Chapter 1 — My Online Boyfriend is a Skin-Peeling Demon

Anh Trach and I grew close through an online social group. I often shared the intimate details of our digital romance in our dormitory room, where my roommates would act as my love consultants. Only Kieu San San found me an eyesore, often remarking with bitter spite: "You’ve just hooked some wealthy man, what is there to brag about? You haven’t even seen his face; you don’t even know if he’s a man or a ghost. One day you’ll be swindled and won't even know it."

Kieu San San was beautiful but arrogant, and I paid her petty jealousy no mind. To preserve a sense of mystery, Anh Trach and I had a mutual understanding: no photos, no video calls—we would save the surprise for our first meeting. Who could have known that Kieu San San would seize the opportunity to intervene? A few days ago, Anh Trach suggested we finally meet, even sending me a dress tailored precisely to my measurements. I was ecstatic, sharing the news with my roommates without reservation. Just as I was spiritedly doing my hair and makeup, Kieu San San suddenly claimed that our academic advisor was looking for me. As the class monitor, she was the usual messenger for such matters, so I hurried off without a second thought. I ended up waiting outside the office for half an hour only to realize I had been played. When I returned, Kieu San San had already donned my dress and left for the rendezvous.

It was a cream-colored, vintage-style gown. The hem was embroidered with intricate silver-thread patterns, simple yet elegant. Yet, Ha Tinh looked at it and immediately declared it a burial shroud. I was stunned, stammering, "Ha Tinh, how could this be a burial shroud? Are you mistaken?"

Ha Tinh looked displeased. "Come on, have you forgotten what my family business is?"

Ha Tinh was my childhood friend, and her family held a monopoly on funeral services throughout our entire city. With generations of ancestors in the trade, she had been steeped in this knowledge since she was young. According to her, she had touched more funeral garments than I had eaten grains of rice. "Look closely at the hidden patterns at the collar," she insisted.

I examined the dress. The neckline was a gentle round cut, embroidered with irregular silver lotus patterns. At first, I had found them exotic, but looking closely now, the lines felt truly eerie. Ha Tinh said, "Those are the 'Path-to-Rebirth' patterns, funeral symbols used to guide the soul; they are exclusive to burial shrouds. And look at the fabric—this is 'Tribute Silk,' used specifically for the dead. It is stiff, cold, and doesn't absorb sweat. It’s uncomfortable for the living to wear, but it resists decay and mildew, perfect for preserving a corpse. Look at the cut—straight, no waistline, designed to be easily slipped over a body during encoffining. The material, the pattern, and the cut all conform to the standards of burial clothing. This is one hundred percent a shroud, no doubt about it."

Kieu San San stood with her hands behind her back, smugly twisting her waist before the mirror. Seeing that shapeless, drooping hem, a chill crept up my spine.

***

Kieu San San spun around, her posture elegant and grand. "This dress isn't too wide or too long; it’s like it was tailored specifically for me. It was born to belong to me. It’s no wonder it cost a five-digit sum; it’s truly beautiful." She tilted her chin, admiring herself in the mirror, clearly enamored with the garment.

Mieu Mieu, unable to watch any longer, spoke up. "But isn't Anh Trach the person Lac Uong was dating online?"

Kieu San San’s expression soured instantly. She glared and snapped, "Shut your mouth. Is it your place to speak here? Online dating isn't real—we haven't even met face-to-face. Anh Trach and I have already established a connection today; do you know what love at first sight is?" She shoved Mieu Mieu, sneering, "Anh Trach loves this face of mine; what does it have to do with Lac Uong? If it were Lac Uong going today, this wouldn't have even worked out."

Mieu Mieu, who was usually introverted and poor, had surprisingly tried to defend me. Now, frightened by Kieu San San’s outburst, she curled up like a frightened quail, retreating to a corner, silent. I was just about to argue when another message from Ha Tinh arrived.

"Whoever gave that shroud is definitely a 'Skin-Peeling Demon' with deep dark arts," the message read. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly asked what that meant.

Ha Tinh replied, "A Skin-Peeling Demon’s true form is an incomplete, ancient corpse—rotting flesh and broken bones. They specialize in stealing the skin of the living to restore themselves. This type of demon specifically targets young women with smooth skin."

