After dinner, Xia Bing left early, not even giving me a chance to walk her home. Probably because I discovered her little secret today. Well, women are like that—she’ll be back to normal in a few days. As desk mates, we see each other daily; no need to let things get awkward. Maybe I’ll tell her my past-life secret as a Doom Dragon someday. That’d even the score.
I didn’t burn the painting Shan Weihao gave me in anger. Instead, I grew curious. The creature in it is likely what this world calls a ‘demon’—or a monster, as I’d say from my past life. I’ve helped Shan Weihao so much; he wouldn’t gift me a life-sucking demon painting knowingly. He must be unaware. He mentioned it came from his dad’s business friend. Could that friend be targeting him?
I’m not one to meddle, but since we know each other, I should warn him when I get the chance. As for the painting… I’ll keep it hanging. The demon’s gone anyway.
But right now, the big issue is this extra comic con ticket. Who gets it?
“Shen Yufeng, Shen Yufeng, Shen Yufeng…” My mind chanted his name nonstop, giving me a headache.
Fine! I know I’ve got few friends. I’ll give it to that goof. Why do I feel so pathetic?
The next day at school, I handed the ticket to Shen Yufeng. He got so emotional, tears welling up—he almost used my shirt as a tissue.
“You’re truly my best bro! You never forget me for good stuff. Comic cons are packed with hot, busty girls in skimpy outfits. Perfect for eye candy! My true love might be there!”
“Isn’t your true love Cute Teacher? Changing your heart already?”
The lecher was stumped. He scratched his head sheepishly. “Bro, men are polyamorous. We spread love far and wide despite limited energy. Why hang myself on one tree?”
Isn’t that just being a player? Sounds fancy, but you’ve got no saplings sprouting. Drown in your fantasies.
“Oh, forgot to say—Cute Teacher organized this. She wants everyone to cosplay a character as a keepsake.”
“Cosplay? That’s embarrassing. I watch anime, but few characters suit me. Suggestions?”
“Naruto.”
“Oh! Naruto or Sasuke?”
“Neji.”
“Why?”
“The one who died most tragically.”
Time flew. A month had passed since high school started. Now it was National Day holiday, the weather cooler—perfect for a comic con.
“Dude, seriously? We’re going to a comic con, not ghost-hunting in a haunted mansion.”
“Yeah. I watched an anime called Fox Demon XXX. Wang Quan Fugui reminds me of myself. So I wore a Taoist robe and brought a Peachwood Sword. Problem?”
“So your ‘Wang Quan Sword’ became a Peachwood Sword? With that getup, if people didn’t know you’re heading to a con, they’d think you’re a fake shaman scamming folks. By your logic, anyone in a robe is Wang Quan Fugui?”
He’d worn this same outfit when catching the female ghost Mengze at my place. Silly, but fitting. “Idiot Taoist Priest” was his perfect title.
“Bro, why no costume? Planning to cosplay Hachiman with just dead fish eyes?”
“My outfit would scare people. I’ll change at the con. Let’s go—we’ve got bus stops to cover.”
We chatted like usual, bullshitting about class gossip. Guys talk about everything—except periods. From astronomy to teachers’ latest scandals, we were chatterboxes. Silly sometimes, but happily silly.
Lost in talk, we neared the con when a flashy red sports car shot from an intersection. We dodged just in time. It screeched to a halt inches away.
No injuries, but Shen Yufeng snapped. He grabbed the door handle. “What the hell! Rich folks don’t value commoners’ lives? Get out! You scared my bro! Pay up!”
What expression did I make? Stunned yet touched.
“Trying to scam me? You must not want to live!”
A bombshell girl with a black gem necklace and sunglasses stepped out. Few bystanders—I tried pulling Shen Yufeng away. He stood frozen.
“Shen Yufeng, drop it. We’re fine.”
“Damn it! I’m the 93rd-generation leader of the Taoist Path! Everyone used to bow and call me ‘Dao Ge’!”
“Yes, yes. Dao Ge, let’s go.”
I grabbed his arm. He shook it off like a drunk.
“Babe, don’t think I’m scared ’cause you drive a Transformer!”
I covered my eyes, cringing. That’s a supercar, not a Transformer. Have some culture.
She removed her sunglasses, sneering. “Thought it was someone important. Just students scamming. Bad influence. And you’re dressed like a fake shaman—swindling? Want a fortune read? Say something nice, I’ll toss you ten bucks for a boxed meal.”
Shen Yufeng bristled—being called a fraud when he was the real deal—but he smiled instead. “Since you seek help, I’ll read your fortune. Lately: little sleep, restless dreams, short temper, poor appetite. Plans keep failing. Right, humble Taoist?”
She froze. Could this half-baked idiot be right? When did he learn this?
“Pfft! Scammer. Not worth my time.”
“Madam, want the solution?”
“What solution?”
She denied belief but asked anyway—classic tsundere.
“A cup of brown sugar water. Three red dates. You’re just on your period!”
Shen Yufeng burst into an infuriating laugh. Her face flushed red and purple. She slammed the door and sped off.
“Haha… How’d you know she was on her period?”
“Guessed. Girls get fiery when it’s that time.”
“What about the ‘plans failing’ part?”
“Life never goes exactly as planned. Be content. That rich girl didn’t apologize—a little teasing’s fine. Just a little.”
