Chapter 19 Part 2: You had a nightmare

She barely perceptibly breathed a sigh of relief, then grabbed a mop to clean up the blood.

Zhang Xueji moved aside, went to the balcony, and opened the glass door.

The night breeze drifting in helped dispel the stench of rot, leaving only the sweet, warm aroma of food.

After mopping the floor, Xie Qiaoqiao handed the thermal bag from the shoe cabinet to Zhang Xueji. “Yangzhi Nectar, for you.”

Zhang Xueji took it, surprised to find only one cup. “Aren’t you having any?”

Xie Qiaoqiao shook her head. “I’ve had too much milk tea lately.”

Her tone was as calm as ever, but Zhang Xueji sensed a subtle struggle in her words—even on her expressionless face, he could read a hint of regret.

She wanted to drink it, but didn’t dare? Controlling sugar? Dieting? But she was already very thin; she didn’t need to diet.

Weight wasn’t a topic worth digging into, so Zhang Xueji didn’t press. Instead, he started unwrapping the food he’d bought.

Xie Qiaoqiao immediately sat at the coffee table, waiting to see what sweets Zhang Xueji had brought out.

Desserts are no lower in calories than milk tea, but since Zhang Xueji had already bought them, Xie Qiaoqiao would feel it was a waste not to eat.

“You said you liked flaky egg tarts, right? This Bolo Bun is similar—try it and see if you like it.”

Zhang Xueji handed over a Bolo Bun wrapped in wax paper.

The outside was crisp and crumbly, the inside soft, with a slice of butter. Sweet on the outside, salty within, but it all blended surprisingly well—not strange at all, and it easily conquered Xie Qiaoqiao’s taste buds.

The thermal bag with the buns bore the restaurant’s logo, showing it was takeout. Xie Qiaoqiao had lived in this city for three or four years, yet had never found this shop.

After swallowing her bite, she asked, “Are you a local?”

Zhang Xueji shook his head. “I’m from eastern Guangdong, only came here for university. Are you local?”

Xie Qiaoqiao also shook her head but didn’t say where she was from.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Zhang Xueji, but she didn’t know herself.

Since she didn’t know, there was no point saying anything. She lowered her head, bit into the Bolo Bun, and considered finding time to visit that shop for snacks.

Seeing she was almost done with the Bolo Bun, Zhang Xueji slid the Red Bean Ice Snowball over to her.

The thermal bags were separate—hot in one, cold in another. The Red Bean Ice Snowball was still giving off a chilly mist.

Zhang Xueji shook the bag, making the ice pack inside rattle. “The shop forgot to give a spoon—do you have any at home?”

Xie Qiaoqiao thought for a moment. “There should be one in the kitchen.”

Her tone was hesitant, not entirely sure.

Although she’d moved in weeks ago, Xie Qiaoqiao subconsciously didn’t regard this place as “home.”

Meals were improvised, and unless Hua Lingyue invited her out, she usually just cooked something quick.

Most of the time, she didn’t even use chopsticks or a spoon.

So she wasn’t sure if there were any spoons in the kitchen.

Zhang Xueji put down the bag and his half-eaten Bolo Bun. “I’ll go get one.”

He circled the coffee table slowly, watching for Xie Qiaoqiao’s reaction from the corner of his eye—she had none, merely bowing her head to stare at the Red Bean Ice Snowball in front of her, as if she’d already accepted that he was going to fetch a spoon.

But something still felt off.

Xie Qiaoqiao stared at the sweet, chilly Red Bean Ice Snowball, trying hard to figure out what was wrong, but couldn’t.

That’s why she hated dealing with people.

Her lack of social experience often led her to act inappropriately without realizing it, but her overly sharp intuition would gather information from her surroundings, sending warning signals to her brain.

But Xie Qiaoqiao’s brain wasn’t smart enough to piece it together.

So she could sense something was wrong, but couldn’t figure out what.

Zhang Xueji pushed open the kitchen door. The thick scent of decay inside made him a little nauseous. He carefully skirted around the sealed box but felt something wet under his shoe.

Blood.

It had seeped from the box, flowed down the cart, and pooled on the floor.

Zhang Xueji shook off his shoe and backed up until his waist hit the counter, his head spinning from the smell of blood. He muttered, “How can a fish have this much blood… Didn’t they bleed it dry before killing it…”

Bang!

The box suddenly jumped. The tape sealing the surface bulged outward. Zhang Xueji retreated until he was sitting on the counter, his face like he’d seen a Ghost!

Bang! Bang!

The tape was punched open, and a bloody hand crawled out; the five fingers bent in all directions, and tiny mouths split open at each fingertip, opening and closing like they were breathing.

The air was thick with the stench of blood, but those “mouths” sniffed out the enticing sweetness beneath the suffocating stink—the scent of a top-quality ingredient.

