Ms. Xue was still very lucid. She propped herself up with her hand, sat up straight, and her eyes circled around The Vault's face. With drooping brows and eyes, she asked, “Who committed the murder?”

　　She asked so bluntly that it caught The Vault off guard. She had expected Ms. Xue to say something like “It’s a misunderstanding” or “Impossible” to vent her emotions.

　　The corners of Ms. Xue’s eyes drooped, making her whole face look especially sorrowful, yet her eyes were brighter than ever. She looked straight at The Vault and said hoarsely, “Go ahead, I know. When you came to see me last time, I knew—you wouldn’t have come if nothing was wrong.”

　　The Vault thought for a moment, met her gaze, and said, “It was either Leonard Campbell or Zachary Campbell. Leonard Campbell confessed, and Zachary Campbell has disappeared.”

　　The wrinkles on Ms. Xue’s face deepened with her expression. She murmured, “Leonard wouldn’t kill anyone. He seems dull, but he’s actually very gentle. The good things he’s done were out of kindness. Back then, when he wanted to take you back, it was also out of kindness. He truly cares for his students, otherwise so many people wouldn’t respect him. He would have slipped up eventually, don’t you think?”

　　The Vault didn’t know what role Leonard Campbell played in all this. But the information Zachary Campbell used to select his targets definitely came from Leonard Campbell’s extensive connections. There were several people Zachary Campbell only got in touch with through Leonard Campbell.

　　Leonard Campbell might have been an accomplice, or maybe he was powerless to stop it, or perhaps he truly didn’t know—none of that mattered anymore. Things had developed to this point, and he was inevitably involved.

　　He was so smart, there’s no way he was completely oblivious.

　　As Ms. Xue recalled, her fingers began to twitch more violently. She gripped the blanket tightly and said in a trembling voice, “Actually, it’s my fault. My poor health was inherited by him, which made Evan suffer along with me. I feel very guilty toward him, so I tried my best to make it up to him. Leonard thought this was wrong, and we had major disagreements in our educational philosophies.”

　　The Vault softened her tone and asked, “Is that why you divorced?”

　　“More or less.” Ms. Xue closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring. “When Evan was a teenager, he was very unstable. He would lie… frame others, and he was very convincing. But every time he lied, Leonard would expose him. Leonard is a psychology expert, and he thought this behavior was very serious, making a big deal out of it. I hated how he treated everything as an academic subject, as if he had no feelings at all, not like he was dealing with his own son.”

　　The Vault was silent.

　　“I thought Evan would grow out of it. What kid hasn’t lied? But then I got sick and couldn’t control him at all. I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, so I could only believe every word he said. He grew up to be perfect—successful in his career, elegant and charming.” Ms. Xue gave a bitter smile. “‘Steal a needle as a child, steal gold as an adult’—all parents dismiss it, but it really can happen. Many mistakes come from parental indulgence, don’t they? I spoiled him too much. If I had agreed to let Leonard discipline him back then, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

　　The Vault listened to her deep remorse, not understanding why she chose to confide in her.

　　“Do you know what he did?”

　　Ms. Xue shook her head.

　　“I can’t tell when he’s lying, but I still noticed when he secretly sent texts or made calls. Sometimes he’d have a girl’s perfume on him, but he always denied it.”

　　This was probably a mother’s intuition—sometimes, they’re even sharper than detectives.

　　“Leonard was always very rational, I know. I used to think Evan was the same. But later I realized he was different. He wanted to be like his father, so he acted calm in public.”

　　The Vault frowned. “What are you really trying to say?”

　　“Quinn Foster told me some things. He said that person was targeting you, wanted to lead you into becoming a criminal, wanted to ruin many people’s lives… I—I don’t know if Evan could do such things, but there are some things I feel I should tell you. Otherwise, maybe no one will ever know.”

　　Ms. Xue finally got to this point, but found it hard to speak. She couldn’t help but avoid The Vault’s gaze, thought for a moment, then looked up again.

　　She could have faced death calmly, but at the very end of her life, something happened that caught her completely off guard.

　　She bore some responsibility for this, and couldn’t just pretend she didn’t know.

　　“I remember, when Evan first met your mother, he often mentioned her name in front of me, even brought her over to meet me. She really was a beautiful and well-behaved girl. He never said it, but I could tell he liked Little Quinn.”

　　When The Vault heard this name, the veins on her forehead began to throb uncontrollably.

　　Ms. Xue continued in a whisper, “He never used to like sweets, but because Little Quinn liked them, he started to as well. It was the first time he so obviously liked someone. I worried about him, because it wasn’t easy for him to get married. But in the end, Little Quinn didn’t like him at all.”

　　“During that time, I could see he was very repressed. He thought there was something wrong with himself, but your father had problems too, and besides, Little Quinn didn’t even know he was ill. At that time, your father had lost his sight and was irritable and quick-tempered. While adjusting to his blindness, he almost hit someone. But Little Quinn still liked him—was willing to care for him, get close to him. Evan was miserable, not understanding why he couldn’t measure up. I’d never seen him so out of control.”

　　The Vault listened quietly, a turbulent emotion stirring inside her. Her palm clenched tightly, hidden in her sleeve.

　　“After your father died, Evan cared a lot about your mother. He was so proactive, I thought he might have a chance.” Ms. Xue lowered her eyes, her voice very soft. “The day your mother died, Evan came back from outside, still carrying the scent of baby formula. I asked if he’d gone to see Little Quinn. He said no, he’d been at the office all day. I didn’t think much of it. Then the next day, I heard about Little Quinn’s suicide.”

　　The Vault shuddered all over, her mind buzzing as if a giant bell was ringing inside her head.

　　She felt the air begin to solidify, the oxygen thinning, making it hard to breathe, her limbs so weak she could barely stand.

　　She had spent years coming to terms with Kevin Quinn’s suicide. But if that wasn’t the truth, how was she supposed to feel?

　　She couldn’t hear her own voice, but it was probably not very polite.

　　“Then how did my father die? Was he killed?”

　　“That really had nothing to do with him.” Ms. Xue grew anxious, her chest heaving. “At that time, Little Quinn was about to give birth. She went out to buy things you needed, and your father went to pick her up. He couldn’t see, and when he heard the crosswalk countdown end, he started to cross. But a driver ran the red light. Little Quinn saw it from across the street and shouted at him. He heard her and stopped in the middle, but the driver swerved… and hit him head-on.”

　　The Vault opened her mouth, only to find she couldn’t make a sound. Her throat felt as if it were being strangled, and she was completely dazed. She blinked, her eyes dry and aching.

　　Ms. Xue’s words became indistinct in her ears.

　　“She never told you? Your mother loved you very much, she just couldn’t accept…”

Chapter 121: The Subject

　　The Vault no longer remembered how she left the hospital. When she came to her senses, she saw Julian Grant waving anxiously in front of her.

　　“What are you thinking about?” Julian Grant snapped his fingers by her ear. “You’ve been acting strange since you got back. What’s wrong? Should I find a Taoist priest to call your soul back?”

　　The Vault parted her lips, and with a tone full of determination, she enunciated each word: “Prosperity, democracy, civility…”

　　Julian Grant was nearly blinded by her socialist radiance and surrendered, “Alright, alright, The Vault—teacher, I’m willing to dedicate myself to science for you. I know the rest, you don’t have to recite it.”

　　He sat down next to The Vault, asking casually, “Who did you go see today?”

　　When Julian Grant woke up, The Vault was already gone. She didn’t answer calls or texts, and when she finally showed up, she looked completely lost.

　　Julian Grant just couldn’t figure it out—why did The Vault always end up in such a mess when he wasn’t around?

　　When he asked, The Vault wanted to answer, but her language system seemed to malfunction. She couldn’t organize either the truth or a lie. She pressed her lips together, looking displeased, and before she could think of a response, she felt a warmth on her hand—Julian Grant covered the back of her hand, gently unfolding her tightly clenched fingers.

　　As her fingers relaxed on her lap, The Vault felt the oppressive gloom swirling around her lighten considerably. Only then did she realize her muscles had been tense the whole time.

　　The Vault looked up at Julian Grant’s gentle gaze and slowly said, “Today, Ms. Xue told me that Kevin Quinn might not have committed suicide.”

　　So many years had passed, and The Vault thought her emotions had faded, that she could analyze everything rationally, arrange all the logic in a fixed order.

　　But she couldn’t.