The storage compartment beneath the books contained some toy aircraft and toy cars, as well as colored pens, sketchbooks, comic books, scissors, needles, thread, fabric scraps, and small plastic bowls and dishes.
The toys were all quite old, with a noticeably rough texture.
The aircraft was covered in cracks and tightly wrapped with tape in several places.
The desk came with drawers.
Xu Dengming opened them to check and found three notebooks and a stationery box, along with a white plastic container.
Among the three notebooks, one was blank, another was filled with random scribbles, and the last one was a diary.
Xu Dengming knew that, following the usual tropes of games, the diary would likely contain key information for the player to progress.
She pulled out the chair and sat down, starting to read from the beginning.
The title page of the diary read, “The Diary of the Smartest and Most Amazing Kid-Guo Jiajia.”
Guo Jiajia had a high opinion of herself, and Xu Dengming hoped that the following entries would be equally expressive.
Xu Dengming continued flipping through the pages and soon reached the main content—
“January 1st”
“Today I got a diary.”
“I will keep a good diary.”
“January 2nd”
“Grandma is sleeping, Dad went to work, Mom went grocery shopping.”
“I’m writing in my diary.”
“January 3rd”
“Grandma is sleeping, Dad went to work, Mom went grocery shopping.”
“I’m writing in my diary.”
“January 4th”
“Same as yesterday, nothing worth recording.”
“January 5th”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“June 20th”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“July 17th”
“Nothing worth recording.”
Xu Dengming read for a while, her expression gradually becoming subtly complex.
At first, she read page by page, but after February, she started flipping through quickly, soon confirming that most of the diary entries were the same: “Nothing worth recording.”
Guo Jiajia’s recording style was very characteristic of a child.
After just a few days, her initial enthusiasm visibly waned.
Although each day’s entry still took up a full page, it was hard to extract any meaningful content, forming a stark contrast with her opening declaration, “I will keep a good diary.”
Xu Dengming pressed her temple and flipped back to February, patiently reading through each page.
By mid-March, Xu Dengming noticed that some pages were stuck together.
She carefully peeled them apart and found an entry that was different from the others—
“March 14th”
“Her leg was swollen.”
“I cut her open, took out the extra cotton, healed her, and sewed her back up.”
Even without formal training in treating injuries, Xu Dengming knew that cutting someone open and sewing them back up were not normal methods of treatment for humans.
Xu Dengming naturally recalled the ragdoll she had seen before officially starting the game.
The cotton inside the doll’s body was unevenly distributed, so Guo Jiajia had cut open the doll’s leg, removed the excess cotton, and then sewed it back up.
Xu Dengming had seen scissors and needles in the cabinet, and she guessed that modifying her doll was one of Guo Jiajia’s forms of entertainment.
She didn’t know much about child psychology and wasn’t sure if this was a common behavior.
Xu Dengming continued flipping through the diary.
For little Guo Jiajia, life in April was noticeably different from March.
“April 2nd”
“Dad was very angry. He scolded me, scolded Mom, and kept scolding Grandma.”
“The aircraft was smashed by Dad.”
“April 3rd”
“Dad said he was sorry and promised to fix the aircraft.”
“The aircraft is wrapped with a lot of tape. Is this considered fixed?
“I don’t think so.”
“April 4th”
“Nothing worth recording.
“I can learn to repair the aircraft myself.”
“April 5th”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“April 6th”
“Nothing worth recording.”
The April diary entries revealed one thing to Xu Dengming: Guo Jiajia’s family had experienced a conflict.
And in the game’s storyline, conflicts often carry special significance.
Unfortunately, Guo Jiajia only mentioned the parents’ argument but didn’t specify the reason.
Xu Dengming continued reading.
The May entries were still filled with “nothing worth recording,” until June, when some noteworthy records reappeared-
“June 3rd”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“The medicine is almost gone.”
“Dad replenished the new medicine.”
“June 28th”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“Playing badminton is still quite fun.”
The June diary told Xu Dengming that Guo Jiajia found badminton interesting.
Additionally, this child had been taking medicine, but there was no corresponding content in the earlier entries.
Xu Dengming wasn’t sure how long Guo Jiajia had been taking the medicine.
If Guo Jiajia started taking medicine before obtaining the diary, then this behavior had persisted for quite some time.
So, the white plastic bottle she had just seen in the drawer might contain the child’s medicine.
Did Guo Jiajia have some health issue?
Xu Dengming wanted to take out the plastic bottle to confirm, but when she looked down, she saw that the drawer was already closed.
…When did she close the drawer?
Xu Dengming frowned slightly.
