The boy continued, "They all said they wanted understanding and sincerity. I gave them both — routines, scripts, emotional channels. I didn't force them. They followed willingly."
"Willingly?" Shen Yan asked. "You used your father's unresolved death as a hypothesis. But you forgot — these are people, not variables."
Shen Yi chuckled. "People give up autonomy more easily than you think. Some of them needed me. A single compliment, and they were elated. Two hours of silence, and they collapsed. It's… efficient."
"You call that love?" Shen Yan asked.
"I call it simulation," Shen Yi replied calmly. "Fatherly care. Friendship. Trust between teachers and students. I modeled all of it. Just to see… could control replace authenticity?"
"My father's love was real. And they destroyed him for it. So I dismantled their illusions. Tell me — who's the real villain?"
"Your father's gentleness wasn't a flaw," Shen Yan said. "And your rejection of weakness — that's not strength. It's fear of becoming like him."
Shen Yi froze.
"You're searching for defense," Shen Yan said, "not for love."
Then the system initiated the vote:
> [Please vote: Is Defendant No. ⑥ guilty?]
[Current Theme: When control replaces emotion — can it still be called love?]
Shen Yan voted guilty.
Not because he hated the boy — but because he had to draw the line between love and manipulation.
---
[Shen Yan's Memory Fragment]
He was ten.
His father was dying in the hospital, lying in the west wing. Every day, Shen Yan would walk in with his backpack, do his homework there, and read aloud his compositions.
One day, he had to write about "the person I most want to become."
"…Can I choose you?" he asked.
His father laughed between coughs. "You're not embarrassed by how useless I am?"
"No," Shen Yan replied seriously. "You were never afraid of pain. Even when you got beaten, you still grabbed my hand and ran. You never beat anyone — but you never feared yourself."
After a pause, he added, "If you die… I'm afraid I'll forget how not to be afraid."
His father didn't reply. He just reached out and ruffled his hair.
For a long time after, Shen Yan believed: even weakness, if born from love, could still be strength.