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    Chapter 6: I Hate You

    The moment she got the key, Wang Jiexiang returned to Little Rabbit Island.

    Before her was an endless starry sky.

    She rolled over and saw the little white rabbit lying beside her. They were lying in an open space.

    She studied the rabbit’s appearance: fluffy fur, chubby face, yellow eye shadow.

    “Yin Xian?”

    Her voice made the rabbit slowly open his eyes.

    “Mm.”

    Wang Jiexiang sat up and eagerly asked, “When you got home later, did you recite that ancient poem?”

    Since she had the key, did that mean she’d cleared the level? Would something about Yin Xian have changed because of her?

    “What poem?”

    His calm and emotionless response dashed Wang Jiexiang’s hopes.

    “The poem I taught you when I went back to when you were four—Night Rain Sent North.”

    “The person you met wasn’t me.”

    Yin Xian told Wang Jiexiang a ghost story.

    “After I entered that house, I couldn’t see anything. The world was pitch black. You disappeared. I fell from your pocket onto the floor and couldn’t find you. The space had no boundaries, even my shouting was swallowed by the darkness. Eventually, I got tired of searching, lay on the ground, fell asleep, and when I woke up—it was now.”

    A chill ran down Wang Jiexiang’s back. “So according to you, we’re still trapped inside that house?”

    She hurried to confirm, scanning their surroundings, only to discover… the open space they were in was exactly where his childhood home had been.

    Yin Xian’s explanation held up—they were still in the same place.

    Luckily, the house was gone. They weren’t trapped.

    “I’ll tell you what I experienced,” Wang Jiexiang said, exhaling deeply.

    “In that world, I met you at age four. It was a rainy day, your parents weren’t home, and you were locked outside reciting poetry. A man chatted with you and tricked you into following him. I tried to stop him and ended up being thrown onto a cart with you. After a while, we worked together to escape. We ran through an iron gate to a pavilion at the village entrance. You said you hadn’t finished learning the poem, so I taught you there. Then a wild rabbit came with a key on its neck.”

    He stayed silent through her entire story.

    Wang Jiexiang scratched her head. “Was I rambling?”

    “No, I understood,” he said. “The first half you described really happened when I was little.”

    Her heart sank. “Then what happened after you followed the bad guy?”

    His jet-black eyes looked like they were made of glass—empty and unreadable.

    Yin Xian looked at her, his voice distant. “Can I not talk about it?”

    “Okay.” Wang Jiexiang sat up straight, keeping some space between them.

    He changed the subject at just the right moment.

    “So you saved the me-you-thought-was-young? Said you wouldn’t, but you still did. How did it feel to save someone?”

    The way he said it made it sound like she was meddling.

    “Yeah, I said I wouldn’t.” Wang Jiexiang gave a fake smile. “We broke up. You don’t remember me. We’re basically strangers. That second part just happened to me—I helped a kid out, like brushing off some dust. No big deal.”

    She lifted her chin, emphasizing each word. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

    “Seriously? You’re this mad?”

    The rabbit grinned. “Wang Jiexiang, do you really hate me?”

    “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate.

    “Why?”

    “Because,” clenching her fists, Wang Jiexiang seemed to see the 29-year-old Yin Xian before her, “you’re cold, insincere, heartless, a lousy person, and dismissive. Because you treated me like homework rushed through the night before summer break ended, like the star anise tossed out after stewing pig’s feet.”

    Unlike every past argument, he didn’t shoot back with sharp words.

    One human, one rabbit—left in silence.

    Wang Jiexiang opened her hand. She still held the key.

    “This is the key the four-year-old you got from the wild rabbit. Might open a door here.”

    She tossed him the key.

    “You don’t want it?”

    The rabbit knew he’d made her mad, but he’d also just been scolded, so he couldn’t bring himself to be conciliatory.

    “You said it opens a door. Aren’t you going to try?”

    “Nope. I’m tired. I want to go home and sleep.”

    As soon as she said it, a giant Paper Crane flapped its wings and descended from the sky.

    That her words could summon transportation didn’t even surprise Wang Jiexiang. She immediately accepted the perk.

    “Looks like it’s here to take me home.”

    The Paper Crane stopped before her. She climbed on and waved at the rabbit without looking back.

    “I’m heading home first.”

    Seeing the Paper Crane about to take off, the rabbit wasn’t about to miss the chance to leave Little Rabbit Island.

    He took a running start and leapt precisely into Wang Jiexiang’s puffer coat pocket.

    She really was tired. Leaning against the crane’s neck, she closed her eyes, and before it even lifted off, Wang Jiexiang had fallen asleep, snoring softly.

    The rabbit’s ears flapped wildly in the wind inside the pocket.

    He stared straight ahead at the Paper Crane flying into the sky, the hope of escaping his cage seemingly right in front of him.

    But in the next second, Yin Xian felt himself falling straight down.

    The Paper Crane—and Wang Jiexiang—vanished into the sky above Little Rabbit Island.

    Wang Jiexiang slept soundly.

    Her morning alarm woke her. She stretched, got up from her small bed, and began brushing her teeth.

    She hadn’t expected to sleep an entire night after all the chaos on Little Rabbit Island.

    It was as if time spent there didn’t count in the real world.

    Yep, Wang Jiexiang clearly remembered everything that had happened on Little Rabbit Island—and she wouldn’t dismiss it as a dream.

    The reason was simple… Glancing at her window, which now had a huge hole, she debated calling someone to repair it.

