Chapter 1
I've been here for a month now.
To be honest, I still haven't gotten used to this feeling: there's only about a meter and a half between the two buildings, and that's a road. The walls not only seem to stretch endlessly, but their height also resembles a thin bamboo pole. The plaster has long since peeled off, more so than the marks left by rainwater seepage. Visitors often ask if it's just rained, because the ground isn't wet at all. And under the dim streetlights, shadows always lurk.
This is a slum-like place, inhabited by all sorts of people, each with their own unique traits that defy societal norms. This might sound like boasting, but it seems my face is the only one that truly violates these norms. It should be utterly ordinary; at least, I've never been captivated by it. Yet, it seems to possess a certain magic, a magic that bewitches others upon seeing it, causing them to follow me like ghosts, their drunken gait leading them to place their hands on my shoulders.
I've gotten used to it. The light, airy force rests on me, feeling no different from a gentle breeze. I don't know how someone can be so light, so light I can barely feel it, like a ghost. It even brings a faint, cold, sticky sensation, but none of that matters.
So what if I'm a ghost? I can't escape; this is where I live. I go to school during the day, facing the people and things on campus, and come back from the academy at night with my books in my arms, the moonlight shining on me.
My landlady was very kind; she would smile at me. I had never received such treatment before, so I was often flattered. I didn't know why she was here, but the dried bloodstains on the wall always made me hesitate to ask: perhaps she was just a woman who killed her abusive husband, or something else, perhaps she had reduced the person who bullied her to ashes. She was a very kind person, and I couldn't imagine what she would do to disregard her own future.
The books in my arms were heavy; I'd left my textbooks in the classroom, so I hadn't brought my bag this morning. I hadn't expected the teacher to assign homework related to this. I was also carrying dinner, for my kids, a pair of poor twins. When I look at them, I hallucinate two cats with their claws outstretched towards my neck, but that's just a hallucination.
That's true. Since arriving here, I've often had all sorts of hallucinations. During the Twilight Hour, the dust particles seem to leap into the sky like swimming jellyfish, just like the bubbles children blow. Fortunately, I have fragments of this memory, and people around me can corroborate it: the dust can indeed be captured.
Sometimes I see grayish-black things crowding around me, with mouths and sharp teeth that rival the sharks in the books. But I've come to another world, so a few strange creatures shouldn't be a problem, right? Besides, maybe it's because everyone I know is a native, but they're always exposed before they even get close.
The alleyway made a few symbolic turns; the original plan was to create a scattered, star-like pattern of residential buildings. Things didn't go as planned, but it certainly hindered my progress. A few days ago, I memorized the map my landlady gave me; the place with the peach tree in front of the door is my house.
The peach tree is small, so small it only reaches my calves. It doesn't flower or bear fruit. This is for the best; it can't grow too tall and obstruct passersby. Its leaves are greenest at night, but appear dull and hazy during the day. The twins don't like it, though they occasionally tend to it like they're being drawn to catnip. I bought the nutrient solution from the flower and bird market; I never imagined I'd have money.
The area in front of my house looks a bit deserted. I'd like to add some decorations, but I can't think of any meaningful blessings. Anyway, it's nice to be home.
I pushed open the door, and the twins were dozing on the sofa. They had been waiting for me, which softened my heart. I quietly placed dinner on the small table, when the older one suddenly stopped me: "You're back?"
I asked softly, "Aren't you asleep?"
They didn't tell me their names; apparently, they don't have any, so they've been waiting for me to come up with one. Although I'm not particularly busy, I sometimes choose not to do anything due to laziness, so their names are still undecided.
"Is your little brother asleep?" I asked. "If he's hungry, there's dinner on the table. Let him rest well."
My brother followed me silently into the restroom. I asked him, "Why are you following me?"
He has mint green eyes, and when he looks at people, his pupils seem vertical. My younger brother has slate blue eyes, which sometimes make me feel as if I'm looking at a deep pool.
"Why are you so late?" the older brother complained. "It's not safe outside, especially at night. You need to come back earlier."
I wiped my hands clean and patted his head: "Be good. Besides, I found you guys at night before, didn't I? You've been taking good care of me. It won't be this late next time. Today we had a group project discussion, and a senior even pulled me along for a while."
The older brother wrinkled his nose, his tone displeased: "I told you you smelled awful! Wash it off, it stinks!"
My senior didn't have any strange smells; instead, he gave me a sense of comfort, like being back home. He had a faint scent of jasmine and the well-known fragrance of freesia, so he must have been wearing perfume. Sometimes I would deliberately spend time with him, trying to recall the homeland that I could no longer find in my memories.
I stopped what I was doing, tilted my head, and asked him, "What did you do today?"
I don't know what he saw, but his fair face flushed instantly. The mint green light flickered, then quickly returned to normal, a faint glint in the dim light flashing by. This is a restroom; it's common for things like mirrors to gleam.
He said, "I cleaned the house and made him lunch. Taking care of him is so tiring. Can you please send him away?"
“That’s your brother,” I scolded him. “Don’t say things like that in front of him.”
Taking care of children is indeed very troublesome, and I can't manage both school and home at the same time. My younger brother has a rather unruly temperament, so it's normal for my older brother to be impatient. It seems I need to think about how to handle this. Should I hire a nanny? But I don't have enough money yet.
We'll talk about it later.
I said, "Go to sleep quickly, I won't go see my brother, I'm a little tired today."
"Okay," he agreed readily. "You shouldn't have looked at him; he always bothers you. I'm really tired today, getting back so late. Sweet dreams."
The two brothers are twins, born one after the other, but the older brother is much better off than the younger one. But I shouldn't scold the younger brother; he looks too fragile, and perhaps he'll get better with more care.
My brother is really obedient.
I think I laughed a little, because I felt my facial muscles twitching. I ruffled his hair again and kissed his cheek.
My lips felt burning, like they were being scalded. I reached up and touched them; they were perfectly normal.
My brother seemed afraid to look me in the eye; he's still a child who's afraid to face the kindness of adults.
"Goodnight to you too," I said. "Please pass on my message: Goodnight to my brother too."
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