Chapter 2: Awakener
Long story short, this could be the day Gao Yang finally put an end to his eternal singleness.
It all started two days ago.
His best friend Wang Zikai stole his phone and sent Li Weiwei a 300-word long confession as a prank.
When Gao Yang found out, it was already too late for him to unsend it. Although he had sent another message immediately to explain the situation, Li Weiwei didn’t respond. And she never struck up a conversation with Gao Yang for the next two days; she even avoided him at school.
Li Weiwei and Gao Yang grew up together. They had known each other since kindergarten because their families lived in the same neighborhood. Then they both moved to Li City and went to the same highschool. Fate had been keeping them close.
According to the memory of the original owner of the body before the age of six, he did have a crush on Li Weiwei. He had sworn to himself that he would marry her once they grew up back when he saw the pretty little girl for the first time at kindergarten. Unfortunately, Gao Yang came and replaced him before his dream could come true.
Thanks to Li Weiwei, Gao Yang had been the subject of jealousy from his male classmates over the years.
Gao Yang did care about Li Weiwei. He would even say that he liked her. Who wouldn’t like a pretty girl like her? Still, he had never thought about her that way. At the risk of being melodramatic, he would say there was a lack of spark when he saw her.
Their entrance exam and the following graduation were arriving in two months. Then they would all go their separate ways.
As Gao Yang’s best friend, Wang Zikai couldn’t bear to see the pair grow distant—well, in all honesty, he was just feeling bored and decided to set the two of them up, thus leading to the prank.
Two days later, Li Weiwei finally responded to Gao Yang’s message on WeChat.
[I accept your confession.]
Gao Yang didn’t know what to feel. Haven’t I explained to you that it was a prank Wang Zikai pulled? he wondered. Why did you ignore that?
This wouldn’t do. He had to explain again…
Then came another WeChat notification.
[Why don’t we meet up today?]
After a moment of hesitation, Gao Yang replied.
[Okay.]
…
Dawan Square, Shanqing District. Two o’clock in the afternoon.
When Gao Yang hurriedly arrived, Li Weiwei had already been waiting for a while.
It was the weekend, a rare chance to dress up. Li Weiwei wore a light green jumper. Her usually tied up hair cascaded softly down her shoulders. Whenever there was a breeze, her hair and the hem of her skirt would dance gently in the air. With a hand pressing on her ear to keep her long hair in check, Li Weiwei waved at Gao Yang, radiating happiness. “Here! I’m here, Gao Yang!”
However wonderful the spring breeze was, it paled in comparison to her blooming smile.
At that moment, Gao Yang could somewhat understand why the boys in his class followed her around like lap dogs. He had a good thing going on; he simply never appreciated it.
With a smile, Gao Yang walked up to Li Weiwei. “Sorry for being late.”
“It’s okay,” said Li Weiwei. “I went shopping with Qing Ling and bought some study materials. I bought two books for you too.”
Only then did Gao Yang notice the tall, pony-tailed girl standing not far behind Li Weiwei. She was using her phone with a hand in her pocket, the very picture of a cool girl.
Her name was Qing Ling. She was 1.67 meter tall[1] and entered the school as a student athlete for sprinting. She was Li Weiwei’s best friend.
And she was considered a goddess by the entire student body.
It was a given that she was pretty. What lifted her beyond the mortal realm was her always fair skin that was somehow impervious to the sun. Due to her training as an athlete over the years, her well-sculpted body had curves in all the right places and was so aesthetically pleasing that it belonged to the art museums. Her long, long legs could make any straight man fall head over heels for her.
Interestingly, unlike Li Weiwei, who had to friendzone her schoolmates every other day, Qing Ling had almost no suitors. Qing Ling never talked to boys, or more specifically, she always looked at boys with the instinctual revulsion one would look at a fly with.
Overtime, everyone learned that she hated men and stopped approaching her so as not to make a fool of themselves.
Gao Yang, however, didn’t think Qing Ling hated men. It was possible that she was simply…a beautiful lily[2].
Seemingly having noticed Gao Yang’s gaze, Qing Ling put away her phone and looked up to meet his eyes. Her presence and visible disgust were so overpowering that Gao Yang felt not only like a fly, but a fly hovering over a pile of shit.
“Are you coming with us, Qing Ling?” Li Weiwei raised her voice and asked.
Qing Ling gave Li Weiwei an angelic smile. “I’m good. You two have fun.”
Double standards! The sheer double standards she was showing!
…
Gao Yang and Li Weiwei spent the afternoon having milk tea, going to the cinema, and enjoying a meal at a barbecue place. All in all, it was a fun and fulfilling day, not one for the nerds who lived in their own reality.
Deep into the night, Gao Yang walked Li Weiwei home. She took the lead as they strolled along the quiet street, all alone. Then she suddenly turned around and asked, “Hey, did you regret it?”
“Regret what?”
Li Weiwei blushed. “Regret confessing to me.”
“Weiwei, I…”
“I thought you would be happy after I accepted your confession.” She cocked her head, her gaze uncertain. “But who knows. Don’t boys lose interest in the girl they are pursuing after she says yes? Because they realize they don’t actually like her that much?”
