The little girl was lying.
Given the way these children were kept, it was hardly surprising that a few of them died now and then.
But after someone died in the room, An'an hadn't acted utterly calm and numb. Instead, she had seemed terrified beyond measure, holding it all in and not daring to make a sound.
The acting was too obvious.
His and Sheng Ziyao's assigned roles were students, so after the child took her medicine, Shen Ru had stayed silent, considering how to approach the matter.
Yet An'an had seemed anxious, desperate for the two of them to hear the whole story from her.
Whenever Shen Ru paused for even a moment, she used her panic and fear to carry the story smoothly forward.
Thinking about it carefully, she was at an age when she could barely distinguish right from wrong, locked in this sunless place like a caged pet, doomed to endure fate's cruel games for the rest of her life.
How could she still be an innocent child who knew nothing of the world?
And the tiny details of her movements hinted that she wasn't the passive party here.
The seemingly casual attempts to entice, the deliberate, composed shifts in her gaze.
Perhaps what had happened in that room before they entered hadn't necessarily been directed by the dean.
It was only a simple guess, but there was one thing Shen Ru could be certain of.
This child wanted him to go to where she lived. Desperately.
"I'll take you back."
His voice wasn't loud, but it brooked no refusal.
An'an wanted to try persuading him again, but when she looked up and saw the chill in those dark red eyes, she swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue.
"Then will you carry