Chapter 171 Borrowing Item 1: The Golden Legend

You pulled out three bottles of gold nail polish with different logos, but you couldn't tell the difference between them with the naked eye when you looked at the contents.

"...Nail polish?"

Everyone was stunned, probably thinking you had gone mad.

"Now? What are you going to do, get your nails done?" Went's voice was a mixture of absurdity and despair.

“No, it’s gold!” Meiling exclaimed excitedly in a breathy voice.

Before you could explain, you unscrewed the cap and ran a small brush across her skin. You first painted a shimmering gold line across the back of your own hand, then grabbed the short-haired girl's arm and brushed the color heavily onto her wrist, making it thick and shiny.

In that instant, the black mist that had been trying to continue spiraling up her arm suddenly contracted, as if it had been burned, and hissed.

It actually worked! You breathed a sigh of relief.

Huimin's eyes widened, while Meiling covered her mouth and burst into laughter, her laughter trembling.

Although Wente and the others didn't understand, they still took the nail polish from your hand and started applying it to their arms and backs.

Several thin golden marks, like amulets, drew in the black mist time and again, only to retreat in frustration upon contact with the luster.

After several rounds, the black mist finally slowly seeped back into the yellowed file. The pages trembled a few times, flipped to the last page, snapped shut, and fell silent.

“…This works?” Minte stared blankly at the gold on the back of his hand, and it took him a long time to squeeze out a sentence.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, your breathing still unsteady: "Fine," you replied coldly, "because it's gold."

Gold is the color of Buddha statues, the color of temples, and the color of deities. It is also the power within this instance that can suppress all evil spirits.

Meiling helped you translate, and you took the opportunity to pass on this rule to them as well.

The six of them restored the entire place without a second's delay, then saluted with their hands clasped together, and walked out of the archives much more swaggeringly than when they arrived.

The caretaker was awake, but no matter how much she looked at you through her reading glasses, she couldn't remember when you had sneaked in or what you had been doing. After you all greeted her with "Hello, teacher! Thank you for your hard work!", she smiled and went back to reading her book.

Finally leaving the library and standing in the sunlight again, Meiling couldn't help but ask, "But why do you carry this with you? When did you prepare it?"

After thinking for a moment, you answered truthfully: "It was during break time. I was planning to go to the art room."

Before doing anything, you'll mentally rehearse how to proceed. The malice lurking in the rules behind this school can strike unexpectedly at any moment. You can't possibly walk into such an archive room unprepared.

The golden light in the examination room inspired you—"Gold is a sacred color."

Gold itself is the gilded surface plated on Buddha statues, and it is also the gold chain worn around the neck of students, carrying the wish of their families to avoid calamities... You become more and more certain that if danger really occurs, gold will be a very effective talisman for you.

So, during break, without having time to talk to anyone, you head straight to the art room. You want to find paint, so at least borrow a tube of gold acrylic paint and put it in your bag; it might come in handy at a crucial moment.

Unfortunately, when you arrived at the classroom door, the iron gate was locked tightly, and there were no teachers or classmates. You tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge.

It's not impossible to break in, but it's not worth making yourself look like a thief. Even leaving a note saying you borrowed it would only cause you more trouble.

You are frowning in thought when you suddenly spot "them" in the crowd.

—Those three sweepers.

Among the bustling students, these three people are always the first to be spotted.

The golden hair clips shimmered in the sunlight, the sequined nail polish on her fingertips was dazzling, and her earrings were studded with rhinestones that seemed about to drip.

No matter how much an ordinary student loves to dress up, very few people treat "maintaining beauty" as a life lesson like Sao Shuang. These people who want to be women care more about their appearance than any "woman" you've ever met, try their best to use the most coquettish voices, and exaggerate the gestures that almost no girl would make with their fingers adorned with long manicured nails.

A thought suddenly struck you.

Since we can't get into the art classroom, why not just borrow one from the cleaning staff?

You take a deep breath and walk towards the three women who are comparing lipstick shades. As you approach, they immediately fall silent, their three pairs of eyes sweeping over you simultaneously, carrying a hint of condescending mockery.

"Excuse me, could I borrow something?" you said, using the fewest possible words in Thai, accompanied by gestures. The other person was stunned at first, then burst into laughter.

"You? You want our stuff?" The robbers were chattering away, but you couldn't understand them, so you had to take out your phone to translate.

"I want something golden. Golden, shiny, preferably paint or something that can be applied."

The three looked at each other, then laughed even harder. The one with the big wavy hair deliberately shook her finger, waving her gleaming gold nails in front of you: "This?"

You nodded, your expression serious.

The laughter stopped for a few seconds.

Only then did the women realize that you weren't there to make fun of them.

They exchanged glances, and finally pulled three small bottles of nail polish from their bags. Gold, with delicate pearlescent shimmer, they sparkled in the sunlight.

“It’s real gold dust inside~ But you can take it, no need to return it, we have plenty,” the raiders said, their voices drawn out.

You accept it solemnly and thank it softly.

Thankfully, it really worked.

Upon hearing this, Huimin exclaimed "Ah!" and almost fell over: "You actually went... to find them?"

