The world in front of her felt sticky, and every time she blinked, things became a little more blurry.

Jiang Xi’s eyeliner wasn’t waterproof, and the sweat running down her face had melted it into a mess.

But there was no time to wipe it off. She was too busy seducing the man in front of her, coaxing him into giving more of a response.

Her moves were bold, her expression intense, as if she were reunited with a long-lost lover. In reality, they had met just thirty minutes ago.

There was nothing she needed to see clearly, nothing she cared about. She shut her eyes, focused solely on creating chaos. Her throat felt like the scorched bottom of a dry pot. The man’s body was cooler than hers—touching his skin was like pressing her fingers to ice. The chill shocked her heart into a frenzy.

Jiang Xi trailed kisses down his neck, leaving behind a path of faint red marks.

The man turned slightly, trying to pull away from the situation.

“Can we stop for a moment and turn on the air conditioning and lights in the hotel…”

Before he could finish, his words melted into their tangled lips and tongues. Jiang Xi’s hand found his belt with unerring accuracy.

Click.

As she unfastened the buckle, his arm reached around her to slide the key card into the electricity slot.

The room lit up.

He lifted her chin, forcing Jiang Xi to open her eyes. He studied her expression carefully, making sure she was looking at him.

“You really don’t remember me?”

It was like a bucket of ice water on flames about to engulf her. This was the third time tonight he’d asked her that question.

Jiang Xi had to squeeze out the last bit of wit in her brain to think: What answer would get him to take off his pants the fastest?

“It’s my birthday today.”

She batted her eyes at him, her voice overly sweet, and her eyes showed a fake kind of pitiful sadness.

“Will you hold me?”

As she spoke, she tilted her head up to look at him. Two inky-black tears slid from the corners of her eyes.

The eyeliner had gotten into her eyes—it stung like hell.

Her motives weren’t pure, but she wasn’t lying.

It really was her birthday.

On July 18th, everyone received a red heat alert on their phones as the temperature went over 40°C.

On a day this hot, only two kinds of beings could stay in a good mood: humans with the air conditioning on, and mosquitoes zipping happily through the streets.

That evening, right around dinnertime, a fat mosquito latched onto an arm and began to feast greedily.

The owner of that skinny arm was Jiang Xi. She lay sprawled across the couch like a dead dog, scrolling through her phone in search of an AC repairman.

While picking a service date, she suddenly realized—it was her birthday.

Growing up had never felt like a big deal to Jiang Xi.

It was like playing pretend as a kid, and someone had told her, “You be the adult now.” She went along with it casually… and somehow, never stopped.

That metaphor was something she made up. Truth was, she couldn’t actually remember her childhood at all.

Most people don’t have memories from before the age of three. For Jiang Xi, that memory gap stretched even longer.

The mosquito, now full of blood, took off with flair, trying to make a clean escape.

Two large hands suddenly clapped together mid-air, ruthlessly smashing it.

The only living thing left in the house now was Jiang Xi. She felt hollow inside. As she scratched at the bite, she made an important decision: she would spend her birthday somewhere lively. Somewhere with air conditioning.

So Jiang Xi went to a bar.

She sat at the counter, chatting with whoever came up. Using her birthday as an excuse, she let loose. For once, she didn’t hold back—she drank until she felt alive.

Even in her drunken state, some sliver of sense remained. She pulled out her phone and ordered a ride home.

Just then, a new man took the seat beside her.

Gray pants. White shirt. Tall frame folded into the narrow bar stool. He didn’t order a drink—he spoke directly to her.

Jiang Xi looked up and met a pair of warm, smiling, almond-shaped eyes.

He was good-looking. Strikingly so.

His lips were on the fuller side, practically made to be kissed. His clean shirt was unbuttoned just enough to stir the imagination.

For someone with such a face, his eyes were surprisingly calm—clear and detached, almost cold.

In the dim light of the bar, those dark eyes fixed on her. He stared, unblinking, for a full ten seconds.

A shiver ran down Jiang Xi’s spine. Goosebumps rose all over her skin.

The music in the bar was loud. She missed his opening line and only caught the last part.

“…Finally found you.”

There was a strange excitement in his eyes, as if he had a lot more to say.

Jiang Xi brushed her hair back and leaned in, her ear practically touching his lips before she could barely make out what he said.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

— A very typical pickup tactic. Pretending they know each other.

She looked at his face and decisively shook her head.

“That’s okay, I know you. I’ve been looking for you all night.”

Touching her flushed face, Jiang Xi pushed down the contempt in her eyes and gave a short laugh.

This time she not only heard it clearly, she understood it.

What he meant was: he had been circling the bar all night and finally decided she was the one.

Her phone vibrated. The ride had arrived.