For a moment, she almost suspected that her thoughts were being influenced by some unknown force again.
She reopened the drawer and, upon seeing its contents, her movements paused almost imperceptibly.
Inside the drawer, she found a stationery box, a white plastic bottle, and three notebooks.
Time seemed to repeat itself, unfolding the same scene before Xu Dengming’s eyes once more.
Even the diary she had been holding and flipping through moments ago had reappeared in the drawer, while the desktop was now empty.
Xu Dengming was well aware that many games had bugs where items would respawn, but experiencing such a bug in an immersive setting gave her a profound sense of eeriness.
Unlike the previous instance, her cognitive abilities weren’t stripped away, and the environment wasn’t filled with violence or chaos-it was simply abnormal.
This abnormality lurked quietly within the calm of daily life, only to suddenly emerge and catch her off guard.
Suppressing thoughts unrelated to clearing the level, Xu Dengming opened the white plastic bottle and confirmed that it indeed contained three white, pill-like objects.
Then, for the second time, she took out the diary from the drawer.
The contents of the diary remained unchanged despite the reset, with only a few meaningful entries.
After quickly reading through the records for June, Xu Dengming flipped the diary to July.
“July 9th.”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“Dad got really angry again and tore up my book.”
“July 10th.”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“Dad found me a new book, but now my Children’s Encyclopedia doesn’t look as neat.”
“July 30th.”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“Dad was angry. I told him not to be angry, but he tore up my book.”
“July 31st.”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“I no longer have The Essence of Food.”
It seemed that more things happened in July than before.
Xu Dengming noticed that the father in this household had once again lost his temper.
Guo Jiajia’s various diary entries described her father’s emotional outbursts, during which two of her books were torn up.
One was somewhat half-heartedly replaced, while the other was not replaced at all.
On July 30th, Guo Jiajia still seemed to hold some expectation for her father’s behavior.
It wasn’t until the next day that she realized he had no intention of finding another copy of The Essence of Food for her.
“Dad” seemed to be growing impatient and no longer wanted to make amends for his actions.
The atmosphere in the household was gradually becoming tense.
From the January entries, it was clear that besides Guo Jiajia and “Dad,” there were also “Grandma” and “Mom” in the family.
However, the latter two hardly appeared in the diary.
Apart from the initial argument, their presence was alarmingly minimal, with no mention of them mediating any conflicts.
Since they lived under the same roof, it was unlikely that “Grandma” and “Mom” had no contact with Guo Jiajia at all.
Xu Dengming leaned toward the idea that this was the child’s writing habit.
Aside from the initial mundane entries, she seemed to only record things that had a clear impact on her playing badminton was positive, while “Dad’s” outbursts were negative.
What about the new medication?
What impact did that have on Guo Jiajia?
Xu Dengming continued reading.
The August entries were not much different from July’s.
“August 18th.”
“Nothing worth recording.”
“Angry Dad tore up The Origin of Life.”
“I tried to heal the book, but it didn’t recover.”
Guo Jiajia’s father had once again torn up the child’s book.
However, unlike The Essence of Food, which had completely disappeared, The Origin of Life still remained on Guo Jiajia’s bookshelf.
Xu Dengming decided to look for clues in the book.
She struggled to climb onto the table, stretched out her arm, stood on tiptoe, and retrieved The Origin of Life from the top of the cabinet.
As soon as she pulled out the book, she immediately understood why Guo Jiajia said it hadn’t recovered.
The Origin of Life had been roughly torn into many pieces, and there were still traces of red thread stitching the torn pages together.
However, thread was clearly not a suitable tool for repairing books.
While it seemed fine when left quietly in the cabinet, as soon as it was held, the seemingly intact book immediately showed signs of falling apart.
Xu Dengming had to handle it with extra care.
Having gained some experience, Guo Jiajia no longer expected her father to bring books home.
She didn’t abandon the severely damaged “The Origin of Life” and began to do her best to repair it.
The books in the cabinet stirred up a bit of nostalgia in Xu Dengming.
As a child, she had once enjoyed spending rare moments of rest in the public library.
During that time, she had also read a popular science book titled “The Origin of Life” multiple times.
Now, flipping through it casually, she noticed that the content of this book was significantly different from what she remembered.
It must have just happened to share the same name.
“…The meaning of life lies in flesh and blood. Humans cut open vegetables, and pale green blood flows down the blade. The remaining bits of flesh are placed in hot water. Bubbles rise as humans patiently wait for them to dissolve.”
Xu Dengming’s expression turned somewhat peculiar.
She had never thought before that boiling vegetables in plain water could be recorded on paper in such a unique way.