Chapter 2

The young man and the older gentleman had both heard the furious words Jiang Xichu had let out, but they acted the same as if they hadn’t. The ghosts who wanted to crawl their way back to the human realm after dying were numerous; even if one succeeded, they would still have to crouch obediently outside to wait for registration, come in as quickly as possible and find a job they could provide for themselves with—it was what was proper. Being a person was hard, and being a ghost, well, that wasn’t easy either.

Jiang Xichu walked out to where that wretched young lady was crouching at the entrance, who would probably still have to wait a lot longer. Jiang Xichu crouched down next to her, and asked, “Do you know where the exit to return to the human realm is?”

The young lady blinked, and said, “Of course I know.” As she spoke, she pointed towards the distant light, which Jiang Xichu had assumed all along was the sun, because looking at it, it was quite similar to the sun; but, thinking about it again, this was the underworld, the nether realm—what sun was there? Jiang Xichu, expression that of sudden comprehension, stood up, but before long, her expression was once again one of fury, and she said, “I’m going over at once!”

The young lady’s gaze followed a departing Jiang Xichu, and the old man sitting at her side, upon seeing this, asked doubtfully, “Where’s she wanting to go?”

The young lady didn’t know either, and she guessed, “Probably she’s looking for the exit? Grandpa, didn’t you say that the exit was just like the sun? It looks like it’s close, but no matter how far you walk, you’ll never get to it.”

There was a path connecting the underworld and the human realm, but only an underworld official could go through that path, and ordinarily when people died, they would appear directly in the underworld, all without passing along the path. This was Jiang Xichu’s first time dying, and she didn’t have any experience, still believing that anyone could pass along this path; she walked along expectantly, and not long after, she really was able to pass along it. The moment she passed onto it, the underworld was no longer peaceful.

“Wu-wa, wu-wa, wu-wa—”

The young lady was silent: “...”

So, the alarms in the human realm and the underworld were the same.

Jiang Xichu hadn’t walked for long before she returned to the human realm, which at the moment was night; Jiang Xichu squinted, working to identify her surroundings, and found she was at the place where she’d had met disaster, which was also the office’s entrance. The victims had all been carried away, and the blood had been cleaned away; in barely half a month’s time, the place had returned to its usual appearance, and it was impossible to tell that this was where five lovely young women had lost their lives. For a moment, Jiang Xichu was dazed, but she quickly came back to herself, and, spitting with anger, hurried towards Chen Man’s home.

Chen Man lived close to the office, and she’d been to her house many times; this time wasn’t an exception either; she came to the entrance with ease, and was just about to press the doorbell when she remembered she had already died, so she didn’t need to press it—she could just pass through the wall. Jiang Xichu gave it a try, and found that she could, indeed, pass through the wall.

Ah…how fun!

Excited for a while , she played with it for a bit, and only with great difficulty remembered what she had come to do; her expression turned solemn, and she came to Chen Man’s room, and prepared like the horror films she’d seen in her childhood to scare Chen Man half to death, and then get her revenge on her.

After entering, she saw Chen Man silently sitting at the head of the bed, and it was only then she thought of something. She wasn’t a malicious spirit, so how was she supposed to scare a person?

…a ghost’s life really was challenging.

She paced around Chen Man’s bed twice, the other unaware and unknowing, still turning over the thing in her hands, and Jiang Xichu came back to her original spot, silent once again. Whatever, she’d already come; she’d curse at her a bit and then leave, and since she couldn’t hear anyway, she could still vent her ire. Jiang Xichu cleared her throat and pointed at Chen Man’s nose, about to open her mouth and berate her, but she’d just pointed at her when she was distracted. It seemed as if it wasn’t quite right. She hadn’t seen her in half a month—how did Chen Man lose so much weight? Her eyes were not only dark, but her eye sockets were sunken, and her complexion was sallow; she looked even more like a ghost than she did.

Jiang Xichu furrowed her brows and approached; Chen Man, herself, could only feel a feeble breeze blowing against her, but because it was too weak, it couldn’t arouse her attention; she was still slowly turning over the object in her hands. Jiang Xichu finally looked towards her hands, and, seeing it, was suddenly dazed.

They were all photos of her. There were selfies, and collective office photos, and even the photos of her high school exercise team, and odds and ends, which managed to fill a half a photo album entirely. With all the photos turned over, Jiang Xichu could find her own figure in every one of the photos, and after a while, she felt emotionally moved. Jiang Xichu let out a breath, and sat down next to Chen Man, saying, “Seeing you’ve made an album especially for me, I’m not mad at you anymore. Whatever, giving me that money wouldn’t have been any use; I’m already dead, so in the end it’s more convenient for others; you keep it, and use it yourself; donating it is fine, it’s all fine.” Jiang Xichu was deeply moved; these words she’d just said were as virtuous as the dying words in folk tales, and, anyway, she was already dead, so what was there to argue about?