“No. That message…”
“Gao Yang.” Li Weiwei stared at Gao Yang with narrowed eyes, irked. “What’s with you today? Are you hiding something from me?”
“...Does it seem that way?”
“It does!” Li Weiwei complained. “You’ve been distracted the whole day.”
She was right. Gao Yang was distracted. He had wanted to take his mind off what had happened by going on this date, but trying not to think about something was no different from always thinking about it.
After debating with himself, Gao Yang spoke up, “Can I ask you a question, Li Weiwei?”
“Ask away.”
“Didn’t your granny pass away due to brain hemorrhage during our third year in middle school?”
“She did.”
“Did you get to see her for the last time?”
After a pause, Li Weiwei asked while blinking, “What do you mean?”
“I mean if you’ve ever seen her body.”
“Well, I was at school. When I went home, my parents had already sent her body away for cremation.”
“Ah.”
Of course they did, Gao Yang thought.
“What’s wrong with that?” Li Weiwei wondered aloud.
“Nothing…” Gao Yang trailed off.
Although Gao Yang had come to this world when he was only six, he had attended the funeral of their orphanage director before. Whether he registered it in his brain or not, he had spotted several differences between his original world and this world.
For example, it was common for people to be cremated first thing after their death in this world, foregoing any ceremony to bid the dead farewells.
It was done in such a hurry that it felt like an act to destroy evidence. Like the case with Gao Yang’s grandfather, as well as Li Weiwei’s grandmother.
Gao Yang’s heart sank.
That didn’t escape Li Weiwei’s notice. “What’s wrong… You don’t look so good.”
Giving it some thought, Gao Yang said, “Li Weiwei, have you ever thought that perhaps our world is filled with dangers?”
Li Weiwei tensed up immediately. “What are you getting at? Don’t, don’t scare me…”
“You know I encountered a man with mental illness last night, don’t you?”
“I did hear about that. It was thanks to the police shooting him dead that you didn’t get hurt. I was quite worried about you.” Then her face turned flushed. “That was actually why I made up my mind to accept your confession.”
Gao Yang shook his head. “That’s not the case. He never wanted to hurt me. He was giving me a warning.”
“A warning?” Li Weiwei seemed lost. “About what?”
Gao Yang summarized what had happened and told her about his grandfather’s death when he was five.
With fear creeping up to her, Li Weiwei snuggled closer to Gao Yang seemingly without noticing it, her supple breast pressing against his arm.
“Wasn’t that a dream? You were little…”
“No, it wasn’t a dream!” Gao Yang was certain of it.
“Do you really think…that your grandpa…” Li Weiwei couldn’t finish.
Gao Yang shook his head. “Not necessarily. But something feels off to me.”
“Didn’t you take a peek into the room? What did you see?”
Gao Yang didn’t respond. He did see something in the dream that was an amalgamation of his memories, but not even he himself could be certain if it was all made up.
“Actually…”
“Ah, forget it! Drop it…” Li Weiwei lowered her head. “Let’s just go home already.”
Gao Yang grabbed her hand. “Do you not trust me, Li Weiwei?”
Li Weiwei paused. It took her some time to overcome her fear. She nodded vehemently. “I trust you.”
“Then I’ll put my trust in you too. I don’t know who else to tell but you.” Gao Yang took a deep breath and mustered the courage to tell the truth. “I saw a hand.”
“A hand?”
“Yes. Or an arm, to be more specific. It was as thick as an average man’s thigh and covered in greenish gray scales. The scales writhed and rolled like a swarm of worms. It was quite disgusting…”
“God…”
“I don’t know what it was,” Gao Yang said with a frown. “But it was no human arm.”
“Gao Yang.” Li Weiwei looked up at him. “Do you mean an arm like this?”
Gao Yang flinched.
A white hot pain shot through him from his wrist.
Looking down, he saw the skin and flesh of Li Weiwei’s fair, petite arm split apart as greenish gray fleshy scales burrowed outward.
Moonlight rimmed the scales with a sickly pale, eerie glow. They grew longer and longer along Gao Yang’s arm and buried under his skin, feasting on his blood like leeches.
“Li Weiwei… You…”
Li Weiwei shot out another hand to clutch on Gao Yang’s neck, lifting him off the ground with ease. The writhing scales covering her arm turned into soft and sticky tentacles before forcing their way into Gao Yang’s mouth, nostrils, ears, and even the corners of his eyes.
Unimaginable pressure tightened around his skull. Gao Yang felt like his head would explode in a matter of seconds like a watermelon being microwaved.
“Thank you, Gao Yang.” Li Weiwei sounded the same as ever, if not more gentle.
With a smile, she said, “You’re my first awakener.”
“...”
“I’ll never forget you, ever.”
1. About 5’6” in imperial. ☜
2. Lily is used to refer to f/f romance in many East Asian languages. Starting out in Japan with yuri. Then Mandarin also adopted the term with baihe. Gao Yang is insinuating that Qing Ling may simply be into girls. ☜
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