After Zhou An went missing all those years ago, it was Carpenter Zhou who took the initiative to report it to the police. But with insufficient clues, they couldn’t open a case and simply classified it as a teenage runaway incident.
People in the Small Town pitched in to help search, but no one really put their heart into it.
Those few days were sheer agony for Meng Bai. She couldn’t focus on her exam prep because she was out looking for Zhou An, yet the bizarre nature of Zhou An’s disappearance left her harboring deep suspicions.
On the fourth night after Zhou An vanished, Meng Bai lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep. In the end, she decided to head out and search once more.
Ten years ago in the Small Town, streetlights came courtesy of the moon overhead. Neighbors’ houses had bolted their doors long ago, leaving the surroundings in a quiet, faintly desolate hush.
Fortunately, Meng Bai had grabbed the family’s flashlight on her way out, so at least she could see where she was going.
She remembered it clearly: that night, she took the narrow path—the most remote one, the only stretch they hadn’t searched yet.
Rural night roads had an eerie chill to them, and Meng Bai was honestly scared.
What terrified her even more was realizing halfway down the path that it led toward the Lunatic’s house.
That same night, Meng Bai first sensed that the Old Courtyard might harbor secrets.
The heavy iron gate loomed like the eyes of a specter, silently bearing witness to all that passed.
Suddenly—
Creak—
The Old Courtyard’s iron gate eased open with a slow groan. A dark shadow stepped over the threshold and emerged.
She would never forget the scene of first laying eyes on Miao Bai.
Early autumn, a moonlit night. Cold moonlight bathed the courtyard’s stone walls, gilding them in a sheen of pale white glow.
Miao Bai was draped in a Black Cloak. Her tall, slender figure appeared softened in the moonlight as she strode straight ahead. With each step, the cloak fluttered lightly in the night breeze. Looking closely, one could just make out the contours of her form.
Back then, Meng Bai strained to see more clearly. Her gut told her Miao Bai didn’t resemble an old crone at all.
But before she could get a good look, she spotted a man trailing behind her.
The guy was Zhang Zhou, infamous around town for his sleazy ways. He’d been shadowing Meng Bai since she left home, and spotting her under the tree only excited him further.
He lunged at her heedlessly, his intentions unmistakably foul.
Meng Bai jumped in fright. When she tried crying out for help, she realized no one else was around.
All she could do was wrench free and bolt like a bat out of hell. She knew exactly what would happen if Zhang Zhou caught her.
The memory banished any trace of sleepiness from Meng Bai. The rice noodle soup on the table had gone cold, but the two women were still deep in animated conversation. “You know how it was—I was so scrawny back then, a total weakling.”
“Yeah, I don’t get it. How did Zhang Zhou not catch you?”
“Because that’s when I ran into Miao Bai.” Meng Bai’s lips curved in a smile. Ten years later, that first encounter remained crystal clear in her mind. “Picking up from the weakling part.”
Meng Bai wasn’t truly sickly; she just rarely exercised. Puberty had left her especially skinny, all spindly arms and legs, the picture of fragility. But it had its perks—she was nimble.
That night, Zhang Zhou pursued her relentlessly. Meng Bai had no choice but to veer off the path and dash into the fields.
Vegetable fields bursting with crops. In her flight, she trampled who knew how many.
In short, less than two minutes in, she was gasping for air, her legs turning to jelly. This is it, Meng Bai thought.
Zhang Zhou was about to catch her for real.
Just as despair nearly overtook her—
She collided with a soft, yielding embrace.
Even now, the memory felt fresh. Miao Bai’s scent was a luxurious aroma unlike anything she’d ever smelled during her dozen-plus years in the Small Town—indescribable, yet irresistibly alluring.
And that night, as Miao Bai drew her into her arms, she murmured softly, “Don’t be scared. He’s just a filthy pervert.”
Naturally, the filthy pervert caught up soon after.
But what awaited him wasn’t some trapped little bird. It was a barrage of nightmarish visions.
