The rain poured all night, only gradually subsiding by morning. The air was thick with the scent of grass and damp earth, and in the woods, sparrows perched on branches, chirping cheerfully.
Chu'he woke in a daze, instinctively reaching out beside her—only to grasp empty air. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up abruptly, scanning the room for the familiar figure, but he was nowhere to be seen.
She hurriedly dressed and stepped outside, just as Song Tieniu was preparing breakfast.
"Good morning, Miss Chu," he greeted.
Chu'he asked, "Brother Song, have you seen Ninth?"
Song Tieniu replied, "I saw him leave earlier. He should be back soon."
The village was strange and unfamiliar, and Chu'he couldn’t help but worry about Ninth.
Song Tieniu chuckled. "Don’t fret, Miss Chu. The village is safe—no danger here."
Chu'he couldn’t hold back. "Brother Song, would you consider leaving the village with us?"
"I’ve lived here since childhood. Never thought of leaving," he answered. Then he added, "Oh, by the way, word’s come that the roads in and out of the village are blocked by mudslides from the heavy rain. You and Young Master Ninth will have to stay a while longer."
Chu'he frowned.
Song Tieniu ladled a bowl of porridge. "Miss Chu, this is freshly made—"
"I’m not hungry yet. I’ll go find Ninth first!"
In a flash, she was gone, as if fleeing from some wild beast.
Song Tieniu scratched his head, glancing between the bowl of porridge and the horse tied outside.
The horse promptly turned its backside toward him.
Song Tieniu: "..."
He couldn’t help feeling a little wounded.
Chongyang, with his pale hair and light eyes—so different from the villagers—already unnerved them. When they caught sight of a flamboyantly dressed youth with white hair and crimson eyes striding through the streets, they shrank back in fear.
Their terror and disgust were impossible to hide.
Ninth paid no mind to their stares. His steps were unhurried, the hem of his robes swaying gently, silver ornaments tinkling softly. His gaze wandered leisurely, taking in the surroundings, occasionally popping a mulberry into his mouth.
When he reached the edge of the pond, he stopped. "You’ve been following me. What do you want?"
A boy emerged from behind a tree, his eyes fixed on Ninth—or more precisely, on his white hair.
"Hair…" Chongyang’s voice was faint, his words halting. "Same."
Ninth turned, crimson eyes narrowing. "You and I are nothing alike."
"That person… hair same too."
Ninth’s expression darkened.
Chongyang asked blankly, "Outside… same too?"
He had never left the village, so he wondered if there were others like him beyond its borders.
"Or… outside…" Chongyang struggled to speak, "many people… hate us?"
"What does their hatred matter?" Ninth scoffed, arrogance lacing his tone. "If they disgust me, I’ll just kill them."
"My family… hates me."
Chongyang stammered, then looked down at his new shoes—a recent gift from Song Tieniu.
"Big brother… doesn’t hate me."
He rubbed his clean fingers—no dirt, no dust.
"Sister… doesn’t hate me. Doesn’t hate you."
Chongyang lifted his gaze. "But… sister’s family?"
The false smile vanished from Ninth’s face. His fingers tightened, crushing the innocent mulberry into dark purple juice that dripped like poisoned blood.
"Here… no sister’s family."
"Here… not good?"
Ninth’s voice turned icy. "Get lost."
Chongyang lowered his head and ran off.
The pond was deep, its waters black and unfathomable, exuding a chilling aura—much like Ninth’s current mood.
He stood there for a long time, the usual lively jingling of his ornaments now grating and discordant.
Then the wind carried another, lighter chime.
The anklet on Chu'he’s foot was inexplicably fastened—no matter how she tried, she could never remove it, not even while sleeping or bathing.
"Ninth?"
She called her lover’s name as she wandered deeper into the woods. Droplets from the leaves occasionally splashed onto her face, cool and refreshing.
Just as she wiped her cheek, the bushes rustled, and a figure leaped out.
"Rawr—the man-eating beast is here!"
The boy snarled, baring his teeth, his hands smeared with purple "venom," a few drops staining his clothes. He looked every bit the terrifying white-haired ghost from the village’s darkest tales.
Chu'he remained impassive.
"I eat people!"
Chu'he: "Oh."
"I’ll push you down, bite your skin, and drink your blood!"
Chu'he: "Oh."
"I’ll drag you into a cave and keep you as emergency rations!"
Chu'he: "Oh."
"I’m a ghost! A people-eating ghost!"
Chu'he: "Oh."
Her utter lack of reaction deflated the would-be prankster like a wilted vegetable.
"I’m so scary… why aren’t you afraid?"
"Dummy!" Chu'he smacked his head lightly. "There’s no ghost in this world as beautiful and heart-stopping as you!"
Ninth froze.
Chu'he crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with even greater bravado. "Besides, who’d be scared of someone they love?"
Ninth’s eyes flickered, his earlier menacing act completely forgotten.
He fidgeted with his silver ornaments, head bowed, ears burning red—trying and failing to hide his flustered joy, especially when he kept sneaking glances at her.
The girl cleared her throat, her voice bright and bold. "And—"
The boy lifted his glistening crimson eyes. "And?"
"If the person I love really is a ghost, then he must be the cutest ghost ever!"
Bang.
Fireworks exploded in Ninth’s mind, one after another, sending his heartbeat into chaos.
Chu'he, now thoroughly amused, grinned brilliantly, her eyes crinkling. She circled him playfully before leaning in with an exaggerated gasp.
"Whose adorable ghost is this? So pretty, so lovable—I just want to take him home and spoil him rotten!"
His gaze followed her every move, alight with adoration. The word "spoiled" sent his cheeks flushing and his heart pounding.
Mulberry-stained fingers clenched around his silver trinkets. His throat bobbed, and a soft, barely-there murmur escaped his tightly pressed lips.
"Of course… Chu'he’s."
