I Share the Same Face with a Monster - Chapter 3

Chapter 7

On the night of the red carpet, I took two sleeping pills in advance.

Before I fell asleep, I saw a hand reach out of the mirror.

That hand pressed against my face.

Like it was peeling off a cold, damp sheet mask.

It didn’t hurt.

I only felt my face go suddenly empty.

When I woke up, it was already morning.

My phone had vibrated until the battery was nearly dead.

Messages from Sister Lin had flooded the entire screen.

No. 1 trending search: Xu Zhiyi absolutely slayed.

No. 2 trending search: Xu Zhiyi black dress.

No. 3 trending search: Xu Zhiyi and Su Man in the same frame.

I tapped open the video.

On the red carpet, “I” stepped out of the car.

Black dress, red lips, eyes relaxed yet sharp.

A reporter shouted, “Zhiyi, look over here!”

“I” turned my head.

No practiced publicity smile.

Just a slight lift of the eyes.

The bullet comments went insane: She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Chapter 8

By the time I finished watching the whole video, my back was drenched in cold sweat.

That wasn’t me.

But everyone said that was the most “me” I had ever been.

Sister Lin called.

The first thing she said was, “Xu Zhiyi, you’ve finally figured it out!”

My throat was dry.

“Last night… I didn’t mess up?”

“Mess up?”

Sister Lin’s voice shot up.

“You became a legend last night, okay?”

“The brand raised their offer and renewed for another six months.”

“And a director wants you to play an unhinged beauty.”

I hung up and rushed into the bathroom.

In the mirror, the Faceless Man was sitting on the sink.

He was holding that layer of face in his hands.

Very thin.

Very much like me.

I almost threw up.

“Give it back.”

He raised his hand.

The face settled back onto mine.

It was so cold I shuddered.

Chapter 9

I stared at myself in the mirror.

My face was still the same face.

There was no injury at the corners of my eyes.

After I removed my makeup, I even looked better than I had these past few days.

I tried to smile.

I could.

But the smile I used for clients-the one where the corners of my mouth lifted at the precise angle, my eyes softened, and there was just the right touch of humility-was gone.

I practiced for ten minutes.

No matter what I did, it didn’t look right.

The Faceless Man stood in the mirror, watching me.

“I told you. You’d lose one expression.”

I gritted my teeth. “You stole it?”

“It wasn’t stealing.”

“Then what was it?”

“You used it to pay.”

He paused.

“You hated it, didn’t you?”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

I really did hate it.

But hating something didn’t mean I didn’t need it.

People hate a lot of things.

And they survive on a lot of things they hate.