My Superpower Is Kind of Cute

Chapter 11: Supernatural Abilities and Spiritual Power

After chatting with Zhao Leichuan for a while, I kept asking him indirect questions about his previous ordeal, hoping to learn more about those two men in black from last night. However, Zhao Leichuan seemed genuinely clueless; his answers were completely off the mark. I gradually lost my patience and decisively hung up. He hadn’t even asked me about the magical cup yet—clearly, he hadn’t opened my gift. No sooner had I put down my phone than it rang again. This time it was an unknown number. I hesitated for a moment, then pressed “answer,” and immediately a pleasant voice came through the line. “Chen Meng, are you okay?” “It’s you?” I was a little surprised; I could tell from the voice that it was Xia Chun calling me. “How did you get my number?” “I asked Zhao Leichuan for it, of course.” I raised an eyebrow, even more surprised. “He’d give it to you?” For a guy like him—who’d choose a girlfriend over a friend any day—I’d never in a million years believe he’d give Xia Chun my phone number. Xia Chun gave a soft chuckle. “Of course he refused at first, but later he got drunk, so I naturally managed to coax your number out of him.” “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’re quite the little schemer,” I couldn’t help but remark. It was rare for her to call and check on me, though I wasn’t so full of myself as to think this meant she liked me. It was like two complete strangers who happened to attend the same party—one of them going out of their way to ask the other’s friend for their phone number just to get to know them better… Hmm? Come to think of it, does that mean she really does have a soft spot for me? After exchanging a few more casual remarks with her, I quickly said goodbye and hung up. Before ending the call, she made sure to remind me, “If you can’t handle alcohol, don’t force yourself. Just stick to juice at future parties.” I closed my eyes in exasperation. It seemed that, in her eyes, I was now just a weak man who couldn’t even hold his liquor. Thinking about last night’s events, I suddenly snapped my eyes open, rolled over like a carp, leaped out of bed, hurriedly flung open the bedroom door, and ran to the bathroom mirror. I’d been so dazed from sleep—after all that nonsense with Zhao Leichuan and Xia Chun—that I’d actually forgotten something so important. “Ah—damn it!” I stood on tiptoe to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and instantly let out a wail. My head was spinning, and it felt as if the world went dark the moment I closed my eyes. “What’s wrong?” Qi Yun heard my scream and hurried over from the TV. When he saw my state, his expression turned a bit awkward. “You look… just fine…” “Fine?” My voice shot up several decibels. “Didn’t you say I’d go back to normal after a good night’s sleep? Is this what you call ‘fine’? Then you’re a fucking ultimate, invincible Armstrong Spiral Accelerator Rod!” “It depends on the person…” Qi Yun looked unsure. He hesitated for a moment, as if searching for an excuse, before saying a few seconds later, “I seem to recall a book that says physical changes after possession are a normal phenomenon. As long as the body is okay, it’ll recover after a few days’ rest.” “Bullshit. You said earlier that you didn’t know anything.” I cut Qi Yun off. “Trying to stall me? You’re playing with fire.” “Now that you’ve got me all worked up, I’ve actually remembered,” Qi Yun assured me solemnly. “Within a week… no, a month—just watch—you’ll definitely turn back to normal. If by then, Mengmeng, you still can’t return to your original form, it won’t be too late to go and kill yourself.” I shot Qi Yun a withering glance, well aware of his desire to keep me from taking my own life. After all, I was the only one here who could still see him and chat with him. If I were to kick the bucket, he’d truly become a lonely, wandering ghost. Besides, what I said last night was just said in the heat of the moment—there’s no way I could actually bring myself to kill myself. First of all, I don’t have the guts for it. Better to live a miserable life than die a noble one. So what if I’m a little ugly? Looking on the bright side, this way Qi Yun can possess me every day, and I’ll have his incredibly powerful spiritual energy. Second, if I die, this novel will really end up unfinished… “I meant what I said…” Seeing that I hadn’t spoken for a while, Qi Yun timidly added. I waved him away, then went to wash up. Throughout the process, I didn’t dare look directly at my reflection in the mirror—it really does take a lot of courage to accept this reality. When I came out of the bathroom again, I struggled to get dressed and made my way to the kitchen. I stood on tiptoe to boil water for instant noodles, while Qi Yun watched me sheepishly, saying nothing. “What did those two men in black mean last night when they talked about ‘people with special abilities’?” To break the heavy atmosphere, I brought up a lighter topic. Seeing that I’d spoken up, Qi Yun seemed particularly excited. After thinking for a moment, he said earnestly, “I’m not sure.” I instantly lost interest in responding and suddenly felt that the current atmosphere was actually quite nice. A few seconds later, Qi Yun said, “Maybe it’s just a different term. Where I’m from, we call it ‘spiritual power,’ but here you call it ‘supernatural ability.’ It’s like the difference between ‘X-rated movies’ and ‘*****’—they’re both general terms for art films.” “I’m trying to talk business with you, and you’re going on about film criticism?” Hearing Qi Yun’s remark, my hand jerked, sending hot water from the kettle splashing everywhere—I nearly scalded myself. “Then what exactly are these ‘spirit-controlling artifacts’ you mentioned?” In the end, I couldn’t resist my curiosity and asked. On this point, Qi Yun showed great enthusiasm and patiently explained to me, “On our Hezhong Continent, one’s own spiritual power can give rise to a Spirit-Controlling Artifact. To put it simply, it’s a weapon—but unlike ordinary weapons, it can be controlled by the user’s will. The stronger the spiritual power, the more extraordinary the Spirit-Controlling Artifact becomes.” “No wonder that rope disappeared on its own last night. How about that man in black’s weapon—is it strong or weak?” Qi Yun gave a soft snort. “Around here, it might be enough to subdue or scare ordinary people, but on our United Continent, it’s nothing but a piece of junk.” I shot him a disapproving glance. “What’s your Spirit-Controlling Artifact?” Qi Yun turned his head away with an air of haughty pride and said, “I’ll use it when danger arises, but here, I’m afraid that day will never come.” I immediately let loose with a tirade: “You’re a soul-transferred guy who can’t do a damn thing, yet all you do is act all high and mighty.” That afternoon, I reluctantly showed up at the lottery shop to open for business, all the while explaining that I was Chen Meng’s older cousin and that I’d be temporarily taking over for her while she handled some matters—the duration of this arrangement would depend entirely on her ability to recover. If she couldn’t revert to her original self, then we’d just have to treat her as if she were dead. A regular customer in his seventies, wearing rimless glasses, kept eyeing me as he muttered, “How’s that kid Chen Meng doing? Is he all right?” My heart warmed—there really are more good people out there than I thought—and I replied gently, “Chen Meng is fine; he just wants some peace and quiet.” “That’s a good idea, a very good idea,” the old man said, nodding. “By the way, I’ve been a regular customer here for a long time—could you give me a discount?” I shot him a look. He was clearly taking advantage of the fact that I looked vulnerable right now—thinking he could get a discount. A discount? Do you think this is a grocery store? Seeing that I didn’t respond, the old man changed the subject. “What’s your name?” “Chen Ming.” I’d actually been thinking of coming up with a cooler name, but those two characters just slipped out before I knew it. “Nice name, nice name,” the old man nodded in praise. I really couldn’t see what was so great about it. Finally, he added, “So you and Chen Meng share the same ‘Qian’…” My face instantly fell. “Then you might as well just call me Chen Yue.” Compared to the name “Chen Meng,” right now I’m not just a pain in the ass—I’m a total pain in the ass.