Cheng Cheng had an oval-shaped face, graceful silkworm eyebrows, and a pair of lively, big eyes that made her look particularly approachable and charming.
The abundant collagen of a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl gave her skin a freshly peeled, tender look, almost as if it could break at a touch.
The morning sunlight spilled over her face, tinged with pink, making her look adorably cute.
She’s grown even more delicate and pretty.
Shen Yao instinctively avoided meeting her gaze.
As Cheng Cheng became more and more like a girl, he found it increasingly difficult to interact with her.
When they were kids, they could play in the mud and bathe together without any worries, but looking back now, it only made him feel unbearably embarrassed.
On the other hand, Cheng Cheng seemed completely oblivious.
She smiled, elbowing Shen Yao with her arm, eyes curved sweetly.
“Hey, do you have a QQ number yet?”
Shen Yao raised his eyebrows slightly.
“No.”
Even she’s using the internet now?
Cheng Cheng looked a bit excited.
“I’m telling you, you should register a QQ number too.”
“I don’t know how to use the internet, and we don’t have one of those big computers at home.”
Shen Yao refused bluntly.
His aunt would never agree to buy him a computer, and besides, computers were expensive.
“You can register with a phone too. After registering, you can hang up and level up faster. I already have a sun.”
Cheng Cheng kept trying to persuade him.
“What’s the point of levels?”
“Uh…levels…uh…”
Cheng Cheng couldn’t answer.
She realized that Shen Yao had a strange, conversation-ending talent, as if he could always point out the flaw or weakness in something, leaving people speechless.
She thought with a hint of mischief: Shen Yao’s mouth is so sharp, girls will never like him in the future.
Shen Yao turned back to Cheng Cheng.
“The Dean’s Office is cracking down on internet use. If that Zhou guy finds out, he’ll definitely call your parents. Then you’re done for.” Cheng Cheng argued, “I’m not using the internet, I’m just looking up study materials.”
As she spoke, it was as if she couldn’t stop.
“I’m telling you, there’s everything on the forums online… Last week I used my dad’s phone to surf the net and spent the whole night reading forums. I was so scared I couldn’t sleep.”
“What did you see?”
“It was news about our city… Wasn’t there a kid who went missing on Guilin Road recently? Someone on the forum said they were taken by a ghost… The poster described it in detail, making it sound real…”
“You should really go online and see for yourself. Just reading books all day is useless once you’re out in society~”
Looking at her, Shen Yao couldn’t help but snort.
“You’re the one who should read more books, so you won’t believe that nonsense about ghosts kidnapping people.”
Cheng Cheng was a bit annoyed.
“It’s real! There really are ghosts kidnapping people in our city, and that ghost uses a landline phone!”
Landline phone?
A pink English-branded landline flashed through Shen Yao’s mind.
He seemed to remember something, but it was like smoke—intangible and fleeting.
He waved his hand.
“Let’s talk about it later.”
He and Cheng Cheng were different.
Cheng Cheng had a whole family supporting her, while he only had his aunt.
He had no time or space to waste his life away online.
On the way, they ran into some other girls heading to school.
As expected, Cheng Cheng got along better with her female peers.
She said a quick goodbye to Shen Yao, then hurried after the group, chatting and laughing with them in perfect harmony.
Shen Yao didn’t mind.
He was used to being alone anyway.
Holding his school ID, Shen Yao finally reached the school gate under the poker-faced scrutiny of the security guard uncle.
Passing by the outdoor parking area, Shen Yao’s eyes flickered as he spotted the “Maybach” that had almost run him over earlier.
Driven by some unexplainable urge, he walked up to the shiny black car, circling it curiously, a trace of envy on his face.
Every boy has a “giant” dream in his heart—big cars, big ships, big cannons.
He walked to the rear window.
The glass was opaque, reflecting only his own image.
He straightened his appearance in the reflection.
Suddenly, the window slowly rolled down, revealing a beautiful face full of contempt.
Shen Yao would never forget that flame-red hair.
Realizing what he was doing, his face flushed with shame.
He stammered an apology and ran away in a panic, not even hearing what the girl inside called after him.
For the rest of the morning, Shen Yao regretted his earlier actions.
Just thinking about standing in front of someone else’s car, fussing with his hair, made him want to slap himself into amnesia.
This is what Cheng Cheng called “tsundere,” right…?
It must be.
Thankfully, Cheng Cheng was in the next class over.
Otherwise, she would definitely have noticed his embarrassment and forced him to recount his blunder.
At this point, he didn’t even have the energy to wonder why that red-haired girl had appeared in their second-rate high school.
Not that he needed to.
The answer revealed itself soon enough.