Meiling frowned as well: "How dare you? Especially just a few days ago... You know their temper."

You shrug: "It's precisely because they're so high-profile that I immediately realized they must have something like this. It's either cosmetics or jewelry; they probably have a lot of these colorful things."

At this point, a complex feeling arises in your heart that you can't quite describe.

You may have participated in heated online discussions about these topics as a way to pass the time after get off work, but when you actually have real interactions with these people—even if the double-checking here is still "unreal" to you—the perception is completely different.

Looking at the gold marks on the back of your hand, you softly added, "But don't you find it strange? What they're pursuing—is it 'womanhood,' or 'sexualized womanhood'?"

No one could explain it.

“They…are more like ‘girls’ than us. But sometimes I don’t understand, is that really ‘being yourself’? Or is it just imitating a symbol that everyone expects?” Meiling frowned, picking at the formaldehyde-laden nail polish on her arm.

Huimin gently shook her head: "I dare not think about it. I just feel that they have a harder time than us. When we don't wear makeup, no one says anything. When they don't wear makeup, they are laughed at and criticized more harshly, said to be fake, just trying to attract attention, but real girls don't do that."

Meiling couldn't help but interject, "But I don't think it's like that... They clearly... I don't know either. It's a bit too exaggerated! Too refined, too extreme. Those high heels, long nails... are they really 'women'? I don't look like that, and I haven't seen many women look like that."

You added in a low voice, "That's an extreme illusion, society's expectations of 'women'—gentle, sexy, and the object of their gaze. That's the illusion they pursue. But ironically, once they actually become that illusion, it also starkly reveals to us that this is what women are expected of."

The conversation turned somewhat somber at this point.

But then you think: even so, isn't this a form of resistance? These people, through extreme imitation, become a kind of "them" that only exists in extreme forms, reflecting a mirror harshly to the whole society—"What you call women are just like me."

Beauty here is not a matter of personal choice, but simply a social rule.

Thinking about this, a chill ran through you.

You seem to understand why this gold nail polish from the double-sided brush works so well—it has two layers of patterns on it.

Gold itself is one layer; "beautiful things should not be exposed" is another.

—This kind of superficial beauty, defined by the outside world, once exposed, will only reveal the naked, cold ugliness and malicious reality.

**

Afternoon classes proceeded as usual.

The sunlight outside the window was still scorching. Everyone was a little listless after lunch. The only sounds in the classroom were the soft rustling of pens and paper, occasionally accompanied by the teacher tapping the blackboard.

You seem to be studying hard, but you're actually slacking off. Mei-ling and Hui-min are the same.

How exactly should we understand the phrase "to record is to exist, to erase is to perish"? And what substantial impact will it have on you? Fortunately, at least the afternoon's classes were uneventful, and nothing strange happened.

The original plan was to start the nighttime investigation of the school tonight—after all, figuring out the anomalies of the night was the key to solving the mystery.

However, after that terrifying ordeal in the archives at noon, everyone was exhausted.

Mental fatigue is more persistent and powerful than the tide, not to mention heavy eyelids and scattered thoughts.

Finally, everyone unanimously decided to postpone the operation until next week. You all tacitly agreed: more preparation is always better than none.

After school, you returned home with your schoolbag on your back. This time, there was a pair of men's shoes on the shoe rack by the door.

The man was also at home.

For the past few days, he'd been coming home very late every time, so you assumed the house was well soundproofed. Turns out, the walls were so thin they barely blocked any sound.

You tiptoed into the house after changing your shoes, and saw your mother tidying up the dishes in the kitchen, her expression as usual. But the door to the master bedroom was tightly closed, and coming from inside was the man's flowery voice with an accent, his state extremely excited, as if he were faking it.

He was live-streaming.

"Brothers...don't forget to like and save today's content to claim your coupon..."

The sound, echoing from the microphone, penetrated clearly. A chill ran down your spine.

Isn't he selling metaphysical items? Can this kind of thing be live-streamed on a legitimate website in China?

You sat down silently at the table, shoveling rice into your bowl without saying a word. Your mother didn't mention anything, and you didn't ask anything either, because you were busy eavesdropping.

After dinner, you quickly finished your weekend homework, then tiptoed to the door and leaned against it to listen to what he was saying.

Most of the time it's just nonsense, or the kind of sales pitches used by shills to trick real viewers into making impulsive purchases. But occasionally, though, there will be technical terms mixed in—product names, trendy online slogans, and unfamiliar jargon—that will pop into your head one by one.

Your phone screen lights up, and you carefully recall the keywords you just captured, entering them one by one into the search box. Countless irrelevant results scroll through the page, but you patiently check them one by one.

Finally, after a string of somewhat vulgar titles, you clicked on a link. A familiar figure popped up on the screen: that face, that tone, that deliberate enthusiasm—all exactly the same as the one coming from outside the door.

This is the man's live stream room.

It really is a legitimate online platform.

If ordinary people just sell amulets and other props as art pieces or souvenirs, that's fine; it's a small business. But if you want to make big money in this line of work, you can't be so honest.

Your family's economic situation is quite average, but don't you think this reflects that your "father" is honest?

You'd better see what this guy is really up to.

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Author's Note: ^^