Chapter 31

  On the fourth night, she heard a faint metallic sound in her sleep. It seemed like keys opening locks. A tired body walked in. She felt a slight white light flickering on her eyelids, like pure holy light left behind in heaven, warming her soul.

  A voice of God came into his ears: "Eh? What are you doing so late?"

  This strange question made her unsure of how to answer. She was still thinking when God seemed to push her body, pushing her from heaven back to the mortal world. She woke up and found herself sitting in the living room.

  The living room at midnight, the clock on the wall is about to point to twelve o'clock. The cursed black night, the festering body blocked outside the window. Everything returns to deathly silence. Only that 25-inch TV set was still flashing with worm-like crawling snowflakes and a hissing sound. The air was filled with a strong meaty smell.

  Youyou was still in a daze facing the quiet scene, but it was her father who bent down and looked at her with concern, asking: "Little You, why are you still watching TV so late?"

  She gazed blankly at her father for a moment, and then suddenly, like a corpse floating up from the bottom of a river, she came to. She let out an "ah" and asked herself, "How did I end up here?"

  "Huh?" Dad seemed just as perplexed. "Don't you know what you're doing?"

  "I was just sleeping in the room." Youyou felt that this strange phenomenon was simply inexplicable, she was still dreaming, but when she woke up, she was sitting in the living room, watching TV, with...

  Still holding in his hand was a half-eaten zongzi!

  She was so frightened that she quickly let go of her hand, and the zongzi in her hand rolled around on the tea table before stopping. She was terrified and couldn't understand how she was eating zongzi! Eating zongzi wasn't a terrifying thing, what was terrifying was that she had no consciousness of this behavior at all. Not to mention, she might have even killed someone unconsciously and buried them in a desolate wilderness...

  She hastily grabbed a stack of tissues from the tissue box on the coffee table and furiously wiped her mouth, just like a criminal desperately cleaning up a bloody crime scene. The tissues were instantly stained with grease and blood. Yes, blood. Her mouth was bleeding! She was shocked by the terrifying sight of the bloodstains that had burst forth like flower petals, and she began to shiver violently.

  Fear crashed into fear, like a chain of car accidents, crashing her to the brink of collapse. She let out a loud cry and threw the tissue far away.

  "Dad, what's going on?!"

  Dad was also shocked, he began to think that she might have gum bleeding, he saw the half of the zongzi on the tea table was stained with blood, but then he found something, grabbed his daughter's right hand and shouted.

  "Oh no, how did your finger get hurt?"

  Only then did Yu You discover that the middle finger of her right hand had a bleeding wound. She gently pressed it with her hand, and it hurt. The blood flowed at the wound, like shattered glass being rubbed into the flesh. She deliberately bit her teeth, which were fine, without any injury or pain, clearly indicating that the blood was not from her mouth, but from her fingers.

  Due to the two reasons of blood loss, her right hand's middle finger became slightly pale and numb, with the greenish-blue veins standing out clearly on the skin. When she moved that finger slightly, it felt somewhat stiff, as if it no longer belonged to her own body.

  Things are getting stranger and stranger.

  It can be inferred that she bit her fingers, dripped blood onto the zongzi, and then ate the bloody zongzi. Youyou felt the sweet and fishy blood suddenly gushing into her stomach, stimulating the gastric juice to churn, and a nauseating vomiting sensation rushed up to her throat. She hurriedly ran to the bathroom and vomited desperately, spitting out the undigested bloody zongzi residue from her stomach into the toilet bowl, shaped like extremely rotten internal organs.

  Then the water washed all this disgusting residue and gastric juice into the dark hole. Youyou finally let out a sigh of relief.

  "Dad stood at the bathroom door and asked in a tired voice: "Xiao You, are you okay? Do you want to go see a doctor tomorrow?"

  He thought for a moment and waved his hand.

  "It's okay. I think it might be because you just had surgery and your body hasn't fully recovered yet. Don't worry, you'll get better after a few days. Dad, go to sleep. You're working overtime again until so late tonight?"

  "Dad sighed and blinked a few times with heavy eyelids, saying: 'No way, the newspaper often has to rush to meet deadlines... I'll go sleep first.'"

  Dad dragged his tired body towards his room and closed the door.

  She gazed at his tired back, and her heart felt a pang of sadness. Her father had been an editor at the newspaper for over twenty years, working from dawn till dusk, but their family's circumstances hadn't improved one bit. She remembered writing an essay in elementary school titled "My Dream". At that time, she wrote about growing up to make lots and lots of money and becoming a rich lady; or maybe becoming a beautiful woman and marrying a wealthy man.

  She still remembers that this composition was scored zero by the teacher and was ruthlessly ridiculed by her classmates as a money-loving slave. This name accompanied her throughout her elementary school years. During that time, not a single child wanted to play with her, probably because they were afraid she would ask them for money or something. But in fact, her family had not yet become so poor, and every time someone in the class lost something, the first suspect was always her.

  Who made her ideal say she loves money!

  But who doesn't love money? Poor kids of course like money! This is a matter of course!

  But she will never say that she loves money in front of others again. She didn't give up her ideals, but she learned to be hypocritical.

  So, after entering junior high school, she began to make many more good friends than in elementary school. In the second year of junior high school, she met Du Jiajun. Du Jiajun's family was very rich, so Youyou was willing to be friends with her. She didn't mind being friends with herself either.

  Somehow, children of wealthy people always seem to have a broad mind. They lack nothing, including friendship. Update first.