As his sleep deepened, Chu Xin had a dream unlike his usual nightmare of being killed. In this dream, he found himself confined within a glass box, while outside, a disheveled female ghost, her face a blur, relentlessly pounded against the glass.
*Thump, thump, thump, thump…*
Each strike resonated precisely with the beat of Chu Xin’s own heart, filling him with an overwhelming sense of dread.
Yet, he couldn’t awaken. The fear in his heart mounted ceaselessly, for the ghost’s approach was agonizingly transparent.
After a period of this rhythmic pounding, the sound abruptly ceased. The female ghost had vanished without a trace.
The former thumping suddenly transformed into a soft whimpering, intensifying Chu Xin’s fear of the unknown.
What was more, Chu Xin, still trapped in his dream, suddenly perceived that this weeping sound wasn’t merely a figment of his slumber—it was emanating from reality itself!
The thought jolted Chu Xin awake in his own bed, his body slick with a cold sweat.
Instead of attempting to fall back asleep or simply remaining awake, Chu Xin immediately began to listen intently to his surroundings.
Just as he started to convince himself it had merely been a sudden nightmare, the whimpering began once more.
By its direction, the sound seemed to come from the balcony just beyond the window, which was currently obscured by curtains.
Chu Xin had always found this architectural layout perplexing. A balcony was situated outside a window that wasn’t easily climbable, yet it lacked a direct door for access.
While it fit the blended setting of the original work, a mix of Japanese and Chinese influences, he couldn’t help but wonder if such a design wasn’t, in fact, an open invitation for certain individuals to discreetly infiltrate homes in the dead of night.
Chu Xin couldn’t fathom it, but the whimpering outside his window persisted without pause.
It was faint, yet under these circumstances, it sounded exceptionally terrifying.
In the pitch-black second-floor room, a girl’s whimpering emanated from near the window. Initially, he suspected it was the wind, but faint murmuring sounds were intertwined with it.
These murmurs, however, only amplified the terror, making the experience feel far more real. He could even faintly discern rustling noises.
Chu Xin swallowed hard. He knew that remaining in this stalemate was not a viable option, so he resolved to pull back the curtains and investigate.
Was it a supernatural occurrence, or perhaps a thief who had eyed the second-floor balcony as an easy entry point?
In the original story, there were very minor supernatural elements. However, these were introduced much later, primarily to advance the romantic subplots between the “yellow-haired rival” and other heroines, along with more risqué content, after the original protagonist had been completely sidelined.
Examples included the “Five Great Mysteries” of Maria Academy.
Some were even concocted solely to frighten the heroines, serving merely as convenient pretexts for suggestive scenes.
Thus, they could only be considered very, very minor supernatural elements.
So minor, in fact, that they barely qualified as supernatural. Yet, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t encounter genuine paranormal phenomena in this complete, immersive world.
He glanced at his phone, the time ’23:23′ on the screen catching his attention even more.
‘What a prime time to encounter a ghost,’ Chu Xin grumbled internally.
Listening to the increasingly distinct whimpering, Chu Xin took a deep breath and abruptly yanked open the curtains.
What he saw made his heart leap.
A blurry figure was crouched in the corner of the balcony, its disheveled hair the only detail discernible in the bright moonlight.
Chu Xin was startled, but before he could cry out, the figure opposite him was startled in turn, letting out a familiar gasp.
“Uh… huh?”
With that sound, the crouching figure across from him stood up—though, even standing, they appeared much the same as when they were crouched.
Still, they gazed at him with a hint of panic, their body trembling slightly, whether from the cold or some other reason, he couldn’t tell.
Given her petite stature and the orange hue of her hair, which became clearer as she stood, Chu Xin now knew for certain that the person opposite him was none other than his “childhood friend” who enjoyed “night raids”—Jiang Qianhe.
Jiang Qianhe only then realized that the person on the other side of the window was Chu Xin, not some lurking monster in his room.
She immediately cleared her throat, then, adopting an arrogant expression, she declared, “Ahem, good evening, Xin. Have you lost your tongue just seeing me? Don’t tell me you thought it was a dream? Am I really that important to you?”
Observing Chu Xin’s silence, Jiang Qianhe’s eyes flickered with a hint of panic, but she quickly composed herself. “Hmph, do you really think it’s a dream? Well, it’s not~ You can try telling me what’s on your mind, but don’t think a confession now will work, Xin~”
Chu Xin watched Jiang Qianhe prattle on, feeling somewhat speechless. She certainly greeted him with surprising casualness.
