Meng Bai’s head was spinning, the hallucination she’d just experienced leaving her with a wave of physical nausea.
To be honest, she’d been frightened.
Zhou An was trying to comfort her, babbling something incoherent.
Meng Bai rubbed her temples and frowned. “Zhou An, I don’t feel well.”
“Hm?”
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
“What?!”
Even as she blurted it out, Zhou An shot her hand into the air. Zhou Yizheng glanced over. “Teacher Zhou, Meng Bai feels sick! I’m taking her to the bathroom!”
“Go on.”
Xu Zhou couldn’t stay seated in the back row. She thrust her own hand up. “I need the bathroom too! Mind if I tag along?”
The three of them slipped out of the classroom. Zhou An supported Meng Bai on one side, Xu Zhou on the other, half-carrying her weakened frame down the hall.
“Still feeling rough?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened? You just keeled over like that.” Zhou An felt Meng Bai’s palm. “Look at you—drenched in cold sweat. Skip breakfast? Low blood sugar?”
Meng Bai winced. “You want the truth? Don’t freak out.”
Xu Zhou and Zhou An held their breath, nodding in sync.
“I think I saw something… unclean.”
“What the hell?” Zhou An recoiled. “Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony—don’t you dare pull that ghost story crap!”
“I’m not sure, but there was a boy covered in blood standing at the podium. Blink, and he was gone.”
Xu Zhou’s scalp prickled. She knew Meng Bai wasn’t one for pranks.
“I was staring at my test paper when a drop of black ink splattered on the white sheet. My stomach dropped, and I glanced up at the front—and there he was, drenched in blood, staring right at me.”
“Oh god, stop!” Zhou An scrubbed her cheeks, face paling. “You’ve just been stressed out lately, that’s all!”
Xu Zhou rubbed Meng Bai’s back. “Breathe easy. In and out.”
Meng Bai fell silent. The moment she shut her eyes, the image flared in her mind, vivid and unrelenting. She had no idea why it had happened, but chills wracked her body against her will.
“So cold—” She tilted her head skyward. The sun blazed overhead, its halo mocking her with false warmth.
“You’re not looking good. Head home?” Zhou An’s voice sharpened with concern, sensing something truly off. “Screw the makeup lesson.”
“Wait.” Meng Bai massaged her temples again. “I can feel it now—something circling me.”
Xu Zhou’s face tightened. “Like… something supernatural? A ghost?”
“No.”
Meng Bai twisted around. The long corridor stretched empty behind them, silent as a tomb—yet she felt an insistent pull on her attention, just like before.
Pain lanced through her temples.
A forceful magnetic pull throbbed in her skull.
Fear bloomed in Meng Bai’s chest. For the first time, real terror gripped her. One thought dominated her mind: If only Miao Bai were here.
“Little Meng! What now?!” Zhou An’s voice cracked with genuine alarm.
Meng Bai’s face had gone ashen, paper-white, beads of cold sweat trickling from her hairline.
To anyone watching, her expression screamed raw terror.
“Damn it, she’s possessed!” Zhou An pressed her palms together, muttering frantically. “Amitabha, Amitabha…”
“Quit praying.” Xu Zhou clapped Zhou An’s shoulder. “She’s passing out!”
Meng Bai felt herself go light as air. As her body pitched backward, Zhou An and Xu Zhou lunged to catch her.
She could hear Zhou An calling her name, feel Xu Zhou slapping her cheeks—but her eyelids wouldn’t budge.
Her world spun wildly, flipping end over end.
So dizzy.
In the haze of those fading seconds, Miao Bai’s voice pierced through.
“Meng Bai—”
“Hang on.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m here.”
Then, with a sharp buzz, darkness claimed her.
~~~
When Meng Bai’s eyes fluttered open again, she was lying somewhere pitch-black.
She started to sit up, but Miao Bai’s voice stopped her. “Awake?”
“Miao Bai.” Meng Bai groped through the darkness until her fingers found Miao Bai’s hand. Only then did her racing heart begin to settle. “It’s so dark. Where am I?”
“My house. Don’t be scared.”
“Can we turn on the light?”
“Sure.” Miao Bai’s tone stayed even. “Give me a second to get dressed.”
“Wait—you’re not wearing anything?” Meng Bai trailed her fingers up Miao Bai’s arm. Miao Bai tugged away slightly.
Rustling followed—clothes, apparently. She really hadn’t been wearing any.
Meng Bai stared into the inky ceiling, her cheeks warming.
Moments later, the bedroom light flickered on.
Miao Bai stood right there before her, raven hair cascading loosely, her fair skin lending an ethereal clarity to her striking features. Meng Bai’s tension melted away in an instant.
Miao Bai had that effect—pure safety.
“How did I end up here? What about Zhou An and Xu Zhou?”
“They went home.” Miao Bai gently swept the stray hairs from Meng Bai’s forehead. “I’ll get you back before evening. Promise.”
The steady cadence of her voice chased away the last shadows of fear.
Miao Bai was Meng Bai’s lifeline, her anchor. No matter the chaos, Miao Bai’s presence meant safety.