“Want to talk somewhere quieter?” She waved at him, picked up her bag, and walked out.

The dancing crowd was packed tight, full of people having fun and crowding together. They had to squeeze through to get out. The man stayed right beside her, and now and then, she’d bump into his arm.

By the time they made it out, their hands had naturally ended up clasped together.

Walking down the street, a wave of heat hit them in the face, the air thick like it had glue in it.

The man swung their joined hands a little, somewhat clingy for no reason. “Did you remember me now?”

Jiang Xi frowned. “You sure you didn’t mistake me for someone else?”

The man didn’t answer, just tightened his grip on her hand.

Jiang Xi felt dizzy and unsteady as she walked toward her taxi.

Before getting in, he asked, confused, “Where are we going?”

Jiang Xi didn’t get why he was pretending to be so innocent.

“A hotel?”

“You don’t even remember me, but you want to take me to a hotel?” His face darkened.

“Too fast for you? Don’t want to go, then don’t.” Jiang Xi shrugged and got in the car, about to close the door.

He grabbed the car handle and got in, face cold and unreadable.

After that, the taxi brought them to the hotel. In the room, he asked her for the third time—

“Do you really not remember me?”

His warm fingertips gently wiped away the tears that had welled up at the corners of her eyes. She had been fake-crying, but his expression had somehow turned more serious.

But that wasn’t what Jiang Xi wanted.

When she pitifully said today was her birthday, it was because she wanted him to show some decency, get on with it, and stop acting and wasting time.

“Take a good look at me again,” he said, as if he’d lost his mind—he just wouldn’t stop.

After being strung along for so long, Jiang Xi finally lost her temper.

What was this guy playing at? If he couldn’t handle it, then forget it—she was going home to sleep.

“I looked. You’re pretty average,” Jiang Xi said with a sly smile, deliberately trying to disgust him. “Not as good-looking as my ex, or my ex-ex. You’ve got one of those common faces—whether I know you or not, doesn’t really matter.”

She pulled out the room key and headed for the door, cursing her bad luck in her mind.

But she didn’t make it out.

The door slammed shut behind her. The man moved decisively, one strong arm wrapping around her waist and pinning her to the wall.

A flash of lightning streaked across the sky outside, followed by a loud rumble of thunder.

The air inside the room felt suffocating, as if just waiting for the downpour to begin.

Her whole body went soft, like her bones just vanished, and she collapsed right into his arms. The lingering alcohol flushed away what was left of her rationality and flooded her mind.

As if driven by some deep-seated grudge, he showed her no mercy.

His fierce and drawn-out kiss stole the last breath of air from Jiang Xi’s lungs. Overwhelmed, she instinctively tried to pull back. Sensing her retreat, he hoisted her up without warning, trapping her firmly in his arms.

It was overwhelming—like she might suffocate.

And yet, Jiang Xi had to admit: she liked it.

It was wild. It felt like she was on the edge of death.

Dizzy, feverish, dazed. In the dark room filled with stifling air, her feet lifted off the ground. She obediently wrapped her arms around his neck and let his scent invade her senses.

Numbed by alcohol, her dulled sense of smell picked up something peculiar.

A scent that seemed hauntingly familiar.

There was a faint sweetness to him—intoxicating the more she breathed it in, like it carried a subtle poison.

That scent reminded Jiang Xi of summer.

In summer, everything ripens quickly. And the moment a fruit emits its most alluring and fragrant aroma is often just before it begins to rot.

Did she know him? Jiang Xi belatedly asked herself.

Maybe she did. But so what?

Outside, the rain finally came.

It drenched the windowsill, leaves rustled and scattered.

Soon, the night was completely drowned in rain. They tumbled onto the bed.

“It’s raining,” he said.

Jiang Xi didn’t hear him.

She was utterly exhausted and slipped straight into a dark, sweet sleep.

In the middle of the night, the sound of rain woke her. Beside her, there was the soft rhythm of someone breathing.

The air conditioner was working fine—the room was comfortably cool.

The blanket had been completely stolen by Jiang Xi. The man’s arm was icy cold, like a corpse. That thought made her rub her eyes and, out of habit, glance toward the foot of the bed.

There, at the foot of their bed, stood a blurry, faceless figure.

It was a vaguely human-shaped mass of pale white. Even from a distance, its terrifying outline could be seen; but up close, it dissolved into a shapeless, vacant white. Around where its “face” should’ve been, it was staring directly at Jiang Xi. It seemed like there were eyes hidden in that whiteness—eyes she couldn’t see, fixed on her with a cold, unblinking stare.

This was why Jiang Xi didn’t like being home alone.

Even after another year had passed—even though she was older now—Jiang Xi knew that her dead sister, Jiang Xiaochan, would never let her go.