    Mornings were her busiest time.

    Wang Jiexiang ran a cake shop. First thing in the morning, she baked cakes, cleaned, packaged, arranged the fridge and display shelves.

    By the time the employees arrived, the shop was nearly ready to open.

    Once customers came, so did the cake orders.

    She didn’t stop until the afternoon, when business slowed and she finally had a moment to breathe.

    After a word with the staff, she stepped outside for some air.

    “What time is it on Little Rabbit Island now?” Wang Jiexiang mentally calculated. Time moved differently there. Had days passed again?

    It was just a passing thought.

    Then that damned Paper Crane appeared again in the sky.

    “Since it doesn’t interfere with things here and I’ve got time, I might as well treat it like progressing through a game. Let’s go again?”

    She quickly convinced herself.

    Before leaving, she checked the shop for anything weapon-like. In the kitchen, two stale baguettes hadn’t been tossed yet. She picked them up, tested their weight and swing, found them handy, and stuffed them into her pocket.

    Riding on the Paper Crane’s wings, she soared through golden clouds.

    As the sunset glowed at her waist and wind whooshed past, she saw a white rabbit sitting squarely on his red rooftop—plump and motionless.

    This time, he didn’t come to greet her at the landing point.

    Maybe because they’d both been upset when she left last night.

    Even without memories, Yin Xian’s temper was still the same.

    “Hey.” She called to him at Feifei’s Home.

    No one came out, but a buzzing noise hummed from inside—maybe he was riding a motorbike in there or something.

    When it stopped, he came out holding a familiar jar.

    It was the same one that had carrot juice last time. Wang Jiexiang realized—he had been juicing.

    “Here.” He shoved the jar into her arms while deliberately looking elsewhere.

    Wang Jiexiang just needed a good sleep to cool off. Yin Xian, more petty, needed at least a few days.

    Thankfully, thanks to the time difference, both of them were now cooled down.

    Wang Jiexiang pulled a baguette from her bag, imitating him.

    “Here.”

    They exchanged items.

    Wang Jiexiang opened the jar and gulped down the carrot juice.

    Yin Xian opened his little rabbit mouth and boldly bit into the baguette.

    Crunch.

    After a strange noise, he spat out the baguette—half a tooth stuck in it.

    Awkward silence again.

    Wang Jiexiang rubbed her chin and quickly got serious, looking into the distance.

    “Come on, let’s use the key from last time and see if it opens anything.”

    The rabbit closed his mouth, tucked away his tooth, and followed her.

    After some trying, the key did fit a door.

    It was a yellow apartment building with three floors. Only unit 303 had a keyhole.

    Wang Jiexiang inserted the key—it fit perfectly.

    “When did you live here?”

    She didn’t rush to open the door, slyly fishing for information from Yin Xian.

    “Elementary school.”

    “What age?”

    He wasn’t sure. “Seven? Eight?”

    “Think carefully.”

    After thinking, he said more precisely, “Because of my dad’s job, we moved to a big city. I transferred schools. I remember it was second grade—so I was seven or eight. We moved into this apartment and stayed until I graduated elementary school.”

    That reminded Wang Jiexiang of her question at the previous house: “Do you know Yin Xian’s dad?” If she’d known more about his family, she might have gotten closer to the child version of him more easily.

    “Can you tell me what your dad does?”

    “Engineer. He builds bridges.”

    “Okay,” Wang Jiexiang didn’t hide her real question. “Games usually get harder with each level. This is the second house. That creepy adult man last time was hard enough to deal with—any hint what’s coming this time, so I can mentally prepare?”

    The rabbit shook his head. “If I knew, I’d tell you. But at that stage of my life, I didn’t run into a dangerous person like last time. I can’t predict what’ll happen in the house.”

    Then, just like before, he showed reluctance to let her enter.

    “Honestly, we don’t even know what the house is for. We don’t know if getting the key and making it disappear is the right thing to do. We don’t know what it all leads to.”

    “Besides, I told you from the beginning—these houses give me a bad feeling.”

    “So you don’t want me to go?”

    “Right. Don’t mess with things that feel wrong. Stay away from them.”

    She agreed with him, but asked, “Do you have any idea how to leave Little Rabbit Island?”

    Yin Xian stayed silent.

    After spending years with him, Wang Jiexiang understood his personality: “You’re the one who told me to try the keys and followed me along. I think… part of you wants me to open them, doesn’t it?”

    He didn’t confirm or deny.

    “Alright,” she said breezily, “This time I’ll go in alone. You wait outside so you don’t get trapped.”

    Turning the key, Wang Jiexiang stepped into the pitch-black space, leaving Yin Xian a dashing figure to remember.

    Two minutes later—

    The door opened from inside, and Wang Jiexiang walked back out.

    “I just remembered—there are some things I need to tell you.”

    Yin Xian was surprised at how easily she came and went. He perked up, listening intently.

    “I have a real world. I can go back at any time. If I want to sleep, the Paper Crane will carry me. But you can’t. I’ve been thinking… Little Rabbit Island is like a game world. You’re the host and main character. I’m a player invited here. So we can only play if you’re online, while I can log in and out freely.”

    “Since we’re playing a game together, to enter a level, both the host and the player have to click ‘confirm.'”

    She went on and on. He didn’t follow much.

    “So you need to…”

    “Uh,” Wang Jiexiang stepped aside from the doorway and put it plainly, “you kinda still need to come in and get trapped again. If you don’t come in…”


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