Chapter 205: The Little Aberrant
The woman didn’t seem particularly concerned whether Xu Zhi’s memory loss was real or fake—almost too unconcerned, too accepting.
If their positions were reversed, Xu Zhi would never have brought a half-dead stranger home for no reason. And even if she had, she would certainly test the other person’s “amnesia,” to find out whether it was true or an act.
But this woman’s attitude was… strange.
Still, Xu Zhi couldn’t sense any malice from her. Even when Xu Zhi didn’t immediately answer, the woman simply wrung out a towel with quiet patience, wiped the sweat from Xu Zhi’s forehead, and laid the cool side of the cloth back over her burning skin.
That kind of gentleness—steady, unhurried, real—was almost unsettling in a place like this.
Outside, she could hear the patter of rain on the roof and the dull roar of the industrial zone. Xu Zhi knew that, whatever the woman’s true intentions, she needed shelter right now. And it wasn’t as though she had a choice.
So she rasped, voice dry and faint, “I’ll stay.”
At that, the woman’s expression shifted—somewhere between relief and resignation. She seemed both glad Xu Zhi had agreed to stay, and quietly aware that she’d just taken on a burden that might make her own life harder.
But she didn’t seem to care.
“When the rain eases up, I’ll take you to a clinic,” she said softly. “You still have a fever. Oh—”
As if remembering something, she took out a small object—barely the size of a pinky finger—and held it out to Xu Zhi. “I found this on you when I was cleaning your wounds.”
The moment Xu Zhi felt the aura emanating from that little thing, she forgot her injuries entirely and snatched it up. The sudden movement drained the blood from her face, but she didn’t care.
Because she recognized it.
It was her little aberrant.
Or rather—it had been.
Now it had reverted into something like a seed, as if all its power and essence had been spent, leaving only the faintest trace of life.
The “seed” was a dark metallic gold, smooth and heavy in her palm. Xu Zhi could feel that it was mostly dead—yet within the silence of it, there still lingered one fragile thread of vitality.
Seeing how tightly she clutched it, the woman sighed helplessly. “Don’t move so much. You’ll tear your wounds open again.”
“By the way—do you still remember your name?”
It was a strange question, given that Xu Zhi had already claimed amnesia.
Xu Zhi was once again struck by how little the woman seemed to care whether she was lying or not.
Testing the waters, Xu Zhi said quietly, “I remember. My name is Xu Zhi—‘Zhi’ as in ‘order.’”
The woman nodded. “That’s a good name.”
It was certainly not the kind of name a scavenger from the slums would give a child.
“Do you know how to read?” she asked next.
Xu Zhi hesitated. “Do you have something with writing on it?”
She needed to check—what if the script in this world was different from the Federation’s?
The woman rummaged around and came back with a torn scrap of paper, leftover kindling from when the power had gone out.
Xu Zhi scanned it quickly—and exhaled. The writing was identical to that of the Federation.
That confirmed it even more: the Federation must have been founded by people from this world. Even their language matched perfectly.
“I can read,” Xu Zhi said.
The woman smiled. “That’s great. If you’re literate, you can find easier work.”
Most scavengers couldn’t read at all, and those few who could would never waste effort teaching others—knowledge was a precious form of wealth here. A girl who could read might later get a lighter job with better pay, once she healed.
The woman was already planning ahead for her.
She didn’t seem suspicious of Xu Zhi’s background, either. She’d likely decided that the girl came from a decent family once, and that some misfortune had driven her into the slums. She wouldn’t pry further.
For now, she’d simply treat her as a sister.
The girl needed her—and perhaps, in a quiet way, she needed the girl too.
Xu Zhi murmured a faint “mm,” clutching the seed of the little aberrant tightly in her palm. Her mind wasn’t on the woman’s talk of jobs. Her skull throbbed with pain, but she forced herself to think—how to get the resources she needed, how to repair her body, how to reconnect with her familiars, and how to revive the little aberrant.
But anxiety alone wouldn’t solve anything.
She didn’t yet know if this kind woman could truly be trusted—or what hidden motives she might have. And she still knew almost nothing about this “real” world.
For now, she would have to stay, recover, and learn.
With her plans roughly set, a deep exhaustion washed over her—like the bone-deep fatigue from her earlier illness, the kind that hit after reading just a few more pages. Her body simply couldn’t sustain prolonged wakefulness or focus anymore.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” the woman asked gently.
Xu Zhi hadn’t realized how clearly it showed. She’d barely managed to hide her pain—there was no concealing her weariness.
“Rest a bit,” the woman said. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to see the doctor.”
Under that gentle reassurance, Xu Zhi’s eyelids fluttered shut. She kept the little aberrant’s seed clutched tightly in her hand—and within moments, drifted back into sleep.
Seeing how quickly the girl had succumbed to exhaustion, the woman frowned. Her injuries were likely even worse than she’d thought.
Which meant… her savings might not be enough.
With that in mind, she opened her locked drawer again. Inside were piles of mechanical scraps—cores, bearings, and other intricate components whose purpose she didn’t understand.
It didn’t matter. The more complex the part, the higher the price. Every scavenger knew that rule.
“I’ll sell these tomorrow,” she decided quietly.
But that would leave her with no savings at all.
She didn’t stop to question whether it was “worth it.”
For the first time in years, doing something selfless—helping someone else with all her strength—made her feel strangely light, as though the heavy stone pressing on her chest had finally lifted a little.
She couldn’t explain that feeling. She couldn’t read, didn’t understand such things.
All she knew was that she needed to go early tomorrow to get a clinic token—because even the unlicensed black doctors here had long lines of desperate patients waiting.
