The room was tiny, its walls stark white, the lighting an unyielding white as well.
There were no windows, leaving the space dimly lit, furnished with nothing more than a single table and two chairs.
The silence in the room was profound, a stillness so absolute it bordered on unnerving.
Jiang Wan felt a deep sense of unease in this place.
Seated across from her was a woman.
The woman wore a blue-striped prison uniform, her shoulder-length hair hanging down as she kept her head bowed, her face hidden from view.
She looked terribly thin, the uniform hanging loosely on her frame.
Her hands rested on the table, shackled in handcuffs—pale and gaunt, with faint red marks visible around her wrists where the metal had chafed.
It was strange. Jiang Wan was certain she was dreaming, yet everything here felt so vividly real, as if she had lived through it herself.
The dream unfolded entirely beyond her control; she could only watch passively as it played out.
Then she heard her own voice speaking. “Do you feel any better today?”
The tone was gentle—not the perfunctory kindness she usually mustered, but a warmth that came straight from the heart.
It was her voice, yet not quite. The timbre was far more mature, stripped of the youthful edge she still carried.
Jiang Wan felt utterly bewildered.
In the next moment, the woman across from her slowly raised her head.
In that instant, it was as if the world shattered around Jiang Wan. Her mind went blank, thoughts evaporating entirely.
The woman was strikingly beautiful. Even with exhaustion etched into every line of her face, it could not diminish her stunning allure.
This face was familiar to Jiang Wan. Just last night, its owner had sat beside her on the bus.
Yet there were differences. The features here were sharper, more mature—devoid of the bold flamboyance Jiang Wan knew, replaced by a deathly numbness.
Her deep, narrow eyes were vacant and lifeless, like an overgrown grave—pale, desolate, devoid of any spark.
The woman seemed like a walking corpse, an empty shell with her soul long extinguished.
She looked so frail and pallid, as if a mere breeze could knock her over.
She bore no resemblance whatsoever to the brash Big Demon King from Jiang Wan’s memories.
“It’s no use,” the woman said, her words coming slowly. Her voice was hoarse from disuse, each syllable a laborious effort.
“Doctor Jiang, you can’t save a dead person.”
She said it lightly, as if there were nothing at all wrong with describing herself that way.
Doctor Jiang?
Was that… referring to her?
Jiang Wan couldn’t make sense of it. How could she possibly become a doctor? It had nothing to do with her career aspirations.
Her consciousness flickered between clarity and haze, preventing her from delving deeper. She could only endure the dream’s progression passively.
She sensed “her own” emotions surging wildly.
Heartache? Helplessness? Anger? Sorrow?
The feelings tangled together in a complex web, too muddled for Jiang Wan to disentangle.
“Her own self” was about to speak when a heavy knock sounded against the glass door.
Her heart lurched.
Jiang Wan jolted upright in bed, her pupils dilating as she gulped down air like a fish stranded on dry land.
She clutched her chest, her gaze slowly sweeping the surroundings.
It was her room.
Rhythmic knocking came from the door.
“Little Wan, are you up yet? Didn’t you say you were meeting a friend for lunch today?” It was Mother Jiang’s gentle voice.
Jiang Wan swallowed hard, stunned for a second before shouting back, “I’m up!”
She sat there on the bed in a daze. The vivid dream had already fragmented into scattered pieces. She closed her eyes, straining to piece it together, but all she could grasp were disjointed clues.
A cramped room. A woman. Handcuffs. A doctor. Bei… Bei Huai?
Her eyes snapped open. “What kind of ridiculous dream was that? Why did Bei Huai have to show up in it?”
She touched her chest, her expression puzzled.
Why on earth did a dream leave her heart aching like this?
She didn’t have time to dwell on it before Mother Jiang called out again, urging her along.
Jiang Wan responded while scrambling out of bed to wash up.
It was the weekend, and she had promised to treat Bei Huai to a meal—enough to make her skip shopping with Guanguan.
The thought of seeing Classmate Bei Huai soon filled Jiang Wan with irrepressible joy.
She flung open her closet and began rummaging carefully for something to wear.
She went through half the wardrobe without success.
This one was too outdated, that one too garish, another too plain, some made her look chubby, others too formal.
She held a dress up to herself in the mirror and sighed before tossing it onto the bed.
