Chapter 9: If I Go Bald, Will You Still Love Me? (9)

She gathered her courage and walked forward, making out that the object on the ground was indeed a battered little black rubber ball. Looking up, she noticed quite a bit of plastic debris caught in the trees, even instant noodle containers—clearly, just like at every school, there were always a few thoughtless people who liked to toss their trash from the upper floors.

On an ordinary day, you wouldn’t notice it, but when the wind blew, the discarded rubbish would come tumbling down.

Bai Yao, with her strong sense of civic duty, picked up the ball and tossed it into a nearby bin. Then she continued along the narrow path.

Moments after Bai Yao’s figure disappeared from sight, a headless woman in a red dress stumbled out, colliding into trees and walls with heavy thuds that could stir pity in any listener.

Strands of black hair emerged, accompanied by the steady dripping of water. The hair snaked into the trash bin, wrapped around something spherical, and then reemerged.

The woman in red found her head, affixing it—albeit backwards—atop her neck without concern. Her blood-red eyes glared fiercely at another woman nearby, this one in white with her face shrouded by dark hair.

It was plain to see: her head had just been tossed out by that white-clad figure.

No one could say how they communicated, but a chill wind rose, and in an instant, the two ghostly figures were locked in battle.

In the woods, Lu Zhi-zhi paused, her footsteps halting.

“Lu, is something wrong?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

Lu Xiao-ran rubbed her eyes. The darkness before her remained as tranquil as ever. She murmured hazily, “I must have been seeing things just now. I could’ve sworn I saw the Chopstick Spirit battling Sadako.”

Today truly was peculiar. As if getting lost wasn’t enough, now she was seeing hallucinations.

Bai Yao walked for quite a while before the abandoned multipurpose building finally came into view. With the faint strains of music in her ears, she pressed on, slipping through the gap in the rusty, half-open iron gate. Each step forward, illuminated by her phone’s flashlight, sent clouds of dust swirling into the air, so she tread softly. The building was shrouded in darkness, the lingering scars of an old fire visible everywhere.

Her phone flashed a low-battery warning, forcing her to turn off the music.

Wary of the filthy stair railings, Bai Yao climbed to the fourth floor. The farther she went into the corridor, the more pronounced the fire damage became.

Legend had it that, eighty years prior, a fire had started in the art room here. The closer she got, the heavier the traces of that disaster.

She crept quietly to the art room door and, through a crack, glimpsed a crouched figure inside. The soft sound of chewing drifted out.

She knew that silhouette all too well.

With a swift kick, Bai Yao flung the door open. “So, Shen Ji, you didn’t answer my calls because you’re hiding in here, eating alone!”

With a dull thud, a bloodied, mangled object tumbled from the boy’s hands to the floor. Startled, he looked back at the girl in the pink dress, his face blank with fear, not daring to move a muscle.

The moon slid free of the clouds.

Shen Ji hardly looked well—his fair, jade-like face smeared with dark red blood and flesh, his hands equally filthy, crouched amid the dust like a small beggar.

In stark contrast, Bai Yao remained immaculate in her delicate pink fishtail dress, the silver hairpin in her black hair glinting in the moonlight. She strode over in white heels, bent down, and shone her phone’s light in his face, scolding angrily, “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

Shen Ji swallowed nervously. “I forgot my phone,” he replied timidly.

Bai Yao glanced at the bones and scraps of meat on the floor. She couldn’t tell what animal it was, but her face was full of disdain. “How many times do I have to tell you? No matter how hungry you get, you can’t eat dirty things. You’ll make yourself sick!”

She remembered the early days of their relationship, when she’d carefully planned dates to build their feelings. The school didn’t offer many options, so she took him to the library. They weren’t close yet and their conversation was awkward, made worse when the librarian, unaware they were still inside, locked up and left for the day.

Trapped inside, they called for help, only to learn it would be at least two hours before the librarian returned.

While waiting, Bai Yao went to the restroom. When she came back, Shen Ji was gone. After searching the library, she finally found him crouched in a corner in the basement, eating some dirty, half-raw food.

Bai Yao was a clean-freak and couldn’t accept such a slovenly boyfriend. If circumstances had allowed, she would have broken up with him on the spot.

She’d scolded him fiercely then: no more eating filthy things!

Her warning had been stern: “If you eat like this, you’ll get sick. And then you’ll have diarrhea. I can’t have a boyfriend with diarrhea! If you do this again, we’re breaking up!”

Shen Ji had tried to reach for her, but she slapped his hand away. “If we break up, don’t even think about touching me!”

Back then, Shen Ji had meekly promised to behave, but now he’d slipped back into his old ways.

Bai Yao was furious. “Shen Ji, do you want to break up with me?”

Shen Ji shook his head. “I don’t, Yao Yao. I was just hungry…”

“I know you’re still growing, and being hungry is normal. But you can’t just eat anything! You promised me, but you can’t keep your word!” Bai Yao scolded.

Shen Ji’s dark, damp eyes fluttered; his voice was low and soft. “I’m sorry, Yao Yao. I won’t eat random things anymore. Please don’t be angry with me.”

Bai Yao couldn’t stay mad when faced with him like this. She pressed her lips together and crouched down, pulling tissues from her bag to carefully wipe the grime from his face. She grumbled, “If you get yourself this filthy again, I won’t kiss you anymore.”

Shen Ji wanted to touch her, but his hands were too dirty, so he only whispered, “I’m very clean, Yao Yao. I shower and change every day. I promise I’ll only eat clean food from now on. Please don’t stop kissing me.”

Once his face was clean, Bai Yao took his hands and wiped them too, muttering, “Eating unclean things isn’t good for you. If you get sick, you’ll be miserable. And don’t expect me to take care of you if you do.”

She gave a little huff. “If you end up this dirty again, I’ll break up with you.”

Shen Ji, eager to please, helped lift the hem of her dress to keep it off the dusty floor. He nuzzled her cheek and murmured, “No breaking up, Yao Yao. We’ll never break up.”

His affection made her heart flutter. She took a piece of chocolate from her bag, unwrapped it, and fed it to him. “Next time you’re hungry, just tell me. I know the kitchen staff well—I’ll have them make you anything you want.”

Tasting the sweetness, Shen Ji nodded obediently. He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against hers. When she didn’t resist, he grew bolder, parting her lips to deepen the kiss.

The taste of chocolate lingered between them, sweeping away the unnoticed metallic tang in the air.

Shen Ji gathered Bai Yao into his arms, holding her close against his chest. His eyes brightened as a gentle laughter spilled from between their lips.

Bai Yao glared at him and bit him lightly. “What are you laughing about?”

The boy, gleaming with pride, replied, “I just knew you’d never really dislike me, Yao Yao.”

She always claimed to hate how dirty he got, always scolded him with harsh words—yet she was still willing to kiss him.

She truly, deeply loved him.