He screamed uncontrollably, flinging away the invisible yet palpable, terrifyingly cold hand just as one would cast off a piece of burning coal.
"Mingzi, what are you doing? You scared the hell out of me." His companion was genuinely startled and asked somewhat bewildered.
"I, I, just now, there was..."
The man extended his slightly chilled hand toward his companion, stammering incoherently, unable to articulate a full sentence. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novｅlfire.net
Before he could finish, Wen Xiao’ai’s angry voice rang out:
"What are you doing? You scared my little brother."
Wen Xiao’ai said this while seemingly worriedly pulling the young boy’s hand over to look at it.
In reality, the cold hand that the man had felt was not the young boy’s, nor anyone else’s; it was merely a small spell cast by Wen Xiao’ai as a prank.
Because the young boy truly existed, even though one couldn’t touch him, this act of inspecting the hand seemed very natural.
It was as if the person was truly there.
The man called Mingzi, looking at Wen Xiao’ai as she tenderly fussed over the air, turned pale, his face utterly devoid of color and the back of his neck and head growing increasingly cold.
He swallowed hard, the hand that had touched the ’air’ trembling in fear, and as it shook, so did his legs, and then his whole body began to shiver uncontrollably.
"Sister, what’s wrong with him?" The boy, bewildered by the sight of the man who seemed to have been greatly frightened, asked.
Wen Xiao’ai, holding back laughter, continued to dote on the air, asking, "Does it hurt? Let me blow on it for you."
As she said this, Wen Xiao’ai puffed up her cheeks and blew.
"Mingzi, this little girl has gotten addicted to acting," the man’s companion whispered into his ear with a chuckle.
"...No, it seemed, really, like there was..."
"There was? There was what? What the hell did you do? Why are you so pale?" The companion was even more perplexed.
"You better apologize to my little brother right now," Wen Xiao’ai demanded sternly, glaring at Mingzi.
Mingzi glanced over at Wen Xiao’ai and immediately averted his gaze as if struck by some fright.
"Hmph, you guys are really annoying." Wen Xiao’ai was clearly not accepting his apology and, hooking her arm through the air, made to leave again.
"Little brother, let’s go home."
"Hey, little miss, where do you live? Let us take you and your brother home," the man’s companion offered, reaching out to stop Wen Xiao’ai.
Mingzi tried to say something but was unable to utter a single word.
"You guys are this nice?" Wen Xiao’ai asked, on her guard.
"Well, we’re just worried about a young girl walking on the streets at night with her little brother," he explained. "If we hadn’t run into you, it would be fine, but since we did, think of it as doing a good deed."
"Fine then, you walk with my little brother. My arm’s all sore from holding him the whole way," Wen Xiao’ai said, withdrawing her arm from its embrace with the air.
"Okay, okay, I’ll hold him, I..."
The man laughed as he stretched out his hand to grab the air, thinking how easily fooled the little girl was.
The next second, he froze.
His reaction was exactly like Mingzi’s before.
He looked at his own hand in disbelief, then mechanically turned to look at Wen Xiao’ai, who stood with an innocently disarming smile, watching him, and then back at Mingzi.
After a few seconds of eye contact, the two of them, as if by silent agreement, turned and ran off like mad.
"There’s a ghost, there’s a ghost..."