There was a sound.
Zhang Xueji held Xie Qiaoqiao tightly and kept crying. Xie Qiaoqiao tried to gently push his shoulder, but he was so startled that he hugged Xie Qiaoqiao even tighter and cried even harder.
Xie Qiaoqiao was silent for a moment and stopped trying to push Zhang Xueji away.
This was the first time she had met someone who could cry so much.
The Dissection Room still lingered with a stench unique to Ghosts.
It was different from the scent of Monsters—the stench of Ghosts was even more disgusting, the smell of rot.
Xie Qiaoqiao pinched her nose to reduce the intake of the stench—after a long wait, Zhang Xueji’s sobs finally quieted down, but he still leaned on Xie Qiaoqiao’s shoulder.
Xie Qiaoqiao: “How long are you going to keep crying while holding me?”
Her voice, usually as straight as a line, now sounded thin and soft because she was pinching her nose, like someone with a cold.
Zhang Xueji sniffled, let go of Xie Qiaoqiao, and his voice was hoarse from crying for so long: “I’m fine now……………… Qiaoqiao, do you have a cold?”
Xie Qiaoqiao still pinched her nose and turned to leave. Zhang Xueji hurried to catch up, whispering, “I haven’t pushed the operating table back yet……”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “The operating table isn’t important.”
Zhang Xueji finally noticed that Xie Qiaoqiao had been pinching her nose the whole time, and asked with concern, “Are you having a nosebleed?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “That’s not important either.”
Zhang Xueji: “Qiaoqiao, why are you here?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “That’s still not important. Just shut your mouth.”
Zhang Xueji didn’t understand, but instinctively followed Xie Qiaoqiao’s order and closed his mouth.
Xie Qiaoqiao grabbed Zhang Xueji’s hand and quickly walked out of the Corridor.
They returned to the Stairwell Corner on the third floor, right next to the Freight Elevator.
Zhang Xueji noticed that there was another Corridor across from the Stairwell Corner.
He paused, feeling confused.
Hadn’t he and Qiaoqiao just walked through a Corridor? Why was there another Corridor on the opposite side?
Zhang Xueji turned around to look back, but there was no Corridor behind them, just a wall.
Zhang Xueji was stunned: “What’s going on?!”
Xie Qiaoqiao let go of his hand and released her nose as well, “I told you, you should visit the temple more often.”
Zhang Xueji was still dazed: “So I really ran into a Ghost just now………………”
Xie Qiaoqiao didn’t answer his question.
She tossed the empty Milk Tea Cup into the Trash Bin and took the lead going downstairs.
Although Zhang Xueji was still a bit dazed, seeing Xie Qiaoqiao leaving, he subconsciously followed her.
He noticed something different about Xie Qiaoqiao—she wasn’t carrying her usual backpack, but a Sword Bag instead.
The dark wooden hilt of a Wooden Sword poked out from the mouth of the Sword Bag.
It was a Wooden Sword.
The two of them walked out of the Teaching Building.
The streetlights along the Main Road outside were all lit, illuminating the empty road clearly.
Zhang Xueji looked up at the sky and saw a clear Round Moon.
Tonight was a clear Night.
Zhang Xueji pointed at the Convenience Store not far away and said, “I’m going to buy a bottle of water. What do you want to drink?”
Xie Qiaoqiao thought for a moment and replied, “Glass-Bottled Grape Soda.”
Zhang Xueji agreed immediately and turned toward the Convenience Store.
As he turned his back to Xie Qiaoqiao, she noticed a patch of congealed dark color at the back of his head.
She called out to Zhang Xueji, “Stop— ”
Zhang Xueji turned around, looking puzzled but obediently stood in place.
Xie Qiaoqiao jogged over to the back of Zhang Xueji, kept a straight face, and seriously reached out to touch the back of his head—her hand felt a patch of Blood clotted together with his hair.
But there was only dried Blood and hair; Xie Qiaoqiao didn’t feel any wound, not even a bump.
Zhang Xueji was nervous: “Is there something on the back of my head?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “Did a Ghost smack the back of your head?”
Zhang Xueji replied, “No, but while I was running, I accidentally fell down the stairs… Did I crack the back of my head?”
He instinctively raised his hand to touch the back of his head, his palm pressing against the back of Xie Qiaoqiao’s hand.
Xie Qiaoqiao’s hand was much smaller than his. When Zhang Xueji covered it with his own, he could just cover her hand completely.
He paused, feeling the slender yet defined fingers and the back of her hand against his palm.
For some reason, at such an inappropriate moment, Zhang Xueji recalled the time Xie Qiaoqiao accidentally punched him.
Such a small hand, but such a heavy punch.
Xie Qiaoqiao pulled her hand back, her hand brushing across his slightly rough palm.
Xie Qiaoqiao: “You stay here. I’ll go buy the drinks.”
Zhang Xueji touched the dried Blood at the back of his head, dazed but obediently nodded, “Okay………………”
There was only one Store Clerk on the night shift in the Convenience Store, playing with his phone.
When he saw someone come in, he just glanced up, then quickly lowered his head to continue playing.
It took a little while to gather everything she wanted to buy.
After paying, Xie Qiaoqiao walked out and saw Zhang Xueji squatting under a distant streetlight, clutching the back of his head.
The streetlight illuminated the swarm of mosquitoes buzzing around his head in sharp detail.
He rested his head on his knees, looking as dejected as a golden retriever.
Xie Qiaoqiao walked over, placed a Baseball Cap with the tag torn off onto his head, and handed him the Mineral Water.
