A full week before Zhu Ling's actual birthday, her boyfriend surprised her with a big gift ahead of time. He threw her a lavish surprise birthday party at a bar, but Zhu Ling didn't like these things. For her, the "surprise" in this party far outweighed the "pleasure."
Perhaps because she'd been taken to the detention center recently and been frightened, her boyfriend wanted to make up for it and celebrated her birthday a week early. That day, she was told to meet him at the bar after school, but she had no idea what it was about. When she was led into the private room and saw a crowd of bobbing heads, with multiple hand-held party poppers firing off with a bang and colorful confetti raining down on her head, she was startled. Her instinct was to flee, but her boyfriend grabbed her and held her back.
Her boyfriend had invited many friends, both people she knew and didn't. The ones she knew were his singer buddies from the bar and various other acquaintances. The ones she didn't know were the underworld friends who were helping him get into big business deals. There were seven or eight of these new friends, and a man wearing amber-tinted glasses was their leader, addressed respectfully as "Big Brother." Big Brother wasn't that old—just over thirty—wearing a suit and carrying himself with a refined, gentlemanly air. At first glance, he did have a bit of a businessman's look to him.
Her boyfriend introduced the new friends to her one by one, but she couldn't remember their names and didn't bother trying. When Big Brother shook her hand, he gripped it a little too hard, held on a little too long. She had to pull with some effort to free herself. When Big Brother held onto her small hand and refused to let go, his eyes stared straight at her with a look that was deeply unpleasant.
Her birthday party, however, was paid for and hosted by Big Brother. Big Brother instructed the waiter: "Bring me all your most expensive and best liquor, and call over a few pretty girls to entertain my boys here. If they're not pretty, I won't accept it!" Then he turned to ask her, "Little sister, what would you like to drink? Tell Big Brother, and I'll order it for you right away."
His demeanor was refined and gentlemanly, but the moment he opened his mouth, the flavor of an underworld boss came through—very aggressive. When he gestured to the waiter, his arm movements were a bit too wide, and a glimpse inside his collar revealed a very thick gold chain. One look told you he was ostentatiously wealthy. No wonder her boyfriend was so deeply impressed by them, thinking he'd make big business deals and lots of money following them.
She said, "I'm allergic to alcohol. I never drink."
One of Big Brother's men, who seemed to be the second-in-command, sized up her dark makeup, his gaze following her fake eyelashes that fluttered so hard they could fan someone into a cold. He expressed doubt about her claim: "I heard you used to sing at this bar before. A girl who's been around the scene—how can she not drink? Don't tell me you're trying to disrespect our Big Brother?"
Her boyfriend hurried over to explain, insisting repeatedly that she was telling the truth: "She really is allergic to alcohol. If she drinks, she breaks out in rashes, and it could even be dangerous. I'm not lying to you."
The second-in-command's gaze landed on her face and lingered for a long time, as if weighing whether her words were true. Their unbridled, brazen stares reminded her of what that high-quality Big Brother from before had said—"The innocence that even heavy makeup can't hide is what's most attractive"—and she felt inexplicably disgusted, with a hint of creeping dread.
In the end, it was Big Brother who came to her rescue. Big Brother laughed heartily and scolded the second-in-command: "She's a college student, a schoolgirl! She just turned eighteen. Even if she could drink, her family wouldn't allow it. Get lost, don't scare my little sister!"
A medium-sized private room was packed with dozens of people—a room full of men and women, some singing, some flirting, smoky and chaotic. The bar owner was also good friends with Big Brother, and halfway through the party, he specially sent over a few bottles of liquor, chatting and laughing with Big Brother and his men. There were too many people, and the temperature in the room kept rising. A large group of Big Brother's men started taking off their clothes, and a good half of them had full-sleeve tattoos.
Her boyfriend had initially sat beside her trying to cheer her up, but she remained sullen and silent the whole time, so he went over to sit next to Big Brother instead, flattering him along with a pretty girl beside Big Brother, making him shake with laughter.
After sitting listlessly in the private room for about half an hour, Zhu Ling felt the party was utterly boring. She said, "I'm leaving," grabbed her bag, walked out of the room, and left on her own.
When she got home, she received a call from her boyfriend: "Where are you? How did you disappear?"
Zhu Ling said, "I went home."
Her boyfriend was both exasperated and anxious: "This party was specially thrown for your birthday—how can the birthday girl sneak off halfway? I invited so many guests, it's not just the two of us. They'll laugh at me!"
"I didn't sneak off halfway. I said I was leaving before I went."
Her boyfriend asked angrily, "Who did you tell?"
She said, "Anyway, I said it. I said it before I left."
"Come back. If you come back now, it's not too late. After this, we're going to karaoke, and there's more planned after that—all prepared just for you."
"I don't like parties, and I like those people even less. And you—don't deal with them anymore either. Otherwise, I'll end up disliking you too. I'm already starting to like you a little less."
"Come on, I still have business to do with them. Don't be so stubborn—people will laugh at me too."
"None of them are good people. Staying around them will bring bad things. Stop thinking about making big money all the time—let's just live well in the present. If you don't like singing anymore, then once I graduate from college, I'll support you."
Her boyfriend seemed to hesitate for a moment, touched, and after a long silence, still said, "What makes you so sure they're bad people?"
"I just know."
"You've only just met them—how could you know?"
"I can feel it."
He tried to coax her patiently: "Alright, alright, let's not talk about that for now. Just come back first—there's a birthday cake waiting for you to cut!"
"Those friends of yours—I can't stay in the same room with them. It makes me uncomfortable."
Her boyfriend had probably lost face in front of the big brother and the others, and wouldn't give up—he insisted she come back: "Don't go anywhere. My friends and I will come pick you up together!"
