Pei Zhao did not answer Qin Shu’s question.
Or rather, he answered it in a very strange way.
He raised his head and met Qin Shu’s deeply inquisitive gaze, then lifted the corners of his lips and revealed a smile Qin Shu had never seen before.
It was soft, almost radiant. His beautiful foxlike eyes curved into long, slender arcs, and a mischievous gleam of teasing flashed through his golden-amber pupils.
He looked Qin Shu up and down, watching as Qin Shu’s expression gradually changed from solemn seriousness to blank, stunned distraction.
Then Pei Zhao leaned several inches closer. His icy fingers pressed against Qin Shu’s burning cheek and rubbed it lightly for a moment before he very clearly laughed twice.
“Haha.”
That was right.
It was exactly that kind of soft laugh.
The image branded itself into Qin Shu’s mind and refused to fade. Even the special livestream of Detective for a Day that aired after lunch seemed utterly dull to him.
On television, the host Liang Ming Yue had changed into the crisp uniform that Jiangcheng viewers loved to see, looking strikingly heroic.
She stood beside Xing Yong, who had just returned from his business trip, forming a one-day special investigative team. Together with the young detective who had only recently arrived in Jiangcheng, she set off toward their target—the Blackhearted Paper Effigy Shop on Pedestrian Street—to investigate the severed-finger case from early that morning.
The available clues were extremely limited, the crime scene was bizarre, the impact of the case was severe, and the suspect was still at large. A highly time-sensitive livestream like this naturally attracted far more viewers and attention than usual. Jiangcheng police had been rather bold in trying this approach, hoping to find more witnesses and uncover a breakthrough as quickly as possible.
Qin Shu normally loved programs like this. Whenever there was a special weekend livestream, he would sit glued to the television, sometimes too absorbed even to remember to eat.
And this one was airing on New Year’s Day, with someone Qin Shu knew personally appearing as a guest. Normally, he would have found it especially interesting.
But today, Qin Shu simply could not immerse himself in the livestream.
He and Pei Zhao went to Tang Rui Cheng’s house again and shamelessly freeloaded lunch. Under Su Ting Lian’s satisfied gaze, the three of them rapidly finished all their weekend homework.
After taking the milk tea Su Ting Lian had ordered for them, Qin Shu returned home, packed up his schoolbag, and opened the punching bag and freestanding heavy bag he had ordered online.
He bit his fingertip and dripped blood onto the wrist of the gloves. Only then did he truly appreciate how ingenious the magical artifact was. Once the gloves fitted seamlessly against his skin, they became completely transparent, genuinely as thin as cicada wings.
Even when Qin Shu carefully examined them under the sunlight, he could see no trace of them. He could still unlock electronic devices with his fingerprint, and even the small wound on his fingertip rapidly healed without a mark.
That was excellent.
Qin Shu silently kept the gloves on and carefully tested the hard punching bag while restraining his strength. There was a distinct sense of impact, but almost no recoil whatsoever. The effect was extremely good.
Even so, he could not summon much excitement.
Pei Zhao had already made his brain go completely blank earlier. Qin Shu felt like a short-circuited wire that had initially spat out bzzzt, bzzzt sparks without stopping, only to burn itself out completely until everything else seemed dull by comparison.
He wanted Pei Zhao to smile like that again. Pei Zhao looked at him several times as though he wanted to say something, then obediently tried…
But he could not do it.
His emotions were not in the right place. He genuinely could not force out the same smile.
“One expression. Enough to make a man lose sleep for three days.”
“…What?”
“Zhaozhao, you wouldn’t understand. I used to think it was just some stupid internet meme too. Now I finally understand.”
Qin Shu sighed mournfully, grieving alone.
When he returned to school that afternoon, the brightly illuminated campus, the elaborately decorated stage on the sports field, and the night-market street transformed from the wide driveway still failed to pull Qin Shu completely out of his strange daze.