According to Zhang Zhou’s later account, he’d frozen in place that night, staring at a female ghost—a severed head dangling from a tree branch, fixated on him.
He pissed himself on the spot, blubbering pleas for mercy.
“Illusion Technique.” Here, Meng Bai glanced at Zhou An. The two shared a knowing nod. “You found out later too—Miao Bai can wield the Illusion Technique.”
The Illusion Technique, at its core, induced hallucinations in others. The caster could conjure any illusion imaginable.
Terrifying ones. Pleasant ones. Serene ones…
Everything Zhang Zhou saw that night was mere illusion—the ghost was fake, but devastatingly effective.
From then on, Zhang Zhou never indulged another lewd impulse. Word was he’d even developed some inner ailment; no matter what, he couldn’t get it up anymore.
But that wasn’t the point.
The real kicker? For someone who’d witnessed the Illusion Technique’s reality firsthand, it was earth-shattering.
Meng Bai had been just seventeen that year. Her world was tiny, confined to this poor backwater Small Town. She’d never even laid eyes on a smartphone, yet here was someone wielding superpowers!
Forgive her younger self’s sparse vocabulary. In her shock, “superpower” was the best she could muster.
“That first meeting with Miao Bai upended my entire worldview. It was pure magic. I’d never believed in ghosts or gods, but I was wrong—the world might be far more wondrous than I’d ever dreamed. It was just my own shortsightedness. After that, I saw her as all-powerful.” Meng Bai shifted gears. “We’ve been at this too long. The boss looks ready to close up. How about we settle the bill first?”
Zhou An grabbed a napkin, wiped her mouth, and nodded. “Fine, we can pay. But I’m hooked—you’ve got to keep going.”
It was four a.m.
The two wandered the city’s streets. Alleys lay silent and empty. Night rain had left the roads slick with puddles, streetlights shimmering on the water like polished ladies’ leather shoes.
“Keep going. I’m not done listening.”
“Miao Bai, she—” Meng Bai halted abruptly and looked up at Zhou An. “Want to double back? Follow the road she just took?”
Zhou An had expected more reminiscing, not this sudden leap.
“Oh, her.” Zhou An scratched her head. “When I held her up earlier, she mentioned pulling an all-nighter for some overtime gig, I think… Looked like she headed that way?”
“Working through the night like this.” Meng Bai frowned.
When Miao Bai vanished all those years ago, she hadn’t specified how she’d return—only that she would.
What form she’d take, what method—no clue.
Meng Bai had even made countless assumptions during those moments of reverie.
For instance, would Miao Bai end up turning into a cat or a dog—or maybe even a trash can on the side of the street?
If that had happened, she really would have spent her life alone, and even after death, she’d have clawed her way out of the coffin to curse up a storm.
Luckily, that wasn’t the case.
Miao Bai had returned in human form.
It was a shame she seemed to have lost all her old memories, but on second thought, that made perfect sense.
“She’s just an ordinary person now, right?” Zhou An blinked, emphasizing her words. “No illusion techniques, no restriction to nighttime outings, no turning invisible. We can walk side by side with her in broad daylight, under the sun?”
“I’d guess so,” Meng Bai added. “And she’ll grow old and get sick and die like the rest of us. No more vanishing into thin air.”
Zhou An didn’t reply. In her heart, she thought that if it was true, it couldn’t be better.
They retraced their steps, following the same path Miao Bai had taken.
They pushed through the raucous bustle of the night market, heading straight ahead until the noise faded into sudden quiet.
Meng Bai went on. “From the moment I first laid eyes on her, I was utterly captivated by Miao Bai.”
“Captivated? So you knew you liked girls back then?”
“I didn’t have the words for it at the time.” Meng Bai smiled. “It was more like worship—an overwhelming curiosity I couldn’t shake.”
“Curious about what?”
“What she actually looked like. She hadn’t taken off her veil yet, and everyone said she hid her face because she was hideously ugly.”
