Chapter 9: Shopping, Shopping, Shopping

March 18, 2024, morning, Qingtan City.

Xueqiu froze, as if high-voltage wires had wrapped around her body, pinning her in place.

She didn’t turn around but instantly recognized the voice calling her.

Jiang Cheng, whom she’d seen just a day ago.

Would he recognize me like this?

No, he must’ve mistaken me for someone else.

Xueqiu hesitated, then turned.

Beside her, Xia Yin offered no help.

He’d been leaning on the rusty railing since earlier, gazing at the field, acting like an outsider.

“Sorry, my mistake.”

Jiang Cheng stood at the staircase turn to the fourth floor.

Realizing the figure ahead wasn’t the Xueqiu he knew but a girl with her hair hidden under a white hoodie, he gave an awkward smile.

Xueqiu stayed silent, unsure what to do.

Admitting she was Xueqiu was impossible.

But if she didn’t, would he think she was a suspicious intruder?

Her cold hand instinctively grabbed the open edge of Xia Yin’s jacket under her sleeve.

She pinned her hopes on the boy spectating from the sidelines.

“Let’s go, little sister. Looks like our dumb brother isn’t in class.”

“Oh, by the way, classmate, where’s the school office? My brother got a disciplinary notice. The teacher called this morning, said a parent needs to take him home. Our parents are out of town, so we’re handling it.”

Xia Yin stretched casually, strolling up to Jiang Cheng to ask.

Jiang Cheng hesitated, then silently pointed to a corner at the end of the hall before climbing the stairs, as if he’d never seen them.

Watching his retreating figure, Xueqiu sighed softly.

Relief, like a stone settling, mixed with a quiet pang of melancholy.

As expected, he doesn’t recognize me in this form.

What about Su Qingyuan?

She’d probably see me as a stranger too.

No one in this world knows me anymore.

“Looks like he’s your classmate. Maybe a friend? Well, a loner like you probably doesn’t have many. Besides that girl yesterday and him, anyone else?”

Xia Yin’s words never stopped.

This time, he led the way, guiding Xueqiu downstairs as the broadcast announced the end of the flag-raising speech.

Xueqiu shook her head.

“By the way, what’s that guy’s name? Can you share?” Xia Yin asked, stepping off the last stair to the first floor.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“Really? Same as you and me—one surname, one given name. That’s some kinda fate in an era of ABB and ABC names, huh? Not important, though. Point is, your friend seems… mature.”

Xueqiu didn’t catch his meaning.

She remembered Jiang Cheng was eighteen, like her, just half a year older since his birthday came earlier.

The morning assembly ended.

The hooded girl trailing Xia Yin heard the clamor of students leaving the field.

Some swapped weekly test scores, others shared weekend plans.

Laughter and chatter surged like a tide.

Before retracing their steps to leave the school, Xueqiu felt a gaze on her back, silently watching her and Xia Yin.

But when she turned, there was nothing.

After leaving the school, Xia Yin didn’t ditch Xueqiu.

Instead, he took her to Qingtan City’s only Wanda Plaza.

It was 987 meters from the school, per the navigation app.

Being a weekday before noon, the plaza was nearly empty except for them.

Xueqiu followed Xia Yin like a docile kitten, silent the whole way.

Logically, someone like him had no reason to stick with her.

But whenever she thought of that blade, that tentacle monster, her curiosity about Xia Yin’s identity grew.

Over the past two days, she’d taken his words seriously, looking up the things he mentioned that night—apostles, ghouls, hybrids, dragon kings.

She knew Xia Yin was using these to help her understand what “Shadow Ghosts” were.

But it didn’t explain what happened after he left that night.

“Hey, why’d you stop? Not going in? It’s just a quick look. You’re shy? I’m the one who should be shy.”

Before she knew it, Xia Yin had led her to the women’s clothing section.

“No… you don’t need to bother,” Xueqiu said, lowering her head at the sight of colorful undergarments in the glass display.

Meanwhile, a saleswoman, fresh on her shift, began pitching to Xia Yin.

Since becoming this undeniably feminine self, Xueqiu had searched Baidu and Bing for topics like “differences between women and men,” “female physiology,” “pregnancy.”

But even today, she hadn’t adjusted or fully accepted this identity.

She knew she’d have to live as a woman until she understood why her body changed.

Yet, not even a day later, Xia Yin brought her here.

“This lace-embroidered sleep bra is our Valentine’s Day limited edition!” the saleswoman chirped, pulling Xueqiu back to reality.

“For a fair-skinned miss like your girlfriend, champagne suits her vibe!”

Xueqiu wanted to clarify she and Xia Yin weren’t a couple but couldn’t find a better excuse.

She couldn’t exactly tell the saleswoman she turned like this after a tentacle monster stabbed her heart and nearly killed her.

After some back-and-forth—or rather, when Xia Yin led her out with a full shopping bag—Xueqiu felt like her whole body was on fire.

“I’m thinking your Contract shouldn’t be fire-based, so why’s your face red like a chili?” Xia Yin said, exiting the WeChat payment screen.

He opened the camera, aimed at Xueqiu’s face, and snapped a click.

In a blink, Xueqiu’s face calmed.

“Contract, fire-based… is that like a ‘Word Spirit’?” she asked.

“Holy— you actually looked it up? How far’d you get? I’m only at Dragon Raja*’s Egg-Stewed Mushroom 137. Tomorrow’s the one-year anniversary of its hiatus… Wait, not the point. Let me think…”

Xia Yin handed her the shopping bag.

“It’s kinda similar, makes it easier for you to get. But there’s no dragons or Cassel College in this world. You won’t be shipped off to America either, though they’ve got their own school over there—Pompeii University or something…”

“Here’s an example: think of it like a disease. Diseases have symptoms. They show up after the incubation period. Contracts are like that.”

“Symptoms?” Xueqiu watched the mall elevator descend from 5 to 1, deciding to probe further.

“Yup. Usually, you notice them yourself. Like waking up one day with glowing eyes—that’s one. But most people only spot their Contract during the entrance exam.”

Xia Yin patted her shoulder, adopting a senior’s earnest tone.

When Xueqiu didn’t react, he coughed awkwardly.

“I haven’t noticed my Contract,” Xueqiu said.

“That’s normal. You’re one of the majority,” Xia Yin shrugged.

“Is there a cure for this disease?”

“Nope,” he said firmly.