The smell of barbecue spread through the air. Students who had returned early eagerly flooded into the night market, wandering among the stalls set up by the younger students.
Members of the anime club and hanfu club were frantically doing their makeup, the street-dance club was holding its final rehearsal, and students were distributing tickets for the fair along with promotional posters for the stage play that would be performed indoors later that evening.
The boys and girls were full of energy, laughing and chattering nonstop. Elaborate skirts and costumes swayed beneath the brilliant red sunset, making the whole campus extraordinarily lively.
This was a New Year’s Day campus event held only once a year. On this particular day, the students’ natural impulses—usually suppressed to the limit by schoolwork and regulations—were allowed a little room to breathe.
Ever since the principal more than a decade ago had approved the event, the annual peak in suicide attempts at Jiangcheng No. 2 High School had noticeably eased and fallen below the average. The tradition had therefore continued every year since.
“Brother Qin, want to go eat at the sophomores’ stalls? One class had a parent bring in this insanely high-end grill. They’ve literally started making burgers. It smells amazing!”
“You guys go. I’m not hungry yet.”
“Brother Qin, there’s this absolute legend in the stage area cosplaying Kamen Rider Kabuto! He came in the full suit and looks insanely cool! Haven’t you heard? Come on, come on, let’s go get a photo!”
Elio’s Notes: Kamen Rider Kabuto is the title character of the 2006 Japanese tokusatsu series of the same name. In Chinese cosplay circles, 集邮—literally “collecting stamps”—can jokingly refer to taking photos with multiple cosplayers.
“Really? No rush. I’ll go later.”
“Brother Qin, you still haven’t picked up your fair tickets? Even the class monitor already went downstairs. These are all that’s left for our class. This one’s yours, and that one’s the academic representative’s… Tang Rui Cheng isn’t coming? Then are you taking his too?”
“It’s fine. You take it and have fun. We won’t need that many.”
…
The Advanced Class classroom became empty once again, and the entire senior-year corridor was quiet.
After sending away all the classmates who had tried to drag him out to play, Qin Shu tossed his phone onto a small mountain of exam papers. The Detective for a Day livestream continued playing, but he barely paid attention.
As soon as the last student left the classroom, Qin Shu practically collapsed onto Pei Zhao like an enormous clingy golden retriever, pressing his head against Pei Zhao’s cheek and the side of his neck and rubbing back and forth. If he had not been worried about whether the desks and chairs could bear the weight, Qin Shu would have happily sat directly on him.
“Qin Shu, what exactly is wrong with you?”
Pei Zhao finally reached the limit of his patience. He slipped a hand under the hem of Qin Shu’s shirt, pressed his palm against him like a block of ice, pinched the soft flesh at Qin Shu’s waist, and twisted.
“Hiss… I don’t know either. Maybe you should touch me some more?”
“…Hm?”
Pei Zhao froze. He immediately tried to pull his hand back, only for Qin Shu to suddenly seize his wrist and prevent him from moving.
Qin Shu still did not budge. One hand held Pei Zhao’s wrist firmly in place, while the other rested against the back of his neck, his fingers lightly rubbing the stray hairs there. He remained silent for a long time before finally speaking.
“Zhaozhao, you’re cold. I feel better when I’m pressed against you.”
He lowered his head and looked at Pei Zhao. A few faint bloodshot threads were visible in his dark eyes, while his black lashes cast shadows when he lowered them, like a haze tinged faintly with dark red.
The pressure coming from him suddenly felt rather intense.
Pei Zhao bit his lip slightly. For a fleeting instant, his eyes became unfocused before he quietly asked, “Do you feel very hot?”
“Mm. My whole body feels hot. It’s weird. I’ve had this really strange feeling ever since this morning…”
Qin Shu leaned down again and pressed their foreheads together. “Like this. Can you tell how hot I am? It can’t be because spring is coming, right?”
His tone was aggrieved and troubled, almost muttering, yet his actions conveyed something entirely different.
