Days blurred as Qinglan tried to adjust. The visions came without warning—sometimes trivial, sometimes terrifying. She began keeping a notebook, scribbling down everything: the colors she saw, the words overheard, the objects breaking. Shen reviewed her notes silently, his brow furrowed in thought.
It was during this time that she noticed something unsettling about her best friend, Su Wanning. Normally cheerful and transparent, Wanning had grown distant. She avoided eye contact, changed topics abruptly, and once, Qinglan caught her whispering into her phone late at night.
The seed of doubt took root.
Meanwhile, Shen introduced her to his world—cases steeped in corruption, power struggles hidden beneath the city's polished surface. He let her sit in on one of his trials. As she listened, a strange déjà vu struck: the exact phrases, the slam of a fist on the desk—she had seen them already in her visions.
Afterward, Shen told her quietly, "Your pact isn't just a curse. It can be a weapon. Use it carefully, and you may not only survive—but uncover truths others can't."
But Qinglan wasn't sure she wanted this power. One night, another vision gripped her: her father's voice calling her name, then fading into shadows, and behind him, a tall figure she couldn't fully see. The vision dissolved into smoke, leaving her breathless.
Her father hadn't simply run away. Someone had pulled the strings.
And now, every instinct told her that Wanning was entangled in it.
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