chapter 3

“It’s okay. In this family, I want to help out too.”

With new family members, Qiu Rongrong treasured what she had.

How could she make things difficult for them?

Zhou Jingxing’s room was spotless. There were only a few books on the desk, stacked neatly together, and several pencils sharpened to needle points sat in the pencil holder.

So sharp-sharp enough to poke an eye out with one jab.

The bedsheets were a light gray, smooth without a wrinkle. The air carried a faint, clean soap scent. Qiu Rongrong sniffed; it was the same fresh smell that clung to him.

“You can draw?” Qiu Rongrong spotted a sketch on the desktop.

In the picture was a gentle woman knitting a scarf.

It looked lifelike.

Without thinking, Qiu Rongrong reached out, wanting to touch the person in the drawing.

Zhou Jingxing suddenly caught her hand.

His grip was strong-almost rough.

“Big Brother.” Qiu Rongrong winced in pain.

“Don’t get your fingers dirty.” Zhou Jingxing returned to that gentle look as if nothing had happened. He released her hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m good at portrait sketches. If you’re willing to be my model, I can draw one for you too.”

They were too close-too intimate.

The lingering warmth of his palm still rested on the back of her hand.

Qiu Rongrong’s cheeks flushed. “No need to trouble yourself, Big Brother.”

“Fair enough. Sketching is a bit dull anyway-you’d suit watercolor better.” He let her go.

Qiu Rongrong hurriedly waved her hands in explanation. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not saying I dislike sketches.”

“I know.” Zhou Jingxing flipped the sketch facedown on the desk. “What are you scared of? Even if you did dislike it, it’s fine. Big Brother wouldn’t punish you.”

The word punish curled on his tongue, as if it carried another meaning.

He hadn’t turned on the lights. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, and the glow from the screen spilled across the wall like a still pool of water.

The movie had just started. It was an artsy film, the characters on-screen murmuring softly to each other. Qiu Rongrong grew drowsy as she watched.

She hugged her knees. Her body leaned farther and farther to the side, her head tipping bit by bit, almost falling onto Zhou Jingxing’s shoulder.

Zhou Jingxing sat upright, perfectly composed.

He was waiting.

But as Qiu Rongrong swayed, she woke up a little again.

She patted her cheeks and tried to keep watching.

Be polite. She had to be polite.

Big Brother had invited her to watch a movie. No matter how boring it was, she couldn’t fall asleep and ruin his mood.

Zhou Jingxing held the remote. He tilted his head slightly toward her. “Want to switch to a horror movie?”

“No-no need.” Qiu Rongrong’s face changed instantly. The sleepiness in her head scattered at once. “I don’t watch horror movies. This is fine.”

Ever since what happened, Qiu Rongrong no longer dared to watch horror films.

What she’d lived through was a horror film.

“Sorry.” Zhou Jingxing looked away, his voice dropping, a hint of regret in it. “I saw you were about to fall asleep, so I thought about changing it. I forgot you’ve been through something bad.”

“It’s okay. My therapist told me to avoid bloody, violent scenes. It helps with my recovery.” Qiu Rongrong tried to smile brightly, but her voice still sounded strained.

A new city, a new life. The killer was already dead. She was still young-she should step out from the shadows of the past and get her life back on track.

“That’s good.” The shifting light from the screen flickered across his face.

“Hm?”

“That you can look forward. That’s good.” He smiled again, and the way he looked at her was like he was watching a new sprout break through snow.

Their eyes met. There was light in his gaze, and Qiu Rongrong’s heartbeat skipped-like a small stone dropping into the center of a lake, stirring up tiny ripples.

“I should go back to my room.”

If she stayed any longer, who knew what might happen.

Qiu Rongrong forced down the panic in her chest and lowered her head to check her watch.

It was already ten at night. She still had school tomorrow.

“Get some rest. The hallway lights are finicky-don’t bump into anything.” Zhou Jingxing didn’t try to keep her. He sat on the floor as if he hadn’t noticed anything off about her, continuing to watch the projection on the wall.