Zhou An let out a soft, amused hum. “That’s hilarious. To this day, I haven’t seen many people prettier than Miao Bai.” She glanced sideways at Meng Bai. “She’s beautiful, sure, but her beauty goes way beyond the surface.”
Meng Bai’s lips pressed together unconsciously as flashes of memory danced through her mind. Her throat bobbed with a swallow.
“Tsk, I saw that. What are you gulping down?”
“I miss her,” Meng Bai said.
“Miss her? Or do you miss making love to her?”
Meng Bai shot Zhou An an odd look, then pinched her shoulder hard. “What the hell are you talking about? I was only seventeen that year—not even an adult. We never…”
“But you turned eighteen later.” Zhou An arched her brows with a knowing smirk.
“But Miao Bai never crossed that line.” Meng Bai ducked her head and murmured, “She knew she was going to disappear someday. She was too pessimistic about the future for anything more than hugs and kisses.”
Hugs and kisses.
For the Meng Bai of back then, it had been more than enough.
In the most vibrant bloom of her youth, she had offered every tender petal of her heart to Miao Bai, without a single regret.
“Oh, I get it. You wanted it bad. So it makes sense that after you grew up, you’d have those erotic dreams every time you got drunk.”
Zhou An’s tone was teasing, clearly poking fun on purpose.
It left Meng Bai thoroughly embarrassed.
“Let’s skip this topic.” She changed the subject, her gaze drifting to the end of the street. “I wonder what she’s up to right now.”
“Working overtime, probably.”
The words went in one ear and out the other as Meng Bai murmured to herself, “I wonder which building she lives in.”
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Zhou An protested. “Tomorrow, just have someone look into it. You’re Boss Meng now, the city’s famous entrepreneur! Tracking down one person should be a piece of cake.”
Meng Bai froze for a second, then snapped back to reality.
“You’re right. I can look her up. How did I not think of that?”
“Exactly, just look her up.” Zhou An gave her a puzzled look. “Why do you seem so weird about it?”
“Her household registry. Her family tree going back ten generations. How the hell she ended up in this world!!!”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Meng Bai whipped out her phone. “I’m doing it right now! Right this second!”
“It’s four-thirty in the morning. The roosters aren’t even up yet!”
Meng Bai shook her head, her voice trembling with excitement. “I don’t care. Wake them up! Fastest turnaround possible! Money’s no object!”
As the saying goes, money makes the world go round—especially at triple pay to some poor overworked soul desperate for sleep.
She made the call, and right away, someone promised to help and deliver results within the hour.
From there, the two of them found a bench and sat down. Exhaustion was setting in; they were both listless and done reminiscing. They simply sat shoulder to shoulder, waiting for Miao Bai’s background report.
Half an hour later, Meng Bai started obsessively checking the time on her phone. “Almost five o’clock. Is he even going to come through? If not, I’m switching people.”
No sooner had she spoken than Zhou An’s phone lit up with a ding. An email had arrived, titled: [Miao Bai Information.]
She opened it.
Ms. Miao.
Birthday: 1993.9.24
Address: Cold Cicada Apartment, Building 1, Unit 2208.
Education and Work: Graduated from N University’s Art Department. Currently a designer at Little Walnut Company.
Family Background: Orphan. No information on parents. (Couldn’t find a single trace of her parents, boss. I did my best.)
Social Background: No friends. Lives alone. Seems like a very lonely person.
Hobbies: Painting. An internet search turned up complaints from her college classmates about how she’d paint for three straight days without eating—a total study maniac.
Meng Bai’s eyes flew across the screen, her lips curving into a grin.
“Born in ’93? That makes her thirty now. September 24th? Who knew the day she vanished ten years ago would turn out to be her birthday?”
Zhou An jabbed a finger at the address. “Hey, shouldn’t you be focused on the fact that she lives in Cold Cicada Apartment?”
This time, Meng Bai burst out laughing. “You’re right. How could I forget? That’s pretty close to my place.”
