Chapter 77: Because She’s Smitten, Her Boyfriend’s Twisted Side Doesn’t Matter (9)

Bai Yao had lived in Huashi City for quite some time, and naturally, she had heard plenty of strange stories that had happened here. She asked with concern, "Will investigating these incidents be dangerous?"

Lu Sheng shook his head. "I don't think so. Many important people are interested in these matters, and there are plenty of reporters. I'm just an insignificant intern—no one will pay attention to me."

"Who says so?" Bai Yao retorted. "I think you stand out. I couldn't look away from you the moment I first saw you."

Lu Sheng's gaze lingered on her with a gentle smile. "The only person who finds me striking is you, Yao Yao."

Bai Yao frowned slightly. "That’s because others have no taste."

Lu Sheng nodded in agreement, laughing. "Right, you're the only one in the world with real discernment."

Bai Yao was satisfied with his reply. She packed away the strawberry necklace, and after finishing their meal, Lu Sheng escorted her to the bus. As for Lu Sheng, he said he needed to return to the newspaper office, so they agreed to meet again after he finished work.

There was only one bus, number 44, that went to Yuhua Community, and it ran just three times a day—morning, noon, and evening. The driver was a young man. When Bai Yao boarded, he stared at her and couldn't help wiping his mouth.

But then he saw Lu Sheng, who accompanied her onto the bus.

Lu Sheng swiped her ticket and gave the driver a friendly smile. "Please make sure my girlfriend gets home safely."

The driver sat upright, nodding nervously.

Bai Yao said goodbye to Lu Sheng and took a seat by the window. She was the only passenger, but given the time and Yuhua Community’s remote location, it was understandable.

According to Lu Sheng, the driver was also a resident of Yuhua Community, but he seemed socially anxious and didn’t like to talk, so Bai Yao abandoned any thought of chatting.

After arriving at her destination and getting off, Bai Yao didn’t hurry home. Instead, she bought a pile of things at a shop and then went to the white house behind her own, knocking on the door.

A long time passed before a boy, dusted in talcum powder and wearing only shorts, cracked the door open. His eyes were unnaturally black, fixed intently on Bai Yao, saying nothing.

Bai Yao lifted the bag of goods and smiled. "Hello, Xiao Xiong. I moved in a few days ago and was too busy to visit before. These are gifts for my neighbors."

Xiao Xiong glanced at the bag and opened the door, letting Bai Yao inside.

She noticed their home was sparse; the living room lacked almost all furniture, a sign of hardship. The staircase grew darker as it ascended, and the house itself was poorly lit. She wondered what the previous owners were thinking when they renovated.

Bai Yao set the things down, and Xiao Xiong immediately rummaged for food. She crouched beside him and asked, "Where's your mother?"

Xiao Xiong froze and remained silent.

Bai Yao found it odd. She dug out a shirt with a cat print from the bag. "Even though it's hot, you should wear clothes. What if a little girl walks by and sees you like this? She might call you a hooligan."

Just then, a sound came from the stairs.

Bai Yao looked up and caught a glimpse of a woman in a white dress approaching. The creaking grew louder as the figure drew nearer.

Bai Yao stood quickly and said, "No need to come down and entertain me—I'm leaving!"

She turned to the boy. "I heard your mother’s health isn't good. Does she have arthritis, or osteoporosis? Next time I visit, I'll bring some ointment."

The noise upstairs stopped.

Bai Yao walked to the door, pressed the switch on the wall, and the house filled with bright light, chasing away the darkness and making the space instantly warmer.

She said, "I've paid your electric bill—ten years' worth, more than enough. Remember to turn on the lights at night. Otherwise, if it's always pitch-black, people might think it's a haunted house and get scared."

Bai Yao stepped outside, turning back to Xiao Xiong. "You can come play at my house, but you must knock first. No sneaking in silently. All right, don't see me out—I'm heading home. Goodbye."

She closed the door behind her and left.

Inside, the pallid boy looked up at the staircase, then at the distant silhouette of the girl through the window. He scratched his head.

Bai Yao’s intentions were simple: since she planned to live here long-term, she needed good relations with her neighbors. She didn’t care about outsiders’ opinions, but Lu Sheng lived here too, and if the neighbors started gossiping that his girlfriend lacked manners, it would embarrass him.

Back home, Bai Yao tossed yesterday’s unwashed laundry into the basket, turned on the washing machine, humming a tuneless melody she made up as she worked.