No, too flashy.
Why didn’t she have a single suitable outfit?
“Little Wan, I’ve never seen you put this much effort into dressing up just to go out with friends before,” Mother Jiang remarked as she sat nearby arranging flowers. She glanced at her daughter now and then, and seeing how conflicted she looked, she asked casually.
That offhand comment made Jiang Wan’s face turn bright red.
Seizing the moment when her mother wasn’t paying attention, she dashed to the bathroom. Staring at the girl in the mirror—almond eyes and rosy cheeks—she pursed her lips, feeling a little embarrassed.
Yeah, why did the mere thought of seeing Bei Huai make her want to dress up nicely without even realizing it?
Hmm, probably because deep down, she wanted Classmate Bei Huai to see her at her best.
After all, she was the friend Jiang Wan wanted to make.
Yeah, totally normal.
She told herself.
She had agreed to meet Bei Huai at Sheng Rong Plaza at ten o’clock.
In the end, Jiang Wan chose the long skirt she’d thought was too flashy.
She’d also forgotten to return the baseball cap Bei Huai had given her yesterday.
Mother Jiang had asked about it when she picked her up.
But by then, the bus had already driven off.
She grabbed a small bag and stuffed the hat inside too.
With a mix of anticipation and slight nervousness, Jiang Wan set off for the meeting spot.
The closer she got to the plaza, the more tense she felt, though she couldn’t quite say why. She saw Bei Huai at school all the time, after all.
When she arrived, she looked around but didn’t spot anyone.
It was still a few minutes before ten.
Figuring Bei Huai hadn’t arrived yet, she sat on a bench and waited patiently.
A few guys came over to chat her up during that time, but she turned them down politely and tactfully.
The minutes ticked by toward the appointed time.
Bei Huai still didn’t show.
The message she’d sent asking where she was sat alone in the chat, unanswered.
The girl pinched her fingers, unsure what to feel—mostly a vague disappointment and sense of loss.
Maybe Bei Huai had something urgent come up, or maybe she’d just forgotten the plans.
But right then, her phone buzzed.
It was a message from Bei Huai.
Tsundere Ghost: Something came up today. Next time.
It was a short sentence, no extra explanation. No matter what Jiang Wan sent after that, it was like tossing a stone into the sea—no reply.
But if she hadn’t happened to glimpse a certain figure heading down from the east side of the plaza, she might have gone home disappointed for real.
She stared at the figure, thought for a moment, then pulled out her phone and called Bei Huai.
The call rang for two seconds before it was abruptly hung up.
At the same time, she clearly saw the girl fish out her phone, frown, swipe it once, and shove it back in her pocket.
Whether it was curiosity about why Bei Huai had flaked or that weird dream still nagging at her, she instinctively chose to follow.
Afraid of being spotted, she kept a good distance.
Jiang Wan trailed the girl as she wound through twists and turns into an underground billiards hall.
Hiding behind the wall, she watched the girl walk straight toward a group of men who looked like serious trouble.
~~~
Today was the day Jiang Wan was treating her to lunch, so Bei Huai got up early.
She showered, washed her hair, and fussed over her appearance.
It had been ages since she’d put this much care into her makeup.
Staring at her head of red hair in the mirror, Bei Huai frowned in distaste.
She was thinking about finding time to dye it back.
She’d only gone with this color to piss off Yun Manzhu in the first place—it didn’t mean she actually liked the Kill Matt style.
Plus, walking around with Jiang Wan later? One good girl, one delinquent—they’d look totally mismatched, like they came from different worlds.
She didn’t want people gawking at her like a sideshow freak on the street.
She fiddled in front of the mirror a while longer. As time was running short, Bei Huai finally headed out.
On her way to the door, she doubled back for a silver star necklace—supposed to bring good luck.
But good luck or not, Bei Huai had no idea. All she knew was that nothing good had happened, and the bad stuff kept piling up.
She hadn’t been near the plaza long when one of Qin Xiang’s little bros blocked her path.
The tall, skinny guy grinned, but his attitude was rock-hard. “Sister Huai, fancy running into you here. Total coincidence—fate, right? Brother Qin’s downstairs playing pool. Come hang out?”
“Scram,” Bei Huai said coldly, spitting out the single word.
