TBTTSP - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Zhang Xu Has No Story (3)

Either I misheard, or Shang Yi had gone mad.

Although the idea of a fairytale transformation overnight was nice, I was genuinely terrified.

Waking up to face Shang Yi, her pleasant and friendly expression made me think she was hiding a knife, ready to run me through the moment I got closer.

Be her daughter? No, thank you.

My mother had me at twenty-one after marrying young. If she were still alive, she'd be thirty-five this year.

Shang Yi looked twenty-five at most. Didn't you have to be young and beautiful to be someone's mistress? That's why I'd figured she was just a little older than a college student, somewhere in her early twenties.

I saw the little handsome guy next to us trying so hard not to laugh that snot was about to run from his nose, which convinced me Shang Yi was joking. But it really wasn't a very funny joke.

Shang Yi lifted her chin, giving off an air that if I didn't agree today, she'd make sure I could never hope to associate with her again.

Don't big shots like her usually prefer people to be their groveling servants? Why did she want someone to be her daughter? What kind of fetish was that?

Thinking over her words again, I figured she was probably annoyed on my behalf about the barbershop. With her naturally alluring eyes, which were as gentle as water, some lecherous old man had probably made a move on her, and it had upset her.

Playing the part of a master physician, I diagnosed the problem and had a flash of insight. "I can quit the barbershop, but my uncle might not be happy. I think the car wash is a good option. Everyone wears those blue uniforms, you can't even tell who's male or female. There definitely won't be any—"

Shang Yi stopped me, taking a deep breath. "Just pretend I said nothing."

I shut my mouth.

After a moment, Shang Yi got off the bed and studied me carefully for a second. "I'm not joking. Think it over and get back to me. I'm thirty-five this year, and I will never have children—"

"You're the same age as my mom," I couldn't help but blurt out, wanting to slap myself the moment I said it.

But I was a little skeptical. Shang Yi really did look like she was in her early twenties.

"Perfect. It must be fate. I have a foul temper and no patience for raising a child from the size of my palm to as tall as you are. And you're not bad. You're… uh, down-to-earth."

She definitely couldn't think of any other adjectives to praise me with.

Although I often dreamed of getting rich overnight—honestly, who doesn't? I still wanted to build a tile-roofed house in the village—the idea of waking up to become someone's daughter was something even I, shameless as I was, couldn't do. Besides, was I supposed to become family with Shang Yi after our second meeting? That didn't feel right. She had been in my body every day and knew exactly what kind of person I was, and she could still make such an offer, which meant she could accept me. But the change was too fast. I needed to process it.

And if I became her daughter, would that mean my mom's soul would be inside my body every day?

A little weird.

And even though my parents were dead, wouldn't it be heartless of me to get a new mom so quickly?

Seeing that I was silent, Shang Yi didn't press me. She placed a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Go to sleep. I'll have Ugly Boy drive you back in the morning."

Suddenly, the baseball girl rushed in like a freight train. Seeing the two of us, she screeched to a halt. "Sis, I found an expert."

"A monk or a Taoist?" Shang Yi asked. Just then, a monk and a Taoist priest walked in.

Great. Now we were about to reenact Dream of the Red Chamber. Let's see who the useless stone that couldn't mend the sky was.

Before I could figure out what was going on, Ugly Boy pulled me into a corner to sit.

The monk said, "Amitabha. The lost soul must be guided to the afterlife. All living beings suffer. We will absolutely not harm the benefactor. This humble monk will now perform the deliverance for you."

The Taoist said, "Humans have their path, and ghosts have theirs. Each must follow their own way. This humble priest will ensure the lost soul returns to the correct path."

Shang Yi's eyebrows were knitted so tightly they were about to fight. She seemed to be holding back her words, her voice weak. "You're both here? How is this supposed to work?"

The monk said, "This humble monk has three plans. Deliverance by the Future Buddha is one hundred thousand yuan. Deliverance by the Tathagata Buddha is eighty thousand—"

The Taoist said, "Nonsense, you charlatan! How can a soul be measured in money? I have two plans, A and B. Plan A is no more than five thousand, and Plan B is only ten thousand—"

Shang Yi waved her hand. "I'm fine now. My soul has been purified."

The two men went out. Standing in the corner, I watched the charlatans fight and was reminded of a family who lived two doors down from us who used to perform shamanistic rituals. They'd make several thousand yuan per session, and their home was always filled with the smoke of incense. I was incredibly envious and had even learned a few moves myself.

Though I didn't know why Shang Yi had suddenly called for charlatans, I thought about her recent invitation for me to be her daughter. Feeling emboldened, I raised my hand. "I know how to drive out ghosts."

"Oh, give me a break. The ghost is right in your—"

Those words were like someone blowing air in my ear in the middle of the night. I was so scared I jumped away from the corner.

The matter was dropped. The little handsome guy, oh, I mean Ugly Boy, drove me home. Shang Yi hadn't even heated the kang, and I tossed and turned, unable to sleep in the cold bed.

The fact that I had suddenly latched onto someone powerful became increasingly clear in my mind. Others spent their whole lives trying to escape their rural roots, but I had managed it just by taking a nap and having my body occupied for a bit. It had the fantastical feeling of a children's fairytale.

But if two people were going to live in my body forever, then I would definitely be tied to Shang Yi. I couldn't avoid it. I could only accept that a woman my mother's age would be worrying about my every need every day.

It didn't sound so bad. Since my parents died, I had never truly felt that anyone was my family.

I pulled out the notebook from under my pillow. Shang Yi's name had been added.

Xu Wanqing had written it. Those two were really something, always writing each other's names.

Looking at it every day didn't feel so lonely anymore. I put the notebook back.

---

The two of them brought a lot of excitement into my life. For instance, I walked into the classroom and couldn't find my seat. After searching for a long time, the class monitor, who had never spoken to me before, affectionately linked her arm with mine and pulled me to sit next to her.

When did I become her desk mate?

Her diary entry read: My Good Friend.

My best, best friend is Zhang Xu. She is the oldest student in our class, but she is very mysterious. Sometimes she is elegant, sometimes she is gentle. Sometimes she talks to me, and sometimes she doesn't. She knows everything about things ancient and modern, from China and abroad.

Yesterday she bought me snacks, and we ate instant noodles together.

I don't know how to use fancy words, but friendship is a ray of sunshine that warms my heart; friendship is…

It was followed by a pile of words that were a bit too fancy for us primary school students.

"Zhang Xu, look, I wrote about you in my diary. The topic the teacher assigned was 'My Good Friend.' Did you write yours? I have to collect the homework now." She shoved the diary in my face for my inspection.

Usually, when the teacher read her compositions aloud for the class to pass around and admire, she acted like she wanted to charge a fee.

It seemed we had indeed inexplicably become good friends.

But then I looked at my diary.

It was written by Shang Yi:

My best friend is a dog.

I handed in the notebook. She flipped it open, pretending to check the homework, and her face turned pale.

Still, she gathered the stack of diaries and took them to the teacher's office.

I finally had a desk mate, but she was such a good student that I didn't want to talk to her. So, during class, I talked to the students in every direction except for her.

The head teacher said, "Zhang Xu! Why is there talking wherever you go!"

My desk mate immediately raised her hand. "Teacher! Zhang Xu is reading an indecent book."

All the boys in the class burst out laughing. Before I could figure out what was happening, my desk mate pulled a copy of The Golden Lotus out of my schoolbag.

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