Monster

Perhaps it was the events of last night that left her mortified, but now, seeing this incoming call, her heart was gripped by fear. In just a few seconds, she began to wonder if, in her drunken stupor, she had lashed out at Jiang Chen, cursing him without restraint.

The shrill ringtone felt like a succession of death warrants; not answering seemed as irresponsible as fleeing the scene of an accident.

At this moment, she sincerely wished the heavens would drop a few axes and put her out of her misery.

What a mess she’d made, she thought, inwardly wailing.

She got up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. The hotel’s carpet was thick and plush under her bare feet, keeping the chill at bay. She sat cross-legged on the chaise lounge and answered Jiang Chen’s voice call.

He spoke first, his voice cool and slightly somber, “Are you awake?”

Ye Mian pressed the receiver closer to her ear, feeling a strange flutter in her chest.

His voice, reaching her in real-time from a distant foreign land, carried subtle electric distortions—both familiar and unfamiliar.

Ye Mian’s mind was a tangle of anxieties about what she might have done the night before, so she simply replied, “Mm.”

Jiang Chen asked, “Did you go to the hotel by yourself?”

Why was he asking that? Ye Mian was puzzled, but still answered, “I went with my two roommates.”

He continued, “Does your head hurt?”

“A little,” she admitted, wondering if she’d looked that drunk last night.

In a panic, she blurted, “Jiang Chen, did I say something yesterday? Please don’t take it to heart, I was drunk.”

“Hm?” He seemed to laugh. “What did you say yesterday?”

Ye Mian hadn’t expected him to turn the question back on her, and her mind blanked. She herself had no idea what she’d said; there were so many things she wanted to tell Jiang Chen.

After a long silence, she asked sincerely, “I don’t know—I was drunk. Could you tell me what I said?”

“Of course.” Jiang Chen’s voice was like the waves gently lapping the shore, every rise and fall suffused with gentle tenderness.

“You said, the first snow had fallen in Wen City.”

Ye Mian nodded. “Mm, anything else?”

A low chuckle sounded from the other end.

“You said you should make a wish at the first snow, and asked me to buy you a cup of honey tea today.”

“...?”

“And you asked me to get you some fruit and breakfast.”

“...?”

“So, I’m here to make your wishes come true.”

Before Ye Mian could react, Jiang Chen said, “Alright, freshen up, have your breakfast, and head back to school.”

Ye Mian had a vague sense that something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Glancing at her phone, she saw the call had already ended.

Outside, the light reflected off the snow, illuminating everything in brilliant silver.

Buy breakfast?

How was he supposed to do that?

She blinked in confusion. There were so many hotels in Wen City—how would he know which one she was staying in?

—

As she washed up, Ye Mian glanced at the time, expecting it to be very late, but it was only eight in the morning. Qin Feifei was surely still asleep.

There was no need to hurry out.

But the lingering smell of alcohol on her made her uncomfortable, so she decided to take a shower.

She had just stepped out of the bathroom, freshly washed, when the doorbell rang.

Ye Mian went to open the door.

To her surprise, it really was a hotel staff member at the door, dressed in a fitted uniform.

He was holding a set of wooden food boxes, and smiled at her, “Your delivery. I brought it up for you. Enjoy your meal.”

Only two small spotlights were lit in the room; Ye Mian found the light outside too harsh for her eyes and had drawn the curtains.

She sat at the table, staring at the honey water, tonkotsu udon, and a plate of sliced fruit inside the food box, lost in thought.

Then she picked up her phone, snapped a photo, and sent it to Jiang Chen.

[Good Sleep: Did you have someone send this to me?]

It was late at night in America; even the wind seemed to have fallen asleep, and the room was so quiet it felt as if the air itself had stilled.

Jiang Chen was half-reclining on his bed, a laptop beside him displaying a tangle of red and green lines. Perhaps the phone notification was too much of a distraction; he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He glanced down at his phone, unlocked the screen, opened the photo, scanned it, and replied.

[Jiang Chen: Yes. Eat up.]

So it really was him.

Ye Mian stared at her phone in disbelief.

Logically, no matter how clever someone was, how could he know her hotel address from overseas?

[Good Sleep: How did you know which hotel I was staying at?]

Silence from the other end. The chat window showed “The other party is typing...” for a long moment before a message finally appeared.

[Jiang Chen: Maybe you told me yesterday.]

Ye Mian blinked, a fleeting thought crossing her mind, and suddenly she smiled.

At last, she’d caught him in a lie.

She pondered for a moment, then decided not to type, and sent a voice message instead.

“You probably don’t realize, but I was drunk yesterday—my roommate helped me back, and I never even saw the hotel’s name.”

“So there’s no way I could have told you the address. Jiang Chen, your lying skills need work.”

Jiang Chen listened to her girlish voice through his phone, his eyes lowered in a faint smile. The night outside his window flickered in his gaze, a hint of unfathomable emotion swirling deep inside.

He pressed the button to record a voice reply.

“Alright, I’ll be more careful next time.”

His voice was as calm and gentle as ever, cool and uninflected.

Ye Mian’s eyes widened. What kind of answer was that? Be more careful next time? Is he planning to trick her again?

After thinking for a while, she curved her lips in a smile and sent another voice message.

“Then how did you know?”

[Jiang Chen: During our video call, the hotel’s name was visible on the pillow in the corner.]

Ye Mian glanced behind herself and, sure enough, saw the hotel’s name embroidered in the corner—small but conspicuous.

Before she could reply, Jiang Chen’s message arrived.

[Jiang Chen: In the future, if you get drunk and stay at a hotel, don’t video call people. It’s not safe.]

A flood of emotions welled up in Ye Mian’s chest.

At the very least, she could be certain that even though her feelings for him had been seen through and rejected, Jiang Chen still treated her with kindness.

She hadn’t detected a hint of annoyance or disdain in his tone.

Ye Mian let out an inexplicable sigh of relief, took a sip of the honey water, and let its sweetness dissolve in her mouth. The headache from her hangover seemed to ease with every sip.

All those regrets and restless feelings no longer seemed so important.

Everything had returned to how it was at the beginning. She just wanted to try her best to make life better for herself and her father, and to prevent any harm from coming to Jiang Chen.

—

That night, Jiang Chen found himself remembering the scene of that man’s death.

It had happened in the restroom at Wen University.

That man—neither fully human nor fully a ghost—had rushed to the window, cornering him: “Are you going to give me money? I’m your real father—are you going to watch me die? Or are you blaming me because of your mother?”

He had only watched, witnessing the man slip and fall, but never reached out a hand.

He’d thought through the distances again and again: if he had reached out then, perhaps the man would have survived.

But he hadn’t.

Moonlight spilled everywhere as he let out a self-deprecating laugh, his gentle features devoid of emotion.

He was a monster—perhaps even a murderer.

Someone like him could never be considered the best of people.

(End of chapter)