Chapter 101: Gigantophobia (9/20)

It hurt—hurt a lot, unbearably so.

Normally, if a stunningly beautiful girl wakes up on a hotel bed with considerable pain all over her body and no recollection of what happened the night before, it usually means something unpleasant occurred.

But unfortunately, Liu Xie’s pain was a headache.

Before opening her eyes, she felt a wave of throbbing pain, followed by some somewhat familiar voices chatting nearby.

“Eh, don’t you think this thing is a bit over the top?”

The voices were hazy, as if she were underwater while the speakers stood on solid ground.

But she could tell—it was Zhu Niao’s voice.

Whether before or after turning into a girl, Zhu Niao’s voice always carried a certain ethereal quality, an unusual sensation that was almost imperceptible.

“Actually, I think it’s normal. If anything, I find it kind of scary.”

This voice she also recognized. It was Yang Shuli’s.

He sounded dumb and naive, utterly sincere, like someone who could be easily persuaded with just a couple of lollipops.

Liu Xie, still with her eyes closed, couldn’t make sense of what these two were discussing.

Enduring the headache, she blinked open her eyes in a daze and looked at the two figures facing away from her.

She then heard Zhu Niao speak again: “You think it’s scary, which is understandable. After all, fear comes from the unknown, and this thing is absolute unknown to us.”

“To be honest, I think if we disassemble this thing, maybe we can use it as a Head Guard Cushion,” Yang Shuli offered his unique insight.

Curious beyond measure, Liu Xie mustered some strength, pushed herself up with her hands on the bed frame, and sat upright.

She then saw Zhu Niao and Yang Shuli poking at her bra, even tentatively jabbing it a couple of times with their fingers.

With her head full of golden hair, Liu Xie froze for a moment, instinctively clutching her chest, but only feeling softness like flowing water.

At that moment, Zhu Niao and Yang Shuli turned around, startled to see Liu Xie with her messy hair, then caught her rubbing her chest.

Zhu Niao immediately covered Yang Shuli’s eyes and scolded Liu Xie, “You’re still a kid. If you’re going to do something like that, at least do it out of people’s sight.”

Despite the headache, Liu Xie couldn’t stop herself from delivering a swift zero-frame chop to Zhu Niao’s head.

“Give it back. Does this size suit you guys?” Liu Xie reached out and took back her bra.

Nursing her aching head, Zhu Niao began wailing.

“By the way, how did I get back last night?” Liu Xie stuffed the black bra into her bag. She planned to shower anyway, so no rush to put it on.

She vaguely remembered taking it off herself and didn’t ask further.

But she couldn’t recall how she got back from the barbecue joint—it was like a sudden blackout, accompanied by a hangover headache that blocked her memories.

All she could recall were fragmented scenes mixed with dreams, blurring the lines between reality and illusion.

Of course, there were parts she could tell were dreams, like last night when Liu Anran carried her back to the hotel and she hung on him whining, even biting him.

That was definitely a dream—far more surreal than Gratange suddenly appearing by the seaside.

She’d rather believe that Kamen Riders and Ultramen could materialize out of nowhere than that the biting and clinging to Liu Anran was real.

Mainly because she didn’t dare imagine if that was real—it might as well be a death sentence.

“Oh, it was you last night…” Yang Shuli started to say, but Zhu Niao abruptly jabbed her finger into his throat.

She did it while Liu Xie closed her eyes to rub her temples, so Liu Xie didn’t even notice.

The dorm leader then supported herself on the bedside table and started to gag.

“It was you… The best fathers lifted you back into the room and even tucked you in,” Zhu Niao said seriously, but Liu Xie couldn’t detect any hint of mockery.

“Was it really you guys?” Liu Xie frowned. “You must have big hearts not to worry about me turning over in the middle of the night, face down, choking on my vomit and suffocating.”

Yang Shuli, having just recovered, looked shocked. “Are you a pig? How can you choke to death on your own vomit? If that happens, just swallow it back.”

“Alright, alright.” Zhu Niao grabbed Yang Shuli by the collar. “Go outside and find Xu Nian to play. Stop saying things that don’t match your image.”

Xu Nian and Gou Yu were waiting in the hallway outside the room.

Even someone with low manners like Gou Yu knew not to barge into the girls’ rooms.

“Phew…” Zhu Niao finally let out a sigh of relief after seeing off the only negative influence.

She looked at Liu Xie lying on the bed. “Honestly, last night the three of us took turns staying up with you all night.”

Now Zhu Niao understood why Liu Anran looked exhausted and bloodshot-eyed when she came out of Liu Xie’s room.

“You guys are really that kind-hearted?” Liu Xie said, but there was absolute trust in her voice.

“If there’s a free tour guide, of course, we’re not letting you slip away,” Zhu Niao said with a sly smile, not bothering to explain the jumble of reasons. As long as Liu Xie didn’t find out it was Liu Anran, it was fine.

“Alright, I’m going to take a shower first. Then I’ll take you all to the beach to play,” Liu Xie said, forcing a smile despite her hangover headache.

Zhu Niao also consciously left the room and immediately pinched Yang Shuli’s cheeks, pulling them apart.

Only when Yang Shuli let out a pained wail did Zhu Niao release her grip.

“When the second one’s done with the shower, we can head out,” Zhu Niao said, handing over the tearful and pitiful Yang Shuli to Xu Nian.

Then Zhu Niao tilted her head and looked toward the room next door.

Last night, when they parted ways in the corridor, Ye Qingchang had said she moved into the room originally belonging to Liu Anran—that is, the room beside Liu Xie’s.

She still cared a little about the roommate who seemed to have gone through an emotional ordeal yesterday.

After leaving a command for Gou Yu, the Chinese rural dog, to rest in place, Zhu Niao knocked on Ye Qingchang’s door.

She didn’t wait long. The door opened without a sound of footsteps.

Inside was darkness. The curtains were tightly drawn, and Ye Qingchang stood leaning on the door handle, her long hair loose.

Her face wore the same pair of black-rimmed glasses as Xiao Yi’an’s.

Zhu Niao clearly saw the exhaustion etched on Ye Qingchang’s face—not the kind of pain from a hangover like Liu Xie’s, but the tiredness of someone who had stayed up guarding all night like Liu Anran.

Yet, in those eyes was an almost terrifying calmness.