Chapter Seventy-Eight: Shen Yunxi

“If you had a superpower, what would you do with it?”
Seated by the table near the glass window on the second floor, a woman propped her chin with one hand while the other rested on the table. She looked at Lin Heng with curiosity.
To her right was a glass of lemon tea, a straw poking out from the top.

“Me?” Lin Heng replied without hesitation, still poring over the menu, a glass of lemon tea at his own side. “I'd hand it over to the country.”

“As expected, that's just like you, Heng,” she laughed, picking up her lemon tea and sipping noisily through the straw.

After Lin Heng finished studying the menu, he handed it over, indicating his selections.
“Here, take a look—see if there’s anything else you want.”

“It’s fine. Whatever you order is always what I like,” the woman replied with a smile, her eyes squinting with amusement. “It’s all barbecue anyway—I can’t tell the difference.”

She called over a waiter, handed over the menu, and as they waited for their food, Lin Heng recalled her earlier question and was suddenly curious.
“Hey, why did you ask me that just now?”

“You mean about having superpowers?”

“That’s right.”

“Heng, haven’t you kept up with the news lately? There’s a video from Tokyo that went viral two days ago.”

“A video?” Lin Heng shook his head in puzzlement.
“I’ve been busy with work—no time for entertainment.”

She looked at him deeply. “Heng, sometimes I feel like you’re a monk on a lifelong retreat.”

“A monk?” Lin Heng mulled over the comparison, then smiled ruefully. “I’m not that pure.”

“Monks aren’t pure either. Faith is just something stable in this world. The only reason people persist is because belief becomes habit.”

“Isn’t being a doctor a profession that requires faith?” Lin Heng asked, looking at her.

She turned her gaze to the window, her smile tinged with complexity.
“Faith is just the background color. To stay in this profession, you need lasting responsibility—and self-interest. Take the symbols of medicine, for example. The single-serpent rod stands for pure ideals—the Hippocratic Oath. But now the double-serpent caduceus, originally a symbol of commerce, has found its way into medicine too, becoming part of its meaning. That’s the change—or progress—of the times.”

Though her words were not hard to grasp, they were colored by personal sentiment. Lin Heng fell silent and did not answer immediately.

The woman was in the final year of her eight-year medical program, soon to receive her doctorate, and already working as a resident at the Third Hospital of Qingxia City. Next would be the intermediate physician exams and the selection for attending physician within the top-tier hospital. Lin Heng had heard about the academic and professional pressure she faced, but having joined a provincial department in Qingxia early on, he doubted anything he said could truly resonate with her experience. So, he simply reached out and gripped her right hand—resting on the table—tightly.

“Xi Xi.”

The woman, Shen Yunxi—just a year older than Lin Heng—broke into a bright, elegant smile. She let go of her chin and wrapped both hands firmly around Lin Heng’s larger, stronger hand.

“Ah, Heng is worried about me—so warm, so warm.”
She lowered her head, feigning to press her cheek to his hand. But at that moment, the waiter’s barely-stifled laughter interrupted them.

“Excuse me, um, your ingredients are all sliced—shall I start grilling now?”

Lin Heng hastily drew his hand back, his face flushing red from cheek to ear, but Shen Yunxi was unfazed. She lifted her head with composure, as if nothing had happened, and said graciously,
“Yes, please grill them for us.”

“Right away.”
The waiter carefully laid the thin slices of beef onto the grill, then bustled off to help other tables. While they waited for the meat to cook, Lin Heng recalled Shen Yunxi’s earlier words and cleared his throat.

“Xi Xi, that video you mentioned—what was it?”

“Here, let me show you.”
Shen Yunxi pulled out her phone, opened a saved video, tapped play, and placed it before Lin Heng.

On screen, a meteor streaked down in vivid clarity, a sea of blood surged, people were subsumed into it, and agonized screams filled the air. Lin Heng’s previously relaxed expression tightened as he watched.

“Is this… real?”

“How could it be?”
Once the video finished, Shen Yunxi retrieved her phone with an easy smile.
“Supposedly, it’s just a CG video. The Japanese embassy has already debunked it, saying it was filmed in a temporary studio in Tokyo. It just so happened that there was an attack that day, so people believed it. Now Tokyo TV has admitted it’s a set from a new drama they’re producing. As soon as the news broke, the yet-to-air series became the most anticipated show online—Netflix’s anticipation ratings shot through the roof.”

Relieved to hear it was fake, Lin Heng visibly relaxed and nodded.

“But…”
Shen Yunxi’s shift in tone made Lin Heng tense up again.

“But what?”

“—But some tech experts have analyzed it and say the visuals aren’t achievable with current CG techniques. And they say the area in the video—Meomachi—has now been completely sealed off by the Japanese authorities. Not even a mosquito can get in. So, there are plenty who think it might actually be real.”

The first batch of beef was done. Shen Yunxi smiled as she divided the slices between their plates. Lin Heng, in turn, picked up the utensils, cut more raw meat, and laid it on the grill. They worked in quiet, practiced harmony.

He picked up a freshly grilled slice, ate it plain without any sauce, but was clearly distracted; he didn’t savor the flavor at all. The images from the video replayed in his mind, his brow deeply furrowed.

—So, you’re saying there’s a chance that video was real?

“Maybe… That’s why I asked what you’d do if you gained superpowers.”

Seeing Lin Heng so thoroughly absorbed by the idea, Shen Yunxi couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s highly unlikely. In thousands of years, humanity’s never seen a real superhuman. Not even during the carnage of World War II did any shamans or witches make a difference on the battlefield. If anything, the theory that the U.S. conducted secret experiments in Meomachi is much more plausible. Don’t look so grim—you’re not responsible for the whole world. Even if, by some miracle, a world-destroying superhuman appeared, would you really fight them? You’re just a minor civil servant; don’t take the world’s burdens on your shoulders.”

(End of chapter)