However, she seemed oblivious to the fact that this was his balcony, and it was half past eleven at night.
Having a neighbor, who liked to call herself his “childhood friend,” standing on his balcony at 11:30 PM to greet him was certainly… unique.
Thus, faced with the rather noisy Jiang Qianhe in the middle of the night, he simply pulled the curtains shut again.
Jiang Qianhe, witnessing Chu Xin’s actions, was utterly bewildered. She had planned to continue her playful teasing, but it seemed he was simply going to bed.
The realization sent a sudden wave of panic through her.
In her carefully constructed scenario, Chu Xin was supposed to blush at her words and then invite her inside.
She was dressed quite lightly: a black crop top that exposed her midriff and a pair of ordinary blue denim shorts.
While this attire might have been comfortable in a home without constant air conditioning, out on the balcony in the middle of the night, the wind combined with the low temperatures was unbearable.
Her body trembled slightly as she wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to generate some warmth.
She wasn’t angry with Chu Xin for this. Yet, the moment she considered that Chu Xin would never treat Ji Yue Xuan in such a manner, her expression instantly turned frigid.
‘In the future, I’ll have to subject Chu Xin to some “punishment,”‘ she mused.
She reveled in ‘disciplining’ Chu Xin with her unique brand of affection.
She was well aware that these thoughts of hers weren’t just “S&M” but also a form of aggressive “yandere” behavior.
Her particular brand of aggression differed from the traditional, as she would not only discipline her partner but also attack anyone who dared approach him.
‘But… so what? What if she was a yandere?’
The reason she wasn’t violently forcing the window open now was, ultimately, because she had revealed too much of her true nature earlier that afternoon. For now, she needed to maintain a low profile and dispel Chu Xin’s suspicions.
However, just as Jiang Qianhe was about to resume her “tsundere” remarks, she heard Chu Xin’s steady breathing.
She instantly panicked. “…Why won’t you let your childhood friend in? Your childhood friend is freezing out here by the window… Xin, where are your duties as a childhood friend?”
Still, there was no movement from inside. Her panic escalated, and she began to plead in various ways.
Finally, she cried out, “Please… just let me in… I’m freezing to death…”
Only after that last desperate plea did Chu Xin impatiently pull back the curtains. He distinctly remembered Jiang Qianhe’s personality not being quite like this.
“What are you doing in the middle of the night?” Chu Xin asked with a frown, lowering his voice to avoid waking Su Jin, who was a light sleeper.
Yet, Jiang Qianhe continued, oblivious, “Waaah, I knew Xin wouldn’t abandon his childhood friend~”
Chu Xin, feeling a surge of helplessness, prepared to close the curtains again, but Jiang Qianhe quickly interjected, “Don’t close it… Waaah, I’m going to freeze to death…”
Seeing Jiang Qianhe shivering outside, he sighed in resignation. He opened the window, intending to ask her purpose for coming.
After all, she had “raided” him at night before, but each time she would utter a few tsundere remarks and then quickly depart.
Surely, this wasn’t another one of those times?
However, when he opened the window, Jiang Qianhe’s body felt somewhat stiff, likely from the cold.
A helpless Chu Xin could only assist her movements.
He failed to notice the faint, hidden smile on Jiang Qianhe’s face.
The moment their hands met and Jiang Qianhe began to climb over, she feigned a slip of her foot.
She tumbled hard, pulling Chu Xin down with her. Her small frame landed perfectly on top of him, their lips inches apart. The faint, sweet scent of a girl once again filled Chu Xin’s mind.
As both of them were dressed in rather thin clothing, the sensation of their bodies pressed close was even more intense.
‘Why is it always like this…’ Chu Xin thought, just as he was about to speak.
Jiang Qianhe let out a series of “Ow, ow, ow” sounds. The commotion they had made was quite significant, and immediately, rustling noises came from Su Jin’s room next door. This was followed by Su Jin’s cool, detached voice from the doorway: “Is there something going on?” Even though her tone was flat.
Chu Xin could still discern the fear in her voice.
He quickly covered Jiang Qianhe’s lips, who was still sprawled on him, and raised a finger to signal silence.
Hearing no further sounds from Chu Xin’s room, Su Jin’s body continued to tremble, for she was genuinely terrified of such occurrences.
She spoke again, “Are you awake, Chu Xin? Can I… come in first?”