In the damp, shadowy underground tunnel, only two men remained, desperately struggling.

One man was missing his left forearm, the other his right foot—injuries they’d inflicted on themselves recently in order to escape the chains and leave the roasting room, sacrificing parts of their bodies to gain freedom.

Now, each wore an iron mask that exposed only their terrified eyes. If they didn’t find the key in time to remove the mask, their heads would explode.

The key lay quietly in a pool of liquid, but the substance was highly corrosive to living beings.

Instinctively, humans recoil from such danger.

Amid this chilling scene, a man in a black robe lounged lazily in a chair, engrossed in a handful of photographs, occasionally humming tunelessly.

One man crawled to him and knelt. "Please spare me... I really, truly know I was wrong..."

The other knelt as well. "I understand the value of life now. I'll cherish it! Please, give me a chance!"

Both had once led wealthy, carefree lives. They couldn’t fathom why a murderer had chosen them to be brought to this hellish place. Tortured to the brink of despair, they had yearned for death, but as the living dwindled, their desire to survive became urgent.

The killer tilted his head, propping his chin on one hand. His white mask was grotesquely comical. "You want to live?"

The men nodded desperately.

"All right, I'll give you a chance." The murderer stood, his height and thinness even more pronounced. His black boots struck the floor like a death knell. He bent down, took out the photo in his hand, and smiled. "Look, this is my girlfriend."

The photo showed a beautiful girl in a pink dress, running joyfully under the sun. Her delight shone through the image.

When the murderer said "girlfriend," there was an unmistakable note of pride in his voice.

The two men were stunned.

This freak actually has a girlfriend!

But... she looked familiar?

The murderer asked, delighted, "Is my girlfriend beautiful?"

The man on the left answered eagerly, "Beautiful!"

The murderer fell silent.

The air grew tense, fraught with danger.

Suddenly, the black-clad man laughed. "You think my girlfriend is beautiful—so that's why you said online that, once the lights are off, she'd be like any other woman?"

In the next instant, he kicked the man into the pool. His body was quickly corroded, his screams echoed for a moment, then fell silent.

The other man trembled. He remembered—the girl in the photo had appeared on a website not long ago, one that collected images of so-called beautiful college students. Someone had uploaded her photo.

He too had left some lewd comments back then, but it was just idle talk!

Staring at the black boots before him, he lowered his head even further.

The killer smiled, repeating his question. "Do you think my girlfriend is beautiful?"

The man stammered, "No! Not beautiful!"

"Is that so?" The murderer sounded puzzled. "Then you think I have poor taste?"

The man tensed. "No, that's not what I meant!"

The murderer turned away. "Forget it. You can die too."

A sharp sound, and the head inside the iron mask exploded into gore, but the mask itself remained intact. The man’s body collapsed.

In the dim space, only the young man's carefree humming remained.

A few minutes later, he entered a dark room, removed the ritualistic mask that marked him as a killer, lowered his hood, and ran his fingers through bright orange hair. Shedding his robe, he left the dark room and entered a bedroom with uncurtained windows.

He turned on the light, revealing the walls covered in photographs.

All the photos featured the same protagonist: her attending class, riding the bus, shopping at the supermarket, sleeping in bed... every aspect of her daily life.

He looked at the photo in his hand, troubled—there was no more space on the walls. Then inspiration struck. He looked up at the ceiling, and a slow smile spread across his face.

Ten minutes later.

Lu Sheng lay on the bed—sheets and duvet adorned with the girl's image. He hugged a life-sized pillow printed with her photo. Opening his eyes, he could see the photos taped to the ceiling. He drew a deep breath, burying his face in the pillow, his excitement making his whole body tremble.

His phone suddenly vibrated—a photo of the starry sky sent by the girl.

[The stars are so beautiful tonight, they instantly made me think of you!]

He rolled onto his side, eyes fixed on the message, arms and legs clamping the pillow tightly. The pendant on his necklace slipped out from his shirt.

It was a red strawberry pendant, strikingly vivid and beautiful.

The flash of color seemed to excite him further. He draped an arm over his eyes, his breath quickening.

Damn, he was hard again.

She sent another message: [So shall we go for a walk together tonight?]

Lu Sheng immediately summoned his self-control, sat up, and hurriedly replied: [I'm coming to find you. Wait for me.]