“Sister Huai, even if you won’t give me face, you gonna diss Brother Qin too?” The tall skinny guy’s expression shifted, though he kept smiling. His words carried a veiled threat.
Before Bei Huai could respond, he kept going. “And Sister Huai, last night in the dead of night, you went and beat the crap out of Akun. Don’t you owe Brother Qin an explanation?”
“Sister Huai, Brother Qin said if it’s a misunderstanding, we can all sit down, talk it out, clear the air. Can’t let bad blood fester and ruin the harmony, right…”
The guy had a real gift for gab, chattering on without end.
Under Bei Huai’s deathly glare, the guy’s voice gradually trailed off until it vanished completely.
“Hmph.” She let out a scoff without the slightest reservation. “Go back and tell Brother Qin it’s not a misunderstanding—I did it on purpose.”
Bei Huai’s unyielding stance irked the guy, but he didn’t dare confront her directly. Instead, he pulled out his phone to call his boss for backup.
Bei Huai shot him a disdainful glance and turned to leave. She hadn’t taken two steps before an unknown number flashed on her screen. She was about to hang up, but something made her pause, and she answered instead.
The guy watched in stunned silence as Bei Huai shifted from icy indifference at the start of the call to hanging up with a darkened expression.
The guy: …Boss is the real deal.
“Take me to Qin Xiang.” The words hissed through her clenched teeth, carrying a sharp edge of menace.
The guy shuddered, unable to meet her eyes, and meekly led the way ahead.
Bei Huai strode into the pool hall, her face set in a grim mask.
It was an abandoned underground spot, the kind no one bothered with anymore. A guy like Qin Xiang, who chased every luxury, would never slum it in a dump like this for a game of pool.
He had to be here specifically to wait for her.
And it was the perfect hideout for street toughs looking to throw down.
Qin Xiang lounged on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, drawing deeply on his cigarette as he grinned at her. “To see Sister Huai, I dragged myself out of the luxury VIP lounge and into this shithole.”
Bei Huai’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t go calling me sister. I don’t have a scruffy little brother like you.”
Qin Xiang’s grin faltered for a split second before snapping back into place. He waved a hand, signaling his fidgety little bros to stand down.
“Bei Huai, let’s cut the bullshit. We’ve always stayed out of each other’s way, but yesterday you beat the hell out of one of my guys for no reason. Care to explain?”
“He had it coming.” Even surrounded by over a dozen burly men, Bei Huai didn’t lose an ounce of her edge. If anything, she grew bolder, more domineering.
“Say that shit again, you bitch?!” The black-clad guy couldn’t hold back anymore. He glared at Bei Huai with raw fury, looking ready to tear her apart.
It was no surprise—he was seething because it was his brother who’d taken the beating.
“Ading.” Qin Xiang turned his head, his voice a sharp warning.
The black-clad guy clenched his jaw, fighting his rage, but ultimately obeyed.
After dressing down his underling, Qin Xiang locked eyes with the girl’s cold stare and forced a smile. “Our paths don’t cross when it comes to business, so I did some thinking. This has to be about a girl, right?”
He caught the flicker across her face, and his smile widened.
“Bei Huai, oh Bei Huai—you’re still too young for this game. Guys like us can’t afford soft spots.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Exposing your weakness over some girl? When did you turn into such a fool, Bei Huai?”
As her expression darkened, Qin Xiang threw his head back and laughed.
“You can’t blame me for this, Bei Huai. You practically gift-wrapped your weakness and handed it over.”
“What the hell do you want?” Bei Huai balled her fists, her face twisting with barely contained fury.
“What do I want? You already know, Bei Huai. So, how about it—ready to team up?” Qin Xiang smiled, brimming with confidence.
“No chance in hell.”
Throw her lot in with scum like him? Not a snowball’s chance.
The blunt rejection finally chilled Qin Xiang’s gaze.
“You think you’re in any position to say no, Bei Huai?” He hadn’t really counted on luring her here, but damn if he wasn’t grateful to that little Miss Jiang. A bit of prodding, and she’d walked right into his trap.
Hemmed in by the crowd, a flicker of panic crossed Bei Huai’s face. She gritted her teeth, glaring daggers at the smug Qin Xiang, and finally caved.
“Let me… think it over.” She lowered her gaze, her voice thick with reluctance.
