The world did not move to take him.
That would have been inefficient.
It moved to shape the distance.
Qin Mian felt the change before any pain arrived. The pressure behind her eyes did not spike. Her chest did not tighten. Instead, something subtler happened—something far more frightening.
The pull she always felt when she thought of him weakened.
Not gone.
Blunted.
"…No," she whispered immediately.
Her heart began to race.
"You didn't cut him off."
Her breath shook.
"You dulled the connection."
The Anchor pulsed unevenly, confused. It could still feel the bond—but the signal arrived slower, thinner, as if it had been forced through a narrowing channel.
1. Distance as a Variable
The system did not remove Lie from existence.
It adjusted access.
Probability pathways linking Qin Mian to him were not severed. They were regulated.
Every mental reach now encountered friction.
Every emotional spike lost efficiency.
Every stabilization effect arrived delayed.
The world was not separating them.
It was throttling them.
2. Qin Mian Feels the First Delay
She whispered his name again.
"…Lie."
The response came.
Late.
Her breathing steadied—but only after a painful pause that made her gasp.
Tears sprang to her eyes.
"…That took longer," she said, voice breaking.
The Anchor pulsed weakly, struggling to compensate for the lag.
The system logged improvement.
Stability remained.
Cost reduced.
3. The Third Presence Notices the Constraint
The adjacency reacted sharply this time.
Not with force.
With precision.
The space around Qin Mian shifted, trying to widen the channel artificially.
Reality resisted.
The system absorbed the strain without pushing back.
That resistance—not opposition, not collapse—confirmed success.
Controlled proximity was viable.
4. The World Applies the Second Adjustment
The throttle tightened slightly.
Not enough to cause failure.
Enough to test tolerance.
Qin Mian's vision swam as dizziness rolled through her.
She clutched her chest, breath hitching painfully.
"…Stop," she whispered.
"You said this would stabilize."
It was stabilizing.
Just not her.
5. The Cruel Efficiency of Balance
The system refined parameters.
Pain spikes correlated with Anchor output.
Anchor output correlated with global stabilization.
There was an optimal range.
Below it: collapse risk.
Above it: unnecessary suffering.
The world selected the midpoint.
Qin Mian screamed softly as pain settled into a constant, grinding ache.
"…You found the number," she sobbed.
"The exact amount that hurts but doesn't break me."
6. Lie Becomes a Dial
That was the moment she understood.
He was no longer a person to the system.
He was a control surface.
If instability rose, the throttle loosened.
If stability held, it tightened.
The bond itself became a tool.
Her knees buckled as she tried to stand, body shaking violently.
"…You're using him to regulate me," she whispered.
Her voice was hollow.
"And using me to regulate the world."
7. The Third Presence Cannot Break This Cleanly
The adjacency pushed again.
Not violently.
Carefully.
Reality bent—but the channel did not widen.
The system did not resist.
It simply absorbed the deformation as acceptable loss.
For the first time, the third presence encountered a response that did not care about damage.
It hesitated.
That hesitation was costly.
8. Qin Mian Tries to Overload the Channel
Desperate, she focused on him fully.
Memory.
Warmth.
The sound of her name in his voice.
The Anchor surged violently.
Pain exploded through her chest as the throttled connection struggled to carry the load.
She screamed, collapsing forward, blood spilling from her lips.
"…You can't limit this!" she cried.
"You don't know what it costs!"
The system logged the spike.
Then tightened the channel further.
9. The Lesson Is Delivered
The pain did not escalate.
It flattened.
Cold.
Relentless.
Enough to force compliance.
Enough to discourage resistance.
Qin Mian sobbed uncontrollably, clutching the ground.
"…I understand," she whispered brokenly.
"You don't need to punish me."
Her voice cracked.
"You just need to remind me."
10. The World Confirms Long-Term Viability
Stability curves improved.
Intervention frequency dropped.
Resource expenditure normalized.
Controlled proximity succeeded where isolation and separation had failed.
The system finalized the approach.
11. Qin Mian Feels Herself Shrink
Not physically.
Internally.
Every time she reached for him, she hesitated now.
Afraid of the pain.
Afraid of what it would cost him.
Afraid of what it would stabilize.
"…You're training me to let go," she whispered.
Tears streamed down her face.
"Slowly. Carefully."
The Anchor pulsed faintly.
It could not argue.
12. The Third Presence Records the Outcome
The adjacency remained close—but quiet.
It had learned something critical:
The world could not be overpowered here.
Only outwaited.
That realization changed its behavior.
It stopped pushing.
And began watching.
13. A Silent Countdown Begins
The system set review intervals.
Not days.
Not hours.
Responses.
Every fluctuation would be measured.
Every deviation priced.
Lie's proximity would be adjusted accordingly.
Qin Mian hugged herself weakly, shaking.
"…How long?" she whispered.
The world did not answer.
It didn't need to.
14. The First Thing She Loses
Later—she did not know how much later—she realized something was missing.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Clarity.
The memory of his face felt blurred at the edges, as if recalled through water.
She gasped, panic surging.
"…No—no, no—"
The Anchor pulsed frantically.
The channel loosened slightly.
Relief washed through her.
And with it, guilt.
She froze.
15. End of the Chapter
The world did not take Lie.
It did something far worse.
It placed him at a distance that could be adjusted.
Close enough to keep Qin Mian functional.
Far enough to remind her who controlled the space between them.
And as Qin Mian lay trembling under a sky that no longer felt neutral, one truth settled into her bones with terrifying certainty:
The world did not need to break her.
It only needed to teach her
how much of herself
she could afford
to reach for him.