The kiss lasted far longer than Meng Bai had imagined—so long, in fact, that Meng Xingzhong outside the door ran out of patience and knocked again.
Meng Bai had lost herself in the lingering tenderness, but she forced herself to pull away.
Miao Bai’s fragrance faded from her lips.
Panting, Meng Bai said, “I’m going to take a shower, or my dad really will get mad.”
“Okay.”
Meng Bai’s heart pounded as she opened the door. Meng Xingzhong stood right there, and curiosity got the better of him as he peered into the room.
Of course, he saw nothing.
“What’s going on? Why’s your face so red!”
Dodging his gaze, Meng Bai mumbled, “It’s hot. Stuffy. Didn’t open the window.”
Meng Xingzhong gave her a once-over. “Go on, then. Shower time.”
Lin Li had already heated the bathwater for her. The adults always insisted the kids go first with everything—even bathing.
Meng Bai hauled a bucket of hot water off to wash up.
She didn’t want to keep Miao Bai waiting too long, so she hurried through her routine.
She stripped quickly, but paused when she spotted the marks on her underwear.
A physiological reaction?
She’d covered it in biology class, but nothing quite this… specific.
So what was it?
She had no idea, only that it had happened during the kiss with Miao Bai.
Intense. Unfamiliar. Shamefully so.
No time to dwell on it—Meng Bai lathered up and scrubbed it all away.
The autumn night breeze was cool, leaving her feeling even more refreshed once she’d washed herself spotless.
She emerged from the kitchen to find Lin Li waiting.
Lin Li glanced at her and smiled. “Why so happy? You’re grinning from ear to ear while you walk.”
“Am I?”
Lin Li nodded. “Ever since you got back. Or maybe just after your shower.”
Meng Bai tried to school her expression, but the bubbling joy was impossible to contain.
“I—” Her face was definitely flushing again; she could feel herself smiling. Giving up, she nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been in a pretty good mood lately.”
“Dating someone?” Lin Li cut straight to it.
“No! No way!”
Lin Li’s brows smoothed out. “Sounds like you’ve got a crush, then.”
“Nope.” Meng Bai’s face twisted awkwardly. She couldn’t even meet Lin Li’s eyes—guilt won out in seconds. “Okay, fine. Maybe. But don’t tell my dad.”
“A classmate?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Hard to explain. After graduation, okay?”
Always after graduation.
Lin Li nodded. “Fair enough. Get some sleep.”
Meng Xingzhong looked worn out too and didn’t try to chat. After such a hectic day, everyone was ready to crash.
Wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt, Meng Bai slipped into the room. Miao Bai lay on the bed, watching her every move.
After what had just happened, Meng Bai’s emotions still churned. Meeting Miao Bai’s gaze made her cheeks burn.
“Come here.” Miao Bai patted the bed.
“Coming—”
Meng Bai padded over in her slippers, the rubber soles squeaking against the damp floor.
When she reached the bedside, Miao Bai held out a hand. Meng Bai took it.
Guided by the gentle pull, Meng Bai knelt beside the bed as Miao Bai lifted the quilt, inviting her to lie down.
Meng Bai obeyed without a word.
She nestled back into Miao Bai’s arms, her senses flooded with that familiar fragrance. Satisfaction washed over her.
She hugged Miao Bai close and said nothing.
The night was utterly still—not even a whisper of wind.
Eventually, Meng Bai stirred. “Miao Bai… did anyone die in town twenty years ago?”
“Someone dies here every year,” Miao Bai replied.
“I mean unnatural. Like a murder.”
Meng Bai expected an answer, but only silence stretched on.
“You know something, don’t you?” She rolled over to study Miao Bai’s face. “You know everything, right?”
“Mmm.”
“Who? Can you tell me?”
“No.”
Meng Bai frowned. “Why can’t I know anything?”
It felt like a dead-end road, always blocked at the crucial turn. Miao Bai wouldn’t say. Xu Qin wouldn’t say.
“Meng Bai… do you know why I exist in this world?”
A flicker of unease stirred in Meng Bai’s chest. This was the first time Miao Bai had brought it up.
“No.”
“You know I shouldn’t exist.”
A pause. “But I do. I’m not human—you could call me an accident, a fluke.”
Meng Bai listened in silence, unsure why Miao Bai was saying this.
“And then?”
“Then one day, I’ll vanish. After I finish… this.”
“This?”
Meng Bai grasped it dimly.
No, she understood.
“So your purpose is to handle this thing—whatever it is. The thing I’m caught up in, right?”
“Mmm. You’re sharp.”
“But something’s keeping you from telling me why.”
“Right.”
“Fine.” Meng Bai accepted it, however reluctantly.
Silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
After a moment, Meng Bai pressed, “Still… twenty years ago. Someone was murdered, weren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Brutal?”
“Very.”
Meng Bai drew a sharp breath, a chill crawling up her spine.
A suspicion crystallized in her mind—a hunch.
Miao Bai was here for revenge.
The thought of her one day disappearing left Meng Bai with a quiet ache.
“Tired?”
“A little.”
“Then sleep.”
Exhaustion dragged at her. Meng Bai’s eyelids drooped, heavy as lead.
She was already drifting into sleep, barely registering Miao Bai’s faint words…
~~~
The next day was Saturday.
