Chapter Two: The Person Who Was Replaced

The first four were merely soft shapes. Then Old Chen, the collection keeper, entered—and his face dissolved into blank white. He was speaking to his daughter on the phone. His voice was affectionate. He remembered her childhood nickname. “No face doesn't mean no memory,” Yanqiu said. “And it doesn't prove he's not human,” Gu warned. At 10:17, Yanqiu received an automated message confirming a corneal-correction assessment she had never booked. The physician was Pei Zhaoting, a famous ophthalmologist and the museum board's newest charitable patron. Pain pierced her right eye. Tears spilled down her cheek. When she looked up, the fifth row of the wall chart had sharpened. Twelve diopters. An improvement of one full diopter.