Chapter 865: Everyone’s Thoughts

“So… you’re also afraid you might not be able to keep reading?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t say that,” White Sheep shook his head. “Everyone has their moments of laziness—it’s more about being prepared. If I don’t finish a book in a day, I feel like I ‘owe’ something, and the anxiety gets worse. That anxiety pushes me to complete the task every day.”

“Alright,” I nodded, feeling like I still couldn’t quite keep up with White Sheep’s train of thought.

But it was precisely this coincidence that helped me get closer to him.

Getting familiar with White Sheep relied on “seeking benefits and avoiding harm,” while with Jiang Ruoxue, it was “leg hair.” These social tricks aren’t written in any book. It seems that the connections between people are far more mysterious than anything books could describe.

The familiarity I felt with White Sheep was hard to put into words—like reuniting after a long separation, yet also like meeting for the first time.

I was getting to know someone I’d thought about every day for five years. It was a bit abstract, to say the least.

From then on, I visited White Sheep every morning and spent afternoons recruiting strong individuals. This went on for about a month.

White Sheep read faster than I’d imagined—sometimes finishing an entire theoretical book in a single afternoon.

And he’d started being particular about the content. He only wanted books on economics, management, political science, game theory, and the like. I once tried bringing him psychology books, but he didn’t seem interested.

One day, when I went to the bookstore to get him more books, I suddenly noticed it had changed.

A male Earth Snake had taken over, turning the bookstore into his “game arena.”

This was ridiculous. A bookstore that had always been unclaimed had suddenly become a game arena… How was I supposed to get books for White Sheep now?

I approached the pale, serpentine figure and explained my purpose. He grabbed my hand warmly and pulled me inside.

He told me everything could be negotiated, but I’d have to do something for him in return.

I watched him quietly, feeling like—aside from White Sheep—a second strange “Zodiac” had appeared.

He seemed… a bit effeminate.

The white snake told me that if I joined his “Grief Club,” I could “borrow” books from here under that pretext. I could choose any book, but it had to be returned after borrowing.

The problem was, all the books I gave White Sheep ended up in his residence. How was I supposed to return them to the white snake?

Maybe I should explain the situation to White Sheep… and have him return the books he’d finished each day?

As I pondered the feasibility of this condition, I suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

What was I even doing…?

Honestly, White Sheep hadn’t given me any promises or advantages. He said he’d “guaranteed my safety,” but who could prove that…?

For all I knew, all these years I’d been foolishly doing things for White Sheep while he did nothing in return.

And now, for his sake, was I really going to join this mysterious organization and make deals with other “Zodiacs”?

The thought that I’d been wasting my time for so long quickly dimmed the light in my eyes.

“Dang it, you brat,” the white snake said, looking at me. “What’s wrong? Why so gloomy all of a sudden?”

“I… I don’t know,” I shook my head. “Just remembered something unpleasant.”

“Well, that’s no problem!” the white snake said. “This ‘Grief Club’ I’ve set up is all about helping people overcome their sadness!”

“Overcome sadness?” I asked, puzzled. “You mean this ‘Grief Club’ is for helping people move past grief?”

Good grief—by the name, I’d assumed it was for *creating* sadness.

“What’s the format?” I asked.

“Uh… I haven’t thought that far yet. Grand opening today, just came up with the idea on the spot… Probably just sitting around sharing sad stories or something?”

I never imagined the “Zodiacs” could be so… casual.

“So, we sit in a circle and take turns telling our saddest stories?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that? What you people need is to vent! The more sad folks here, the more ears you’ll have, you brat!” the white snake added. “Who else would bother setting up a support group for the sad? Only me!”

“But that’s the wrong approach,” I sighed deeply and stood up. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to hear others’ sad stories. When you share ‘grief,’ everyone just ends up with twice as much.”

“Hiss…” The white snake frowned slowly. “Why does the way you talk sound so familiar?”

Ignoring him, I felt that faint sadness ease slightly and asked, “White Snake… what do you think drives each of us here to want to escape? Why do these people cling to life so much?”

“Drive…?” The white snake rubbed his head, unexpectedly looking sad himself.

I’d expected him to keep joking around, but instead, he sighed deeply and said, “I… can’t speak for others, but for me, it’s for my lover.”

“Lover…?” I blinked.

“Yeah, he’s still waiting for me at home. He’s suffered for me, endured hardships for me—he’s my reason to keep going.” The white snake furrowed his brow.

I studied him for a long moment. He kept calling me “brat,” making it seem like there was an age gap, though his serpentine appearance made it hard to tell. So he was already a married man?

Somehow, that made bizarre sense.

When you can’t find a reason to live for yourself, you can live for someone else.

Though White Sheep seemed young… Did he have a wife?

The white snake rubbed his eyes and added, “As long as I can escape this hellhole… even if I’m left full of scars, I won’t back down. That’s my drive.”

“I see…” I nodded at him. “You’ve given me a really good perspective.”

Seeing I was about to leave, he suddenly seemed reluctant. “Leaving already? You’re my first guest… If you won’t join the ‘Grief Club,’ how about playing a game? High chance of death—super thrilling!”

“I’ll pass on the game. One last question—if I don’t join your ‘Grief Club,’ can I still borrow books daily? I promise to return one for every one I take, starting tomorrow.” I turned back at the doorway. “And if I meet others, I’ll ask if they’d like to join your club. That’s the best I can offer.”

“Ah…” The white snake shook his head. “No… These books are my only game props. If I let everyone borrow freely, I’d be the first one breaking the rules.”

“Fine,” I nodded in understanding. “In that case, till we meet again.”

After a few steps, I turned back once more. “Oh, one more thing—change the name.”

“Huh?”

“Your ‘Grief Club,'” I sighed. “My school had something similar once, but they didn’t call it that. They called it a ‘Support Group.'”

“Oh?” The white snake blinked. “‘Support Group’?”

“At least that sounds like mutual help. Yours is just… terrifying.” I waved and left the bookstore.