The room fell into a brief silence.
A few seconds later, Dr. Li snapped back to attention."A Seraph?" he asked."Yes." "What ... was He doing?""Nothing," Lin Qiye replied softly. "He was like a golden statue, seated in the center of a vast lunar crater. He gazed up at Earth, as if... watching over it."
Dr. Li rubbed his temple, sighing in exasperation. "Qiye, do you know how far the Moon is from Earth?""Nearly four hundred thousand kilometers," Lin replied calmly.
"Four hundred thousand kilometers," Dr. Li repeated. "Even with the most advanced telescopes, you can barely discern surface details. And you were seven, lying on your home rooftop—and you claim to have seen an angel on the Moon with your naked eyes?"
"It wasn't me who saw Him," Lin Qiye said quietly. "He saw me. I just looked up—and my vision was pulled through space. I locked eyes with Him."
"So you're saying... He forced you to see it?""In a sense. Otherwise, how could I know what the lunar surface looked like? I don't have supernatural vision."
"But if there really is such an angel on the Moon, why hasn't humanity discovered it by now?""I don't know." Lin shook his head. "Maybe that Seraph doesn't want to be observed. Besides... do humans truly understand the Moon?"
Lin's earnest tone made Dr. Li almost reach for his phone to call a car—and take Qiye back to the hospital.
Dr. Li had treated countless psychiatric patients—and had learned: the more plausible and composed the delusion, the deeper the illness.
"So what about your eyes? What caused your blindness?"Lin reached up and gently rubbed the layers of black satin over his eyes. His voice remained unchanged. "The day I made eye contact with Him... I went blind."
Dr. Li opened his mouth, glanced at the case file—then fell silent.
Under the cause-of-blindness section, only four words were written:Cause unknown.
So... what really happened back then? Did Lin Qiye truly see the Seraph on the Moon? If not—what explains his sudden blindness?
The thought flickered for a moment, then Dr. Li mentally shut it down. Too close to being derailed by a "psychiatric patient."
He could imagine the young Lin speaking that same story to doctors ten years ago. The baffled yet dismissive looks. No wonder he was institutionalized. It was exactly the kind of statement only a mentally ill person might make.
Dr. Li continued: "That was in the past. What about now? What do you think happened?"
"It's just a delusion," Qiye answered as if reciting a script. "That day, I slipped off the roof, hit my head hard... one of my nerves was damaged—so I lost my sight."
He'd said those words countless times, smooth and calm.
Dr. Li raised an eyebrow, scribbled a note in the file, then chatted about everyday life. After roughly twenty minutes, he smiled, stood and said:"All done for today. Your condition is stable. I hope you can keep a positive mindset and live well."
They shook hands. Lin nodded politely.
"Aiyo, Dr. Li—stay for dinner!" Qiye's aunt called from the kitchen.
"No thank you. I have another patient." Dr. Li politely declined and left.
As the door closed, Lin Qiye's faint smile vanished completely—as if it never existed.
"A delusion... huh..." he murmured.
"Dinner, bro!" his cousin Yang Jin emerged from the kitchen with a dish.
Yang Jin, four years younger, entered middle school recently. Since Lin's parents disappeared, he had lived with his aunt—and they had become closer than siblings.
"Coming." Lin answered.
He sat at the small table. Unexpectedly, warmth radiated from under his feet. He paused, then smiled.
Under the table, Yang Jin peered down and teased:"Look at this lazy dog—comes running when food's ready."
A small black stray wagged its tail, panting softly. It peeked out, licked Lin's toes, seeking affection.
Three people. One dog. This was home.Simple. Hard. But strangely comforting.Ten years. This is how it's been.
Lin reached down, patted the dog's head. He took a small piece of meat from his plate and put it in Yang Jin's bowl.
"Give it a bone to chew."
Yang Jin didn't decline. After all, they had a brotherly bond.He cared more about something else:
"Brother—are your eyes really better now?"Lin smiled faintly: "Yes, I can see again. But I'm still light-sensitive. I need to keep the satin wrapped for a few more days."
"How many more days? Little Qi, you know your eyes are too important. Even if you can see now, don't rush to remove the bandage. What if the sun damages them again? Better safe than sorry—keep wearing it!" Aunt cautioned anxiously.
"Got it, Auntie."
"Oh—and I have sunglasses saved up for you. I'll show them later!" Yang Jin excitedly added.
Lin shook his head gently: "Ajin, sunglasses block light—but nowhere near as effectively as satin. I can't wear them just yet."
"Okay…" Yang Jin sounded disappointed.
"But when my eyes fully recover, I'll wear them all the time. And I'll get you a pair too—matching."
At that, Yang Jin's eyes lit up again. He nodded firmly.
"Auntie, about transferring schools... I've arranged it. When the next term starts, you'll move from the special school to a regular high school." She hesitated. "But are you sure you want that? It's not the same as the special school—given your condition, what if..."
"No what-ifs, Auntie." Lin interrupted gently. "My eyes are healed. If I want to get into a good university, I have to compete from the same starting line as everyone else."
"You're such a child... Even if you don't get into a top school, that's okay—I'll support you!"
"Bro, I can support you too!"
Lin's body trembled subtly. Beneath the black satin, the shape of his eyes remained unseen—but his lips curved into a faint, resolute smile.
He didn't say more—but both Yang Jin and their aunt felt the strength of his decision.
Even the little black dog nudged his ankle affectionately.
"—Woof!"