The key was inserted into the keyhole in the center of the cake plate, and the porcelain plate suddenly began to spin, faster and faster until it became a blurred golden edge.
Hua Jinyue took a half step back and heard the sound of gears turning. A crack appeared at the bottom of the plate, and a velvet gift box popped out. The bow was tied with her favorite Tiffany blue ribbon.
The moment she opened the gift box, she covered her mouth and exclaimed.
Inside was a tattered-looking rabbit doll with a missing ear and a dark red patch sewn on it. Around its neck hung a bronze plate with "Mad Hatter's Rabbit" engraved on it.
This is a limited edition doll she saw in an antique shop last week. It was priced at one million and was bought by a mysterious buyer.
"Brother..." Hua Jinyue looked up and saw Ye Qingliu leaning against the door frame with two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his delicate collarbone.
The boy's eyes were gentle, yet a little proud, like a cat waiting to be praised.
"Do you like it?" He walked closer, brushing the cream off her eyelashes with his fingertips. "I traveled to three countries to find it."
Hua Jinyue suddenly threw herself into his arms, the doll's woolen ears brushing against his chin. Ye Qingliu froze for a moment, then reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, his palms touching the soft flesh beneath her nightgown, like touching the first cherry blossom in spring.
"I love you the most!" she muttered into his chest, her voice nasal. "I love you even more than unicorn cake!"
Ye Qingliu chuckled, resting his chin on the top of her head: "I know, little lunatic." He paused, and lowered his voice, "As long as you are happy."
At two in the morning, Hua Jinyue woke up from her dream. As usual, she reached out to touch the doll beside her pillow, but she only felt the cold silk sheets.
The moment the bedside lamp came on, she saw the doll sitting upright on the dressing table, its black pearl-like eyes staring at her, and a strange arc appeared at the corner of its mouth.
"Is this an illusion?" she muttered to herself, wrapping herself in a silk quilt and getting out of bed. Moonlight streamed in through the French windows, casting diamond-shaped shadows on the floor.
Hua Jinyue walked towards the dressing table on the cashmere carpet. Just as her fingertips touched the doll, she suddenly heard intermittent sobbing coming from the corridor.
Her heart skipped a beat. Besides her and her brother, the only people in this villa, which covered several thousand square meters, were the maid who came twice a week and the driver, Old Yang. And it was clearly late at night.
Hua Jinyue grabbed the gilded flashlight on the bedside table. The parchment lampshade felt hot in her palm, illuminating the carved door frame.
The crying in the corridor came and went, like feathers blown by the wind. Hua Jinyue thought of the horror movie she had seen last week, in which the heroine also heard a ghost crying on her birthday.
She swallowed, her high heels echoing hollowly on the marble floor. As she passed her grandfather's oil portrait, the eyes of the man in the painting seemed to follow her, causing her to quicken her pace.
The restroom door was ajar, a faint light filtering through the crack. Hua Jinyue reached out and pushed it open. The gilded faucet was dripping, its "tick-tick" sound particularly clear in the silence.
"Who's there?" she asked bravely, her voice trembling.
The only sound she got in response was the wind. The shadows of the sycamore trees outside the window swayed on the glass, like countless withered hands scratching at it.
Hua Jinyue suddenly remembered what her brother said, that there was a century-old sycamore tree planted in the courtyard of this villa, which would make a rustling sound on every rainy night, as if someone was whispering.
While washing her hands after using the restroom, she suddenly noticed a water mark on the edge of the mirror, as if someone had run a fingertip across it. Hua Jinyue leaned in to investigate and heard a "click" behind her—the sound of the doll's joints moving.
She turned around suddenly and saw that the doll had appeared at the door at some point, staring at her with its head tilted, and the curve of its mouth seemed to deepen.
"Ah!" She screamed and staggered back, her lower back resting on the sink.
The doll didn't move, just stood there quietly, its black pearl eyes gleaming faintly in the flashlight. Hua Jinyue took a deep breath, telling herself that this was just a gift from her brother, and there wouldn't be anything strange about it.
When she returned to her room, she carefully checked under the bed and in the wardrobe, making sure nothing was amiss before crawling under the covers. But every time she closed her eyes, she would see the doll's face emerge in the darkness, its mouth grinning and revealing its fangs.
After tossing and turning for half an hour, she finally threw off the quilt and rushed to her brother's room holding the pillow.
Hua Jinyue stopped in front of the door, hearing the sound of his own heartbeat mixed with the ringing of a distant clock, and suddenly remembered the time when he was twelve years old.
It was the first time she slept alone in the attic, and it was also late at night, with her heart beating like a drum. Finally, her brother carried her to the master bedroom and she slept in his arms until dawn.
The combination lock on the doorknob glowed a faint blue light. Hua Jinyue entered her birthday, and the lock clicked softly, the sound remarkably clear in the silence.
She pushed open the door, and the mixed scent of cedar and sandalwood hit her in the face. This was the unique smell of her brother's room, like a warm fireplace in winter, which made her tense shoulders relax slightly.
Ye Qingliu's bed was located in the center of the room. A corner of the curtains of the four-poster bed was blown up by the night wind, revealing the figure inside.
When Hua Jinyue approached, she saw her brother wearing a black silk nightgown, lying on his side on the goose down quilt, his hair scattered on the pillow, revealing the delicate butterfly bone at the back of his neck - where he had the same laurel birthmark as hers.
"Brother..." she called softly, with a tremor in her voice that she didn't even notice.
The person on the bed didn't respond. Hua Jinyue reached out and pressed the bedside lamp switch, and a warm yellow light instantly filled the room.
She saw Ye Qingliu's eyelashes casting fan-shaped shadows under his eyes, his lips slightly parted, revealing a small section of teeth, his sleeping face was much softer than when he was awake, like a boy who had not grown up.
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