The Baseball Cap covered the patch of Blood on the back of Zhang Xueji’s head, so he no longer had to keep clutching it, worried that people would think he was a wanted criminal.
But Zhang Xueji was still confused: “Can Ghosts bleed too?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “Did a Ghost touch the back of your head?”
Zhang Xueji tried to remember, hesitating, “I don’t think so……………”
Xie Qiaoqiao popped open the soda bottle with one hand and took a sip, “Then it’s not Ghost Blood.”
Zhang Xueji: “If it’s not Ghost Blood, then is it—”
Halfway through, Zhang Xueji stopped, his expression turning strange.
He touched the back of his head through the Baseball Cap, suddenly remembering that when he fell down the stairs, he did feel a brief coolness at the back of his head.
But at the time, all he could think about was running for his life, his adrenaline was pumping, and he didn’t feel any pain at all.
Could he have split his head open then, and that’s where the Blood came from? But where was the wound? Why was there only Blood left?
Xie Qiaoqiao spoke calmly, “Why don’t we do an experiment and find out.”
Zhang Xueji was stunned: “H-how do we do that?”
Xie Qiaoqiao brought Zhang Xueji back to her home.
Unlike Zhang Xueji’s overly refined apartment, Xie Qiaoqiao’s place was a standard commercial template—the only signs of life were a few pairs of shoes piled by the door and some household trash in the Trash Bin.
Zhang Xueji changed into a pair of disposable Slippers, sitting nervously on the Living Room Sofa as he watched Xie Qiaoqiao enter, take off the Sword Bag, and casually hang it—with the Wooden Sword inside—on the coat rack, as casually as hanging a hat.
Then she took a Fruit Knife from the kitchen and placed it on the Tea Table in front of Zhang Xueji.
Zhang Xueji swallowed: “I’m supposed to stab myself?”
Xie Qiaoqiao sat down on the Stool across the Tea Table: “Just make a small cut and see.”
Zhang Xueji picked up the Fruit Knife and lined it up against the back of his hand.
His hand was veined, and as soon as the sharp edge got close, he immediately pulled the knife away with his eyes squeezed shut, face wrinkling in fear, “No no no—”
“What if I accidentally cut an artery?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “There aren’t any arteries on the back of your hand.”
Zhang Xueji tossed the Fruit Knife back onto the Tea Table, timidly: “But what if there is!”
Xie Qiaoqiao was getting annoyed.
She picked up the Fruit Knife in her right hand and grabbed Zhang Xueji’s wrist with her left.
Zhang Xueji cried out “Wait, wait, wait!” but Xie Qiaoqiao ignored him and slashed!
She moved so quickly, and the cut was so shallow, that Zhang Xueji only felt the pain after the Blood started to ooze from the wound on the back of his hand.
It didn’t hurt as much as he imagined—Xie Qiaoqiao’s knife skills were surprisingly good.
He leaned over, staring at his hand along with Xie Qiaoqiao.
Drops of Blood rolled down the back of his hand and dripped onto Xie Qiaoqiao’s wrist with a soft ‘plop’.
The bright red Blood made her skin look even paler, and for a moment, Zhang Xueji forgot about the pain on his hand.
He watched several drops of fresh red Blood fall onto Xie Qiaoqiao’s arm, the Blood sparkling under the energy-saving lamp like rubies.
He thought, Xie Qiaoqiao’s wrist would look great with a ruby bracelet.
Xie Qiaoqiao’s cold voice snapped Zhang Xueji out of his thoughts: “Looks like this kind of shallow wound won’t heal on its own.”
Zhang Xueji looked up a beat late, his eyes still dazzled by the sight of her snow-white wrist, and blankly said, “Huh?”
Xie Qiaoqiao let go of his wrist and wiped the Fruit Knife and the Blood on her arm with a tissue.
Zhang Xueji hesitated: “So I need to cut deeper?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “I’m not a doctor. If I go any deeper, I might lose control.”
Zhang Xueji: “Lose control of what?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “If I can’t control my strength, I might actually kill you. I’ve looked it up—there are rare cases where people come back to life, but those usually have a limited number of chances. Maybe today was your last chance.”
Zhang Xueji was shocked: “Where did you find that info? Are there really records about this stuff?”
“That’s not important.” Xie Qiaoqiao pulled open the drawer under the Tea Table and took out a Medical Kit, “Take care of your own hand first.”
Xie Qiaoqiao didn’t usually help others with their wounds, and she rarely got hurt herself.
After all, this was a peaceful society, and Xie Qiaoqiao was a Law-abiding Civil Servant.
Even the most vicious Monsters and Ghosts were afraid of Xie Qiaoqiao.
As soon as they sensed her presence from afar, they would flee.
So Xie Qiaoqiao almost never had a chance to get hurt.
She hadn’t even cut herself while chopping vegetables—at most, she’d nicked a bell pepper.
Zhang Xueji pulled his hand back and took out Disinfectant and a Band-Aid from the Medical Kit to treat his wound.
He managed to pour the Disinfectant without any trouble, but when it came to putting on the Band-Aid, it got tricky—Zhang Xueji had hurt his right hand, and using his left hand alone, he couldn’t precisely stick the Band-Aid onto the thin, long cut.
Xie Qiaoqiao’s cut was so steady that the wound was tiny.
He tried to hold the Band-Aid with his fingers, hovering it over his hand to check the position.
Xie Qiaoqiao glanced at him, took the Band-Aid from his hand, tore it open, and slapped it onto the back of Zhang Xueji’s hand.
His hand jolted from the smack, a tingly pain spreading across the whole back of his hand.