Jiang Nuan stared at the familiar handwriting before her, and the dim infirmary faded away as fragments of memory surfaced.
Back then, she was still much shorter than she was now, a tiny little thing.
It had not been long since the Bai family had acknowledged Bai Siyuan and brought her from the refugee district into that unnervingly quiet estate.
She lived in the side compound, while Bai Siyuan lived in the main house.
The side compound was a long way from the main house. At night, only a few lights illuminated the path, their glow weak and listless.
The two courtyards were separated by a garden trimmed to excessive perfection. During the day, staff came and went, but at night, the place was as quiet as two islands with nothing to do with each other.
Back in the refugee district, they had crowded together in a drafty shack, close enough to see each other whenever they looked up. After coming to the Bai family, they were farther apart than ever.
Whenever Jiang Nuan wanted to visit the main house, the butler would politely stop her.
“Young Master Siyuan is in class.”
“Young Master Siyuan is meeting guests.”
“Young Master Siyuan is unavailable today.”
She was not good at dealing with people like him, and she did not want to cause Bai Siyuan any trouble. After being turned away for several days, she gradually stopped going.
The side compound was very quiet.
The staff delivered three meals a day on schedule and collected the dishes afterward.
For the rest of the time, she was completely alone.
To be honest, life in the refugee district had been hard, exhausting, and frightening, but at least there had been someone beside her.
When she could not sleep at night, she could still poke him in the back and whisper, “Brother, are you asleep?”
But now?
She had enough to eat and warm clothes to wear, yet she had trouble sleeping even more often than she had in the refugee district.
The first time Bai Siyuan came to the side compound was on the fifth night after she moved in.
It was drizzling that night. A little after eleven, Jiang Nuan was curled up by the windowsill, gazing at the moon. At the moment, it was the only entertainment she had.
Suddenly, she heard the courtyard gate being pushed open softly.
A slender young figure entered, carrying a trace of rain from outside and clutching an oil-paper package.
Bai Siyuan.
On the day the Bai family acknowledged him, the only thing he had asked Bai Suting for was to bring Jiang Nuan—the girl who had depended on him for survival in the refugee district—back with him.
He had agreed to follow all of Bai Suting’s arrangements: to study whatever he was told to study, do whatever he was told to do, and never refuse even work that had to be done in secret.
At first, Bai Suting had refused.
But two weeks later, Bai Suting suddenly agreed to his request and went to the refugee district to look for Jiang Nuan.
After failing to find her the first time, he even went back a second time and finally brought her to the estate.
Bai Siyuan had originally thought that as long as A Nuan came to the Bai family, they could stay together as they had before.
But Bai Suting filled his days with lessons and various responsibilities. Whenever he wanted to visit the side compound, one excuse or another would be given to stop him.
That night, he could not stand it any longer. He snatched a red-bean pastry from the kitchen, braved the rain, crossed the garden, and quietly made his way to the side compound.
“Brother?” Jiang Nuan jumped down from the windowsill. “What are you doing here?”
Bai Siyuan walked a couple of steps closer and held out the oil-paper package. “I slipped out. A Nuan, try this and see if it’s good.”
Inside was a red-bean pastry. Jiang Nuan’s eyes lit up.
She picked it up, lowered her head, and took a small bite. The sweet, soft bean paste melted across her tongue.
As Jiang Nuan ate with her head lowered, Bai Siyuan watched her from the side. “Is it good?”
“It’s delicious.” Jiang Nuan nodded. “It tastes just like the one we had in the refugee district.”
Bai Siyuan glanced at the oil-paper package, his expression darkening slightly. “That time, A Nuan couldn’t bear to eat it and let it spoil.”
Seeing the look on his face, Jiang Nuan hurried to explain, “That was because I didn’t know when we’d get to eat something like that again. I wanted to keep it for a little longer.”
Bai Siyuan raised a hand and stroked the top of Jiang Nuan’s head. “I’ll never let A Nuan suffer again.”
Jiang Nuan blinked, then deliberately held the remaining half of the pastry up to him.
“Then does that mean I can rely on my brother and eat red-bean pastries every day from now on?”
The corners of Bai Siyuan’s lips curved upward. “Of course. A Nuan can have anything she wants.”
“How have you been these past few days? Are you used to living here?” he asked.
“Pretty well.” Jiang Nuan answered around a mouthful of pastry. “It’s just a little boring.”
“Boring?”
“Yeah. This courtyard is far too quiet. The staff leave as soon as they deliver my meals, and I never get to see you.”
Bai Siyuan pressed his lips together, looking somewhat unwilling to accept it. “Wait a little longer, A Nuan.”
“Once I have a voice here, no one will be able to stop me from coming to see you.”
After that, Bai Siyuan came secretly to the side compound almost every night.
Sometimes he arrived early, shortly after ten. Sometimes it was very late, almost midnight.
No matter how late it was, he always brought something with him.
Red-bean pastries appeared most often. Occasionally, it was a few candies or a book he had taken from the study.