Pei Zhao was trapped between the narrow desks, with the cold wall behind him and Qin Shu’s warm breath and burning face directly in front of him.
When he had gone out that afternoon, Pei Zhao had even worn Qin Shu’s sweatshirt, the loose, thick fleece enveloping him softly. Qin Shu’s scent had completely soaked into him from head to toe. There was nowhere to escape it.
So Pei Zhao began urgently thinking of a solution.
“Qin Shu, you need an outlet.”
“…Huh?”
In an instant, Qin Shu became the one staring blankly.
He stammered, “Is… is that something you can just say out loud?”
Pei Zhao glanced at him and said flatly, “Find a few little ghosts and beat them to death. You’ll feel much better afterward. That’s the kind of outlet I meant… What were you thinking?”
“Cough. Nothing. My brain malfunctioned.”
Qin Shu’s ears grew hot. He finally realized that his current position was also extremely questionable. He had squeezed Pei Zhao so tightly into the corner that Pei Zhao could barely move, curled up there looking small while the accusation in his eyes was unmistakable.
Qin Shu jolted upright at once, locked his phone, shoved it into his pocket, and rubbed his ear while coughing awkwardly. “Then… should we go now? We can walk around the night market on the way.”
“Mm. Let’s go.”
Pei Zhao slowly stood as well and straightened the wrinkled sweatshirt he was wearing, returning once more to his usual faintly calm appearance.
Yet some things had changed.
Perhaps they could never return to the casual normality they had once had.
For some reason, neither of them spoke as they left the classroom side by side, crossed the corridor, and started down the stairs, walking very close together.
Their shoulders brushed. Fabric whispered softly against fabric. The backs of their hands hanging beside their legs bumped together every so often.
The difference in their body temperatures was so great that whenever their skin touched, it almost felt as though some strange electrical current rushed through their fingertips and flowed upward along their arms, quietly making the atmosphere between them thick and sticky.
Qin Shu could not resist.
In front of Pei Zhao, he had always found it difficult to restrain his thoughts. Whenever he wanted to do something, he inevitably ended up doing it sooner or later.
He suddenly grabbed Pei Zhao’s hand and enclosed it within his palm, continuing down the stairs as though nothing had happened.
Pei Zhao paused in surprise but said nothing. He quietly allowed Qin Shu to hold his hand and stride forward.
Bad habits were created by indulgence.
Pei Zhao himself had not realized it, but Qin Shu had ultimately become this way because Pei Zhao kept indulging him. Judging from the current trend…
It was probably only going to get worse.
“Senior, welcome to Stall 007! Come have some milk tea~”
“Senior, senior! Want some chicken wings stuffed with rice?”
“You two handsome seniors, would you like an instant photo? Our photographer is Xiao Liu from the photography club. We also provide makeup and styling services. Guaranteed great pictures!”
The barbecue street at No. 2 High School was extraordinarily lively. Although it was only a simple night market organized by students and nobody expected to earn much money, the younger students were overflowing with enthusiasm.
All Qin Shu had done was lead Pei Zhao quickly through the crowd by the hand, yet greetings came flying at them from every direction.
“Was I this energetic last year too? Our stall was even the top seller,” Qin Shu whispered to Pei Zhao. “They look so sunny. Full of life before the sea of exam papers crushes them…”
“You’re still very sunny,” Pei Zhao assessed objectively. “You just haven’t done enough practice papers.”
“No! Not today. Zhaozhao, can we postpone them for two days? Please? I’m really tired today.”
“…I never said you had to do them today.”
Qin Shu immediately grinned and felt much more energetic. “Speaking of which, I promised I’d buy Mr. Xu some roast chicken. Zhaozhao, did you see that fancy grill Zhang Jia Le mentioned earlier? Maybe they can roast a whole chicken. I’ll buy him one from the night market tonight and get one from Liu & Li’s tomorrow.”
“It should be near the dormitory building. Why are you giving Mr. Xu roast chicken? Did the counseling actually help you?” Pei Zhao asked with some confusion.
