Chapter 3

Chapter 3

We had been seatmates for half a year without exchanging a single word.

The teacher thought Ye Yuansheng was too popular with the girls and that sitting next to me would be a ‘safe bet.’ Back then, Ye Yuansheng used stacks of books to fortify the boundary between our desks, warning me in a harsh, nasty tone never to cross the line.

Now, his ears were flushed red as he asked me for help with a problem-solving strategy.

Fang Ya watched us as if facing a mortal enemy. A secret sense of satisfaction welled up in my heart, so I changed my mind and told Ye Yuansheng I would be more than happy to help.

I leaned in close. As I explained the problem, our arms inevitably pressed together, skin against skin.

He didn’t move away, and neither did I.

Later, he invited me to the library. When it started raining, he took the opportunity of sharing an umbrella to wrap his arm around my shoulder.

I saw Fang Ya, looking absolutely devastated.

When we returned to the dorm, she tried to pull her old tricks again, but this time I shoved her aside.

Seeing her face, now bloated and hideous, I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, filled with pure malice. “Why shouldn’t he like me? If he doesn’t like me, is he supposed to like you? Have you even looked in a mirror lately?”

As I grew more beautiful, her face had broken out in pustules, and her body began to emit a thick, fishy stench.

Fang Ya covered her face and wailed in despair.

“It’s just that the effects of the fingernails are starting to fade.”

I sighed with regret. Fang Ya and I had both signed up for a dance competition. To secure my spot, I practiced desperately. But after sweating profusely, I noticed my belly was bloating and spots were appearing on my face. More troubling still, I realized I was looking more and more like Fang Ya.

Classmates and teachers occasionally mistook us for one another. Even Ye Yuansheng muttered, “How did I never notice before? You look quite a bit like the old Fang Ya. She had a mole at the corner of her eye, and now you have one too. You didn’t have that before, did you?”

I gripped my pen tight, my expression dark and silent. My mother pleaded with me earnestly, “Stop now. It’s not too late to stop.”

But having tasted the dividends of beauty, how could I easily let go?

I stared into the mirror, lost in thought.

“Three inches of blood in the skin, seven parts of essence in the bone. A person’s ten fingers correspond to the twelve primary meridians. The pinky finger may seem insignificant, but it condenses and hides the Earth Soul that governs one’s facial features. If a ritual using fingernails can have such an effect, what if… it were the entire finger?”

I decided to settle this once and for all.