Chapter 29: If I Lose My Hair, Will You Still Love Me? (29)

The figure laughed again. “I’m in a good mood today, so I won’t ask you for a price. I’ll only ask you a very simple question. If you can answer it, I’ll grant your wish.”

Was there really such a good thing?

Song Ming looked up, his eyes full of hope. “What’s the question?”

“A person has two hands and two legs. So, what is two plus two?”

Such a simple question?

The answer slipped from Song Ming’s lips. “Two plus two is four!”

He smiled. “Wrong.”

Song Ming was stunned. “Wrong?”

In the darkness, the figure by the window chuckled. “Two plus two can also be three.”

While Song Ming was still dazed, he suddenly felt a chill on his right thigh. His body tipped and he collapsed to the ground.

In the shadows, he saw one of his legs separated from him, torn apart like a broken marionette.

He smelled his own blood, lying in a pool of it, and only then did Song Ming realize what had happened. His pupils dilated and his whole body trembled.

The dark figure drew nearer. “Of course, two plus two can also be two.”

A series of snapping sounds followed, and his left leg slowly separated from his body in a grotesque fashion—the skin and flesh tearing first, then the bones snapping.

This slow method only heightened his terror.

Song Ming opened his mouth to scream, but not a sound came out. As the figure approached, the smell of burning flesh became stronger, the air scorching hot, blistering the skin on his face.

“Did you ever, while thinking of my Yaoyao, secretly use this hand for yourself?”

Song Ming’s right hand was pinned hard to the ground under a foot. From blood loss, his face was white as paper, even breathing was a struggle. Fear twisted his features, his face pressed against the scalding floor, unable to move, only his eyes rolling upward.

When he finally saw the person’s face, Song Ming’s terror reached its peak. “Shen… Shen Ji…”

Shen Ji’s lips curled into a childlike smile, his tone friendly. “I understand. Yaoyao is so wonderful—everyone wants her. But what can you do? She only likes me.”

The sound of bones cracking echoed through the sweltering art room, as if playing a wicked symphony.

Shen Ji grinned wider. “You know, sometimes two plus two can also be zero.”

In Song Ming’s fear-widened eyes, red flames flickered. In his gaze, the boy’s skin slowly split down the middle, transforming into a terrifying figure engulfed in fire.

No facial features could be seen; the charred body was covered in fissures, flames seeming to burn within the cracks, or perhaps molten lava flowing through them. This grotesque, inhuman appearance resembled a demon crawling straight from the depths of hell.

Song Ming could feel the agony of his limbs being torn apart, the stench of his own burning flesh. He could no longer hold back and, with the last of his strength, let out a scream of pure torment.

In the night, a brief flash of fire appeared and vanished in the deepest room on the fourth floor of the main building, as if it had been only an illusion.

At one in the morning, the world was silent.

Bai Yao had long since lain down, half asleep. In her drowsiness, she sensed movement beside her—the mattress dipped slightly, and someone slipped under the covers. She turned, expressionless, to look at the intruder.

Shen Ji’s hand paused as he tugged at the quilt. He looked like a timid bride caught making a mistake, trembling as he said, “Yaoyao, I’m sorry.”

Bai Yao sat up, arms crossed. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I shouldn’t have woken you, and I came too late.” Shen Ji’s dark eyes were pure and clear. Ever since Bai Yao had told him she would increase his study training, he’d become timid, terrified of upsetting her, and his schedule was so strict he didn’t even have time for snacks.

He curled his fingers, playing the part of the obedient boy. “Yaoyao, I saw junk food today and didn’t eat any. Won’t you praise me?”

Bai Yao stared at him for a while before finally raising her hand to pat his head, fulfilling the expectation in his eyes. “Well done.”

A big smile blossomed on Shen Ji’s pale face.

Bai Yao said, “I watched a movie tonight. In the film, there’s a spirit called Sadako. Anyone who sees her is cursed and will die on the seventh day. Shen Ji, do you think I’ll die?”

Shen Ji replied, “Of course not!”

Bai Yao asked, “How can you be so sure?”

Shen Ji hesitated, bowing his head and fidgeting with his shirt hem as he mumbled, “Because… because I’ll protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you… And besides, those curses are all fake anyway, Yaoyao, don’t be afraid.”

As he spoke, he didn’t dare meet her eyes.

He knew Bai Yao hated being lied to. Just like the time he promised her he wouldn’t sneak snacks, but still secretly ate meat, and she got so angry she threatened to break up with him.

Shen Ji didn’t want to break up. Just the thought of Bai Yao liking someone else—teaching them homework, feeding them snacks, lying in bed with them—made every bone in his body ache with unbearable pain.

He hurriedly pressed his hand to his chest. His heart still beat powerfully within. He lifted his gaze with caution. “Yaoyao, do you still like me?”

Bai Yao answered casually, “I guess I don’t like you as much anymore.”

Shen Ji blinked. His earlier anxiety vanished, replaced by a delighted smile. “You’re lying—I can feel it. You still like me!”

And not just a little, but you like me so much!

But soon, Shen Ji sensed something else through his heart. He lowered his eyes, fiddling nervously with his shirt hem, timorously asking, “Yaoyao… do you have something you want to ask me?”

Shen Ji told himself not to cry. The romance comics said girls liked strong boys, so he had to be strong. If Bai Yao wanted to break up, he couldn’t beg her in tears.

At most, he’d kneel and beg her not to leave.

But unexpectedly, Bai Yao didn’t ask him anything. Instead, she tossed him something. He looked down at the box in his hand, the word “DUreX” printed on it, then looked at Bai Yao in confusion.

His English wasn’t good—he didn’t know what it was.

Bai Yao asked directly, “There’s one left inside. Do you want to use it?”

Shen Ji blinked, dumbly echoing, “Use?”

Without hesitation, Bai Yao pushed him down onto the bed.

When Shen Ji wasn’t wearing his school uniform, he often wore the simple, comfortable white T-shirts Bai Yao bought for him—easy to take off.

Shen Ji obediently let her undress him, staring unblinking at the girl straddling his waist. When Bai Yao slowly let the strap of her camisole slip from her shoulder, he finally understood.

His heart pounded violently, every beat inscribed with longing.

Shen Ji had never felt this way before—adrift among clouds, yet afraid of falling. The intensity left him tense all over. He seized the initiative, flipped their positions, kissing her as he fumbled with his waistband in anticipation.

Bai Yao’s foot nudged him gently. “Do you know how to put it on?”

Shen Ji held the little box, eyes dazed with desire, then looked to her for help, his dark eyes shining wetly, helpless and pitiful.

Oh—he didn’t know.

Bai Yao laughed softly, took the box from him, kissed his jaw, and whispered, “Let me teach you.”

In that instant, dazzling light seemed to burst in the boy’s eyes.