Jiang Nuan frowned and slowly turned around.
Ji Chuying was standing behind her. Jiang Nuan had no idea when she had arrived. The two of them were separated by only a single step.
They were far too close.
The instant Jiang Nuan turned, she nearly collided with Ji Chuying’s face.
Her body instinctively recoiled, her heel catching on the edge of the step above.
As her foot slid backward, she had the fleeting impression that there was nothing behind her.
As if one more step would send her heel over the edge, plunging her straight into the darkness hidden behind the staircase.
She stopped herself just in time.
Ji Chuying tilted her face up at her, her eyes utterly still. Her feet were together, resting quietly on the step, as though she had been standing there for a long time.
But Jiang Nuan had clearly heard the footsteps following hers up the stairs just moments ago.
When she stopped, the other person stopped too.
When she walked, the other person walked.
When had Ji Chuying caught up with her?
And why was she so close when Jiang Nuan turned around?
Jiang Nuan’s gaze slowly traveled down from her face.
Ji Chuying was wearing a clean pair of white canvas shoes, the toes pressed together as they rested on the step.
“Jiang Nuan, why did you come back so late?”
She spoke so naturally, as if they had known each other for years.
“I waited for you in the dorm for so long. When you still hadn’t come back, I thought something had happened to you, so I came out to look for you.”
As she said this, her eyes even held genuine concern.
That only sent a chill down Jiang Nuan’s back.
Ji Chuying didn’t look like she was lying. At least in this moment, she seemed to truly believe that she had been worrying about Jiang Nuan in the dorm the whole time.
And she truly believed that, since Jiang Nuan had been gone so long, she should have come looking for her.
As for standing so close and silently matching Jiang Nuan’s footsteps on the stairs, perhaps there was nothing wrong with that in Ji Chuying’s mind either.
Because they were “best friends.”
As for the question she had asked… Jiang Nuan curled her fingers into her palm.
Qi Sui’s warning still echoed in her mind: Don’t answer anyone’s questions.
The more questions she answered, the easier it would be to accept that she belonged here. Until one day, she would truly come to think of this place as her school.
Jiang Nuan did not answer Ji Chuying’s question about why she had returned so late.
She backed up one step, putting a little more distance between herself and that face.
Only when her foot landed firmly on the step did she let out a breath of relief.
The stairs were still there.
“I need to hurry and pack my things. The lights will be going out soon,” Jiang Nuan said.
The smile on Ji Chuying’s face did not change.
“Yes.”
She answered softly.
“They’ll be checking the dorms soon.”
Jiang Nuan said nothing more. She turned and continued up the stairs.
After walking a few steps, she discreetly checked her own state of mind. She did not suddenly find Ji Chuying more pleasing to look at, nor did she inexplicably feel the urge to hurry back to the dorm and lie down.
Thank goodness. She hadn’t been affected.
It seemed that as long as she didn’t answer the other person’s questions, she wouldn’t be affected for the time being.
Jiang Nuan continued toward the third floor.
Footsteps soon sounded behind her again.
Tap.
Tap.
Ji Chuying continued following her.
Still only one step behind.
When Jiang Nuan walked faster, she did too.
When Jiang Nuan deliberately slowed down, her footsteps slowed with her.
She neither overtook Jiang Nuan nor fell half a step behind.
Like a shadow clinging to her back.
Jiang Nuan kept her expression neutral, but her shoulders gradually tightened.
She suddenly realized that she seemed to have been walking for far too long.
There shouldn’t have been so many steps between the second and third floors.
Yet the warm-colored light remained suspended ahead of her. The staircase continued upward, while the third-floor landing refused to appear.
She couldn’t even remember how many steps she had climbed.
The footsteps behind her continued at an unhurried pace.
Tap.
Tap.
She glanced at the wall beside her from the corner of her eye.
The warm yellow light cast her moving shadow onto the wall as she climbed. The thin shadow of the handrail slanted through the middle of her body.
Other than that, she could see nothing clearly.
Ji Chuying’s shadow seemed to have merged with hers.
Or perhaps—
she had no shadow at all.
The footsteps behind her continued.
Jiang Nuan deliberately disrupted her rhythm.
She climbed two steps in a row.
Paused.
Then slowly lifted her foot again.
Not a single beat of sound behind her was missed.
Tap, tap.
A pause.
Tap.
Every sound landed exactly together with the soles of her own shoes.
Their footsteps had completely merged.
Jiang Nuan could no longer tell whether there was one set of footsteps in the stairwell or two.
She even began to wonder if the footsteps behind her existed at all.
Perhaps there had only ever been her own footsteps in the stairwell.
Perhaps the empty walls had simply reflected the sound back, creating the illusion that someone was following her.
But Ji Chuying had really been standing behind her.
Jiang Nuan had seen her with her own eyes just moments ago.
Several times, she wanted to turn around.
But whenever the thought arose, Ji Chuying’s soft breathing would drift from behind her.
Very close.
So close that the back of Jiang Nuan’s neck prickled, as if someone’s nose were just about to brush against it.
Strands of soft hair stirred in the cool breaths and grazed the side of her ear.
Jiang Nuan did not turn around. The Moon Blade had already taken shape in her palm.
The moment Ji Chuying took even half a step forward, she would strike without hesitation.
But the person behind her never actually touched her.
That tiny distance between them remained unchanged—neither more nor less.
“Walking the stairs alone at night is dangerous,” Ji Chuying said softly.
“We should go back to the dorm together.”
As she spoke the final few words, a chill brushed against Jiang Nuan’s ear, as if someone had blown cold air directly into it.
“Best friends are supposed to go back together.”
