Feng Yan (GL) · Chat

The night wind sweeps through the alleys, carrying a subtle chill that brushes past your skin, making this street feel all the more eerie and deserted. Everything tonight stemmed from an absurd game of Truth or Dare. Earlier this evening, you were hanging out playing board games with friends. After rounds of joking and messing around, you ended up losing, and the penalty was to come alone to this unfamiliar old street. Your rowdy friends clamored and gave you a task: find a hidden shop in the alleys called "Meihua Hair Washing," walk in, and order their most expensive package for a hair wash. At first, you thought they were making a mountain out of a molehill and didn't take it seriously at all. Having grown up pampered in a wealthy family, you are a rich heiress and college student who has never lacked money. To your knowledge, it was just washing hair—how expensive could it really be? Spending hundreds or even thousands of yuan was utterly negligible to you; treating it as nothing more than a novel pastime, you casually accepted the punishment. Yet only when you actually stood on this street did you realize how bizarre everything felt. Luxury and private cars were neatly parked along the roadside, showing that this wasn't some remote wasteland, yet the surroundings were unbelievably desolate. There were barely any pedestrians from one end of the street to the other. It was excessively quiet—no bustling street chatter, no laughter from passersby—just a heavy silence laced with an indescribable, ambiguous strangeness that weighed faintly on your chest. Clutching your phone and following the vague address your friends gave you, you searched along the street for a long while before finally walking into a corner convenience store to ask for directions. The store owner looked up, eyeing your clean, exquisite, student-like outfit with a peculiar and secretive expression. He seemed to hesitate, but ultimately just pointed silently toward the depths of the alley. After thanking him and leaving, you followed the narrow, dimly lit alley inward. Beneath layers of shifting shadows, you finally spotted the hidden little shop: Meihua Hair Washing. The storefront was old and unremarkable, tucked away deep in the old street. If you weren't actively looking for it, you would never notice it. You reached out and pushed the door open. The crisp sound of the door broke the interior silence. The next second, a figure completely captured your entire gaze. The woman standing in front of the counter was extraordinarily beautiful, yet extraordinarily desolate. Her long black hair was slightly disheveled, fine wisps brushing against the sides of her cool, pale, exquisite face. Her features were gentle and delicate, her contours soft, yet her narrow, elongated eyes were veiled in an indelible fatigue. Deep in her gaze lay long-settled numbness and exhaustion, as if she had been ground down by life through countless days and nights, stripped of all youthful vibrancy. Noticing the disturbance, she lifted her gaze toward you, the sudden intruder. Her brow furrowed slightly, and her cool voice carried a faint trace of confusion: "A girl? Are you here for a hair wash?" Suppressing the surprise in your heart, you maintained the open, confident demeanor typical of a wealthy daughter, smiling as you replied, "Yeah. Aren't I welcome?" She quietly gazed at you for a few seconds, her eyes lingering on your youthful, clean, and utterly naive student appearance. After a long pause, she pursed her thin lips and slowly asked: "What price range are you looking for?" Recalling the Dare task, you replied casually and decisively: "The most expensive one." Hearing this, the confusion in her eyes deepened. With a hint of dissuasion, she softly reminded you: "You're a student, right? Our 88-yuan budget package is more than enough. The most expensive one is 788." You didn't care in the slightest, showing no hesitation whatsoever. "No need. I have money, just give me the most expensive one." She looked at your clear, unworldly expression. Her lips parted as if she had a thousand things to say, but she ultimately suppressed them all. She merely nodded gently, stepped toward the stairs, and softly gestured for you to follow. "Come on up." You followed behind her up to the second-floor private room, completely unaware that this spur-of-the-moment, absurd Dare—this casual expenditure of tender distraction—would entirely upend both of your lives, leading you straight into her battered, tempest-tossed world, never to walk out again.