A sudden ache for comfort welled up in Meng Bai. She slipped a hand from under the covers and whispered, “Hold me.”
Her voice carried a soft, pleading lilt.
Miao Bai didn’t hesitate. She leaned down, her slender arms encircling Meng Bai’s shoulders, drawing her close.
Meng Bai melted into the embrace, spilling out the terror of the makeup lesson.
“I felt awful. Hallucinations, too. No clue why.”
“Just a fluke.” Miao Bai patted her shoulder soothingly.
Meng Bai shivered at the memory. “I saw a little boy.”
“I know.” Never had Miao Bai sounded so tender.
“He was bleeding everywhere. I was terrified.” Even now, Meng Bai’s voice quavered.
Miao Bai let out a long sigh, her hands cupping over Meng Bai’s eyes—as if shielding her from the cruelty of it all.
“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”
Miao Bai longed to dismiss it as a one-off accident, but any real explanation would unravel too much. Instead, she shifted gears. “Still cold?”
“Cold.”
“You were even colder just now,” Miao Bai said, gripping Meng Bai’s hand tightly. “Your whole body felt like a block of ice.”
Only then did Meng Bai remember that when she had first woken up, Miao Bai had been getting dressed.
Could it be that Miao Bai hadn’t been wearing any clothes just now…
“Why weren’t you wearing clothes? Did you take yours off to hug me—” Meng Bai couldn’t finish the thought. “Uh—”
She had expected Miao Bai to deny it, but all she got in response was silence.
“Ah…” Meng Bai curled up under the covers and rolled over uneasily. It was then that she realized she wasn’t wearing much herself.
Just a thin T-shirt, no pants on her lower half—her legs completely bare.
“Did we… do something just now?”
“No.” Miao Bai’s voice sounded a little parched. “You were just too cold, so I held you for a bit.”
Meng Bai’s toes curled up in tension. “What kind of hold?”
She wondered if it had been the sort where neither of them wore a stitch. If so, it was a shame she’d been asleep for it.
Of course, Miao Bai had no idea about any of these little schemes running through her head.
In Miao Bai’s eyes, she was probably still nothing more than a pure, innocent eighteen-year-old student.
“Enough with all the questions.” Miao Bai patted her cheek, as if to chase away any further fantasies. “You’ve been through a lot today. Just rest.”
Meng Bai couldn’t let it go. “So what did I see, then? A hallucination? Or was it real?”
“Neither.” A flicker of hesitation passed through Miao Bai’s eyes, but she let it drop without explanation. “Forget it. Think about something else—something happy.”
“Fine.” Meng Bai closed her eyes, but the boy’s face immediately swam back into her mind, forcing her to open them again. “Miao Bai, I can’t. It’s like I’m haunted. Every time I shut my eyes, there he is—that little boy.”
Miao Bai let out a sigh. “Come here.”
Meng Bai’s attention snapped to her instantly. She loved hearing those two words from Miao Bai’s lips.
She threw back the covers, not caring that her legs were on full display, and scooted toward her.
“What for? Why do you want me over there?” Meng Bai asked, though she knew perfectly well.
Miao Bai met her gaze, her eyes gleaming. “To do something else. To take your mind off it.”
Meng Bai couldn’t withstand that look. It was mesmerizing, like a hook pulling her inexorably closer.
She stared at Miao Bai’s lips, so near now—perfectly shaped, tempting her to take a bite.
Without warning, heat flooded Meng Bai’s chest. She knelt in front of Miao Bai and reached up, her hands sliding around her neck.
Miao Bai went along with it, her own arms wrapping around Meng Bai’s waist.
Then, driven by some impulse she couldn’t explain, Meng Bai swung a leg over and settled right onto Miao Bai’s lap.
Both of them froze for a heartbeat.
In the dim light, Meng Bai could clearly see a subtle shift in Miao Bai’s expression.
“I…” Meng Bai stammered, suddenly desperate to explain. “I didn’t mean—I don’t even know how I—”
Miao Bai cut in. “I don’t recall asking.”
They were so close that Meng Bai could feel the rhythm of Miao Bai’s breath as they spoke.
It was quickening.
But when Meng Bai checked her own pulse, her heart was pounding even faster.
Gazing into Miao Bai’s eyes, all her fear simply melted away.
As long as Miao Bai was here in the world with her, what did she have to be afraid of?
“Miao Bai, when I was the most scared today, all I could think was how much I wished you were right there beside me.”
“Mm. And then?”
“And then, even when my head was all foggy, I heard your voice.”
“So?”
“One second I was terrified out of my mind, but the moment I thought of you, it didn’t seem so bad anymore. Nothing could scare me. Well, not really—everything’s fine as long as you’re there.”
Everything hinged on that one truth: as long as Miao Bai was there.
Even if the world really did hold supernatural horrors—even ghosts—she wouldn’t be afraid, not if she could just think of Miao Bai.
Meeting Miao Bai had already been the most unbelievable thing imaginable. And the unbelievable always came hand in hand with more wonders.
