I Share the Same Face with a Monster - Chapter 2

Chapter 4

When I turned around, there was no one behind me.

But he was still in the mirror.

He stood behind me, his blank face tilted slightly to one side.

I fumbled a fruit knife out of the drawer.

“Come out.”

He laughed softly.

Even though he had no mouth.

I just knew he was laughing.

“Xu Zhiyi, I can’t come out.”

“Then how did you touch me?”

He raised his hand.

In the mirror, his fingertips were still resting on the wrist of my reflection.

In reality, a cold ring had appeared around the bone of my wrist.

“As long as you can see yourself, I can touch you.”

A chill ran down my back.

“Get lost.”

“I can.”

He said, “But tomorrow, you have to walk the red carpet.”

I froze.

He said slowly, “Don’t you hate using that face?”

“Lend it to me.”

Chapter 5

I thought I had lost my mind.

At one in the morning, I sat on the bathroom floor, negotiating with the Faceless Man in the mirror.

He wanted to borrow my face.

Not my whole body.

Just my face.

“What do you mean?”

“Tomorrow night, you don’t have to go.”

“I’ll go in your place.”

“Wearing my face?”

“Mm.”

“What about the body?”

He lowered his eyes and looked at me in the mirror.

“Yours.”

I shot to my feet.

“You want to possess me?”

“Not exactly.”

His tone was very calm.

“While you’re asleep, I’ll take control of your expressions, voice, and limbs.”

“When you wake up, everything will be returned to you.”

I let out a cold laugh.

“Sounds perfectly safe.”

“It isn’t.”

He answered at once.

“Every time you lend it to me, you’ll lose one expression.”

Chapter 6

I froze.

“What expression?”

“For example, that ingratiating smile.”

He said, “You hate that one.”

I said nothing.

I did hate it.

But that ingratiating smile was the thing I used most in my line of work.

Brand dinners, media interviews, cast gatherings.

I survived on it.

The Faceless Man seemed to see right through me.

“You can refuse.”

I asked, “If I refuse, what will you do?”

“Keep watching you from the mirror.”

“For how long?”

“Until you really cut up your face.”

Sweat gathered in my palms.

“Why do you want my face?”

He was silent for a moment.

“Because I don’t have one.”

The answer was too light.

So light it felt fake.

But the next night, I still sent him the time for the red carpet.

I said, “Just this once.”

In the mirror, the Faceless Man lifted his head.

“All right.”