Jiang Nuan would tell him stories from the old era.
Bai Siyuan never asked where those stories came from. He simply listened.
In the peaceful years, there had been coffee shops and milk-tea shops. There had been watermelons and air-conditioning in summer, hot pot and heating in winter.
Once, she told him about starting university.
“When the school year began, banners would hang at the school gates, and the whole campus would be filled with freshmen dragging suitcases behind them.”
“The dormitory was really close to the infirmary. If someone developed a fever in the middle of the night, they could find help very quickly.”
“And there was an art club at the university, too.”
“The studio was filled with plaster busts, and the lights overhead were especially ugly—stark white, with no sense of beauty at all.”
“If you ask me, putting a floor lamp in the corner would have been much better. A warmer light makes all the difference when you’re painting.”
Bai Siyuan listened quietly, a hint of longing appearing in his eyes, as though he could truly picture the place.
Only after Jiang Nuan finished did he speak. “A Nuan really likes that place?”
Jiang Nuan nodded emphatically. “Of course I do! If I could, I’d stay there forever.”
“Then one day, I’ll build a place like that for A Nuan.” Bai Siyuan tucked the hair the night wind had tousled behind her ear.
“Sure, sure.” She agreed absentmindedly. “You can talk about that after you’ve taken care of everything with the Bai family.”
Bai Siyuan turned his head to look at her. Moonlight outlined the side of his face, and the young boy’s features were still somewhat thin and delicate.
“I will.”
The latest he ever came was two in the morning.
Jiang Nuan had already fallen asleep when she vaguely heard a noise at the door. She opened her eyes and saw Bai Siyuan standing in the moonlight, his face looking unwell.
Again, so late.
A few days earlier, she had explicitly told him not to sneak over if it was too late and to get a proper night’s sleep.
But Bai Siyuan had only said that he could not sleep alone.
She had been about to lecture him again, but when she looked up and saw that he did not look well, the words died in her throat.
“What’s wrong, Brother?”
“Nothing. There’s just been too much to deal with.” After coming inside, he sat down beside her bed, looking genuinely exhausted.
Jiang Nuan did not ask what had happened. She turned and poured him a glass of water.
When she returned, she found him leaning against the headboard with his eyes already closed.
Jiang Nuan quietly sat down beside him, her shoulder touching his.
Bai Siyuan did not open his eyes. He merely tilted his head slightly, shifting his weight toward her.
“If you’re tired, go to sleep,” she whispered.
“All right.”
In less than half a minute, his breathing had become completely even.
Jiang Nuan gently straightened his head so that his neck would not be bent too sharply and sore in the morning.
The boy leaned against her shoulder. He was a little heavier than he had been back in the Refugee District, but that was only because he had grown taller. He was still terribly thin, so thin that she could almost feel his bones through his clothes.
Was Bai Siyuan not getting enough to eat at the Bai family’s house? Why wasn’t he putting on any weight?
Bai Siyuan would sometimes tell her about things that had happened during the day.
“I met one of the uncles today. He talked a lot. I had to sit there for two hours.”
“The kitchen made a new kind of pastry today. It wasn’t very good, so I didn’t bring you any.”
They were all such inconsequential things. He never said a word about the matters that kept him occupied until two in the morning, or the things that made him let out a long sigh the moment he sat down.
He brushed everything off with, “I’ve been busy,” or, “Things will get better after a while.”
Whenever Jiang Nuan pressed him for details, Bai Siyuan would smile and pat her on the head.
“It’s nothing. Really. Things will get better after a while.”
After a while.
Back then, she still believed him.
*
Until that afternoon.
The corridor of the side courtyard was not very long. At the corner stood a low wall.
Jiang Nuan had left a little earlier than usual that day because she wanted to take a look at the newly bloomed flowers in the garden.
Before she reached the corner by the low wall, she heard two people talking.
“…Wasn’t that project originally meant for him? Why was it changed again?”
“Master took one look at the proposal and handed it straight to the eldest young master.”
“That makes sense. A legitimate young master and someone brought back from outside… In the end, they’re different.”
“Exactly. The eldest young master grew up in the Bai family. All the resources and connections were already there for him to use. What about that one? He came from the Refugee District. His background speaks for itself.”
“I heard he’s quite talented, but the gap is too great. It’s not something he can make up for in just a few months.”
“What a pity. Hard work is all well and good, but if the people above you refuse to acknowledge you, what’s the point?”
“All right, all right, enough. Let’s go get back to work.”
The sound of their footsteps gradually faded.
Jiang Nuan stood on the other side of the low wall, her palms beginning to sweat.
She had heard unpleasant things before.
Back in the Refugee District, people would fight each other to the death over half a biscuit. No one there had particularly clean mouths.
But those insults were usually crude and direct. Once they had been hurled, the matter was over.
The Bai family was different.
The people here never used vulgar words, but every one of those remarks was saying the same thing:
Bai Siyuan did not deserve to stand here.