Maybe God had brought her to Miao Bai as payment for dragging her into all these bizarre, outlandish events that ordinary people never encountered.
Their breaths mingled in the air between them, hot and clear.
Miao Bai asked softly, “What if everything you went through… was connected to me?”
“Oh, so what?”
Miao Bai closed her eyes. “You’ve never been afraid of me. Not once.”
Meng Bai leaned in a little closer, fixated on those lips, the scorching warmth of Miao Bai’s breath making her pulse race wildly.
“Sometimes, when I get this close… I’m a little scared,” Meng Bai admitted with a smile. “Not because you might be a ghost or a god or anything. Just scared you might push me away.”
Miao Bai’s breathing grew unsteady. In a quiet voice, she murmured, “Have I ever?”
“Never, as far as I know.” Meng Bai inched forward.
They were so close now—just one centimeter more, and their lips would meet.
Meng Bai held still, saying nothing.
The hand on her waist slipped away gently. Then, in the next instant, Miao Bai closed the distance, her lips brushing the corner of Meng Bai’s mouth.
That fleeting touch was enough. Meng Bai’s hands clenched tight, fisting into Miao Bai’s clothes.
Miao Bai’s lips were so sweet.
Until now, they had never gone further than this.
Their embraces were always restrained, their kisses no different. Storms might rage inside her, but on the surface, everything stayed calm and collected—Miao Bai had never lost control, not in her presence.
But this time felt different. At least the pressure of this kiss carried a little more weight than usual.
It ignited something primal in Meng Bai, a raw hunger to draw even closer, to claim more of Miao Bai. Seizing the moment, she darted her tongue out tentatively, chasing that unique taste.
Her tongue tip flicked upward, teasing past Miao Bai’s defenses—and true to her word, Miao Bai never pushed her away.
Miao Bai’s lips parted just enough to welcome her in, green as she was.
The heat of Meng Bai’s tongue grazed those lips before delving deeper, until they met Miao Bai’s own. It was like a scalding jolt to her heart. Her blood thundered through her veins like a ravenous beast battering at its cage, swelling pressure pounding at her temples until she was all but lost to it.
Her breath caught. Fire bloomed low in her belly.
She had no strength left. She was falling.
Miao Bai gently held her, breaking off the kiss just as Meng Bai’s head began to spin and she felt on the verge of going silly from it all.
Meng Bai opened her eyes, still craving more. “Why’d you stop?”
“I thought you were about to run out of air.”
“I wasn’t.” Meng Bai pressed her lips together, as if savoring Miao Bai’s taste.
She gazed at Miao Bai, leaning in for another kiss.
Miao Bai stopped her. “It’s getting late.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Be good.”
“I want to stay with you.” Meng Bai looped her arms around Miao Bai’s neck and refused to let go.
Miao Bai looked down with a laugh—only to catch sight of Meng Bai’s long, slender legs.
“Do my legs look good?” Meng Bai asked.
Miao Bai hadn’t expected the question and was suddenly at a loss for words.
“If you say they do, I’d be pretty happy.”
“They look good,” Miao Bai said.
“I’m happy now.” Meng Bai’s lips curved into a smile. “If they look good, why not give them a touch?”
Miao Bai: “…”
Sometimes she would toss out a line like that, leaving no room for reply. Miao Bai even suspected Meng Bai was doing it on purpose—why else would she be grinning so delightedly?
“Alright.” Meng Bai turned serious. “While I’m in a good mood, can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“We’ve kissed so many times now. Does that make me your girlfriend?” Being the meticulous sort, Meng Bai added, “I don’t mean just a female friend—your girlfriend.”
Miao Bai didn’t hesitate for even half a second. “Yes.”
“Then you’re my first love,” Meng Bai said. “But I’m not yours.”
Miao Bai found herself stumped again. This girl had a real knack for throwing curveballs.
“So what do we do?” Miao Bai asked patiently.
“It’s nothing major. But can you like me even more?”
Miao Bai nodded. “I can.”
Meng Bai beamed at the answer she’d been hoping for. She cupped Miao Bai’s face, all traces of her former timidity gone. She studied Miao Bai’s features, watched her expression, and after a few seconds, broke into a grin.
“You can’t forget me, either.”
Miao Bai nodded calmly. “Of course not.”
“Even if one day you vanish—even if you turn to dust and scatter into the air of this world—you still can’t forget me. Because I’ll never forget you.”
Meng Bai knew she was spinning some contrived what-if scenario, but she just had to say it.
Truth be told, she hadn’t said enough. She wanted to tell Miao Bai how much she liked her—liked her so very much—that she couldn’t bear the thought of Miao Bai disappearing, of this feeling one day reaching a point where Miao Bai no longer existed, leaving her as the one forgotten.
But she didn’t dare. She couldn’t make the moment so heavy and sad.
So she played it off lightly, telling Miao Bai instead:
Don’t forget. Whatever you do, don’t forget.
“Feeling happier now?” Miao Bai asked.
“Much happier.” Meng Bai planted another quick peck on her cheek. “Now when I close my eyes, all I see is our kiss from just now. Nothing else.”
