Chapter 6: Snow and Glass
The dead don’t come back.
Just like Mom and Dad, who passed away five years ago.
Grandma is gone forever too.
But…
Can I refuse?
“If I agree, can I have some time… to prepare?” Xueqiu asked, fidgeting with her snow-white hair.
“You have seven days of free time.”
As if he’d predicted she wouldn’t refuse, Carlos started the aging minivan.
“Seven days from now, you’ll be a member of Ting’an University’s Spiritual Academy.”
“Life at the Spiritual Academy isn’t as great as you might think. Fail too many classes, you’ll get held back. Even if you graduate, not everyone becomes a ‘Pivot.’ Oh, and even if you do, some defect. Hesitant types like you? I know eight of them. Congrats, you’re the ninth.”
Xia Yin’s chatter went on, as if he’d keep talking to himself if she didn’t respond.
Xueqiu had no idea how to deal with someone like him.
“Did they… also ride in a car like this to the Academy?” she asked after a moment’s thought.
“What else? You think there’s a special train for you? Dream on. No CC1000 express or Platform Nine and Three-Quarters here. This isn’t a red Ferrari or a black Maybach either—just a five-year-old Wuling Hongguang.”
Five minutes later, the minivan stopped precisely in front of Xueqiu’s apartment complex.
She opened the door.
Carlos and Xia Yin didn’t get out.
“Aren’t you worried I’ll run away or… tell someone about the Shadow Ghosts?” Xueqiu hesitated, gripping the door handle.
“You won’t, because…”
“Because they’ll think you’re crazy!”
Xia Yin cut off Carlos, shifting from his earlier polite posture to sprawling across the seat Xueqiu had just vacated.
The blade was back in his hand, not reflecting even a sliver of light under the streetlamp.
“Just realized you’re a white-haired, blue-eyed little sister now, huh? Lucky your complex doesn’t have facial recognition, or you’d be sleeping on the street.”
Xueqiu waited, but all she got was the boy’s teasing remark.
Noon, heavy rain.
Qingtan City’s drainage system was notoriously bad.
In her eighteen years, Xueqiu’s schools had flooded at least five times.
Once, it was so bad the city rescue team had to deploy rubber boats.
But today, she didn’t have to worry about that.
When Xueqiu woke, her phone on the nightstand had over twenty unread messages.
She opened it, swiping away junk news.
What caught her eye was Jiang Cheng’s pink-haired anime girl QQ avatar.
[Morning study’s starting. Where you at?] 07:12
[You got a fever? For real? Didn’t pass out from studying, did ya?] 07:34
[Good thing you skipped this morning. That fat pig teacher ripped into everyone who bombed the genetics questions. Your paper was a bloodbath of red X’s…] 10:24
Xueqiu closed her phone, unsure whether to cry or laugh.
Two seconds later, remembering last night, she told herself she should cry.
Should wail her heart out.
But for some reason, she couldn’t squeeze out a single tear or even whimper.
She thought of the scene at the police station that morning.
She rushed to the bathroom.
Sure enough, the mirror showed a girl with shoulder-length white hair and skin so fair it seemed you could pinch water from it.
The girl’s face was expressionless.
Xueqiu stood on tiptoe; the white-haired girl in the mirror did too.
Did I get shorter too?
She let out a soft hum, hearing a voice even softer than when she met Xia Yin last night.
She tried talking to her reflection.
From a simple “hello” to repeating her police statement.
But the voice remained delicate, undeniably girlish.
She touched herself from forehead to toes, checking ten times before accepting the truth.
I’ve turned into a girl.
No scream echoed in the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later, she quietly opened the door and returned to the living room, just as she’d entered.
What do I do now?
She thought of Xia Yin, his words, and Carlos, the blond foreigner with perfect Mandarin.
What am I now?
A ghost?
Xueqiu picked up her phone, regretting not getting their contact info yesterday.
Then it hit her—they knew where she lived, where she studied, where she’d be last night.
A chill ran down her spine.
Ding-dong—*
The doorbell rang.
Xueqiu’s first thought was Xia Yin, the “senior” who’d spouted a bunch of nonsense.
She hadn’t forgotten his piercing gaze from that morning.
But through the peephole, she saw only a girl.
She knew her—Su Qingyuan, a classmate.
Their relationship wasn’t close, but not bad either.
More like half-friends.
In her first year of high school, like many teenage boys, Xueqiu had a vague crush on Su Qingyuan.
But those feelings were buried under the weight of schoolwork.
Why she’d come here in the rain, Xueqiu had no clue.
“Xueqiu? You home?” Su Qingyuan’s bell-like voice came through the door.
Xueqiu instinctively wanted to answer but stopped, covering her mouth.
With her current voice, Su Qingyuan would think a girl lived here, not “Xueqiu.”
What do I do?
Ignore her? That seemed best.
But what about later?
Never contact her or Jiang Cheng again?
The thought cracked something inside Xueqiu, but it quickly sealed shut, holding back the bitter flood.
Then, she saw a figure at the end of the hallway.
It approached, revealing none other than Xia Yin.
He held an opaque paper box in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in the other, heading straight for her apartment.
What’s he doing here?
“Are you Xueqiu’s friend?” Xia Yin’s voice came through the door.
“Um, who are you?”
“Me? I’m Xueqiu’s cousin. He’s not home, but I’ll pass on your regards.” Xia Yin chuckled, lying with a straight face.
The girl said goodbye and faded down the hallway.
Then, a jet-black pupil appeared in the peephole, startling Xueqiu so much she nearly jumped.
“You can open the door now, Xueqiu. Not nice to leave your savior out in the cold.”
Xueqiu’s hand rested on the handle.
An untimely thought struck her—what if she didn’t open it?
What if she left Xia Yin out there?
Would he kick the door down?
“Don’t hesitate, don’t hesitate, let me in, Autumn Pear Paste! I didn’t come empty-handed.”
He shook the paper box lightly.
“This damn cake’s been in my hand for almost two hours. If you don’t open the door, it might end up splattered on it when my arm gives out.”