Xia Miao thought Fu Lan was a bit of a nutcase.
She had never met anyone more melodramatic, more exaggerated, or more downright insufferable than him.
Xia Miao kicked out, landing a solid hit right between his waist and thighs—the most vulnerable spot.
Fu Lan braced himself against the wall, his usually proud posture bending forward. His expression twisted through a spectrum of emotions as waves of sharp pain radiated from the assaulted area, reigniting his murderous impulses.
"Xia. Miao!" He gritted his teeth, lifting his head with a glare so dark it seemed to swallow the light. His pale face flushed with anger, making him look healthier for once.
Xia Miao met his gaze without an ounce of guilt. "I told you, didn’t I? You have to make me like you first before I can obsess over you or adore you. You can’t just assume I’ll put up with your arrogant, self-absorbed nonsense just because I have a soft spot for you!"
Fu Lan’s mind blanked at her claim of having a "soft spot" for him.
This woman mocked him, kicked him, and opposed him at every turn—where was the affection in that?!
The bathroom lights flickered on suddenly, as if sweeping away the gloom.
Xia Miao finally noticed something off about his neck. She rose onto her tiptoes, peering at the uneven texture along his neckline.
Perhaps because she’d never seen anything like it before, she froze, a flicker of fear crossing her face.
Fu Lan instinctively covered his neck, an odd feeling creeping over him.
It was like being a six-year-old who’d wet the bed—his first instinct wasn’t to call for help but to hide the shameful evidence.
Xia Miao hesitated. "Your neck…"
"What about it?!" he snapped. "Are you going to call me disgusting? A freak? A stupid pig? As if you’re any better!"
Xia Miao paused, then said quietly, "I was going to ask if you have a boil back there. Does it hurt?"
Fu Lan: "…"
She hadn’t expected such an explosive reaction to a simple question. It was like he had some kind of trauma.
A gust of wind blew in, followed by the creak of the door swinging open.
Xia Miao stepped out of the cramped stall first. At the exit, she glanced back. "Planning to spend the night here? Let’s go."
Fu Lan pressed his lips together, reluctant but ultimately trailing after her.
Once the pair was gone, the mother and child hiding in the fourteenth stall finally exhaled in relief.
They were social recluses, their world confined to this women’s restroom—they’d never encountered other monsters before.
That young man radiated malice so thick it could suffocate even the most deranged beings.
But the real terror was the human girl. She’d dared to yell in his face and even laid hands on him!
So they’d hurriedly unlocked the door, sending these two calamities far, far away.
The night was ink-black, the wind bitingly cold.
Xia Miao looked back.
The dark-haired, dark-eyed boy walked lazily behind her, hands in his pockets, exuding boredom. But the moment she turned, he straightened, chin lifting with an air of superiority, as if looking down on her from some lofty throne.
So pretentious.
She rolled her eyes and faced forward, ignoring him.
Then, out of nowhere, a gaunt young man stumbled into their path.
His sallow skin and deep eye bags screamed exhaustion, but the moment he spotted Fu Lan, his dull eyes ignited with feverish light.
Fanatic. Unhinged. Like a stalker.
"Fu Lan! I finally found you!" The boy rushed forward, shoving past Xia Miao, his trembling hands presenting a small box. "You said you liked these clover-shaped ruby earrings last time—I never forgot! I saved up and bought them for you!"
Fu Lan’s gaze swept over the clearly unstable admirer with undisguised disdain.
Any normal person would’ve at least feigned concern, asking, "Are you okay?"
But Fu Lan couldn’t even bother with that. His voice dripped with contempt. "If you knew I wanted them, you should’ve brought them sooner. I shouldn’t have had to wait."
The boy stammered, "I-I’m sorry! I had to sell a kidney to afford them. The second I got the money, I ran here!"
Xia Miao watched, stunned.
Desperate to please, the boy fumbled to open the box. "Look, Fu Lan! They’re exactly what you wanted!"
Fu Lan eyed the earrings, then the boy’s grimy fingers, his nose wrinkling. "I don’t want anything your filthy hands have touched."
The boy froze. "You… don’t want them?"
Fu Lan’s smile turned venomous, cruelty glinting in his dark eyes. "Did you really think just anyone could give me gifts? Look at yourself—you reek of stupidity. Do you even realize how much you’re polluting the air just by existing?"
The boy’s face drained of color, lips trembling. "Fu Lan, I… I…"
"Move, swine."
Fu Lan reveled in tearing others down, as if their misery nourished him. He thrived on adoration yet scorned his admirers as vermin, deriving pleasure from crushing their devotion.
His gaze flicked to Xia Miao, expecting fear—finally, she’d see how monstrous he was.
A twisted satisfaction curled inside him.
But then came another, stranger feeling. If she was scared, she’d avoid him from now on.
The thought inexplicably soured his mood.
"Why… why…?" The boy’s hands shook, the expensive gift tumbling to the ground. Tears streaked through his fingers, his bloodshot eyes wild. "I tried so hard… Why won’t you even look at me?"
"So many people love you… I could never compete."
His voice dropped to a whisper, cracking with madness.
"If only you were mine… mine alone."