He planned to finish the movie.

Qiu Rongrong’s steps as she left were hesitant, tangled with indecision.
The clean-cut boy made a good impression on her.

But he was her foster parents’ son. She cherished this new life and didn’t want to cross any lines and shatter the calm.

Qiu Rongrong went back to her room.

The room Uncle Zhou had prepared for her was pink.

He thought a warm, cute little-girl room could help her forget the past and heal her heart.

But pink always made Qiu Rongrong think of writhing internal organs.

Intestines, stomach-everything was that color.

Lying in a pink room felt like being swallowed into a killer’s belly.

After Qiu Rongrong left, Zhou Jingxing switched to a different video and cast it to the screen.

The light in the video dimmed.

A white room. Only a single sallow lamp, swaying as it flickered.

A girl’s hands were tied behind her back. Slowly, she bent forward, sank to her knees, and used her mouth to eat a mushy paste set in a dog bowl.

Her lips were cracked. Her eyes stared hollowly at the camera, like a bird with its wings broken.

Zhou Jingxing adjusted the playback speed with the remote, skipping the boring parts as he searched for the moments when the protagonist struggled.

Then he laughed.

The next day, Qiu Rongrong got up in the morning, made thin pancakes, heated milk, and after she finished her own breakfast, she set out two more portions on trays and placed them at the doors of her two older brothers’ rooms.

She knocked, then stuck a note on each tray instead of carrying them inside.

After that, Qiu Rongrong shouldered her backpack and headed to the university.

In the morning light, the school gates stood open, students drifting in in twos and threes.

How nice. She could finally come back and attend classes normally again.

In a way, Qiu Rongrong was far too famous.

The humiliation she’d suffered had branded her with a mark that would never fade.

When Qiu Rongrong appeared in the classroom, the noisy chatter died away.

Her classmates stared at her with strange looks.

Qiu Rongrong walked to her seat, ignoring their gazes. She set her backpack on the desk and lowered her head to organize her textbooks.

Her deskmate was a short-haired girl with a baby face. During class, she hid behind a propped-up textbook, blinking rapidly as she stole glances at Qiu Rongrong.

Same during breaks.

Noticing she was sneaking looks, Qiu Rongrong pulled out some gummy candy from her pocket and asked, “Do you want strawberry or tangerine?”

The girl froze, clearly not expecting her to speak first. A moment later, she cautiously pointed at herself. “For me?”

“Mm.” Qiu Rongrong wanted to make new friends.

New family. New friends. A new life.

“Then I’ll take tangerine.” She took the candy and popped it into her mouth. It was a little sticky on her teeth. As she chewed, her voice turned soft and muffled. “My name is Jiang Yuwei. I’m really happy to be your deskmate.”

Qiu Rongrong introduced herself as well.

Jiang Yuwei’s eyes shone brightly, like stars fallen into water. “I know you. You’re really famous. You managed to escape and call the police even in that kind of situation-you’re amazing.”

A boy in the front row wearing a basketball jersey turned around and frowned at Jiang Yuwei. “Weiwei, watch your mouth. Don’t bring up someone else’s painful memories.”

Jiang Yuwei blinked, then stuck out her tongue. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Her new deskmate’s warmth was contagious. Qiu Rongrong lifted her head. “The killer’s already been executed. I don’t care anymore.”

“Is that so?” A boy in the back suddenly spoke up. He had both feet propped on the desk, his voice deliberately lowered, excitement seeping through. “If you don’t care, why don’t you tell everyone? That year you were held captive-what exactly happened to you?”

Someone else let out a short laugh and deliberately raised his voice. “I saw in the news you were tied up and made into a dog for a whole year.”

“Yeah. Did you get violated while crawling on the floor like a dog?”

“And the murderer’s son goes to this school too. What do you think-will he come find you and get revenge for his dad?”

They burst into laughter.

Kindness and malice wove together into a net, tightening around her.