E Gui noticed Xia Miao hadn’t moved and blinked in confusion. "Miao Miao?"
Xia Miao snapped out of her thoughts, then nudged him aside before mimicking his posture and squeezing into the cardboard box with him, crouching awkwardly inside.
Unlike E Gui, whose body could twist and stretch effortlessly, Xia Miao looked visibly uncomfortable curled up in the cramped space.
For some reason, E Gui felt an odd sense of shame, as if she had witnessed something deeply embarrassing about him.
"Miao Miao, get out," he said, grabbing her hand to pull her out.
But Xia Miao stubbornly refused. "No, I want to stay with you."
His lips pressed into a thin line. "Miao Miao, uncomfortable."
She burrowed into his chest. "Then hold me tighter. That way, I won’t feel uncomfortable."
True to his nature, he believed her. Obediently, he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her completely in his cold embrace. Pressed against him, Xia Miao shivered at the chill radiating from his body and mused once again how much money he’d save her on air conditioning in the summer.
She poked his cheek. "Did you always live in this tiny box before?"
He nodded slowly.
Xia Miao smiled. "From now on, I’ll take you to live in a big house—with a comfy sofa, a huge bed, and a bathtub in the bathroom… Everything you like will be there."
E Gui slowly interlaced his fingers with hers and struggled to say, "And… Miao Miao."
She laughed. "Of course! I’ll be there with you in the big house!"
At that, he smiled too. The pallor of his face made the faint blush on his nose bridge stand out even more vividly. A cold gust of wind swept through the room, rustling his long black hair and giving him an eerie, almost menacing aura—like a vengeful spirit ready to bare its fangs.
Xia Miao grabbed a strand of hair that had slapped her face. "E Gui, let me braid your hair."
She pulled him out of the box and sat him down on a chair.
E Gui preferred crawling to standing, and his posture was perpetually hunched, his head drooping low. Sitting upright was a challenge for him.
Before long, he curled up again, legs folded on the chair, arms wrapped around them, chin resting on his knees. Only when Xia Miao touched his hair did his eyes flicker slightly.
His hair was absurdly long, the ends nearly reaching his ankles, making it a hassle to manage. But after weeks of careful care, it was no longer as brittle as before—at least now a comb could glide through without snapping.
As Xia Miao gathered the loose strands and tied them back, his deathly pale face was fully exposed.
With his delicate features now unobscured, he looked less gloomy and more youthful, almost vibrant.
She tied his hair into a ponytail and leaned down to admire him. "E Gui, you’re so handsome."
He buried his face in his knees, his ears burning red. Though he tried to hide his embarrassment, his grip on her hand remained tight, refusing to let go.
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the old cardboard box—his former "home."
Small, cramped, drenched in rain, scorched by sun—he’d never thought there was anything wrong with it.
But after meeting Xia Miao, he learned that sleeping shouldn’t mean curling up in a crevice, but sprawling on a bed while she clung to him like an octopus.
He learned that eating shouldn’t happen crouched in a damp, dark corner, but seated at a table, clumsily gripping chopsticks to savor delicious food. And most importantly, if there was one last piece of meat left, he had to remember to put it in Xia Miao’s bowl.
If he ate it himself, she’d get mad.
But if he gave it to her first, she’d be happy—and then, without fail, she’d feed that last bite right back to him.
He also learned not to wander around filthy. Now, he bathed regularly, relishing the ritual—especially since he never closed the bathroom door. The moment he slowly peeled off his clothes, Xia Miao would inevitably pounce, joining him in the tub.
…None of these things could have happened in his old "home."
E Gui’s lashes fluttered, his dark eyes glimmering. After a long pause, he mumbled, "I want… job."
Xia Miao looked at him in surprise.
He lifted his face, his eyes bright and clear, shimmering with determination. "Earn money… buy big house… Miao Miao."
"You want to work to buy me a big house?" she asked.
He nodded firmly. "Mm."
Her heart melted. Overcome with emotion, she threw her arms around him and beamed. "Then let’s work hard together!"
As dusk fell, the travelers who had gone out to gather information slowly returned to the inn.
Ming Buchang walked with an air of ease, waiting for the others to fawn over him and beg for the travel guide he possessed.
To him, this fog-shrouded town was a paradise. No matter how illustrious their status outside, here, everyone was equal—under the shadow of death. For now, they cooperated, but as the body count rose, the undercurrents of betrayal would surge.
Those self-righteous hypocrites who looked down on him—how long before they shed their morals and revealed their true, monstrous selves?
His steps light, Ming Buchang’s gaze suddenly sharpened.
At the inn’s entrance, a girl in a white dress sat idly, staring at a pot of blooming flowers. Bathed in the golden sunset, she seemed to glow.
He recognized her—the girl from the bus, the one taken away by the townsfolk. He’d assumed she was dead. Had she escaped?
Ming Buchang loved money first, women second. The sisters were guarded by Gu Moleng and Jiang Du, the feisty one had died too soon—but here was a rare, unclaimed beauty.
His pulse quickened.
