Chapter 44: Hiding

Wen Yaquan, heart heavy with her daughter’s promise, spun around and grabbed a fully charged tablet and two bundles of wires from a drawer.

Under Lin Yu’s confused stare, she deftly linked the tablet to the screen before her, then plugged the other end into a wall socket.

The tablet flared to life, a cross-shaped icon flashing. Her fingers danced, and the room’s lights blazed brighter.

“Lin Yu.”

Lin Yu, stunned by her mother’s sudden moves, jolted. “I’m here!”

No child shrugs off their full name from a parent. Wen Yaquan rarely used it—only for mistakes or grave matters.

Bang! Bang!

Collisions echoed through the rain. Lin Yu, trembling, glanced toward the window. Wen Yaquan cupped her face.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t look.”

Her tone softened. “Xiaoyu, remember every word I say, got it?”

Lin Yu, face held, nodded hard.

“We can’t contact outside. It’s dangerous. I can handle it, but with you, it’s riskier.”

“Go to the first-floor women’s bathroom. Ignore the light switch. Grab a mop, smash the tile beside it—it’s hollow, just a little force.”

Seeing Lin Yu’s slight nod, she continued, “Inside, there’s a PIN pad. Press #, enter 2012, then # again. Follow the door to the basement. Food and water’s there. Don’t worry. Come out when I message you. If I don’t… wait a week, then use the emergency number to call Dad. Got it all?”

“I got it,” Lin Yu said, dazed. Why was her mother different? A secret basement? This felt like a 007 movie, not reality.

Wen Yaquan’s expression brooked no argument.

Lin Yu had seen her mother’s business videos—sharp, steady, calm. At home, Wen Yaquan was a carefree chuunibyou, playing with figurines, a stark contrast to her professional side.

Now, that sharp edge was back, unlike her usual self. Lin Yu, despite being her daughter, felt intimidated, avoiding her eyes.

Something was off.

Glancing at her mother’s eyes, Lin Yu saw it: fear.

Wen Yaquan, always composed—even when her game character teetered on one life against a boss’s final form—now radiated deep dread.

Lin Yu sensed her mother’s “heart.” She was terrified, her earlier urgency a forced calm.

When had this started? After Lin Yu said she had no nightmares? But wasn’t that normal?

When had she fallen asleep?

Before she could puzzle it out, Wen Yaquan said, “Do as I say. You must.”

She ruffled Lin Yu’s hair, lingering. “Don’t look outside. Run to the first floor, fast. No matter what, follow my words, okay?”

“Okay.”

Wen Yaquan half-pushed her to the door. “Run!”

Lin Yu bolted downstairs.

The third to first floor was quick—she wasn’t frail. But most lights were off, the few left dim, as if dusted over.

With howling wind and rain, the horror-movie vibe made her heart race.

Meow!

On the first floor, a cat’s cry. Clutching the railing, Lin Yu spotted Hei Dou under dim light, back arched, hissing outward.

“Hei Dou…” She’d forgotten the kitten.

Rainy night, dim lights, a black cat’s shrieks—fear crept in, but she approached. “What’re you looking at? Come here…”

Hei Dou, usually sweet and smart, never hissed. If bothered, it’d twist away, not attack. Perfect for the café.

Now, it was in “Ridgeback Dragon” mode, snarling at something.

Boom! Bang!

The collisions weren’t thunder.

What was outside?

Touching Hei Dou, trembling violently, it jumped at her touch, claws out, then retracted, resting on her arm.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Grabbing the cat, Lin Yu backed toward the bathroom.

“You—” BOOM!!! “Ah!”

A deafening crash cut her off, making her scream.

Outside the glass door, a glowing knight-armored girl skidded meters across the ground, stopping near the café.

She propped herself up with a purple-crystal sword, glanced at the café, spotted Lin Yu, widened her eyes, made a “Go!” gesture, and flew off, vanishing from view.

Boom!

Another collision.

Lin Yu understood: a magical girl—likely Jiang Yao—fighting something huge.

She wanted to fetch her mother, but Wen Yaquan’s words echoed.

“Walk!”

Clutching Hei Dou, Lin Yu ran to the bathroom.