The instant class let out at noon, Lu Mingxue tore off like a madwoman.
Mi Xiaoliu didn’t chase her; instead she went to the balcony and quietly gnawed a bun with cucumber, then stared at Yiwen’s lunchbox.
Yiwen got the creeps under her stare, but acted like she didn’t see.
Even by the end of the afternoon, Lu Mingxue never came back.
Mi Xiaoliu, as before, went to the tennis courts and sat quietly on the steps watching her deskmate—the school prince—play tennis, waiting for the two of them to walk home together, since their routes overlapped.
Something seemed to have happened at school; over by the guard booth you could see police asking to pull the surveillance footage.
But none of it had anything to do with the students exercising on the courts.
“Here, have a drink.” Yiwen handed Mi Xiaoliu a beverage.
Looking at this bottle of colored water, Mi Xiaoliu was a little puzzled, but took it anyway.
Too little strength—she couldn’t twist the cap open.
She turned to look at Yiwen.
Yiwen was a bit speechless, and helped Mi Xiaoliu twist off the cap.
Was this really a boy?
“Yiwen, you’re up!” someone from the tennis club called over.
“Coming!” Yiwen answered, then turned to Mi Xiaoliu.
“Want to join?”
Mi Xiaoliu, sitting on the steps hugging her knees, shook her head and looked down at the steps beside her, where Yiwen had just left a sweaty butt print, a bit bigger than last time’s.
So amazing.
Noticing her gaze, Yiwen clearly flushed a little and hurriedly reached over to wipe away the print she’d left.
“How about you head back first?
I’ve still got a while to play, and I’d be wasting your time,” Yiwen suggested, a little troubled.
Mi Xiaoliu didn’t answer, just quietly watched her through the black colored contacts behind her glasses—no emotion, no meaning of any kind.
“Why’s he here again?”
“He’s Yiwen’s friend, probably.”
Some people beside the courts murmured about it.
To the “spectator stands,” made up almost entirely of girls, Mi Xiaoliu—a “boy”—stood out far too much; anyone else would probably have long since fled in restless embarrassment.
This put Yiwen in a bit of a bind.
If it weren’t for wanting to know whether Mi Xiaoliu was connected to that murder case, she wouldn’t have wanted to get tangled up with her at all—and from her observations she felt Mi Xiaoliu didn’t really seem like the murdering type…
Earlier she’d been the one to lie that her way home overlapped with Mi Xiaoliu’s, and she could hardly turn around and admit she’d made it up.
Just that short stretch of road walked together—was it really worth waiting this long?
Helpless, once she finished playing tennis she could only head off in the opposite direction from home, then get herself lost for a good long while.
Was it going to be like this after school from now on?
“Where does the landlady live?” Having parted from Yiwen, Mi Xiaoliu asked Sasha inwardly.
She’d finished the job; she had money for rent now.
“She never seems to have said.
Master, don’t go spending money carelessly these next couple days—just wait for her to come collect it herself,” Sasha answered.
“Mm.”
Mi Xiaoliu turned to look at the little stalls downstairs.
Because this building was purpose-built as apartment-style dorm rooms to rent to students, you could often see snack stalls set up below.
New food.
Wants to eat.
She’d held herself back well and not spent the money on drawing memories; she had over two thousand Mila in hand—a fortune.
“Can I eat?” she asked Sasha’s opinion inwardly.
“Of course you can, Master…”
Mood, up↑.
By the time Yiwen got home, the sky had gone fully dark.
Her home was a two-story bungalow on the south side of Fanzui City—stretching the definition, you could call it a villa.
You could tell from the décor that this family certainly didn’t want for money.
Even though the lights were on inside, visible through the window, she didn’t call out any greeting; she just quietly took out her key and opened the door.
“Why are you home so late again?” Almost the moment she stepped inside, a stern female voice came from within.
“I got lost,” Yiwen answered, expressionless.
A woman with flax-colored hair in an apron came out of the kitchen, wearing a severe hairstyle.
She looked fairly young but was clearly middle-aged; judging from a face with no flaw but a few crow’s feet, and a figure of flawless curves, her looks hadn’t much declined—though she certainly couldn’t compare with the actresses on TV.
