The August summer blazed, the sun burning like fire, cicadas chirping incessantly.
Lin Zhexia curled up on the sofa with a bag of chips beside her. The room was dark except for the faint glow from the projector in front of her. The movie had reached an intense moment—the screen suddenly brightened as a ferocious ghost lunged forward with bared teeth—
The room abruptly lit up, revealing partial furnishings through the projector’s light.
The entire room was excessively tidy.
On the desk sat several volumes of “Competition Practice,” a black alarm clock, and a few black pens.
Besides these, there was nothing extra.
The only things that looked somewhat untidy and out of place were the snacks scattered about.
Lin Zhexia would watch the movie for a bit, then pick up her phone to send a few messages in a chat window—
Scam—
A scam—
The year’s most terrifying movie isn’t scary at all; it deserves to be reported to the National Anti-Fraud Center.
Ten minutes later—
Whoa—
But this ghost’s cry is unique—
Whoa whoa whoa.
Another ten minutes later—
It’s been half an hour—
You still haven’t replied to me—
Are you hanging out somewhere
Lin Zhexia lowered her head, typing the last sentence with particular care, character by character: and having so much fun that you’ve forgotten about me, your dad.
Within seconds after sending this message, there was finally movement from the other side.
At the top of the chat window labeled “Take Meds,” a line appeared: [Typing…]
A moment later, a few lines of text that exuded arrogance even through the network appeared on the chat interface—
Yes, hanging out, very busy—
As for not replying to you—
Don’t feel like chatting with someone who can’t get relationships straight.
Before she could reply, the other side sent another message: Where are you watching the movie?
Lin Zhexia looked around the room. It was completely different from her own room’s style, clearly a boy’s room with a projector installed in the living room. This was the main reason she had brought snacks and come here today.
But she felt a bit embarrassed to say it directly, so she replied with just three characters: Movie theater—?
Realizing that there were no horror movies currently showing in theaters, Lin Zhexia changed her answer: …Private cinema—
Oh
Lin Zhexia knew this person wasn’t so easily fooled. Sure enough, the next message after “Oh” was: Take a picture and show me. I’ve never been to a private cinema in my life, let me see what it’s like—
…
Where was she supposed to take a picture from?
There was no hiding it anymore, so she could only answer honestly: Your place. Didn’t you just buy a new projector? But then you went on a trip right after buying it, so I’m testing it out for you to see if it works well.
The other side seemed to have anticipated this answer.
After a few seconds, another arrogant message came through:—
So, who’s the dad?
…—
You.
Lin Zhexia’s fingers tapped on the screen, skipping even the struggle and smoothly surrendering:—
I didn’t get the relationship straight—
Daddy.
The conversation was interrupted by a phone call.
The familiar voice of Lin He came through the phone: “Xiaxia, it’s almost time for dinner. When are you coming home?”
“I forgot to check the time,” Lin Zhexia fumbled to pause the movie. “I’ll be right back.”
Lin Zhexia returned very quickly.
After hanging up, Lin He had just placed the dishes on the table when Lin Zhexia arrived at the door: “Mom—I’m home.”
Lin He glanced at her: “You came from Chi Yao’s place, right?”
Lin Zhexia was surprised that her mother guessed correctly: “You should change your job to fortune-telling.”