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Now reading: Chapter 1268: 1266: Loss of Image (10) from Facing an Ancient God for a Year, a Supernatural novel by Journey to the West's Revolver.

Chapter 1268: Chapter 1266: Loss of Image (10)

Is it really so anthropomorphic?

I have to say, the answer Miss Winslow ca up with after half a minute of contemplation was quite surprising.

It turned out to be a direct voice telling her to drive her mother away.

But in this case, compared to rely wanting so peace and quiet, the logic does appear much smoother.

Besides, under the Clear Dream Ring, the credibility of this answer is evidently trustworthy.

At this mont, the already quiet bedroom beca even quieter with Jane’s narration.

Even Jane herself, facing the doctor and her parents’ gaze, couldn’t help but lower her voice.

“How could that be? I didn’t hear any sound at all back then.”

The person most taken aback had to be Mrs. Winslow.

While she was softly talking to her daughter here, there was soone else on the bed, speaking to her daughter too.

Even with her husband right beside her, this eerie scene was still hard for her to imagine.

For a mont, she looked at her daughter cautiously, guessing other possibilities.

“Could it be that you fell asleep later… and so mories got mixed up between reality and dreams?”

The power of maternal love was so great that she could even guess this correctly.

Jane had yet to respond, but Fu Qian was already silently praising her.

“No, I’m absolutely certain I didn’t fall asleep.”

Unfortunately, Jane clearly failed to grasp her mother’s wisdom, shaking her head resolutely.

“Compared to dreaming, I’d much rather believe it was a hallucination.”

“No way…”

But Mrs. Winslow clearly couldn’t accept this explanation either. Shaking her head in a slightly dazed manner, she instinctively looked at her husband.

“Doctor, what’s going on here?”

Her feelings seed to align with his, but Mr. Winslow evidently showed greater respect for professional expertise. He imdiately directed his gaze at Fu Qian instead of making assumptions on his own.

“There’s no need to be nervous. A young person of this age will inevitably experience so fascinating fantasies.”

The professional brushed it off with a casual gesture, as usual, reassuring them that there was no problem. He then softened his tone, guiding them gently.

“Did that voice say anything else?”

“Just that one sentence.”

Jane’s emotions seed to settle as she slightly shook her head.

“What kind of voice was it? Young or old? Male or female?”

“I don’t know…”

Jane furrowed her brows. This ti, she deliberated for half a minute on her own, her face once more revealing a pained expression.

“There was no sense of vocal tone at all. It felt like it was directly imprinted in my mind, with an undeniable persuasiveness…”

“I didn’t even feel the urge to figure out who the owner of the voice might be… Of course, in that regard, I agree with my mother’s perspective—that apart from the two of us, there really wasn’t a third person here at the ti.”

“Understood.”

Although Jane’s answer seed devoid of substance, Fu Qian still listened diligently, even sparing a glance at the other two listeners.

As expected, though calm as Mr. Winslow might be, his face had gone pale this ti.

It wasn’t difficult to understand—this was no longer about whether their daughter’s words were true or false.

Such detailed description, true or false alike, could only be explained as a hallucination.

If she was telling the truth, then she truly conjured up a voice at the ti. If it was false, then she was currently imagining having heard a voice back then.

Either way, the explanation seed to lean closer toward the Transcendent.

“It’s nothing major, probably just a result of so intense emotional agitation from a significant shock.”

Despite the despair palpable even to the patient’s family, the next mont the professional healthcare practitioner still offered an overly optimistic conclusion.

Hmm?

The Winslow family of three now looked as though they had no words to express their feelings.

Yet under their gaze, the doctor was already packing up his tools.

“Sorry, Doctor, I still find it hard to imagine what kind of shock could produce results like this.”

Unable to accept paying money to hear comforting words alone, Mr. Winslow finally couldn’t hold back.

“Well, naturally, it must have been quite a powerful shock. It may not even necessarily have anything to do with her eye condition.”

When his professional competence was questioned, Fu Qian displayed remarkable emotional stability, calmly tidying up his dical kit and incidentally concluding the session under the Clear Dream Ring.

Faced with Mr. Winslow’s lingering dissatisfaction even after waking from the dream, Fu Qian pointed at a spot behind Jane.

Not related to her eye condition?

Mr. Winslow was montarily stunned, following Fu Qian’s gesture to look over.

It was a softly colored oil painting: a barren tree under the moon, paired with a muddy street—nothing terrifying, rather imbued with an additional sense of serenity.

He certainly recognized this painting. It wasn’t so master-level work, but his daughter liked it very much.

The question was—what was the aning behind this? Was the painting problematic?

“For those with an aptitude in appreciation, the impact of art can also be profoundly stirring.”

This ti, Fu Qian was quite forthcoming, sparing no room for excess speculation.

“I recall your daughter’s last outdoor activity was attending an art salon?”

“Yes, but I didn’t participate in it myself.”

The notion of artistic shock was rather excessively peculiar in its reasoning.

Mr. Winslow answered the question but clearly wore an expression that said, “Are you kidding ?”

“Apart from your wife and daughter, who else participated at the ti?”

Fu Qian paid no heed to his reaction.

“There was also Jane’s tutor.”

This ti, Mrs. Winslow spoke up eagerly.

“But we don’t recall anything unusual present at the ti.”

“Art appreciation is a very subjective matter.”

Fu Qian seed quite satisfied with this answer.

“Since you’re concerned about your daughter’s condition, could you bring this tutor here so I can ask about the situation?”

This…

Both Winslow parents simultaneously showed troubled expressions, seemingly reluctant to involve more people in this secret treatnt—especially when the reasoning was so absurd.

“Alternatively, we can go find her ourselves. I respect your choice.”

Seeing their response drew no discernible emotion from Fu Qian, who spoke in a tone suggesting the decision was entirely up to them.

“I’ll call her over.”

Driven by fatherly concern, Mr. Winslow made a decisive choice, agreeing to the seemingly nonsensical request after a few seconds of hesitation.

“Alright.”

Fu Qian smiled with satisfaction and stood up.

“I’ll wait in the room outside.”

While Mr. Winslow stepped out, the idea of soone with a hint of danger staying alone in this room with two won clearly bred concern.

As expected, the mont Fu Qian spoke these words, Mrs. Winslow’s expression softened slightly, seeming to elevate her evaluation of his dical ethics.

Of course, even so, Mr. Winslow didn’t keep anyone waiting too long before returning shortly.

Now dressed in a plain-colored dress with an air of intellectual elegance, Natalie followed behind him as they entered the room together, striving to make her gaze, which naturally swept over, appear normal.

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