Qiu Kui’s cooking was still delicious, but tonight Qiu Mian felt the meal suited her tastes even more than usual.
After dinner, Qiu Kui took the initiative to clear the dishes while Qiu Mian showered and returned to her own room, ready to resume the “investigation” she had yet to finish.
During the day at school, unexpected factors like Xia Qingkong and Misaki had kept interrupting her focus.
Now, in this private space that belonged only to “Qiu Mian,” she might finally uncover something.
There has to be a connection between the “original host’s” past, Misaki’s words, Shimizu Yuzu’s fox mask, and the “villain” role the system mentioned.
The original host couldn’t have left absolutely no traces.
A diary? Photos? Old belongings?
Qiu Mian closed the door firmly, turned on the light, and began to examine the room with care. The decor was simple, almost austere.
A bed, a tidy desk, a wardrobe, and a modest bookshelf.
The color scheme leaned toward blue, purple, and gray—fitting for “Qiu Mian.”
She went to the desk first.
The surface was spotless, holding only a few textbooks, reference books, a pen holder, and a desk lamp.
The drawers were locked, and the key was nowhere obvious.
She gave one a tug. It didn’t budge.
Locked? What’s inside?
She moved on to the bookshelf.
Most of the books were school-related, along with some dense-looking literature and philosophy titles, but every volume looked brand-new, as if it had never been opened.
No photo albums, no diaries, nothing personal at all.
The wardrobe held only a handful of clothes, all simple in style and mostly dark colors. She checked every pocket. Empty.
Too clean… deliberately wiped of any trace of daily life.
Unwilling to give up, Qiu Mian crouched down and peered under the bed.
Several storage boxes were stacked beneath it.
She dragged them out with some effort.
The first contained off-season clothes and bedding. The second held unused stationery and miscellaneous items.
The third box was the heaviest, sealed tightly with tape.
Qiu Mian’s pulse quickened. She fetched a pair of scissors and carefully sliced the tape open.
Inside were old textbooks from elementary school through high school.
The books were well preserved, but aside from neat notes, they contained nothing else.
She flipped through them one by one until, in a math textbook, she found a slightly yellowed sheet of paper tucked between the pages.
It was a report card.
The name was Qiu Mian. The grades were outstanding—nearly all perfect scores.
But on the back, written in pencil, were a few scribbled words, the handwriting crooked and full of suppressed irritation.
Stay away from me.
There was no date or signature, yet Qiu Mian could almost picture the “original Qiu Mian” writing those words and exactly how she had felt at the time.
Lonely? World-weary?
She carefully returned the report card and kept searching.
At the very bottom of the box, her fingers brushed against something hard.
It was a flat metal box, about the size of an A4 sheet.
An old-fashioned four-digit combination lock was set into the front.
The box itself was light. When she shook it gently, she heard the faint rustle of paper inside.
Found it!
Qiu Mian’s heart leaped. She lifted the box out with great care and set it on the floor.
The lock was four digits.
What could the code be? Birthday? Student ID? Last four digits of a phone number? Or… something to do with Qiu Kui?
She tried “Qiu Mian’s” birthday. Wrong.
She tried the last four digits of the phone number. Wrong again. Student ID? Still incorrect.
Just as she was concentrating, her fingers absently stroking the lock while she considered other possibilities—
Knock, knock-knock.
A soft rap sounded on the door.
“—!”
Qiu Mian jumped so violently she nearly flung the box across the room. Like a thief caught red-handed, she shoved it behind her back. Her voice cracked with fright. “Wh-who is it?!”
The hallway fell silent for a second, then Qiu Kui’s soft reply came through.
“…Jie-jie, it’s me.”
Qiu Kui?
What was she doing here so late?
Qiu Mian shot a quick glance at the box hidden behind her, then at the door. She took a deep breath.
She hastily stuffed the box back under the bed, kicked the open storage box farther in with her foot, and only then stood up. She walked to the door but didn’t open it right away. Still shaken, she asked through the wood, “What is it?”
Qiu Kui outside seemed to hesitate before speaking again, her voice even smaller and carrying a strangely off tone.
“Jie-jie… c-can I come in?”
Qiu Mian frowned.
This late? Into her room?
Qiu Kui almost never came near her room on her own, let alone at this hour.
“What exactly do you want?”
Qiu Mian didn’t open the door, pressing for an answer.
Her mind was still on the box under the bed.
Silence stretched for several seconds outside.
Then Qiu Kui spoke again, this time sounding as though she had gathered her courage.
“I… I’m a little scared of the dark… Tonight… could I… sleep with Jie-jie?”
Sleep together?!
Qiu Mian’s mind buzzed. She wondered if she had misheard.
Scared of the dark? Sleep together?
No, no—the box is what matters right now!
In her panic she fell back on her daytime tone. “Go back to your own room first!”
The words came out fierce, but anyone listening closely would have caught the note of fluster.
Yet no footsteps retreated outside. Instead, the soft click of the doorknob turning reached her ears.
Click.
The door opened from the outside.
Before Qiu Mian could react, Qiu Kui’s figure appeared in the doorway.
The moment Qiu Mian saw her clearly, her brain short-circuited again.
Qiu Kui standing there had obviously just finished showering.
Her light-linen hair was still damp, tiny sparkling droplets clinging to the tips.
She wore only a thin nightgown.
The fabric clung to the curves of her tall figure, outlining full, soft lines.
The hem barely reached the top of her thighs, revealing two long, straight legs.
Fresh from the bath, her skin glowed with a healthy pink flush.
The nightgown’s straps were delicate, slipping loosely over her rounded shoulders. A small expanse of snowy-white skin showed at her chest, rising and falling gently with each breath.
The neckline dipped low, offering a hint of deep cleavage that assaulted Qiu Mian’s gaze.
Worst of all, Qiu Kui seemed completely unaware of how “striking” she looked in that outfit.
She kept her head slightly lowered, lashes trembling, fingers nervously tugging at the thin hem of the nightgown, looking uneasy.
The warm scent of her post-bath skin drifted toward Qiu Mian.
“Jie-jie…”
“Just… just for tonight, okay? I promise I won’t disturb you…”
As she spoke, she inched forward another half-step.
The nightgown swayed lightly with the movement, making the breathtaking curves even more pronounced under the lamplight.
Qiu Mian felt blood rushing madly to her head. Her ears rang. She had no idea where to look! Everywhere was forbidden territory!
Look at her face! No! Below the neck… absolutely not! No way!
“Y-you came out dressed like that?!” Qiu Mian’s voice cracked. She pointed a trembling finger at Qiu Kui, then yanked her hand back as if burned.
“What do you look like! Go back and put on proper clothes!”
“But… isn’t this what people wear to sleep…”
Qiu Kui offered a tiny defense and shuffled another small step closer, nearly pressing against Qiu Mian.
The warm breath hit her more clearly now, raising goosebumps across her skin.
“All my nightgowns… are like this…” Qiu Kui’s voice grew smaller and smaller, her face redder and redder, yet her eyes remained fixed on Qiu Mian with stubborn determination.
“Jie-jie… it’s cold out here… We… should get on the bed to talk, okay?”
Get where? On the bed?!
Before Qiu Mian could react, Qiu Kui’s warm, soft hand gently caught her wrist and drew her toward the bed.
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