Xia Miao blinked. "You like me?"
Fu Lan scoffed, "Hah? What kind of joke is that? Who would like you?"
Xia Miao shrugged. "Oh, then I’ll go find someone else to hang out with."
"Xia Miao, don’t you dare!"
She turned to him with an innocent look. "Why wouldn’t I dare?"
It was true—she had always been bold enough to defy him, often driving him half-mad with frustration. Was there anything she wouldn’t dare to do?
Seeing her actually about to leave, Fu Lan’s mind raced. Who knew which guy she’d go find? She wasn’t exactly lacking in admirers at school, and plenty of boys would jump at the chance to cozy up to her.
Before he could think, his hand shot out and clamped around her wrist.
"Xia Miao, you’re not allowed to leave me behind!"
Plenty of people—both guys and girls—flocked to him, eager for his attention. Yet here he was, refusing to let her walk away.
Xia Miao sighed. "You’re a grown person. How could I possibly ‘leave you behind’?"
Fu Lan just glared at her in stubborn silence, like a petulant child.
She tugged at him.
He didn’t budge.
Finally, she relented. "It’s too noisy here. Let’s find somewhere quieter."
Only then did he grudgingly let her pull him up, following her out of the bustling cafeteria without further protest.
Knowing he hadn’t eaten, Xia Miao bought him a pineapple bun from the store and handed it to him before settling with him on a bench under the shade of the trees. The secluded path was rarely frequented, offering a rare pocket of peace.
Fu Lan was convinced he’d lost his mind. Why else would he trade a proper meal for sitting here in the wind, gnawing on a mediocre bun with her?
Xia Miao pulled out the iodine and cotton swabs she’d just bought, dipped one in the solution, and leaned closer to his face.
Instantly on guard, he stiffened. "What are you doing?"
"Treating your wound." She turned him to face her and dabbed the damp cotton swab over the cut on his cheek. "You didn’t bother cleaning this yesterday, did you? I can still see dried blood."
Fu Lan muttered dismissively, "It’s nothing. Doesn’t matter."
Her touch was feather-light, the swab barely grazing his skin. She was so close that he could see his own reflection in her eyes—along with the flutter of her lashes, casting delicate shadows whenever she blinked.
Unconsciously, he held his breath. A strange tension prickled under his skin, raising goosebumps.
Many people had tried to get close to Fu Lan. They reached for him, claimed to love him—only to eventually turn their blades on him.
This was the first time he’d ever known someone to touch him with such care. The gentleness of her fingers didn’t hurt; instead, it sent a tingling warmth spreading through him, unsettling yet intoxicating.
Xia Miao gradually noticed his intense stare and looked up, meeting his darkened gaze.
"Why are you staring at me?"
"Who—who’s staring? Don’t flatter yourself!" he snapped, though his voice wavered with guilt. Desperate to distract her, he shoved something into his mouth—only to realize too late that he’d already finished the bun. All he bit down on was the empty plastic wrapper.
Xia Miao raised a brow. "That hungry?"
Fu Lan’s face burned. "I just like chewing on things. Got a problem with that?"
She rolled her eyes and ignored him, pressing a bandage over his wound instead.
Fu Lan touched the adhesive strip curiously. In his experience, people usually came at him with knives—never something this soft.
Xia Miao said, "Take better care of yourself from now on. Don’t get hurt again."
He huffed. "What’s it to you if I do?"
Despite his prickly words, the happiness in his tone was unmistakable. He was pleased—just too proud to admit it.
Tilting his chin up, Fu Lan flashed her a haughty smirk, his striking features almost unfairly beautiful. He knew exactly how good he looked—and he wielded that arrogance like a weapon. "Xia Miao, since you’ve done alright, I’ll grant you the honor of dating me."
Her reply was merciless. "No thanks."
Fu Lan froze. This was the first time he’d ever asked someone out—and she’d just rejected him? Rage boiled up instantly. "Why the hell not?!"
"No means no," she said lazily. "I’ve told you before—if you can’t set boundaries with others, I won’t date you."
Fu Lan thrived on chaos, on unraveling people’s self-control. Yet here was this woman, daring to dictate his behavior before they were even together!
"Xia Miao," he growled, "I’ll give you one last chance. Do you want to date me or not?"
Xia Miao: "Nope!"
His chest ached with fury. "You’ll regret this!"
"I won’t." She stood and walked away.
Fu Lan shot to his feet, his eyes swirling with darkness. "Xia Miao, get back here!"
She didn’t even glance back.
He raised his voice. "Xia Miao, I won’t come after you!"
Still, she kept walking.
Fu Lan: "If you leave now, I’ll never speak to you again!"
But Xia Miao was already gone, her silhouette vanishing into the distance.
Left alone, Fu Lan crushed the empty plastic wrapper in his grip, the crumpling sound sharp in the silence. Slowly, his shadow began to twist.
A grotesque lump bulged from the back of his neck—a "human-faced sore," pulsing hungrily as if eager to sprout into a new head.
With a snarl, Fu Lan wrenched the half-formed flesh from his body. Though not fully developed, the mass already bore eerie traces of his own features.
He flicked open a lighter and set the writhing face ablaze, listening to its shrieks with a vicious smile.
"No one replaces me, fake."
---
Meanwhile, Xia Miao strode away, thinking Fu Lan was nothing but a rebellious brat who needed to be left alone for a while. But as she walked, an odd sensation crept over her—the feeling of being watched.
After a few more steps, she spun around and caught a glimpse of a figure hiding behind a tree.
A boy stood there, draped in what looked like a tattered white sheet, his feet bare against the rough ground.
Caught off guard, he ducked back behind the trunk—but seconds later, curiosity won out. Peeking out again, he rested his hands on the bark, his dark eyes wide and gleaming as they fixed on her.
A soft, breathy giggle escaped him.
"Xia Miao… Miao-Miao…"
