Actually, getting a hold of Chu Anqing's hair wasn't difficult.
There were many opportunities from being around her all day, but just today, as luck would have it, I spotted some and took the chance—Lin Xian just took it straight back with him.
He found a plastic bag for small parts, about half the size of a bank card, and stuffed a few strands of Chu Anqing's hair into the plastic bag.
With both hands, he pinched it and swiped—sealing the self-sealing strip tight, locking the few strands of brown hair inside the plastic bag.
Holding a corner of the square plastic bag, Lin Xian shook it:
"A pile of things waiting for me to do, one less thing to handle each time, then I won't have to think about this matter anymore."
He had a sudden idea, looking at the electronic alarm clock labeled VV:
