Under the calm daily life of Jiangcheng University, an undercurrent is surging. My mother picked up an angelic sister, Jiang Xi, from the orphanage. Everyone praised her for being well-behaved and sensible, but I was the only one who saw the diary filled with all the details of my life. The last page was written in red pen: "If my brother does not belong to me, then let him belong to the loess."
She cut off my social circle, drove away the opposite sex around me, and even hid a sharp knife with my fingerprints on it in my bedroom. She enjoyed the pleasure of being in control and looked forward to me breaking down and begging for mercy.
But she miscalculated a bit.
Not only do I not feel fear, I don't even feel anger or sadness.
I am a "blank" in the sealed archives, a defective product whose emotions have been completely wiped out. Faced with her pressing advances, I could only fight back with absolute coldness and precise calculations. We competed in the shadow of Jiangnan University's psychology research group and competed in countless trials. When the emotions that had been dormant for many years showed signs of recovery due to her crazy intervention, a hunt about assimilation and counter-killing had just begun.
