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Now reading: Chapter 1270: 1268: Loss of Image (12) from Facing an Ancient God for a Year, a Supernatural novel by Journey to the West's Revolver.

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 imdiately 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—sothing 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 rember.”

It seed the person involved felt the sa.

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

“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 glimred 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 rely talking to herself.

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

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

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

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

“It seems it was.”

The rapid sequence of developnts 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 ti, 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.

“mory 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 thod 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 rely a conjecture.”

Surprisingly, for soone known for his rciless candor, Fu Qian actually agreed this ti.

“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 lancholia was promptly shattered by a single statent.

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

“Are you even listening to ?”

….

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

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

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

“Art… its impact?”

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

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

“I was young once too; I understand the shock of first encountering sothing 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 monts, may compel you to shut your eyes out of sheer awe… It’s clear that soone 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 thod is flattery—especially focused on their children.

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

Albeit only slightly.

Clearly, to him, this was a mont 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 judgnt.

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 reaffird the existence of supernatural elents—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 seed 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 asure 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.

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