"Don't bother coming—I'm not home."
"Where are you going? Out to the night market with your friends again? Tell me quickly, we'll come get you!"
"Bye, I'll come see you when I have time." Without further explanation, she hung up.
"Hey, hey!"
At 7:45 that evening, Huo Shize only just got home from work. He was planning to go to the gym, and was in the bedroom changing into light workout clothes when he suddenly heard the doorbell ring. He grabbed a hoodie casually, hurried to answer the door, and before opening it, glanced at the screen by the door—it was a Feizhuliu subculture girl, looking both disheveled and dazzling. The girl was holding a small Teddy dog on a leash, and the Teddy was baring its teeth, grinning. The person was rebellious and alternative, and the dog was unusually audacious too.
He was somewhat surprised, looked at her, then at her dog, said nothing, opened the door, and let her in.
"Sorry, I'm here again." The next second, seeing him bare-chested, she was startled. She glanced at him again—whoa, startled once more. Even more striking than the V-line was the shark-line, a body of smooth, defined muscles that was pleasing to the eye, and with all those trophies in the basement, quite practical too.
Seeing him bare-chested, she couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing?"
He was equally baffled: "You suddenly show up at my house, and you're asking me what I'm doing?"
"Put some clothes on." Seeing him still standing there, she urged, "What, waiting for me to donate a shirt to you?"
"…" He snapped back to reality, remembered he was holding a hoodie in his hand, said nothing, and pulled it on.
While settling the Teddy, Zhu Ling couldn't help stealing a few glances at him. Though his body—muscles and V-line—was quite striking, he had a different kind of charm once dressed.
Once the Teddy was settled, Zhu Ling took out a small toy the size of an alarm clock from her pocket. The toy had a power switch on top and three lights. She turned on the power, and the green light lit up. She muttered to herself, "No problem."
Putting the little toy away, she went to his kitchen with the familiarity of an old hand, opened the fridge herself, and took out a bottle of mineral water. Standing in front of the fridge, she unscrewed the cap and took a sip, when suddenly someone came up behind her and slammed the fridge door shut with a loud bang.
Startled by the noise, she turned to look at him, and as she raised her head, she found herself face-to-face with his Adam's apple. She choked and said, "What are you doing?"
Hands in his pockets, he looked at her with some curiosity: "What are you doing? And where did the dog come from?"
"Oh, I took a dog-walking gig—the dog belongs to a neighbor. I happened to wander near your place, got thirsty, and tired, so I came over." She looked around, saw no one else, and asked, "Last time I came, it seemed like there was someone else here. Where is she?"
"She went out."
"You just got off work?"
"Yeah." He asked again, "What was that thing you were holding just now?"
She took out the little toy and told him, "A Ghost and Spirit Detector. See these three lights on top? Turn on the power—green means safe, red means danger, and yellow is a warning that 'there's danger, be careful.'"
"…"
She said kindly, "I'll test it for you while I'm here, see if your house is safe. You have few people and lots of rooms, and multiple floors—it's too empty. When you're alone, you should be careful."
Every time Huo Shize saw her, he was deeply shocked—there was never an exception. This time, her actions left him speechless with astonishment again. He watched as she held up the detector, walked around, tested it, and the light stayed green the whole time. She came back and told him, "The first floor is safe—no ghosts, no spirits. I'll test the upstairs and basement next time I have a chance."
He curled the corner of his mouth, a roguish, mischievous look on his face: "How come you forgot about me?"
"Huh?"
"Although there are no ghosts in my house, I do have some bad habits—I enjoy doing dangerous things at home." By the end of the sentence, his voice had dropped even lower, and his expression gradually turned serious.
She watched his eyes and backed away step by step: "Ah, what dangerous things? What bad habits?"
He stepped forward, and she stepped back. He stepped forward again, and she stepped back again—one step, two steps—until her back pressed against the refrigerator door. His breath brushed against her neck, a little warm, a little ticklish, but there was nowhere left to retreat.
He pulled his hand out of his pants pocket, spread his arms, and caged her in, not allowing her to escape. Then he leaned down slightly, his eyes meeting hers, and told her word by word: "I like to dismember rebellious girls at home."
His expression was so serious it bordered on sinister. She didn't believe him, but she was still startled. She turned her face slightly to dodge his, which was getting closer and closer—one more inch and it would touch her skin—when he suddenly raised his hand and turned her face back toward him. With his other hand, he plucked off both of her fake eyelashes, one after another.
The lashes were firmly attached, and he ripped them off in a second. Her eyelids stung a little, and she covered her eyes, letting out a few "ouch, ouch" cries. He suddenly burst into laughter: "You've got so much paint on your face, like a Resident Evil outbreak—so why do you smell like a little baby?"
She went "Huh?" and asked blankly, "What does a little baby smell like?"
"It's your smell."
Before his gaze could grow even deeper and he could approach again, she spun around, pulled open the refrigerator door, grabbed two bottles of unopened birch sap, and said, "Do you still want these drinks? If not, I'm taking them." Without waiting for an answer, she stuffed one into each pocket.
Zhu Ling swiped two bottles of drinks, checked the time, and saw it was getting late. She pulled her teddy bear close, ready to head home. As she was changing into her slippers, the yellow light on the ghost-detection device—still plugged in—suddenly lit up. She was astonished: "Ah, danger alert! What kind of danger could it be?"
The courtyard gate opened, and a middle-aged woman walked in, holding a majestic shepherd dog on a leash. It was his housekeeper returning from walking the dog outside.
The housekeeper stared in bewilderment at this dark, bizarre girl coming out of the house, then watched in disbelief as she pulled two pairs of fake eyelashes out of her pocket, stood under the streetlight, and carefully stuck them back onto her eyelids while looking at her phone screen.