2 Memories

After dusk, the light outside the window gradually faded into darkness, and the figure facing away from the window was swiftly swallowed by the heavy night.

Qingzhou Fang straightened her slack shoulders, her rigid and sharp profile clearly revealing her anxiety and unease.

The woman lowered her gaze, withdrawing her aggressive aura, pushed back her chair, and went to turn on the light.

As the warm amber light illuminated the room, shadows of her hair and lashes cast across Qingzhou Fang’s face. The stark interplay of light and shadow made her complexion appear even paler.

Slowly, Qingzhou Fang lifted her head, her deep eyes reflecting a cold, fierce intensity. She met the woman’s scrutinizing gaze head-on, silently and patiently conveying the swelling emotions within her.

From the moment she awoke that morning, countless mysteries pressed upon her mind, memories fragmented like cotton fluff. Hearing such a resolute accusation from the other side, she found herself momentarily doubting her own identity. What followed was a surge of overwhelming anger, like a bomb on the brink of explosion under extreme pressure.

Inwardly, Qingzhou Fang reminded herself: one must not doubt the fundamental truths.

I am Qingzhou Fang.

She withdrew her hand from the table abruptly. Without courtesy, she retorted, “I am not. Are you?”

Her tone rose slightly, each word pronounced with weight: “From the moment we met, you have shown me no basic respect.”

The woman corrected sternly, “We respect you very much. We sent eight people to intercept you. On the ride back, everyone squeezed together to give you space. Most people don’t get such treatment.”

Qingzhou Fang was left speechless.

Noticing the faint twitch of the muscles on Qingzhou Fang’s cheek, her composure nearly breaking, the woman seemed to realize a missing step belatedly and politely introduced herself: “My name is He Ji. Is this the kind of respect you mean? Sorry, it’s the first time I’ve met a suspect who takes the initiative to care about my name—I’m inexperienced.”

He Ji seemed oblivious to Qingzhou Fang’s indignation, half-heartedly reached out her hand, then wisely withdrew it without waiting for a response. Turning, she grabbed back the tablet and carried on with an indifferent expression.

“After the project was halted by the Three Authorities, all digital data was deleted, leaving only paper archives, which we were forbidden to view or borrow. We found a few news reports from that time and interviewed some related individuals, but there are still unclear points—please help clarify.”

“This girl, known by the alias Sun Qingqing… disappeared at age four, was abducted, imprisoned in a basement for years, and only recovered by the police at thirteen,” He Ji read from the records, oddly pausing between phrases, occasionally glancing at Qingzhou Fang from the corner of her eye to observe her reaction. “Due to prolonged and severe psychological abuse, she lacked normal social cognition and could not engage in ordinary conversation. Her family spent years trying to improve her condition without success, and then your mentor introduced her to you. With the consent of her guardian, you made her the sole subject of the anomaly assessment experiment.”

Qingzhou Fang’s attention was drawn away by the mention, memories related to the text surfaced one by one, and she soon stopped listening closely to the narration.

---

“She forgot her identity and past, becoming a rural girl who grew up socially awkward and, due to poor grades, left to work after high school. That is the fabricated life you created for her. She adapted to this alien environment within the cognition you reconstructed and perfectly integrated into society,” He Ji sighed with admiration. “In the end, it was not God who saved her from a doomed fate—but you.”

Qingzhou Fang inwardly resisted revisiting these old wounds. She averted her gaze, meeting the steady, wide-eyed stare of the young man beside her in midair.

In contrast, she suddenly found his serious, solemn face more agreeable. His silence was a rare and admirable quality.

Noticing Qingzhou Fang’s distraction, He Ji snapped her fingers in front of her face and curiously prodded, “Such a remarkably successful outcome must be a huge accomplishment for you. Just reading this document, I can sense the ultimate allure of manipulating a person’s brain. It surpasses all literary works and explorations of the unknown, for human intelligence is arguably the greatest creation in billions of years of biological evolution. Right? Tell me, why has the Earth produced so many adorable little creatures?”

Qingzhou Fang guessed the suspicion behind the question and sighed wearily.