—
Lunchtime.
—
Shen Yao was more energetic than most students.
Unable to nap at noon, he picked up a book to read secretly under the desk—not a textbook, but a Foreigners’ novel called Millennium Bustle.
He wasn’t particularly refined; the only reason he was reading this was because it was the only book in the reading corner that still had a cover.
He liked things that were complete—or rather, genuine.
It was a peculiar “quirk,” not uncommon.
Due to his less-than-happy past, he cared more about perfection and wholeness.
Don’t make mistakes, don’t lose, don’t give yourself regrets or remorse in the future.
His bladder twinged.
The cafeteria food at lunch was too salty, and he’d drunk too much water.
The school’s water had a rough, throat-scratching taste; he always suspected there was something wrong with it.
Looking up, he saw the teacher was gone.
Other students were sprawled asleep at their desks, a few drooling so much that their saliva gleamed in the sunlight—disgusting.
Shen Yao stuffed Millennium Bustle into the flip-top desk, then stood up and left the classroom, heading for the restroom.
Passing the Dean’s Office, he was greeted by the scrutinizing gaze of Teaching Director Zhou Baldy.
Shen Yao nodded awkwardly, pointing toward the restroom, and Zhou Baldy didn’t bother him further.
That’s the advantage of being a good student—at least Zhou Baldy wouldn’t go out of his way to pick on you.
After finishing in the restroom, he hurried back toward the classroom, only to see Zhou Baldy staring intently at the small TV in the corner of the Dean’s Office.
Shen Yao peeked over, curious about the broadcast.
It wasn’t anything inappropriate—just ordinary news.
“…The City Public Security Bureau announces that all schools and parents in the city should strengthen supervision of their children to prevent similar incidents from occurring…”
Still about the missing child on Guilin Road…
Supposedly, she was a second-year middle school girl.
In this era, it wasn’t uncommon for middle schoolers to drop out and work, so she couldn’t be considered just a child.
The news said the girl had planned to study broadcasting, meaning she was probably more promising than most kids.
Then, one day after school, she didn’t come home.
By noon the next day, her night-shift parents finally realized she was missing.
To this day, the police still hadn’t found her—not even her body.
Sorry, but in Shen Yao’s view, a teenage girl missing for a month was likely already gone.
Although many people were still searching, she probably could no longer respond to their hopes.
Zhou Baldy was talking with another teacher in the Dean’s Office.
“Damn it, these days students just disappear! It’s not safe!”
“Yeah, so we need to be stricter.”
“Could be human traffickers from out of town!”
Outside, Shen Yao curled his lips.
How could it be out-of-town traffickers?
To spirit away a second-year girl from school without a sound, it had to be someone familiar—this was a middle school girl, not a kindergartener.
He didn’t linger.
With lunch break ending at two, he hurried back to his classroom and took his seat.
Life and death are fated; wealth is in the heavens.
All he could do was protect himself and not let anyone trick him.
But then again, who would bother to trick a high school boy like him?
He wasn’t tough, nor handsome; surely he ranked low on any con artist’s list.
He mused over these random thoughts, not noticing the two figures entering through the front door.
A voice said, “Find an empty seat.”
It was the Head Teacher’s voice—an old woman in menopause.
He’d never mistake it: dry, sharp, and obsessed with grades.
The other person didn’t reply, just walked in lightly.
Shen Yao looked up blankly.
A wisp of red cloud floated before his eyes—smoky, hazy.
The girl’s hair drifted past him, leaving behind a pleasant scent.
Her hair wasn’t completely red; that was just Shen Yao’s mind exaggerating.
It was long, with fire-like red at the tips, darkening as it neared the roots, until it was as black as his own—a tranquil night.
Birds return as they depart—fate is truly mysterious.
As the red-haired girl passed by Shen Yao’s frozen figure, she let out a soft, barely audible laugh.
It sounded mocking, but perhaps carried another meaning.
The lunch bell rang.
Students gradually awoke.
The Head Teacher tapped the blackboard, writing three big characters with white chalk:
Qiao Yunxue.
The chalk marked the lower corner of the “Xue” character heavily, as if waking Shen Yao from a dream.
“Classmates, we have a new transfer student joining our class.”
“Qiao Yunxue will be studying with us as an Arts Entrance Student.”
Shen Yao turned in a daze.
At the empty seat in the last row sat a girl who seemed entirely out of place in this dull world.
She was stunning, beautiful.
Her red hair looked like the only color in a lifeless world.
She couldn’t even be bothered to look at anyone else—just rested her cheek on her hand, gazing out at the rolling clouds beyond the window.
Now, Shen Yao finally understood why the Maybach had come.
And for whom.