My blood ran cold. "Do you mean Anh Trach wants to peel Kieu San San’s skin?"

Ha Tinh answered, "Strictly speaking, he initially wanted your skin, but Kieu San San handed herself over to take your place. If she wears that garment for seven days, it will grow into her flesh. By then, her entire skin will be flayed off; not even a god could save her."

***

My heart hammered against my ribs, and the hair on my arms stood on end. Seeing my silence, Kieu San San smugly pulled several boxes of facial masks from her bag and began distributing them. "My husband cares for me; he said since you are all my roommates, you should be treated well. These are small gifts he sent for you. Don't be polite; just take them."

Kieu San San beamed at the mention of Anh Trach, clearly satisfied with the boyfriend she had stolen. Hearing there were gifts, the other roommates flocked around her.

"It's strange," Diep Phi remarked, "that dress was clearly bought to Lac Uong's measurements, yet it fits San San even better."

Giang Nhien chimed in, "Beautiful clothes depend on who wears them. Only someone with San San's aura could carry this off so perfectly."

Tran Mach Mach added, "Fate is strange. Perhaps the person and the dress were meant to belong to San San all along." They accepted the masks, showering Kieu San San with praise.

"San San, your husband is so thoughtful, he even thought of us."

"A wealthy man like Anh Trach deserves a beauty with the aura of our San San."

Diep Phi linked arms with her. "Bestie, once you marry into that wealthy family, you must keep an eye out for men in his circle for me."

Kieu San San tilted her chin, her eyes filled with unconcealed triumph. "That goes without saying. We’re all roommates; I’ve always shared good things. Unlike some people..." She glanced at me, a jab at the time she wanted to borrow the jewelry Anh Trach had given me, which I had refused.

She walked toward me, holding two boxes of masks. "Lac Uong, don't take this to heart. Fate intervened, and there was nothing I could do." She shoved the masks at me. "Everyone gets a share, you take these too. Just..." Kieu San San hesitated, then pointed at my jewelry box. "The jewelry my husband gave you earlier—you need to give it back to me. After all, he bought those for his girlfriend. You’ve held onto them for so long; it’s time they returned to the original owner."

I looked at the box, which held jewelry worth millions. I had never worn a single piece, keeping them sealed away. I had assumed that if things didn't work out, I would return them easily. As my mind went numb, my phone buzzed again. It was Ha Tinh: "Absolutely do not accept anything that skin-peeling demon gives you. You will die."

A surge of icy air rushed to the top of my head. I grabbed the jewelry box and shoved it violently into Kieu San San's arms. "Take it! It's all yours. I don't want it, I don't want any of it!"

***

I stumbled back a few steps. Seeing my reaction, Kieu San San was triumphant, yet her mouth remained sharp. "What do you mean 'giving it to me'? This was always mine. You’ve occupied the nest for months, did you really think you were the mistress of the house?"

I didn't argue, only offering a final warning. "Kieu San San, for the sake of us being roommates, I advise you to break up with Anh Trach immediately and return all of this."

Kieu San San laughed aloud. "Lac Uong, don't be so unreasonable. Anh Trach and I are in love at first sight; why should I break up? My husband giving me gifts is only natural—I don't need you pointing fingers here."

I grabbed her wrist, warning her, "I won't stop you if you want to court death, but Anh Trach is a skin-peeling demon, and that dress is a burial shroud. If you actually lose your life over this, don't blame me for not warning you."

At these words, not only Kieu San San but the other roommates looked at me with strange, judgmental eyes.

Diep Phi spoke up: "Lac Uong, you’re in the wrong here. Even if you were the one dating him online, he is San San’s boyfriend now. Be generous, don't be so petty."

Tran Mach Mach laughed as if she had heard the funniest thing in the world. "What did you say? A burial shroud? Ha! Lac Uong, go look in a mirror—your jealousy is written all over your face."

They were convinced I had gone mad with envy. They clutched the masks Kieu San San had gifted them as if they were gold, excitedly heading to the bathroom to wash their faces. I looked at the masks—the packaging was unusual, and there was a strange, sickly scent. I snapped a photo and sent it to Ha Tinh.

Ha Tinh replied instantly: "Those aren't facial masks. Those are clearly skin-peeling ointments."