“Here is your meal. Enjoy, and have a good night.”
With a polite and graceful smile, Luo Ming handed the packaged fast food to the customer and watched them leave the shop.
That was likely the final customer of the night. The prepared ingredients were nearly gone; it was time to close up.
Turning around, she saw Gu Yu sitting down to rest. Exhaustion was evident on his face, mixed with a hint of sleepiness. Luo Ming pulled up a stool next to him and sat down, a faint, clean fragrance wafting toward him.
“Gu Yu, we’re off the clock.”
“Ah! Finally. I’m exhausted.” Gu Yu stretched his limbs, trying to soothe the aches from several hours of constant work.
His culinary skills were mediocre at best—his cooking was barely passable. Fortunately, this job only required him to reheat meals prepared by the boss and arrange them into fast-food boxes according to the orders before handing them to Luo Ming, who handled the customers at the front. It wasn’t difficult.
However, repeating the same process dozens or hundreds of times still brought on fatigue. By the time night fell and the ingredients ran out, Gu Yu’s arms were sore, and his legs felt weak from standing.
A few minutes of rest gave him just enough strength to make it home. Gu Yu stood up and asked, “The boss isn’t back yet?”
“He sent a message telling us to head out. He’ll be back shortly.”
“Then… shall we go?”
“Mhm. Let me just clear off the counter.”
After cleaning up the stray food crumbs and wiping away grease and soup stains, Luo Ming grabbed her backpack and left with Gu Yu.
The night was deep and everyone was slowly settling down for the day. Pedestrians on the street were few and far between. The dim yellow streetlights supported small pools of light, and the stray cries of cats echoed from unknown corners.
Looking ahead, the distant lights were bright. One could see to the very end of this long street, where it was cut off by the river spanning the city. On the opposite bank lay the glittering lights of ten thousand homes.
Luo Ming gazed at that bustling world across the water and asked softly, “Gu Yu, do you live far from here?”
“Pretty far. I have to take the bus. Otherwise, I’d walk to school every day—it would save me four yuan.”
“You really are something… always thinking about money the moment something comes up,” Luo Ming remarked with a light, somewhat helpless sigh.
Gu Yu shrugged, his voice lazy. “For someone like me who lives hand-to-mouth, if I don’t think about money, I’ll probably starve to death.”
The conversation fell into silence. She tilted her head to study the boy’s profile; he had an unhealthy thinness to him. His exaggerated explanation seemed like an attempt to lighten the mood—on anyone else, it would sound like a joke, but coming from him, it carried the unavoidable bitterness of a harsh reality.
Noticing the atmosphere had grown heavy, Gu Yu added, “Just kidding. I’m not quite at the point of starving yet.”
“There’s only one year left until the university entrance exam. Gu Yu, which school do you want to get into?” Luo Ming deftly changed the subject, her sweet smile returning.
“Linyang University, I think. But the difficulty is quite high for me. I can only try my best. It must be easy for you, though.”
“It’s alright, not exactly ‘easy’… How about this? If you’re free this weekend, I can help you with some tutoring.”
Gu Yu’s footsteps faltered. “Is that okay? Won’t it be too much trouble for you?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if it were trouble. How about this weekend, after we get back from the cemetery?”
He scratched his head. That time slot was empty; it was perfect.
This seemed to be the first time he had heard Luo Ming proactively offer kindness to someone. This gentle girl usually responded to requests for help as best she could, but she never volunteered her assistance or overstepped boundaries.
“Sure. Thanks a lot, then.”
“It’s nothing. You look out for me plenty during our shifts.”
The night wind was biting, ruthlessly stripping away warmth and bringing a chilling cold. When they reached a fork in the road, they stood under a patch of pale, ghastly light.
Luo Ming pointed to one side. “I need to catch my bus over there. See you tomorrow.”
The road she pointed toward was sparsely lit and dominated by darkness. In the unreadable shadows, it felt as though bloodthirsty monsters were hidden, sparking an instinctive fear.
She had only taken two or three steps when a voice from behind put her at ease.
“I’ll walk you. A road this dark isn’t safe for a girl alone.”
“…Alright… then… thank you.”
Gu Yu stayed half a step behind Luo Ming as they walked.
The cold night was a chaotic black. The eerie cat cries hadn’t ceased, and Gu Yu couldn’t help but feel a bit trepidatious. Despite having lost almost everything he could lose, he still clung to his life desperately; he feared anything that could threaten it.
The silence gnawed at his mind, so Gu Yu tried to strike up a conversation to suppress his rising fear. “By the way, Luo Ming, what university do you want to go to? With your grades, you could probably go anywhere.”
“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll think about it later.”
The voice that answered him was cold, as if it had merged with the disorienting night and the monsters in the dark.
Gu Yu’s body temperature continued to drop uncontrollably. He couldn’t find a reason for it, but the sense of dread he’d felt since stepping onto this path wouldn’t dissipate, making him feel pathetically embarrassed.
“Are you afraid?” Gu Yu asked abruptly.
“I’m okay. I’ve walked this path so many times I’ve gotten used to it. Although, I feel more at peace today than before.”
Luo Ming turned back to look at him. The meaningful smile on her face was breathtaking even in this light—it was a beauty that felt almost unreal.
As their eyes met, Gu Yu suddenly felt that the gaze fixed upon him was incredibly foreign. It didn’t look at all like the Luo Ming he knew. There was an indefinable strangeness to it… something that inspired dread…
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Gu Yu quickly shook off the strange thought and rubbed his eyes. When he looked again, Luo Ming had already turned back around.
Her shoulder-length hair was tied into a low ponytail, resting against her back and veiling her pale neck. She wore the blue-and-white school uniform, matching trousers, and white socks peeking out from her canvas shoes. Gu Yu scanned her from top to bottom—it was the same familiar Luo Ming. That sensation just now must have been an illusion.
They fell silent again, walking quietly until they nearly reached the station.
“The bus is coming.” Luo Ming saw the bus approaching from a distance. She turned around and thanked him. “Thank you. You should head back early too, or you’ll miss your bus.”
“Oh, right. I’m going. Get home safe.”
“You too. Bye-bye.”
Gu Yu turned and walked away. After a few steps, he looked back to see her boarding the bus. Everything was normal.
It really was an illusion. What could possibly be wrong with Luo Ming?
…
The bus doors hissed shut behind her. The coins she dropped into the box made a loud, crisp clatter.
There were many empty seats, but Luo Ming didn’t sit down. She gripped the handrail, staring through the window at the boy’s thin silhouette as he walked away, watching him be slowly swallowed whole by the night.
The interior of the bus was also hauntingly quiet. The only one or two other passengers sat in the very last row, far away from her.
The girl stood steadily, her figure slender, her waist narrow and legs long. Her silhouette was beginning to show the graceful curves of early womanhood.
A few strands of black hair dangled over her eyelids, cutting her vision into pieces. Her pale pink lips parted slightly, whispering syllables that no one else could hear…
There were no new passengers along the way, and the bus moved quickly. Luo Ming watched the darkened shops and houses flash past her eyes, her expression calm as she once again tucked all her emotions away.