“Don’t try anything funny.” Qin Xiang eyed her warily.
“I’m standing right here. What tricks could I possibly pull?” Bei Huai managed a bitter smile.
Qin Xiang mulled it over and nodded. He wasn’t worried about her calling the cops—they both had rap sheets for brawls. And right now, they weren’t fighting; they were just having a “friendly” game of pool. No cameras in this hole—who could prove otherwise?
Worst case, they cool their heels in a cell for a few days, walk out free as birds, though it’d make them blood enemies for sure.
The place was off the beaten path; impossible to find without a guide. Plus, he’d had Mingzi tail her the whole way—no sign she’d reached out to anyone.
“Hmph. Then make it quick. I don’t have all day.” Qin Xiang relaxed, sinking back into the sofa amid swirling clouds of smoke.
Bei Huai rubbed her chin, lost in thought.
Just as Qin Xiang was on the verge of losing his patience, Bei Huai clapped her hands, her expression grave. “I’ve made up my mind.”
All eyes locked onto her. The girl flashed a smile. “Team up with a loser like you? Go get some sleep. You can have anything you want in your dreams.”
“Fuck! Bei Huai, you goddamn bitch—how dare you mess with me?” This was the response he’d gotten, and Qin Xiang exploded in rage.
His little bros gnashed their teeth and closed in on Bei Huai.
But in the next instant, a billiard ball nearly smashed right into Qin Xiang’s head.
“Damn it! Qin Dogshit, you tired of living? You dare curse our Sister Huai?” A sharp, feminine voice rang out from behind them.
Everyone whipped around to see a girl with a killer figure perched atop the pool table.
She wore tiny shorts, sported a head of brown curls, and had on heavy makeup that made her look sultry and wild.
“Brothers and sisters, let’s go!” she shouted, and a crowd of people poured out from behind her.
Qin Xiang ground his teeth and smacked one of his little bros upside the head. “Didn’t you tell me she hadn’t contacted anyone the whole way here? Where the hell did these assholes come from?!”
Mingzi looked utterly aggrieved. “I… I don’t know!”
Bei Huai sneered. “You really thought I’d be that stupid and come unprepared? Some people are just born idiots. It’s hopeless.”
With a sharp smack, a filthy shoe smacked Qin Xiang right in the face.
“Woo-hoo! Bullseye!” Tong Baifeng clapped her hands in delight.
“Big Sis, if you’re so badass, use your own shoe! Why grab mine? Ah, whatever—I don’t want it back anyway. His face is too filthy.” Qu Tao rubbed his buzzed head, his face twisted in disgust.
Qin Xiang: “…”
I nearly spat up a mouthful of blood.
They weren’t even treating people like people anymore!
The brawl erupted in an instant.
Though Bei Huai’s group was short on numbers, they fought like absolute wildcats.
Tong Baifeng snatched up a pool cue with flair and brought it down hard. The guy on the receiving end clutched his groin, writhing on the floor in agony and questioning his entire existence.
Qu Tao swallowed hard and quietly edged away from the man-eating flower.
Bei Huai more than held her own against two at once, effortlessly gaining the upper hand.
But numbers eventually told. As time dragged on, they began to flag.
Just as Bei Huai racked her brain for a way to break the stalemate, the piercing wail of police sirens cut through the air.
“Holy shit, who called the cops?”
“How the hell should I know!”
“Was it you guys?!”
“Bullshit!”
“…”
Everyone froze in confusion. After all, there was an unwritten rule in their circles: personal beefs got settled privately, so long as no one ended up dead.
No one noticed Ading lurking in the corner as he crept closer to Bei Huai, venom flashing in his eyes.
He suddenly swung a pool cue high and brought it crashing down.
“Sister Huai!” Tong Baifeng cried out in horror, but she was too far away to intervene. All she could do was watch in helpless terror.
Sensing the incoming danger, Bei Huai threw up her arm to block on instinct. She was a split-second too slow, but at least she’d shielded her head—her arm was the one that would pay the price.
One second. Two seconds. The anticipated pain never came.
Bei Huai spun around and kicked Ading flying. Only then did she see the girl who had no business being there, standing protectively in front of her, clutching her forearm with a face as white as a sheet.
“Fuck,” she spat.