That evening, Bai Siyuan still brought Jiang Nuan the red-bean pastry she liked best.
When he placed the paper package on the table, he was even smiling.
“The kitchen seems to have changed the recipe today. Try it and see if it tastes better.”
But Jiang Nuan did not touch it.
Bai Siyuan noticed something was wrong and looked up at her.
“What’s wrong?”
Jiang Nuan sat down beside him and suddenly wrapped her arms around him.
Bai Siyuan froze for a moment.
“A Nuan?”
Jiang Nuan hugged him tightly. She could feel how thin his shoulders and back were.
“You’ve been working so hard all this time at the Bai family’s house, Brother.”
“They can’t see it—not because you aren’t good enough, but because they’re afraid you’re too good.”
She loosened her arms slightly and looked up at Bai Siyuan with complete seriousness.
“Brother, you’re amazing. You’ll definitely get everything you want.”
Bai Siyuan lowered his head and looked at her. Something trembled faintly in his eyes.
After a long while, he raised his hand and rubbed the top of her head.
“…Can I really get it all?”
Jiang Nuan nodded firmly.
“You can.”
Her thoughts had been simple back then.
She thought her brother would reclaim the projects that had been taken from him.
He would earn the Bai family’s acknowledgment.
One day, he would no longer need to sneak over late at night just to see her, and he would no longer have to bow his head to everyone.
Bai Siyuan gazed at her and suddenly gave a very faint smile.
“All right. I’ll definitely get it all.”
*
At the same time.
When Qinian emerged from the infirmary, he lowered his head and glanced at his terminal.
From the moment he had entered the restricted zone until now, the terminal showed that only a little over two hours had passed.
But when he looked up at the enormous clock outside the academic building, he saw that it was already eight-thirty.
Qinian frowned.
Only two hours had passed on his terminal, yet four hours had already passed on campus.
It was as though time here had been forcibly fast-forwarded, dragging the entire campus toward the midnight verification.
Even more strangely, it was only eight-thirty on a summer evening, yet the sky had already gone completely dark.
An impenetrable night pressed down over the campus. The academic buildings, athletic field, and dormitories had been reduced to nothing more than vague black silhouettes.
A few streetlamps were still lit, but their dim yellow light was spaced too far apart to illuminate the road or drive away the darkness.
Qinian was extremely irritated.
He was afraid of the dark.
But fear was one thing. If he ignited a conspicuous flame in his palm right now, he would only attract every monster nearby.
Keeping his footsteps light, he followed behind two students.
“Today’s the first day of the semester,” one of the boys said. “You have to keep your enrollment certificate safe.”
The other nodded immediately.
“Of course. It’s the most important thing. I’m keeping it right against my body.”
“So am I,” the first boy agreed.
The corners of Qinian’s lips slowly curled upward.
What luck.
The two figures had just turned into the narrow alley between the academic building and the dormitory when a swift gust of wind suddenly swept past from behind.
Qinian grabbed both of them by the collars and dragged them violently into the shadows between the two buildings.
The two opened their mouths.
But not a single sound came out.
The flames in Qinian’s palms surged higher, yet he continued compressing them in his hands, keeping their brightness to an absolute minimum.
The flames twisted around their limbs like two slender fire snakes.
“Don’t move.” His gaze was devoid of warmth. “If you dare make a sound, I’ll burn you until not even your ashes remain.”
The two “students” began struggling violently.
Only then did Qinian notice that their skin had taken on an unnatural blue-black hue in the firelight.
They were not alive at all.
One of them raised its head, its eyes stiffly rotating toward Qinian.
“Class…mate…”
The corners of its mouth slowly split into a grin.
“Are you…going to report in too?”
Qinian expressionlessly raised his foot and kicked the back of its knee.
Crack.
The thing’s leg bent at a grotesque angle, yet it did not cry out in pain. Instead, it continued to wear that rigid smile.
Qinian’s frown deepened.
He hated these things that liked to pretend to be human.
He crouched down and reached into the inner pockets of their clothes. After rummaging around twice, he found the two enrollment certificates.
He picked up one of them and held it near the flames in his palm.
Enrollment Certificate
Name: Wu Yu
Student ID: 0473
Enrollment Status: Freshman
Date of Enrollment: Today
“All right. Done.”
Qinian snapped his fingers.
A few seconds later, only two piles of black ash remained on the ground. A gust of wind scattered them until not a trace was left.
Qinian lowered his head and brushed at the nonexistent ash on his hands.
He was about to put the two enrollment certificates back into the inner pockets and return to the infirmary to regroup.
But when Qinian looked at the certificate again, his expression froze.
The name Wu Yu first became blurred, then slowly solidified into a new name.
Enrollment Certificate
Name: Qinian
Student ID: 0473
Enrollment Status: Freshman
And in the column that had originally displayed the date of enrollment, a line of scarlet text slowly appeared.
Time of Death: Midnight tonight.
