Chapter 10: Perplexity

Lao Jin hurriedly stopped her. “It’s pouring out there. You’re going out in that?”

“None of your business.”

Shiyue shook him off. She had just stepped into the rain when another beggar came over to persuade her. Holding his swollen face, his voice muffled, he said, “Just wait until the rain stops! We’re not hurting you. Going out in a downpour—are you trying to die?”

Lao Jin patted his chest as well. “Little sis, if you’ve got something urgent, just tell us. Maybe we can help.”

“…”

Shiyue glared impatiently at the beggars, then turned and sat at the doorway, speaking in a low voice:
“Even if I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

She briefly described missing her stop after school, witnessing the fight, getting thrown into the lake, and nearly being killed by the rocks—though she left out the bizarre part at the bottom of the lake.

There was only a single hanging bulb in the warehouse, but in the dim lighting, she could still see each of their faces as clearly as if it were daytime—just like earlier, when she experienced that impossible bullet-time moment. Naturally, she didn’t mention any of that.

“Hey, girl, what’s that on your hand? I remember you weren’t wearing that just now, right?” one beggar suddenly pointed at her hands.

“What?”

Shiyue looked down—and realized she was wearing gloves on both hands.

Though the light was dim, she could clearly see that the gloves covered half her forearms. They were tough, clinging tightly to her skin, like steel-mesh gloves but even denser. On the back of each hand was a large green pattern shaped like an inflated pufferfish.

When did I put these on?

Shiyue was confused—but at that exact moment, as if responding to her thoughts, the gloves simply disappeared.

…?

Suspicious as she was, she brushed it off before the beggars, blaming it on the dim lighting and saying they must have seen wrong.

“Ai, that Mochang Lake School… it’s really gone downhill these years. The students there get less and less human by the day.”

Lao Jin casually picked up two cans, handing one to Shiyue. “Hm?”

“No.”

“Have a drink.”

“No.”

“Click… You—sigh, fine, don’t drink then.”

He sighed and emptied the can in a few gulps, crushed it under his foot, and tossed it into a large burlap sack. A cold wind blew through the door gap; he shivered, wrapped his blanket tighter, sighed “winter’s coming,” and continued:

“Actually, that Mochang Lake Middle School wasn’t bad before. People here are rich, right? So the school was built beautifully—like a garden. Heard the teachers were amazing too. It should’ve been the best school in Huangzhou.”

“But then more and more nouveau riche showed up. Some parents stuffed money into the school just to cram their so-called princes and princesses inside…”

It turned out that Mochang Lake Middle School, being a school built for wealthy families, originally had excellent teaching quality. In its early years, it had even been No.1 in Huangzhou’s entrance exam rates. But once it grew famous, many ordinary families and nouveau riche flocked to get their children in by any means.

Some ordinary families went through great trouble for their kids. Those kids might not have special talents, and few would return to benefit the school later, but at least they could study—they didn’t harm the school’s performance.

The problem was the ones shoved in with money or connections. They had no grades, no discipline, dragged down averages, and caused trouble constantly—some even dared to hit teachers. Worse, their parents were unreasonable too—either flaunting wealth or bragging about connections in some department, or simply rolling around in the principal’s office making a scene. Since they were the school’s cash cows, the school couldn’t do anything. Problems were covered up again and again, and the school’s reputation slowly rotted.

“Ai, but really, the teachers there are still good. I heard lots of kids get into top universities every year. Families with some money still send their children there. Their honors classes are supposed to be real strong.”

“Eh? But why are you asking about all this?”

“…”

Shiyue fell silent, staring at the ground. The beggars chatted stiffly for a while, but seeing she didn’t respond, they exchanged looks. The relatively spacious warehouse filled with awkward quiet.

The dead air lasted until the rain outside began to ease. The cold damp mist leaking in through the door finally faded, and her clothes slowly dried. Shiyue glanced outside, then quickly put on the mask and hat, wrapped herself in the jacket the beggars gave her, opened the umbrella, and prepared to leave. When she stepped out, the beggars immediately scrambled to their feet, trying to stop her again.

“Just wait for the rain to stop first.”

“Rest a bit longer.”

Shiyue waved impatiently, telling them to mind their own business, even calling them human traffickers again. The beggar called Old Liang couldn’t take it anymore:

“You’re the human trafficker! Lao Jin was kind enough to shelter you, and you don’t appreciate it! Didn’t even ask what’s what and started beating us. Bullying a bunch of weak bums—why don’t you try fighting a beggar in the main district? Over there, you beat one of them and you’ll be the one who has to hide whenever they pass!”

“Aiya, Lao Liang, don’t scare her…” one beggar said. “Girl, we’re really not traffickers. We just pick stuff. Who would run trafficking in a rich district? Those gangsters stay in… in that… urban village area over there. We’re just scavengers.”

He handed her a drink. “If you want to go, then go. You almost got killed by those students just now, and now you’re rushing out—going to beat them, right? Sigh, beat them then. If you lose, come back and find us. We’re always here, you won’t lose us.”

“…Thanks.”

Following the route the beggars told her, Shiyue found the school before dawn. Just as they said, it looked grand and imposing—the school gate alone resembled the entrance to a government hall. It sat beside a lake, with a wide road stretching straight inward along the shore. The teaching buildings were built in a traditional style—the vermilion walls glowed even more brilliantly under the rain, droplets bouncing off the eaves. Despite the downpour, not a drop reached the inner corridors; the wind whistled through, and the fine mist clung to the deep-red structures.

Across from the school was an overpass. Shiyue folded her umbrella and sat on the flowerbed beneath it. The wet soil and weeds mixed with the smell of rain and dust. The faint mist around her felt like it could submerge a person into the deep sea. Shiyue shivered. She clenched her fists slightly, and the two gauntlets appeared with her thought—then vanished in an instant. They truly followed her will perfectly.

She tested their strength. One punch cracked a flowerpot, yet her fingers were unharmed. And the gauntlets felt like part of her skin—unzippable, irremovable.

Too strange.

“What has happened to my body…?”

Confusion filled her. But overwhelming drowsiness crept in; she couldn’t fight it anymore. Eventually she closed her eyes and dozed lightly.

It wasn’t until dawn that a beam of morning light woke her. When she opened her eyes, there were already students gathering at the gate.

Her groggy mind sharpened immediately. She widened her eyes, scanning each face carefully—and sure enough, the three who had thrown her into the water appeared one after another at the entrance.