Within two or three seconds, all the fingers faced the same direction, but before they could do anything, Xie Qiaoqiao pressed them down; she crushed the voiceless “mouths” between her fingers, blood and tiny teeth oozing from the gaps, pattering onto the box.

Xie Qiaoqiao tore off the tape, opened the box, and glanced inside. The neatly cut-up corpse lay silent, only the severed arm she’d just crushed having crawled out.

She leaned down to sniff inside the box—still only the smell of a corpse, no monster stench.

Strange—she felt puzzled, tilted her head in thought, and after a moment decided to let it go for now and peered at Zhang Xueji.

The young man had collapsed, pale as death, looking like he might be dead.

Xie Qiaoqiao grew anxious, ran around the box, and knelt beside him to listen to his heartbeat—it was fast, just like that day they’d walked together in the community.

He wasn’t dead yet.

Xie Qiaoqiao let out a sigh of relief and dragged him from the kitchen to the living room sofa. Zhang Xueji was heavier than she’d imagined, and her arms felt sore after hauling him.

She went back to the kitchen to wash her hands and noticed the spoon was right by the sink, next to the chopsticks.

Zhang Xueji looked terrible, and would probably be out for a while. Xie Qiaoqiao stared at the spoon for two seconds, then took it back to the coffee table and started eating the Red Bean Ice Snowball.

Sweet and delicious.

By the time Xie Qiaoqiao finished the Red Bean Ice Snowball, Zhang Xueji had woken up.

He scrambled up from the sofa in a panic and shouted, “There was a hand! Qiaoqiao, there was a hand!”

The living room was silent. Xie Qiaoqiao, spoon still in her mouth, looked up at Zhang Xueji.

Zhang Xueji was agitated. “Qiaoqiao! There was a human hand in your box!”

Xie Qiaoqiao shoved the Yangzhi Nectar into his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Have something sweet.”

Her calmness was contagious, and Zhang Xueji felt less panicked. Dazed, he let her guide his arm, bringing the Yangzhi Nectar to his lips. He took a sip.

The ice in the Yangzhi Nectar had long since melted, and the flavor was thin and bland.

Slowly, Zhang Xueji regained his senses and couldn’t help glancing toward the kitchen. The kitchen door was shut, the floor clean after being mopped, no blood stains. The air held only the warm scent of a summer night, no trace of blood.

Zhang Xueji was at a loss. “Just now… I went to get a spoon… then the box moved, and I saw a hand—a human hand, it crawled out—”

“You had a Nightmare,” Xie Qiaoqiao said calmly.

Zhang Xueji’s expression grew more and more confused. “A Nightmare?”

Xie Qiaoqiao nodded, then pointed to the spoon on the table. “You already brought me a spoon, then you lay down on the sofa and took a nap, had a Nightmare, and woke up suddenly. That’s all.”

Zhang Xueji blinked, head foggy, and muttered to himself, “So it was a Nightmare… a Nightmare… That makes sense, I’ve been having a lot of Nightmares lately…”

The poor puppy was scared into a cold sweat, bangs damp and sticking to his skin, eyes unfocused as he muttered to himself.

Xie Qiaoqiao sat beside the sofa, noticing the fine beads of sweat on his neck. His pale, sickly skin was tinged with a faint flush.

The same red lingered on his cheeks and at the corners of his eyes, wet lashes sticking to his lids.

She was silent for a moment, then reached out to pat Zhang Xueji’s head. “People get weaker when they’re sick, and it’s easier to be affected by Evil Qi. Having Nightmares is perfectly normal.”

Zhang Xueji gradually calmed down and managed a bitter smile. “But I don’t think my Nightmares have much to do with being sick. I was having them even before I got sick a few days ago… Dreamt of a deep pool, with some monster chasing me…”

He paused, not mentioning that Xie Qiaoqiao was also in his dreams.

He wiped his cheeks and neck. “Guess it’s just the usual—what you think about during the day, you dream at night. That Clinical Department Female Ghost I saw in The Lower First Floor really freaked me out.”

“I’ll head back now. You—get some rest too.”

His fingers left faint marks as he wiped. Xie Qiaoqiao’s gaze lingered on those marks for a moment before she withdrew it and pointed to the unfinished Bolo Bun on the table. “Are you going to eat that?”

Zhang Xueji had lost his appetite and shook his head. “I’ll toss it later—”

Xie Qiaoqiao casually added, “If you’re not eating it, I’ll have it.”

Zhang Xueji: “…?”

Seeing he was stunned but didn’t refuse, Xie Qiaoqiao took it as consent, grabbed the Bolo Bun, and continued eating.

The bun had sat for a while; the crust was no longer crisp, and the butter inside was half-melted, not as tasty as when it was fresh.