Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1270: Chapter 1268: Loss of Image (12)

True experts only need to outline the essence of the problem.

The chaotic and bewildering atmosphere in the bedroom cleared instantly with Fu Qian’s one sentence, escalating immediately into horror.

For the Winslow family, all three of them were undoubtedly rational individuals, and they swiftly grasped why “stay still” and “close your eyes” were being compared.

“Doctor, are you implying that there isn’t actually a problem with her vision?”

Though addressing Fu Qian, by the end of her inquiry, Mrs. Winslow was looking at her daughter.

Jane’s earlier discomfort wasn’t truly physical, but rather prompted by a voice instructing her to close her eyes.

The thought itself was deeply unsettling—something Mrs. Winslow clearly didn’t want to accept, deep down.

Yet past experiences made it impossible to ignore the sprouting seed of this notion once it took root.

“…I can’t quite remember.”

It seemed the person involved felt the same.

Faced with her mother’s questions, Jane’s gaze grew distant, as though she were lost in her own memories.

“Itching, pain, soreness, numbness, dizziness… The sensation of blacking out—do these symptoms make you recall any accompanying discomfort?”

Seeing Jane struggle to piece her recollections together, Fu Qian’s Clear Dream Ring glimmered in his hand, lending her its aid.

“No…”

Ah, youth. With just a tiny nudge, Jane managed to break through her own barriers.

“Then what is it?”

Fu Qian smiled lightly and kept pressing on with the diagnosis.

“Nothing at all… In fact, even before I close my eyes, I can still see every detail of the painting…”

Jane’s voice grew quieter and quieter as she spoke, eventually sounding as though she was merely talking to herself.

But judging by the tenor sliding into a tone indistinguishable from a child under the age of ten, it came off like a little girl trying to scare others by lowering her voice.

From the corner of her eye, Natalie seemed to finally notice this shift and discreetly assessed Jane up and down.

“So… it was already there at that time, wasn’t it?”

Jane’s voice suddenly steadied in the next moment, and she fixed her gaze on Fu Qian as if seeking confirmation for this revelation.

“It seems it was.”

The rapid sequence of developments left the Winslow couple shaken and fearful, their gazes full of apprehension as they observed their daughter. Clearly, they didn’t want Jane’s speculation to be true, but Fu Qian ruthlessly dismantled any hope of denial.

“So all this time, I’ve been… Doctor, what exactly is that thing?”

Jane brushed her face absentmindedly, especially over her eyes, showing she’d fully internalized the diagnosis.

“Memory is prone to inaccuracies. Ultimately, this is just a possibility, isn’t it, Doctor?”

Before Fu Qian could reply, Mr. Winslow interjected with an unusually serious expression.

The undeniable fact that Fu Qian’s seemingly random diagnostic method had yielded new insights left Mr. Winslow visibly shaken.

Deep down, even Mr. Winslow leaned towards believing the conclusion drawn.

But the conclusion was so pessimistic that, even if it were just to comfort his daughter, he clung to his hope that Fu Qian might soften it a bit.

“Yes, it’s merely a conjecture.”

Surprisingly, for someone known for his merciless candor, Fu Qian actually agreed this time.

“Understood… But in your view, within this theory, what is ‘that thing,’ exactly?”

Sadly, this attempt at comfort was clearly ineffective for Jane, who continued staring intently at Fu Qian, determined to get to the heart of the matter.

“Jane…”

Mrs. Winslow, now tearful, gently grabbed her daughter’s hand.

“The impact of art—we’ve always been discussing that topic, haven’t we?”

But the melancholia was promptly shattered by a single statement.

Taking in the family’s sorrowful expressions, Fu Qian seemed slightly displeased.

“Are you even listening to me?”

….

No wonder they say teachers leave lasting impressions. Reacting most strongly to Fu Qian’s question was, surprisingly, Natalie.

A glimmer in her eye dissipated almost instantly, replaced by a gaze filled with unnerving complexity.

Why Fu Qian had summoned her seemed to plunge her back into confusion.

“Art… its impact?”

Only now did Mrs. Winslow’s halting voice emerge, sounding similarly conflicted.

There had indeed been prior discussion on this topic, and it was undeniably her fervent wish for her daughter to be unharmed. However, this explanation…

“I was young once too; I understand the shock of first encountering something extraordinary.”

Yet Fu Qian’s unyielding tone, despite the intensity of Mrs. Winslow’s scrutiny, was unsettlingly matter-of-fact.

“The masterpieces of true brilliance possess a spiritual resonance that, in certain moments, may compel you to shut your eyes out of sheer awe… It’s clear that someone here exhibits remarkable aptitude in this area.”

With a slight nod, it was the first sign of genuine praise Fu Qian had offered all night.

“It seems your daughter gained a lot from that exhibition—even the lingering effects of her encounter with that final masterpiece have carried forward to this day.”

“Jane does have a keen sensitivity in this respect… But Doctor, do you really think all of this is just because of that painting?”

When dealing with parents, the simplest method is flattery—especially focused on their children.

Though Mr. Winslow had previously seemed ready to dismiss Fu Qian outright, the doctor’s strategically injected compliment now softened his tone by a notch.

Albeit only slightly.

Clearly, to him, this was a moment of deep contemplation, requiring serious reevaluation of their next course of action.

“Certainly. Paintings can even inspire dreams.”

Under Mr. Winslow’s close scrutiny, Fu Qian smiled faintly, exuding complete confidence in his judgment.

Dreams…

Yet this reply instantly made Mr. Winslow’s breath catch.

This four-person brainstorming session was not fruitless in his eyes, after all.

Whether or not it was the answer he sought, Mr. Winslow instinctively believed the voice had indeed prompted his daughter to close her eyes.

This only reaffirmed the existence of supernatural elements—the exact reason he now wrestled internally over whether to seek out The Sect.

But a key issue remained: why had the voice told his daughter to close her eyes?

Based on what followed, nothing unusual seemed to have occurred.

This lingering question, ever since earlier, was suddenly illuminated by Fu Qian’s response.

The painting triggers dreams—even nightmares!

Recent widespread cases in Leytin of nightmare sufferers linked to exposure to Special Items weren’t exactly confidential to people like Mr. Winslow.

That painting was undoubtedly problematic. The voice telling his daughter to close her eyes had likely been a protective measure to shield her from its effects!

And this man had anticipated it all along—only keeping silent likely because of Natalie, while his earlier words subtly hinted at this truth throughout.