Letting a young boy make a life-changing decision on his own was clearly unwise.
He was still too young to understand the weight of a promise.
That evening, he slouched home with his backpack, opened the door, and immediately saw a pair of high heels tossed carelessly on the shoe rack.
Aunt is back…
Shen Yao felt a wave of relief.
At least at times like this, it was comforting to have someone to talk to nearby.
He straightened the high heels and called out, “Aunt, I’m home.”
A muffled reply came from inside.
Shen Yao stepped into the living room and saw his aunt sprawled on the sofa in disarray, completely unladylike.
She wore a small suit, the white shirt beneath with several buttons undone, revealing a generous cleavage.
Her long legs, wrapped in black stockings, were draped over the sofa back, one hand gripping a bottle of Binghua Beer, while the TV played an Emerald Channel drama.
The greatest trait of a mature woman was being crushed by life, becoming slovenly and reckless.
His aunt was only about ten years older than him.
The thought that he might become like this in ten years filled Shen Yao with dread.
Shen Qingxiao, twenty-seven years old (by Shen Yao’s own estimation), unmarried, single, addicted to alcohol, described by Cheng Cheng as “a terrible woman,” and currently an external employee at a publishing house.
Sweat-matted hair clung to her forehead, blending with a tipsy, hazy gaze that gave her a certain allure.
Shen Yao had to admit, Shen Qingxiao looked nothing like his father, nor did she share any resemblance with him.
When she first appeared, he even suspected she was a fake relative out to swindle inheritance.
A touch of baby fat remained on her cheeks, making her look somewhat youthful.
Yet her brows and eyes resembled a budding rose—tight and delicate, with a trace of allure.
She always complained about being a bit fat, but to Shen Yao, it was simply healthy flesh, hardly overweight, and certainly better than being stick-thin and unattractive.
“Aunt, you drank this much again.”
Shen Yao snatched the can from her hand.
Shen Qingxiao mumbled, “A bunch of bastards.
I work like a mule, just a little less educated, and they still won’t make me permanent.
They look at me like I’m a plague god… Hey! Shen Yao, tell me, is your aunt that scary?!”
Shen Yao hesitated, then nodded.
“A little scary.”
He remembered the time his aunt rode the bus and encountered a lecherous old man.
Without hesitation, she raised her high heel and delivered a crushing kick.
The heel landed true, blood spattered, and the incident even made the news.
From that day on, in their district, the name Shen Qingxiao became synonymous with Drunken Woman.
Shen Qingxiao looked annoyed.
She stood up, stomped over to Shen Yao, and grabbed his collar.
“Shen Yao, look carefully. Does your aunt really look so scary?”
Her nose almost touched his.
He could smell the alcohol on her breath.
Aunt was undoubtedly an intellectual beauty—at least outwardly.
Shen Yao lowered his head and averted his gaze in embarrassment.
Shen Qingxiao shoved him away, then cupped her own chest with a hand.
“I’ve got a great figure, don’t I? Just a little more flesh than other girls. So why do people avoid me?! I’m almost—still single! My classmates’ kids are already running around! I… Wuwu…”
She started to sob, collapsing back onto the sofa.
Whether from drunkenness or something else, he couldn’t tell.
Shen Yao thought, if only aunt were a bit gentler, drank less, treated people with more kindness, was less hostile, dressed more carefully, and hit people less hard…
Thinking about it, wasn’t aunt full of bad habits?
He poured a glass of water, set it on the table, and sat at the edge of the sofa.
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“Aunt, I have something important to discuss with you…”
Shen Qingxiao’s face remained buried in the sofa, unresponsive.
Shen Yao went on.
“Aunt, I ran into a ghost recently. Someone wants me to help look for ghosts together, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Pfft.”
“Aunt, are you laughing at me?”
Shen Qingxiao rolled over, her chest quivering, cheeks flushed red from the alcohol.
“I’ll tell you, everyone goes through a few things when they’re young and thinks they’re special. Later, reality punches them in the face and they realize they’re not so unique after all.”
“……”
She continued.
“But then, how many teenage years does a person get?”
Her eyes turned dreamy, as if recalling something.
“Sometimes, if you don’t do something when you’re young, you lose the chance forever. Years later, trying to make up for it, you’ll find your heart’s already changed, and you can’t recapture the feeling.”
“Aunt…”
“Who is the person who wants you to look for ghosts together? Are they important to you?”
“I can’t say if they’re important or not. Maybe not that important, but not unimportant either.”
“A girl?”
“Mm.”
“Is it Cheng Cheng?”
“It’s not her…”
“I see…”
Aunt rolled over again, stretched with a shameless groan—one Shen Yao always thought only old men made.
“Well, then go do it. If you miss it at this age, you’ll never get another chance. Forget the consequences or the cost. If you don’t live a little when you’re young, you’ll regret it later.”
Shen Yao fell into thought.
If.
If he refused Qiao Yunxue’s invitation, would he regret missing that red-haired girl in the future?
He probably would.
Definitely would.
From the moment he first saw her, he was captivated.
That feeling of love at first sight might never come again.
Shen Yao nodded firmly.
“I understand, Aunt.”
Shen Qingxiao reached for the beer can again.
“If you’re really scared of ghosts, you can always call your aunt… I’ve never been afraid of anything since I was a kid, hic…”
—
The next day, on the rooftop.
A red-haired girl’s hair fluttered in the wind, blazing like fire under the radiant sunlight.
She stood alone, overlooking the school field, gazing down on the world as if she had already detached from everything, free from joy or sorrow.
The drowsy drone of the school broadcast, the roar of car and motorcycle engines beyond the campus—all were noisy.
Yet here, there was a rare moment of peace.
People called her a lunatic, mentally ill, misunderstood by family, disliked by others.
But she didn’t care at all.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
She turned.
Seeing the newcomer, she couldn’t help but smile.
She reached out to brush away her flying hair and beamed.
Shen Yao stood before her, facing the girl who made his heart pound.
“I want to help you, Qiao Yunxue.”
Qiao Yunxue smiled.
“From today, we’re accomplices, or maybe fellow patients.”
The rising sun blazed, its light streaming down.
Under the morning glow, the encounter between boy and girl was etched into eternity like a painting.