“All you ever do is spin lies.
Open your bag.” The woman narrowed her eyes and ordered in a commanding tone.
“Mm.” Yiwen opened her bag and quietly watched her mother inspect it.
Yiwen’s family relationships were far from harmonious—at least, that was how she saw it.
Many espers’ families weren’t harmonious.
“Your computer goes to your little brother first; he needs it for his studies.
And delete all the games on it.”
“Mm, okay.” She agreed flatly, glanced at her brother poking his head over this way, and turned to head upstairs.
“And if you dare go playing any of those superhero games again…”
The only reply was the heavy sound of a door closing, and the line “I already ate dinner.”
Changing out of her sweat-soaked clothes, Yiwen stared blankly at a photo on her desk.
In it, the mother who’d just been so angry smiled serenely at the camera; beside her stood a somewhat gaunt, white-haired young man, his hands resting on the shoulders of a boy and a girl.
This photo captured the family’s happiest moment—and its most complete one.
On the bed, a pure-white superhero uniform had been deliberately cut to shreds; even with the door locked, it still ended up this way.
Expressionless, she tossed the scraps of cloth out the window, then opened the hidden compartment of her wardrobe, where more than twenty identical uniforms hung in neat rows.
When she’d worn it last night, her hair had gotten caught in the seam of the mask again—it seemed it had grown out quite a bit more.
Yiwen took out scissors and trimmed it herself in front of the mirror.
Not exactly pretty—but this face looked good with any hairstyle.
Her phone rang.
Yiwen glanced at the caller ID and picked up.
“Hello, this is White Whale.”
“Night Demon has surfaced in this city,” the other party said.
She hesitated a moment, then went on: “He was the last person your father saw before he went missing.
Don’t say I told you—Uncle Chen doesn’t want you notified.”
Stripping off her clothes and standing stark naked before the mirror, Mi Xiaoliu spaced out again for a while.
Looking at her upper body drew no great reaction, but once she looked at her lower body she realized anew: oh, right—I’m a girl.
The snacks were delicious; that flavor called “spicy” was very much to Mi Xiaoliu’s liking.
The moment they saw her badge, many people turned and left, leaving only the stall owner to make her snacks in terror—half hoping she’d hurry up and go, half afraid he’d somehow set her off and she’d blow up on the spot.
No line to wait in at all; a superb experience.
The dorm was small, but the furniture and fixtures were in no way slapdash.
The bathroom even had a tub—not big, but plenty for a slight thing like Mi Xiaoliu to sit in without having to curl up her legs.
Very comfortable.
She opened the wheel, looked at the two-thousand-Mila fortune in her balance, and carefully tapped a single pull.
Balance −100.
This time she was fairly lucky and didn’t draw a duplicate memory; the scene crammed itself all at once into her brain, and at the same time sent a chill through her as she soaked in the hot water.
On the rainy night two weeks ago, a thinly dressed Mi Xiaoliu put her rain-beaded glasses into the System Storage and curled up to lie down inside a small enclosed space, trying to fall asleep.
The cramped surroundings plus her damp clothes meant it took her two hours to finally drift off—only for some clueless person to come disturb her.
A knock came on her place of refuge; then a sliver of light filtered in, letting Mi Xiaoliu make out the person standing beside the ATM.
Not a cop or security—on rainy days they wouldn’t drive off a vagrant sleeping here.
The pink-haired big sister in the white lab coat—her current landlady—had reached over and, itchy-fingered, bent down and flipped open the large suitcase holding Mi Xiaoliu.
“What are you called?” she said.
“What are you doing sleeping here?”
“I didn’t call out.” The girl, roused awake, sat up and looked at her with hollow eyes, showing not the slightest displeasure at being woken.
“I’m asking your name.”
“Mi.” The girl in boy’s clothing answered with just that one word.
“Mi?” The landlady frowned.
“Liu.” The girl gave one more word.
“Why aren’t you going home?”
The girl didn’t answer this.
She quietly lay back down and even reached out to close the suitcase.
And so, suitcase and all, she was carried off by the landlady.