“Cough. There wasn’t really any counseling… but Mr. Xu is a fox spirit. A male fox. He seems to really like roast chicken.”
Qin Shu hesitated, uncertain whether he should mention that he had learned how to take a ghost pulse.
While he was still considering it, Pei Zhao had already said speechlessly, “That’s a stereotype. Fox spirits eat almost anything. They’re especially unpicky. If you let him eat people, he’ll eat them. Give him wild fruit from a field or roasted insects and he’ll happily take those too.”
“So that’s how it is! I’ll bring something different next time.”
Qin Shu listened with great interest. “Come to think of it, Zhaozhao, our school counselor is a fox spirit. Doesn’t that scare you at all?”
“No. It means he’s highly intelligent,” Pei Zhao explained. “Fox spirits have received a proper education. Cultivation is extremely difficult for animals, and they also have to learn to speak human languages. Those that aren’t intelligent simply can’t manage it.”
“Wow, that’s impressive… Tell me more.”
Pei Zhao sighed softly. “Cultivating alone isn’t enough. If they want to integrate into human society, they also have to take human form. If a spirit creature has killed people or committed evil deeds before, heavenly thunder will strike it forty-nine times during the transformation. Ordinary creatures could never survive that. Having a fox like him working as a teacher is far safer than having some wandering ghost whose background nobody knows.”
Qin Shu thought about it. “That makes sense. So does that mean Mr. Xu probably hasn’t hurt anyone? Then I definitely have to give him this roast chicken. Last time I was… not very polite to him.”
“Not very polite? For example?”
Qin Shu became slightly guilty. “I basically… um, grabbed him, pinned him against the desk by the neck, and demanded to know what kind of thing he was. Then I pressed Sister Qian against his face and scared him a little.”
“…”
Pei Zhao closed his eyes.
“We’re going to buy the roast chicken now.”
“Okay…”
Their joined hands still did not separate as they silently walked through the lively night market. Only the atmosphere became faintly awkward once again.
Of course, the awkwardness was not between the two of them.
But whenever Qin Shu thought about that innocent fox-spirit teacher, he could not help feeling embarrassed.
The man had clearly been living honestly in human society, diligently doing his job and committing no wrongdoing whatsoever, yet one of his own students had inexplicably grabbed him, frightened him, and given him a thorough scolding.
Qin Shu quickened his pace and soon reached the barbecue stall near the boys’ dormitory. The high-end grill his classmate had mentioned really did look impressive.
It was wide, enormous, and extremely eye-catching, with a brand-new black metal frame gleaming beneath the sunset and decorative lights. It even had a smoke-shielding lid that made controlling the heat easier.
The grill was covered with skewers and chicken wings sizzling with oil, along with several enormous beef patties blanketed in melted cheese. Everything looked extremely tempting.
Qin Shu’s eyes lit up. He caught the younger student who was working up a sweat beside the grill. “Hey, can you make a whole roast chicken? How much?”
“Huh? A whole one?”
The student paused, then turned around and rummaged through a small refrigerator. “Yeah, yeah, we can! But I need to figure out the price. I’ll go ask my classmate. Senior, wait here!”
“Thanks. Then I’ll just…”
Qin Shu temporarily released Pei Zhao’s hand and took out his phone, intending to pay a deposit.
Before he could finish speaking, however, the younger student hurried away and vanished in an instant.
Qin Shu looked puzzled. “He just left us here to watch the stall? Is business really that good? But I don’t see anyone lining up…”
“Hm?”
He lowered his head and examined the things arranged on the stall.
Within moments, his heart suddenly began pounding.
A familiar long, pointed blade was stuck into the corner of the makeshift stall, its sheath concealing the sinister sharpness surrounding it.
The knife was for sale.
Price: one hundred quadrillion.
One hundred quadrillion.
At first glance, the price seemed like a joke, but the more Qin Shu thought about it, the less simple it seemed.
