Chapter 19: If I Go Bald, Will You Still Love Me? (19)

But there were always people who, overestimating themselves, coveted his girl.

The boy's gaze shifted slightly; he could catch every trace of malice drifting from the room. The corner of his lips curled up.

What had Yao Yao said again?

“Return every curse you’ve placed on my boyfriend back to you.”

Shen Ji covered his face in embarrassment. Yao Yao had called him her boyfriend in front of so many people—if that wasn't claiming her territory, what was it?

Naturally, he should do as Yao Yao had said, so let every curse those people uttered return to them.

After evening study, Bai Yao was stopped by two people.

Bu Zhongyao, sporting a pair of dark circles under her eyes, looked exasperated as she dragged out the tall boy behind her. “No one’s trying to kill you anymore, can you stop being such a coward?”

It was Gu Yue Shuo. He had lost weight in just four days, and though it was the height of summer, he was wrapped in thick clothes, bundled up tightly. His face was pale, his expression tense, as if he saw danger in every shadow.

Bai Yao was startled by Gu Yue Shuo's appearance. “What happened to you?”

Gu Yue Shuo stammered, “B-Bai Yao… I-I’m so scared!”

Bai Yao couldn’t understand. “Isn’t it just losing a game and having to spend a night in the dark room? Is that really something to be so scared of?”

“It’s not about the dark room! I’m being haunted!” A cold night breeze made Gu Yue Shuo shiver all over. He, a grown man, now clung miserably to Bu Zhongyao, truly weak, pitiful, and helpless.

Bu Zhongyao rolled her eyes—she’d never seen anyone as chicken-hearted as this.

Gu Yue Shuo said, “Three days from now… the ghost is coming to take my life!”

Bai Yao asked, “What’s going on?”

“That night we watched a horror movie together, I got a creepy phone call. Ever since, I’ve been experiencing terrifying things: the shower turns to blood-red water, I throw up hair while eating, and I keep seeing a ghostly shadow behind me in the mirror…”

Gu Yue Shuo was clearly traumatized, on the verge of tears. “I just want to know if you’ve experienced anything like this?”

Bai Yao shook her head. “No.”

Hope lit up in Gu Yue Shuo’s eyes. “Bai Yao, you must have a way… some way to avoid these curses. Please, save me, help me!”

Bu Zhongyao quickly echoed, “Me too! I can’t sleep anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I feel someone standing at the foot of my bed. Zhao Yuan keeps appearing in my nightmares, demanding I find something for him. I can’t take it anymore!”

Bu Zhongyao pleaded, “Bai Yao, help us. If this keeps up, Gu Yue Shuo and I won’t survive…”

Gu Yue Shuo cried, “I don’t want to die! I’ve only ever dated once; I haven’t even met the beauties of the world!”

Bu Zhongyao wailed, “I’ve only ever dated once too, and I want to date more handsome guys!”

The more they spoke, the more despondent they became, until finally they clung to each other, sobbing—a pair of star-crossed, miserable souls.

One had to admit, they really were quite a match.

Frankly, Bai Yao felt their psychological stress had gotten the better of them, leading to wild imaginings. After all, there were no such things as ghosts in this world, were there?

Still, trying to reason with them now would probably get her nowhere. She believed that the best cure for a troubled mind was to treat the mind itself. So, she looked at Bu Zhongyao and said, “Since Zhao Yuan wants you to find something for him, just find it and give it to him. He’ll stop haunting you.”

She turned to Gu Yue Shuo. “If you say you’re cursed, then find out who cursed you and why. Once you locate the source, the problem will be solved.”

Bu Zhongyao shivered. “Bai Yao, you’re the bravest of us all.”

Gu Yue Shuo’s voice trembled. “So, can you help us look for it?”

Bai Yao turned to leave. “I don’t have time. You’ll have to do it yourselves.”

Bu Zhongyao dropped to her knees, hugging Bai Yao’s leg. “No, please, help me!”

Gu Yue Shuo knelt and hugged her other leg. “I don’t want to die, have mercy!”

Bai Yao was speechless.

Bu Zhongyao cried, “Bai Yao, from now on, I’ll be your loyal follower!”

Gu Yue Shuo added, “We’ll do whatever you say!”

“Your Majesty!” Bu Zhongyao exclaimed.

“Your Majesty!” Gu Yue Shuo echoed.

Together, they sobbed, “Save our worthless lives!”

The moment Bai Yao heard the words “Your Majesty,” she felt entirely at ease, folding her arms and casting a lofty glance down at the two weeping figures. She arched her brow and said, “Hmm, I’ll consider it.”

Because of Bu Zhongyao and Gu Yue Shuo’s persistent entreaties, Bai Yao returned to her dorm ten minutes later than usual. Tonight, the corridor lights were out again—most likely another power failure.

By the eerie green glow of the emergency exit sign, she made her way upstairs. Her foot landed on something soft. Looking down, she saw what looked like a small leg.

At the corner of the stairway stood a woman in a red dress. Her bangs were long, covering half her face. She seemed shy, pressed against the wall, not daring to look at Bai Yao.

Bai Yao noticed that, beneath her skirt, the woman had only one leg. Stooping, Bai Yao picked up the leg on the floor, brushed off the dust, and walked forward a few steps to hand it to the woman in red. “This is yours.”

