Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Cheng Miao studied the girl across from her, swinging her feet and happily eating an egg. Qi Jiajia truly was a mass of contradictions.
She was intelligent, agile, and capable of spotting loopholes in an instance.
But she was also extremely unstable. Sometimes she behaved more obediently than an ordinary child her age; at others, she was an outright psychopath.
Most often, the slightest frustration made her resemble an overinflated balloon, ready to explode and injure herself along with everyone nearby.
Qi Jiajia’s occasional normal behavior and expensive clothes proved she came from an extremely wealthy family.
Had her parents never noticed their daughter’s problems? Judging by her condition, she had probably never received counseling.
The egg remained bland, but every day over the following days, Qi Jiajia found one on her bedside cabinet. Without saying anything, she always ate it clean.
There was little to do in the Dormitory. Most guests were still newcomers, and those with poor resilience had yet to recover.
Others were intensely wary of everyone, perhaps because of something that had happened in an instance. They screamed whenever anyone approached.
Thus, though the Dormitory was noisy, almost no one chatted or confided in another person. Most of the noise was helpless rage at their fate.
Only Cheng Miao visited the cockroach brothers on schedule each day. From time to time, Ah Zhang’s shrill voice rang out as it trembled with fury and ordered her to go away and stop trying to take advantage.
Whenever that happened, Qi Jiajia imagined SpongeBob, enraged by Mr. Krabs, shrieking curses with Patrick.
Qi Jiajia followed Cheng Miao like a little tail every day, though nothing pleasant ever came from her mouth. Sometimes Cheng Miao’s few sharp replies made her expressionlessly yank at her braids. Other times, she grew even happier and circled Cheng Miao with renewed enthusiasm.
The cycle repeated endlessly, and she never tired of it.
Looking at Qi Jiajia’s increasingly messy hair, Cheng Miao said, “Why don’t you just wear it loose? If you enter an instance like that, who can tell whether you’re a player or a female ghost?”
Qi Jiajia was equally helpless. No matter how filthy or disgusting, she still wore the same dirty dress.
Cheng Miao earned too much. One instance left her with the surplus an ordinary person gained from two or three. Qi Jiajia could barely keep pace.
If she spent Travel Coins on clothing and fell behind, Cheng Miao might disappear before she could catch up.
Cheng Miao could hardly bear to look at the braids that had once gleamed smoothly and now resembled a bird’s nest.
Qi Jiajia cared greatly about her appearance. An aura of despair spread around her.
“Why are you looking at me? I can’t braid hair either.” Cheng Miao shrugged. The girl should not expect the impossible.
Qi Jiajia thought for a while, then suddenly smiled, her catlike eyes curving. “Try?”
Twenty minutes later, a high ponytail sat atop Qi Jiajia’s head. It looked energetic, except Cheng Miao had tied it so tightly that the girl’s round eyes slanted upward.
“…I told you to find someone else.” Cheng Miao looked guiltily at Qi Jiajia, who now resembled a Peking opera actress.
“No need.” Qi Jiajia tugged at the hair tie. Her scalp loosened, and her eyes returned to their normal angle. “It’s good.”
Sensing another person’s gaze, Cheng Miao turned. A middle-aged woman nearby kept glancing toward Qi Jiajia, her eyes overflowing with maternal love and pity.
Imagining the rest, Cheng Miao gestured toward her. “See? An auntie like that would suit you.”
“I asked around. After clearing an instance, you get one free chance to change your destination. If you wait until you arrive, it costs money.”
Qi Jiajia followed Cheng Miao’s gaze. The woman’s eyes brightened as though she had found a long-lost daughter, and tears immediately gathered.
Qi Jiajia looked at her calmly and shook her head. “I don’t suit her. Staying together would only make us more vulnerable.”
Oh? Had the little yandere brat suddenly found enlightenment?
Cheng Miao did not know what expression Qi Jiajia made, but the woman’s motherly face instantly turned ghostly pale, and she whipped around.
Qi Jiajia spread her lips in a grin. “See? I told you she wouldn’t work. She’s a coward.”
So much for enlightenment.
Cheng Miao’s mouth twitched. “My mistake. With that temper, who but your parents could tolerate you?”
Qi Jiajia giggled and lay down, showing no sadness at the mention of family. Instead, she hummed an unknown tune.
It repeated the same few notes, monotonous and eerie.
Ignoring Qi Jiajia’s latest episode, Cheng Miao closed her curtain and counted sheep.
Rather than falling asleep, she began salivating over the roast lamb in her imagination.
She sat up and took out the Fishbone Dagger in the darkness. It was the reward from her previous instance, though its construction was remarkably crude.
The glossy fishbone was seven or eight inches long, with an extremely sharp point. At the base, Mama Bear’s hemp thread had been wrapped carelessly into a handle.
Despite being called a dagger, its narrow shape lacked a true blade. It resembled a simplified Emei piercer instead.
Cheng Miao tested it. It fit her hand well and was unlikely to injure her. She struck the bedside cabinet and discovered that, though sharp, it could not cut. Its point merely punched a small hole.
Cheng Miao contemplated the row of holes in her cabinet.
“Only a few minutes until the instance,” Qi Jiajia said outside the curtain. For all her willfulness, she respected certain boundaries, including privacy.
Cheng Miao opened the curtain and met her gaze. “Don’t trust anyone easily inside.”
Considering Qi Jiajia was more likely to hurt others, she added, “Try to survive.”
The Game was fair. Every instance matched a player’s level and did not exceed their ability.
If Qi Jiajia wanted to return alive, she had to depend on herself. That applied to this Game and every future one, to Qi Jiajia and Cheng Miao alike.
They were dancers crossing tightropes between cliffs, without a single chance to fail.
Qi Jiajia looked up. The shifting light made her catlike eyes exceptionally beautiful. She murmured something too softly to hear, and Cheng Miao’s vision went black.
When she opened her eyes, the familiar Dormitory was gone. Before her towered an ordinary-looking building that seemed to pierce the clouds. Lush banyan trees grew on both sides, their leaves stirring in a pleasant breeze. Outside an instance, it would have been a comfortable place.
Cheng Miao looked around. There were eight players, but Qi Jiajia was not among them. She followed the others toward the building.
“A library?” A large, bearded man at the front muttered in confusion. Cheng Miao followed his gaze. A perfectly square plaque hung above the center: Knowledge Library.