His entire body tensed. He picked up the price card from the table and, sure enough, discovered another line of smaller writing beneath the price—apparently a special warning.
[No □□ accepted. Only Heaven-and-Earth People’s Bank joss paper. Anyone caught with □□ will be thrown into hot oil on the spot and cooked until eighty percent done.]
Elio’s Notes: The □□ appears exactly this way in the official JJWXC text and has therefore been preserved as written.
The warning instantly sent Qin Shu’s vigilance soaring to its highest level. He turned around, intending to grab Pei Zhao and get out of there immediately.
His outstretched hand met only empty air.
Pei Zhao was gone.
Without Qin Shu noticing, the No. 2 High School night market around him had also quietly transformed.
Across from him, at what had previously been a milk-tea stall, sat a horse-headed woman.
The sign that had originally read [Pearl Milk Tea] in cute cartoon lettering now displayed only two enormous, bloody characters:
“Horse Blood.”
The meaning was unclear, but unlike Qin Shu’s deserted side of the street, the stall opposite was swarming with customers.
Qin Shu forced himself to remain silent and unobtrusive. Holding the price card motionlessly, he stood where he was and watched all kinds of bizarre customers shrouded in black energy rush toward the “Horse Blood” stall.
If there was a horse-headed woman, naturally there were bull-headed men and rabbit-headed youths.
Or sometimes the arrangement was reversed entirely.
An old woman with a human head and a fish’s body sat inside a fish tank, dragging herself forward by grinding her enormous fins against the ground and leaving broad trails of thick, foul-smelling liquid behind her.
There were also quite a few customers with human heads and fox bodies. They ran lightly on all fours, weaving in groups between the legs of taller customers and occasionally sneaking ahead in line.
Whenever they were caught cutting in, the little foxes were simply sent flying by the other customers. They did not appear to be beaten to death, however. They merely drooped miserably and returned to the back of the line, continuing to wait for the bizarre “Horse Blood.”
Of course, Qin Shu also spotted some familiar old friends—the human-headed, eagle-bodied little ghosts.
They circled continuously through the dark sky, nearly invisible against the night, occasionally swooping down to steal someone else’s merchandise. One even snatched away a human-headed fox that had already been beaten half to death.
The little fox screamed miserably.
In the next instant, the packed night market abruptly fell silent.
Every customer stopped at once and turned toward the sky.
Less than half a second later, an enormous hand reached down from the heavens.
It resembled the limb of some primordial giant, vast enough to blot out the sky like a mountain range. Deep grooves and ridges covered its skin, while a strong smoky scent blew down with the wind.
Then came a single smack.
The flock of circling eagle-bodied little ghosts was brutally swatted from the air by the gigantic hand and shattered against the ground with one blow.
Black feathers rained down.
The ground became littered with foul-smelling severed limbs, shattered bones, scraps of flesh, and pulpy gore.
The previously silent beast-bodied and beast-headed customers immediately surged forward and crowded around the broken remains.
Then they began eating.
They feasted enthusiastically, completely absorbed in the meal, making impatient or satisfied grunting noises as they devoured the remains. Whatever restraint their humanlike forms had possessed vanished completely.
Meanwhile, the other translucent, humanoid customers dressed in clothing from various historical periods appeared utterly indifferent.
Once the spectacle was over, they simply turned back to whatever they had been doing before—lining up, shopping, bargaining.
Everything was remarkably harmonious.
Qin Shu remained as quiet and inconspicuous as possible. Recalling what Pei Zhao had only recently told him, he silently pulled over a chair from behind the barbecue stall and sat down to observe carefully.
The customers crawling on the ground were probably mountain spirits and wild creatures that had not yet fully cultivated human form.
As for the others…
They were genuine ghosts.
The kind that had once been human and had become ghosts after death.
This was no longer Jiangcheng No. 2 High School’s night market.
Qin Shu had no choice but to accept reality.
—He had wandered into a real ghost market.
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