He Ji applauded softly, her tone exaggerated. Receiving no response, she added fuel to the fire: “From then on, what granted them wisdom and controlled their thoughts was not only genes, effort, or education—but you. If you wished, you could just as easily lead them astray.”

“That notion is disgusting,” Qingzhou Fang said, lips pressed into a thin line, clearly displeased by the attack. “This subtle venom you hide in your words is not clever.”

“Is it?” He Ji showed no embarrassment at being called out, continuing with her sharp critique. “I thought my provocation skills were top-notch. Most people fall for it—they talk to me for less than ten minutes before trying to spit in my face. But I enjoy chatting with them. They struggle to conceal their frustration like a mad dog dressed in fine clothes. Their furious barking sounds almost endearing.”

Qingzhou Fang gradually calmed as the conversation went on. Hearing such blatant insults, she remained indifferent and said, “I am not most people.”

Feigning confusion, He Ji asked, “What kind of person then? A savior?”

Qingzhou Fang’s reply was equally cold and harsh: “An arrogant loser, a pitiful soul praying for the weak to kneel and look up.”

This time, He Ji was left speechless. After pondering briefly, she nodded in agreement, “Truly. You understand that mindset perfectly.”

Then, with curiosity, she asked, “Are you really not angry? No need to be so guarded. Your procedures were completely legal—I can’t do anything to you.”

He Ji, now lost in boundless speculation, mused aloud, “What kind of life script do you think suits me? Personally, I prefer one with abundant knowledge, where I can casually advise others and earn lots of money while lying down. Can you fulfill that dream for me?”

Qingzhou Fang drew a breath and said wearily, “Don’t try to test me. I don’t know what’s happening outside, but it definitely wasn’t me. After the project stopped, I never conducted any related research.”

She tapped her temple. “If this really relates to that research, then isn’t my current state more like that of a victim?”

He Ji’s brow twitched subtly, a complicated expression crossing her face. She seemed unconvinced but temporarily restrained her sharpness and asked, “Is memory transplantation truly possible?”

---

Qingzhou Fang explained without emotion, “Perhaps. Experiments on animals as early as the 20th century showed that one key function of neurons is memory. So, in theory, transplanting brain cells could partially transfer memories. However, some theories suggest that memory is not entirely stored in neural micro-networks. But this is unrelated to our team.”

He Ji’s expression grew heavy as she leaned back in her chair: “You actually researched this?”

Qingzhou Fang nearly laughed from irritation: “No, not at all. The human brain has approximately one hundred billion neurons. Extracting specific memories accurately is extremely difficult because we don’t even know where particular memories are stored. Besides, whose brain cells would I transplant to her? I only wanted to help her, not go to jail.”

She tried to explain simply but felt it was a waste of breath, then chose her words carefully: “Sun Qingqing’s case is special. We mostly used psychological methods to try to overwrite her memories.”

He Ji nodded, as if understanding, then returned to her previous question: “So why did you stop the project?”

This time, Qingzhou Fang spoke slowly, eyes downcast, hesitating with uncertainty even in her own words: “If the human brain is like an almost perfect computer, and a person’s memories are data, then through electrical stimulation or brain-computer interfaces, one might attempt to target specific neuron subsets to read, delete, overwrite, or rewrite memories or thoughts...

“Do different memories produce different ways of thinking? Do different ways of thinking change a person’s character?

“What truly determines personality—memories or instincts? Is a person with false memories still the original person?

“If a person’s behavior and character change due to altered memories, then what is that considered?

She raised her head, clear pupils reflecting the scattered ceiling lights, chillingly hollow: “I don’t know. And I find it terrifying.”

The young man in the background finally couldn’t hold back and made a sound as if to comment. When both women turned to him, he confidently offered a humorous answer: “Sounds like possession, doesn’t it?”

Qingzhou Fang was speechless.

She felt her facial nerves twitching uncontrollably, nearly losing her composed expression.

He Ji was also close to breaking, shooting him a glare and turning her shoulder away to put some distance between them, scolding, “Shut up. You make me look crazy too.”