The woman lifted her head slightly, likely glancing at Bai Yao, and with trembling hands took back her leg. She peeked at Bai Yao again, her pale ears tinged pink. One hand covered her face, the other gripped the severed leg as she turned and vanished into the darkness.

Bai Yao was astonished. This woman was certainly resilient—she could hop away so quickly on just one leg.

The prosthetic was remarkably realistic. Though it was cold to the touch, it felt just like real skin.

Bai Yao had always known there was a shy girl living next door. The girl rarely showed herself, and now Bai Yao understood why—she was probably disabled and self-conscious.

Unlike her upstairs neighbor, who often let water overflow while bathing, causing water stains to seep through Bai Yao’s old dorm ceiling. Such a lack of consideration.

Bai Yao pulled out her key and opened the dorm door. She pressed the light switch—nothing. The power was indeed out. She didn’t care, tossed her bag onto the bed, and was startled by a sudden, pained cry: “Ouch!”

She saw a human figure wriggling under her quilt. Raising her eyebrows, she walked over and lifted the blanket, revealing the familiar boy.

Shen Ji stretched out his arms as if to embrace the moonlight—or perhaps her. He beamed, “Yao Yao! Surprise!”

Bai Yao didn’t move; she simply scanned him from head to toe. He wore a plain white T-shirt, loose black shorts, and his feet were soft and fair.

Shen Ji obediently explained, “I showered before coming, and my clothes are clean.”

Only then did Bai Yao climb onto the bed, letting him pull her into his arms. Pinching his cheek, she asked, “What brings you here?”

Shen Ji replied, “I missed you, so you must be missing me too. I was afraid you couldn’t sleep, so I came to lull you.”

He sounded so assured.

Bai Yao assumed his clingy phase wasn’t over. She let him warm the bed while she went to wash up, changed into her nightdress, and then lay beside him.

Of course, she still felt that grown-up matters were too early for him, so under the covers, they simply chatted.

Shen Ji held her hand. “Yao Yao, do you want a bedtime story?”

Bai Yao closed her eyes. “Mm.”

He began, “Once upon a time, a princess was stranded on a deserted island…”

Bai Yao slapped him on the head. “I’m not listening to princess and sea monster stories.”

Shen Ji knew that a slap meant affection and a scold meant love. Delighted, he hugged her tighter. “Then I’ll tell another. Long ago, there was a mechanical bird made of wood. Everyone said it must be magical, that it must contain a treasure, that’s why it could fly, and would bring them fortune. So they locked it in a cage, not letting it fly away.”

“But the bird looked out the window every day, longing one day to fly free.”

“Much later, people had an idea: if they burned the mechanical bird, the treasure inside would surely be revealed in the fire’s glow.”

Bai Yao opened her eyes. “And then?”

Shen Ji continued, “The fire blazed, killing many people, but the treasure never appeared. Many years later, a girl walked through brambles and flowers, discovering the remains in the ashes—the mechanical bird, now only a body. She said, ‘How pitiful, a bird with burned wings.’”

“So she found the finest wood to carve new wings, made its eyes from black gemstones, washed away the charred smell with rose fragrance, polished its body with moonlight’s color. The bird became more beautiful than before, and could fly higher and faster. There seemed to be nothing in the world it couldn’t do.”

Bai Yao nestled in his arms, her face buried against his chest. In a muffled voice she asked, “Did he fly away?”

Shen Ji shook his head. “He only wanted to stay where the girl was—he didn’t want to leave.”

Bai Yao said no more; she must have drifted off.

Shen Ji lowered his head to kiss her hair, whispering, “Good night, Yao Yao.”

At two in the morning, clouds hid the moon, crows perched upon rooftops, and black fog engulfed the entire campus. In this suffocating air, countless people were startled awake.

Some screamed and ran from their dorms, only to be dragged back in by a strange force. The sickening sound of flesh being torn apart followed, and blood slowly seeped out beneath the door.

Some ran in panic to the school gate, banging on the security office for help. But the guard inside was dead asleep. The next second, the person knocking watched as their own head was twisted off in the reflection of the glass window.

Others hid in wardrobes, praying not to be found. But soon, water began to bead and drip around them, the wardrobe filling with water. They struggled to open the door, but twisted hands reached out of the darkness and dragged them under.

Some fled blindly to the rooftop, nowhere left to run, and knelt in desperation. “Please… spare me… spare me…”

The red-dressed ghost’s foot was attached the wrong way. In her hand she held a phone, tilting her head as she read a comment displayed on the screen: “It’d be best if that fool Shen Ji fell from the building and was left unrecognizable, hahaha!”

With a crack, her crooked head nearly fell off—she caught it just in time.

She looked at the boy begging for mercy, her deathly pale face twisting into a sinister smile.

In the next instant, the boy plummeted screaming from the rooftop, his face striking the ground, left beyond recognition.

…

In a warm, peaceful room, Bai Yao stirred in her sleep, on the verge of waking. The one holding her gently patted her back, humming a tuneless song in her ear.

It was the song she’d been asked to sing in music class not long ago.

Before long, her breathing grew soft and steady, and she drifted back to restful slumber, safe and enveloped in familiar comfort.

Shen Ji thought contentedly, What a beautiful night this is.