted cautiously, as if trying to comprehend: "So… this is a horror story?"

Undoubtedly, he really didn't understand what was going on in women's minds.

Zhen Ai blushed and softly explained, "The witch in the candy house used all of this to lure Hansel and fatten him up to eat him."

His expression changed as if struck by insight, and he nodded slowly, "Yeah, that's really scary."

Zhen Ai: ...

Suddenly, she really wanted to use him as a test subject!

Seeing her look down and fall silent, with her face slightly pale and her hands clenched, he felt puzzled and pondered for a moment before a thought struck him.

Could it be that the reason fairy tales became nightmares is because of empathy?

"You don't have an older brother, do you?" he asked casually. Zhen Ai's dark lashes trembled, and she wanted to deny it, but considering his keen observational skills, lying would be futile, so she opted for silence.

Yan Su watched her expression and knew he was right.

Then he delved deeper.

"And also…" he was about to say something when the remaining words stuck in his throat.

...

Could it be… someone died? Died a painful death, perhaps even a terrible one. Thinking this way, her family might have been part of some organization, and only she escaped.

To her, wasn't that place just an evil candy house?

Yan Su's words fell silent mid-sentence.

Zhen Ai stared at the glass cup in her hand, unsure how much time had passed, before suddenly looking up and asking, "Did you figure anything out from the password I gave you last time?"

"Didn't look at it," Yan Su replied frankly. "Though I'm interested in all the passwords in the world, I won't let my skills become a tool for others. This isn't aimed at you, but clearly, that password wasn't given to you by someone else; you wrote it yourself."

He paused, then continued, "If someone threatens or harasses you, I'll help you handle it; but if it's just your hobby or a private transaction, I'm under no obligation to indulge you."

Zhen Ai didn't find it offensive; in fact, she found it somewhat amusing.

Anything related to puzzles naturally attracted him. Having that string of passwords in front of him without looking must have been quite uncomfortable. If someone wanted to use the password for something nefarious, he certainly couldn't just satisfy his own interests and desires by solving it.

She smiled: "Maybe once I think it through, I'll tell you its origin and then ask for your help."

Yan Su looked at her, suddenly realizing that she seemed more carefree and open-minded than he had imagined. He could almost picture her challenging upbringing and terrifying experiences that belonged in a spy thriller, but she, though calm and composed, didn't appear cold or bitter. She didn't seem gloomy or envious.

Such a person made him want to...

Research.

He asked, "What about the other fairy tale? Didn't you say you heard two?"

"Oh," she smiled, clearly happier with this fairy tale, "It's the story of Archimedes."

Yan Su: "... I didn't know Archimedes wrote fairy tales."

"It's not written by him; it's a story featuring him as the main character." At that moment, her dark eyes sparkled.

"He was very confident, saying, 'Give me a lever, and I can move the Earth.' The power of one person can change the world—how grand and inspiring is that? And later, when the Roman soldiers broke into the city to kill him, he crouched on the ground, writing and drawing, carelessly saying…"

"'Let me finish writing this equation first.'"

"'Let me finish writing this equation first.'"

They spoke in unison, and Yan Su couldn't help but say this line as well. After saying it, he took a deep breath, his expression serious: "Yes, at any time, science and knowledge should never bow down to politics and force. Scholars especially should not submit to power."

Zhen Ai paused slightly, lowering her gaze with a faint smile: "That's the most beautiful fairy tale I've ever heard."

Seeing the satisfied smile on her lips stirred something in Yan Su. He got up and went to a corner of the bottom shelf, bringing back a pile of books and placing them neatly on the piano lid, saying earnestly:

"Seeing you so pitiful, treating Archimedes like a fairy tale, let me give you some extra lessons."

Zhen Ai looked at him curiously.

Yan Su picked up a book and quickly got into storytelling mode:

"Once upon a time, there was a princess who was very foolish. She ate a witch's poisoned apple, died, and was revived by a prince's kiss." He frowned unhappily, clearly unable to continue, "Who wrote such an illogical story? Let's try another!"

He tossed *Snow White* aside and reached for another book.

"There was a girl living in an attic as a servant; she danced with a prince and then married him…"

Zhen Ai felt no sense of happiness from the fairy tale but watched him cautiously. As expected, a flicker of confusion crossed his light brown eyes. "What on earth is this nonsense about?"

He switched to another book.

"There was a mermaid who traded her voice for a pair of legs, wanting to be with a prince, but the prince married someone else, and then she died."

"…"

"A tragedy?" Yan Su expressed his dissatisfaction, regretting that he hadn't told Zhen Ai a better story. So he said, "Let's switch to an animal story instead."

"There was a little duckling; he was ugly and sad, but in the end, he turned into a beautiful white goose."

"…"

After a moment of strange silence, Yan Su shook his head and silently laughed: 

"Indeed, Archimedes is the fairy tale."

He slightly raised his head, letting his gaze wander along the rows of silent books, unsure where it would stop. The soft light reflected in his eyes, shimmering, as he said:

"There's no doubt, this is the best fairy tale I've ever heard."

This acknowledgment warmed Zhen Ai's heart.

She took a deep breath, quietly shifting her gaze.

She noticed a row of photographs and thought for a moment: "Owen mentioned that you figured out that the password was a death threat, but you still haven't told me. Earlier, you said it wasn't a threat, so what's going on?"

Yan Su casually grabbed a piece of paper and began to draw on it.

Zhen Ai leaned closer and saw he was sketching Morse code. Just as she was about to ask, her gaze lifted and landed on his delicate face. Leaning in so close earlier, she caught a whiff of his fresh scent, like a morning forest.

Her heart raced, and she carefully leaned back a little, asking, "Do you remember the marks on the paper? Do you have a photographic memory?"

"A person's mind is like a library," he explained without looking up, his hands continuing to move. 

"Human senses are like books. If they're all piled up haphazardly like trash, many pieces of information will be obscured, and you'll only see the surface. But if they're categorized and organized, anytime you want to find something, you can quickly retrieve it with an index. For instance, with this password, I've tagged it with keywords: 'Zhen Ai,' 'Morse,' 'recopy,' 'trivial,' and then…"

He noticed the surrounding silence, even the sound of her breath was held. 

He blinked his light brown eyes but didn't look up, his fingers pausing slightly. He didn't need to think to know what her expression must be—eyes wide with disbelief, just like when he first met her and mentioned that human hands secrete oil. She would definitely say, "You could just answer 'yes.'"

He immediately stopped, continuing to write the password, and after a while, he said woodenly, "Yes, I have a photographic memory." He paused for a moment, then added:

"Also what I hear…

What I smell…

What I taste…

And what I feel…

Of course, there are also the feelings in my heart."

After speaking, he silently frowned at himself, wondering why he said so much.

But in truth, Zhen Ai didn't find him odd or rigid like the first time they met; instead, she found him quite endearing. She unconsciously imagined his inscrutable mind as a tall library, books reaching up to the clouds. Inside his head lived a little person diligently organizing his memories.

Suddenly, a thought brushed through her mind like a gentle breeze rippling across a lake, indescribable, fleeting:

"Then, many years from now, you won't forget me, right?"

His left hand, holding the pen, paused. He lowered his head, his dark lashes casting shadows over his eyes, and calmly replied, "I won't forget… but I probably won't remember either."

Everything he had seen wasn't a matter of forgetting; it depended entirely on whether he was willing to recall and search his memories.

If they were to become strangers in the future, of course, he wouldn't remember.

Zhen Ai's heart was as calm as ever, a smile playing at her lips: what a straightforward guy, even in his speech!