Chu'he dragged Ninth back to the wooden cabin. Song Tieniu was sweeping fallen leaves in the yard and greeted them warmly upon their return: "I saved some breakfast for you two—"
Chu'he and Ninth replied in unison, "We're not hungry!"
Then they hurried into the room and locked the door tightly behind them.
Chongyang sat on the steps, watching their figures disappear before calmly taking another sip of porridge.
"Listen up, Ninth!"
Chu'he pulled Ninth onto a chair and stood before him, her expression deadly serious.
"This village is seriously suspicious. How could it be a coincidence that two people with amnesia show up at the same time? Song Chunming lost his memory, and Hero Fang lost his too—there’s definitely something fishy going on!"
"And we just arrived in this village last night, but today Hero Fang claims a landslide blocked the exit road, trapping us here temporarily."
"This has to be the legendary 'locked-room mystery' scenario!"
"What do we do? What do we do? Neither of us is a mastermind—figuring out the truth won’t be easy!"
Chu'he paced back and forth, consumed by nervous anxiety.
Ninth lounged lazily against the chairback, his eyes following Chu'he’s restless movements. He took a bite of an overly sweet strawberry and remarked, "So many people losing their memories is definitely troublesome."
Then, with a faint smirk, he added, "But how did Chu'he know that Song guy lost his memory?"
Chu'he froze.
Ninth leaned forward slightly, the silver ornaments on him jingling softly as he propped his chin on his hands, smiling like an innocent child. "How did you know, hmm?"
"I... I... What’s going on? Could it be that you didn’t notice, Ninth?!"
The girl, initially flustered, suddenly raised her voice, startling the boy who had just exuded a dangerous aura.
Chu'he straightened her back and planted her hands on her hips. "That Song Chunming may look presentable, but his eyes are dull and lifeless, like stagnant pools. He has no vitality, his forehead is darkened, and his energy is weak—clearly, his mind isn’t all there."
Ninth blinked.
Chu'he continued, "Our Central Plains culture is profound. Just by looking at someone’s face, we can deduce their circumstances. Ninth, you’re so capable—surely Miaojiang has its own methods of reading people’s fortunes, no?"
Her tone carried a hint of disdain, bordering on regional prejudice.
Ninth fell silent for a moment before tilting his head back with an exaggerated, careless laugh. "Of course! I obviously noticed that Song guy’s mental state was off. I just didn’t say anything to test you."
Chu'he mirrored his posture. "I didn’t say anything earlier because I was testing you too."
"Since Chu'he is so skilled at reading faces, let me test you again." Ninth grinned. "What about my appearance, then?"
Red eyes, snow-white hair, ghostly pale skin, and a penchant for wearing crimson robes—at night, most people would probably mistake him for a specter.
"Let me take a closer look."
Chu'he stepped forward, pretending to study him seriously. But her skills were lacking, and after a long while, she still hadn’t reached a conclusion. Ninth waited patiently, even loosely wrapping his arms around her to let her examine him thoroughly.
"Ah! Extraordinary, truly extraordinary!" Chu'he suddenly clapped her hands and exclaimed, her excitement making Ninth’s ears ring.
He replied lazily, "How so?"
"Ninth, your face is clearly that of a celestial being who descended to the mortal realm—only to accidentally get stained by worldly colors!" She pointed at his white hair and red eyes, her own eyes sparkling like stars. "Look at this hair—purer than the first snow! These eyes—red like the sunset! And your skin, so pale it’s almost translucent! Paired with these red robes, you’re practically—"
Ninth raised a brow. "Practically?"
"—practically the one who walked straight out of my heart!" Chu'he threw herself into his arms, settling onto his lap. She clutched her chest, grimacing in exaggerated pain. "Oh no, oh no! My heart has a Ninth-shaped hole in it now—it hurts so much!"
Her acting was far from convincing, more exaggerated than a three-year-old throwing a tantrum for candy.
The jingling of Ninth’s silver ornaments masked his soft laughter. Though inwardly delighted, he maintained a composed facade, indulging her antics.
"If Chu'he’s heart has a hole and it hurts so much, what should we do about it?"
Chu'he stilled in his embrace, blinking her clear, beautiful eyes. In a pitiful voice, she murmured, "Only a kiss from Ninth can make it better."
Ninth deliberately kept a straight face. "Am I really that effective?"
When he didn’t comply, Chu'he’s expression fell. "Ninth, you’re being unreasonable!"
He pinched her cheek. "And how am I unreasonable?"
Chu'he suddenly wrapped her arms around him and declared with full energy, "Unreasonably gorgeous!"
Ninth: "..."
"Alright, alright, Ninth, don’t sulk." She patted his back, muttering, "Being difficult isn’t good. We should be loving and affectionate."
Ninth couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or amused. "And who’s the one being difficult here?"
"Fine, then it’s my fault! My willpower is too weak—the moment I see a handsome Ninth, I lose all sense of reason!" Chu'he lifted her face again, dead serious. "Kiss me once, and I’ll find the strength to apologize properly!"
Ninth suddenly realized that, in a battle of words, he stood no chance against her.
He didn’t want her to know how easily she could sway him with just a few words—otherwise, she’d grow even more insufferable.
So, clearing his throat, he struggled to suppress his rising smile and gave her a haughty glance. "A kiss isn’t entirely out of the question."
Just as he leaned in, a voice called from outside.
"Big brother, Yingying and I are here to see you."
In an instant, the girl’s hands shoved him away mercilessly.
Chu'he swiftly leapt from his lap, scrambled onto the bed, and pushed open the window with her rear in the air, peering outside with a somewhat undignified posture.
Watching the young couple entering the yard, her expression darkened. "Tch, them again."
A little green snake slithered onto the windowsill, raising its head. "Sss—"
—Tch, them again!
Left abandoned on the chair, the boy’s gaze darkened, his mood souring. "Are we still kissing or not?"
"Later." Chu'he didn’t even glance back, transforming from a clingy sweetheart into an ice-cold statue.
His eyes bore into her back. "If we’re not kissing, I’m leaving."
"Mm, go have fun."
Ninth gritted his teeth, incensed. "I’m really leaving."
"Mm, got it."
"I’m seriously leaving!"
"Got it, got it."
Chu'he remained fixated on the scene outside, her replies utterly dismissive. Suddenly, a weight pressed against her back as the boy enveloped her in his arms.
His face buried into her neck, he grumbled, "Never mind... I’ll leave later."