By the school’s schedule, Meng Bai had remedial classes.
But when Meng Bai slung her backpack over her shoulder, ready to head out, Meng Xingzhong looked thoroughly displeased.
“Aren’t you the one who said you weren’t going?”
Meng Bai swung her crossbody bag around to her waist, already turning toward the door. “I’ve changed my mind. I want to go.”
“I’m not okay with that.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. There are tons of people at this tutoring session. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Right on cue, a knock sounded from the door—Zhou An’s voice calling out.
“Meng Bai! Meng Bai, you’re coming to tutoring, right?”
Meng Bai arched her eyebrows. “You bet!”
Feeling Meng Xingzhong’s gaze boring into her back, she turned around. “Dad, seriously, relax. Zhou An and I are plenty street-smart.”
This was all part of the scheme she and Zhou An had hatched together.
There was no way she was missing Saturday’s tutoring. They were still convinced Zhang Gou had organized the whole thing for some hidden agenda.
Same old bus. Same route. Same abandoned normal school.
No different from last time.
Amid the crowd, whispers rippled through. “You hear about Uncle Zhang yesterday?”
“What a massive mix-up.”
“That was Meng Bai’s dad, right—” The speaker shot a quick glance her way.
Meng Bai stared straight back, and the girl hastily looked away.
Class monitor Li Yue steered the conversation elsewhere. “Don’t you think it’s weird they’re splitting the boys and girls for tutoring?”
“Totally.”
“Can’t quite pin it down, but yeah, super off.”
“Hey! Hey!” Someone’s voice pitched up excitedly. “Teacher Zhou!”
Zhou Yizheng, the math tutor. The first time Meng Bai and her friends laid eyes on him, he’d rubbed them the wrong way—seemed way too brooding.
But now that they suspected some link to Xu Qin, that nagging gut feeling of unease had evaporated.
“So handsome—”
“Tell me about it.”
This was the first time Meng Bai had really sized him up. On looks alone, he was genuinely striking.
Pale skin, delicate features.
How delicate? More fresh-faced than your average sixteen-year-old girl.
Clean-cut—that was Meng Bai’s highest praise for his appearance.
He had a thing for button-down shirts, it seemed. Last time, it had been a white one—crisp, immaculate, tall and lean. No surprise the girls were swooning.
“But he does nothing for me,” Xu Zhou drawled lazily.
Meng Bai nodded. “Same here.”
Zhou An flicked a glance at Xu Zhou, then echoed like a broken record: “Yeah, yeah, same.”
Zhou Yizheng stepped into the group and instantly became the center of attention. A cluster of girls swarmed him, chatting him up, and he responded with easy warmth.
Watching his retreating back, Meng Bai suddenly piped up. “So, how’s his teaching? I totally zoned out last time.”
Zhou An let out an awkward chuckle. “As if I paid attention either.”
Xu Zhou stayed quiet. She walked sandwiched between Meng Bai and Zhou An, neither of them bridging the gap with small talk. They were both honoring their earlier pact—no interacting for the time being.
Which left Meng Bai perfectly happy to play the oreo cream filling.
Not that she thought they needed to bother.
The morning was nothing but math. Zhou Yizheng passed out test papers for them to tackle, then reviewed the answers.
Every question was a College Entrance Exam practice problem. Meng Bai skimmed them once: child’s play.
She wasn’t bragging. Math was her wheelhouse; she had real talent for cracking problems.
A few swift strokes of the pen, and she’d nailed the optimal solution. These were barely a warm-up.
Twenty minutes ticked by, heads bowed over papers all around, while Meng Bai slipped into a daze.
Her eyes drifted to Zhou Yizheng, studying him intently. Really studying.
She kept hoping to unearth some secret about him.
Pale. He was so pale.
Freakishly so, under the light.
Meng Bai pondered what kind of guy ended up with skin like that—like he’d wandered straight out of a comic or TV screen.
Staring too long must’ve tipped him off. Their eyes locked.
Zhou Yizheng nodded. Then, improbably, he smiled at her—a full-toothed grin that should’ve radiated sunshine. But there was a shadow in his eyes, evoking a rainy day for Meng Bai.
The sort of endless, dreary drizzle.
Unsure how to react, she just nodded back.
Then it was heads-down problem time.
Pens scratched across paper, graphs unfolding in her mind to yield answers. Halfway through jotting one down, a fat blob of black ink oozed from her ballpoint, splattering the white sheet. Meng Bai smeared at it—and suddenly her heart slammed in her chest. She jerked her head up on instinct, eyes fixing on the lectern.
There stood a boy, drenched in blood.
Sizzle—
Something burrowed into her skull, electric.
Meng Bai blinked.
The bizarre pull snapped away.
Zhou An’s voice cut in beside her. “What’re you doing?”
Meng Bai jolted fully back to reality. “No idea.”
“You’ve been spacing out forever.” Zhou An passed her a tissue. “Your face is ghost-white. Sweating bullets too.”
Meng Bai glanced down. No ink stain on the paper. Total hallucination.
What the hell?
Up front, Zhou Yizheng cleared his throat. “Everyone finished? Hands up if you are.”
Most of the class shot up their hands. Meng Bai realized hers was blank.
Not a single problem solved.
She raised it anyway.
