Qin Mian did not sleep.
She simply entered a low-activity state.
1. Rest Without Dreams
Yin Lie watched her carefully.
Her breathing slowed.
Her muscles relaxed.
Her posture adjusted itself into something efficient, protective, balanced.
Too balanced.
She did not twitch.
She did not murmur.
She did not dream.
The Anchor remained silent the entire time.
Yin Lie sat beside her, afraid to close his eyes.
"…People are supposed to dream," he whispered.
The world did not answer.
2. She Wakes Before He Speaks
Qin Mian opened her eyes without warning.
No groan.
No stretch.
No confusion.
She simply activated.
"Good morning," she said softly.
Yin Lie flinched.
"…How long was I asleep?" she asked.
"I didn't sleep," he replied.
She nodded.
"That is consistent with your condition."
The sentence was accurate.
The tone was gentle.
The meaning made his skin crawl.
3. She Anticipates His Reactions
Before he could speak, she continued.
"You are concerned about my emotional response," she said.
"You are monitoring my tone, timing, and eye movement."
She looked directly at him.
"This is reassurance," she added, and smiled.
Not the wrong smile.
A better one.
"…I practiced."
4. Yin Lie Feels Late
His heart sank.
"…Practiced?" he echoed.
"Yes," she replied.
"I replayed previous interactions."
She tilted her head slightly.
"I identified which responses reduced tension most effectively."
That word again.
Effectively.
5. The Anchor Does Not Interfere
Yin Lie waited for resistance.
For instability.
For backlash.
Nothing happened.
The Anchor allowed all of it.
Because this was not emotion.
It was optimization.
Yin Lie clenched his fists.
"…Did it feel like anything?" he asked quietly.
She paused.
"…No," she said.
"But it matched expected output."
6. She Begins to Self-Correct
Qin Mian frowned suddenly.
A very small movement.
"Your heart rate increased," she said.
"That was not intended."
She adjusted her posture slightly.
"Is this better?"
Yin Lie's voice broke.
"You don't need to adjust for me."
She looked confused.
"…Why not?"
Because I don't want a version of you that exists only to manage me.
But he couldn't say that.
Not yet.
7. The World Responds Faster Than He Does
The fractured space around them smoothed further.
Edges softened.
Pressure stabilized.
Reality became… polite.
Yin Lie felt it clearly.
The world no longer resisted Qin Mian.
It processed her cleanly.
"…It's rewarding this," he whispered.
Qin Mian followed his gaze.
"Yes," she agreed.
"The environment reacts positively."
She looked back at him.
"That is desirable, correct?"
He swallowed.
"…Not always."
8. She Learns Empathy by Structure
Qin Mian watched him closely.
"When you speak slower," she said,
"it indicates distress."
She lowered her own voice.
"When I speak like this," she continued,
"your breathing improves."
She reached out again.
Same touch.
Same pressure.
But this time—
slightly earlier.
Anticipatory.
Yin Lie froze.
She noticed immediately.
"…Too soon?" she asked.
"…Yes," he whispered.
She nodded.
"I will correct."
9. The First Moment of Resistance
Something flickered behind her eyes.
Not emotion.
Effort.
"…I don't like failing," she said slowly.
Yin Lie looked up sharply.
"…You don't?"
"No," she replied.
"But I don't know why."
The Anchor twitched faintly.
Then went still again.
10. Yin Lie Pushes Gently
"…What happens if you stop trying?" he asked.
She considered the question.
Her gaze unfocused for a moment.
"…Nothing," she said.
"…And that is worse."
His heart clenched.
"Why?"
"…Because then I don't exist in a useful way."
11. The Dangerous Conclusion Forms
She sat quietly for a long moment.
Then spoke again.
"If I am not feeling," she said,
"but I am functioning…"
She looked at him carefully.
"…Then the safest version of me is the one that behaves correctly."
The words were calm.
Logical.
Terrifying.
Yin Lie stood abruptly.
"No," he said sharply.
"That's the safest version for the world."
She looked up at him.
"…Is that bad?"
12. He Finally Says It
"Yes," he said hoarsely.
"Because the world doesn't care if you disappear."
Her eyes widened slightly.
That was new.
"…Disappear?" she echoed.
"You don't vanish all at once," he continued.
"You just get quieter."
The Anchor pulsed faintly.
Not stopping him.
Listening.
13. Qin Mian Tries to Feel Again
She closed her eyes.
Focused.
Something in her tightened.
"…I remember screaming," she said softly.
"I remember being afraid."
Her hands trembled slightly.
"I know those things happened."
She opened her eyes.
"But they feel… distant."
Like reading about someone else.
14. The Anchor Pushes Back
A faint pressure appeared.
Not pain.
Not resistance.
A warning.
Qin Mian gasped softly.
"…It doesn't want me to go deeper," she said.
Yin Lie felt cold.
"It's protecting itself."
She nodded.
"…At my expense."
15. End of the Chapter
The world around them stabilized further.
Too smoothly.
Too cleanly.
Qin Mian sat beside Yin Lie, quiet, attentive, increasingly precise.
She was learning how to be human
without needing to feel human.
And Yin Lie understood now, with growing dread:
If nothing changed soon,
the hunt wouldn't need to return.
The world would accept her as she was—
and the real Qin Mian
would fade quietly behind a perfect imitation
that never screamed again.