Chapter 187: [Gold Medal Salesperson] Peculiarities
“Mom?” After using the light filtering through the window to clearly see the person before her, Li Yun felt somewhat surprised.
Simultaneously, she let out a breath of relief.
“Why did you come downstairs? You’re in poor health, don’t move around recklessly!”
As Li Yun spoke, she stepped forward to help support her.
In truth, she wasn’t biologically her daughter—her mother was an adoptive parent.
Her adoptive mother had divorced long ago, the reason being that they once had a daughter who committed suicide at the age of sixteen.
The couple had engaged in a bitter, severe argument back then, after which they went their separate ways.
Later on, her adoptive mother paid a visit to an orphanage, adopting her into the family.
Consequently, her adoptive mother was sixty-two years old by now.
At an advanced age, having suffered from a severe illness and undergone surgery, moving around was inherently inconvenient for her.
As Li Yun helped support her slowly up the stairs, a faint sense of peculiar strangeness welled up in her heart.
The person beside her felt extremely cold and heavy.
This was actually quite normal; ever since falling ill, due to mobility difficulties, her mother essentially leaned her entire weight onto her when walking.
So feeling heavy made perfect sense.
Yet today, she felt the person beside her was unnaturally ice-cold.
Most importantly, why was there no sound as she walked?
Her mother walked with such heavy, dragging steps, yet the only footsteps audible belonged to herself.
Once this thought crossed her mind, it became entirely impossible to ignore.
The voice-activated lights flickered on and off. Li Yun grew increasingly attuned to the condition of the person beside her.
Because of her mother’s fragile health, their pace up the stairs was exceptionally slow.
Climbing a single flight took roughly two to three minutes.
They lived on the fifth floor.
This was an extremely old apartment building, and she had lived here for well over twenty years.
Yet for some reason, she felt a profound sense of unfamiliarity.
That feeling was difficult to put into words.
Truth be told, she had experienced a similar sensation when heading to work today as well, but work had been far too busy—so busy it left her zero breathing room to pay mind to her internal feelings.
Thinking back now, from the moment she sat down in the office this morning, everything felt bizarre.
There were two voices within her mind.
Each sounded perfectly reasonable in its own right.
Yet she felt deeply divided, as though she possessed two distinct personalities.
She had mulled over this problem on her way back.
Yet no answers came to her.
And right now, standing beside a mother who was visibly strange, a suspicion bloomed deep in her heart:
Is this world truly identical to what I think it is? Is the mother beside me still my mother? Could I have stepped into a parallel world?
Perhaps something was done to me, which is why two completely different voices exist inside my mind.
Much like that tattoo that had materialized out of nowhere on her wrist—no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recall when she had ever gotten it.
During her lunch break at work this afternoon, she had secretly snapped a photo and searched it online.
That tattoo was a dodder flower.
How strange—who would tattoo a dodder flower on themselves? It wasn’t particularly considered a lovely flower by any means.
The dodder plant possessed the capacity for parasitism, adherence, and strangulation.
It could siphon the nutrient supply from a host for its own use, gradually executing the host in the process.
So it was hard for her not to let her thoughts wander.
Perhaps she herself had been parasitized by someone.
That individual was controlling her thoughts.
Which explained why two distinct sets of thoughts existed within her.
Yet which one was real, and which one was fake?
Was she Li Yun, or someone else?
And what was going on with the mother beside her?
The fifth floor was neither particularly high nor low; amidst her chaotic thoughts, they had arrived right before the doorway.
Li Yun retrieved her key from her bag, unlocking the door.
The old-fashioned security door featured two layers.
The outer layer produced a loud, clanking sound, which sounded exceptionally sharp and grating in today’s unnaturally silent environment.
The voice-activated lights illuminated floor by floor as a result.
The inner door opened inward.
Li Yun inserted the key.
Twisted it, and pushed it open.
She then casually fumbled for the light switch in the entryway, flicking the lights on.
An elderly figure with graying hair stood inside the house, looking as though she had just gotten out of bed.
“Yun-yun, you’re back? Why is it so late?”
Li Yun froze on the spot.
“Mom? You’re here?”
“Yes, I heard noise and got up to check. You hadn’t come back all this time, so I was feeling worried.”
As her mother spoke, she let out a couple of low coughs.
If her mother had been in the bedroom all along and had only just gotten up, who was the person behind her?
Li Yun turned her head around slowly.
Behind her, the hallway was empty.
The voice-activated lights went dark once again.
Li Yun fell into silence.
She casually shut both layers of doors behind her, turning around.
“Mom, I’m fine. I found a job where the shift ends at ten at night, so returning around this hour will likely be the norm from now on. The upside is that I can sleep in a bit at home in the mornings.”
While speaking as if nothing were amiss, she stepped forward to support her mother, intending to lead her back into her bedroom.
She focused on sensing the temperature—her mother’s body was indeed somewhat cold, yet warmth existed beneath her skin, completely different from the sensation earlier.
So what was that just now?
A peculiar sensation welling up in Li Yun’s heart.
It was hard to describe; she ought to have felt terror and dread right now, yet rather than fear, a covert sense of thrill bloomed deep within her.
Had she been influenced by those idiot customers today, giving rise to some world-destroying urge?
She actually didn’t find encountering such a paranormal event terrifying in the slightest.
In fact, her spirits felt somewhat invigorated instead.
Helping her mother into the bedroom, Li Yun said, “Mom, go to sleep. I’ll wash my face and head to bed too.”
Her mother offered a nod.
Those murky eyes remained fixed on her, bearing a gaze filled with something ambiguous and unreadable.
Li Yun appeared entirely oblivious to it.
She stepped out of the room gently, pulling the door shut behind her, heading into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.
While brushing her teeth, her eyes naturally raised to look into the mirror.
Her reflection in the mirror bore shoulder-length, somewhat yellowish hair. Her recent hair loss was rather severe due to immense life stress, leaving her hair part looking sparse and thin.
She looked entirely ordinary, with balanced features—fairly pretty if dressed up.
Yet she felt somewhat unfamiliar.
Li Yun leaned closer to the mirror, examining her own face in meticulous detail.
Double eyelids, eyes set slightly far apart, a bridge that was neither tall nor flat, faint eyebrows, and unremarkable lips.
Was this identical to the self in her memory?
Truth be told, she couldn’t recall clearly; people rarely examined their own faces in meticulous detail before a mirror.
Even when putting on makeup, one wouldn’t hold a precise, drawn-out memory of their own facial features.
A person could easily remember the appearances of others, yet might fail to hold an accurate image regarding their own face.
Li Yun pulled back to her original distance, continuing to brush her teeth while staring at the person in the mirror.
After a long moment, she lowered her head to begin rinsing her mouth.
Yet the person in the mirror did not lower her head.
She remained there, staring straight out at her.
In fact, her eyeballs shifted slightly, casting a glance toward a specific direction, the corners of her lips curling into a faint, sinister smile.