From the time she’d died until now, Jiang Xichu hadn’t had any feelings at all; she was a straight-forward, unconcerned person, but suddenly, one day, she’d had an accident, and passed away; thinking of the people and matters she’d left behind in the world, there truly wasn’t a single thing that would make her feel uneasy. She already had cut off contact with her relatives, and her friends would mourn her for a short time, and once that time passed, everyone would once more continue happily with their lives; there wasn’t anyone who couldn’t let go of her, and there wasn’t anyone who couldn’t forget her, either.

Jiang Xichu had always thought very clearly, but, seeing Chen Man like this, her heart felt a bit upset; seeing her endlessly looking at photos of herself, occasionally pausing for a moment, Jiang Xichu wiped away a few sparkling tears, saying with emotion, “Ah…Manman, don't mourn for your elder in vain…”

Having said this, Jiang Xichu once more sat down at Chen Man’s side, and although Jiang Xichu couldn’t touch anything, if something were to pass through her, she would sense it. Perceiving that she’d sat down on something, she shifted suspiciously, and found that under her bottom was a classically made vase, not as big as a flower vase, or as fashionable, but rather having a solemn, heavy sense to it. Jiang Xichu commented silently that it seemed to have gone through a great many changes in time; it must have been an antique—and, not only that, she felt that this vase was somehow familiar, like something that would often be seen in a TV drama. Jiang Xichu was just recalling where she had seen this vase before when she saw Chen Man pick it up, holding it close to her chest, and say quietly, “You left behind a total of four-hundred seventy-two photos, yet of group photos with me, there’s only three. Jiang Xichu, was it that you truly hated me?”

Jiang Xichu was silent: “...”

Fuck!!

Jiang Xichu jumped a full metre, looking at Chen Man with alarm; what sort of situation was this!?! This vase was her urn?! Wasn’t she meant to be buried? How could it be on Chen Man’s bed?!?!

This was too confusing; for a long while, Jiang Xichu didn’t know what to say, and, on top of that, if that urn was hers…Then she was terrified, too!

Jiang Xichu gazed at Chen Man in bewilderment, and, once the other had finished speaking, she fell silent; she pressed her lips together, and after a long time, the corners of her lips rose; although it was a smile, her smile was even more unsightly than crying, and Jiang Xichu’s heart felt like it had been pinched; she furrowed her brows—it was as if from this smiling expression, she could sense a wretched heart, never rejoicing.

“Hating me doesn’t have any use; you already don’t have any way to tell me, and I’ll never be able to hear you say you hate me again.”

Two tears dripped onto the body of the vase with a patter, and only after pausing for a couple moments did Chen Man stretch out a hand and carefully wipe away those two teardrops. 

She remembered Jiang Xichu was someone who loved cleanliness; every day, she’d change out an entire set of clothes, and always carried two packs of napkins, since she didn’t know when she’d need them. When she’d gone on a business trip with Jiang Xichu, Chen Man had been regarded by her disdainfully for not being cleanly, but in fact, Chen Man was very cleanly, and Jiang Xichu was just a thorn that liked pricking her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Chen Man’s eyes were red, and she kept apologising over and over; once she’d admitted to her mistake, she grew dazed.

Who was she apologising for? Who could still hear her apologies?

Burning tears fell one after another, and this time, Chen Man didn’t manage to wipe them away; she just held the urn closer to her chest, at first crying soundlessly, then sobbing quietly, then, finally, shouting herself hoarse with her tears. Her fingertips pressed against the urn, and the veins in her fingers were about to burst; Jiang Xichu watched the scene blankly, and then, suddenly, she noticed that blood was seeping from the tips of Chen Man’s fingers. The strength she’d used was too great, and her fingernails, pressing against the patterns on the urn, had been unable to withstand it and torn.

Jiang Xichu startled, cried, “Chen Man, let go!”

Naturally, Chen Man couldn’t hear her voice, and she seemed unable to feel ordinary pain; only once she cried enough did she finally let up her strength, and after a while, she raised her hands, seeing the blood in the cracks of her nails. Jiang Xichu was pacing frantically next to her, and she said, “This is bullshit! Quick, clean the wounds, grab band-aids to staunch the blood! No, no, you need to go to the hospital, my goodness, you didn’t injure your nailbeds, did you? Are you stupid? This could all hurt you, you—” Old habits coming back, Jiang Xichu wanted to point at her nose and scold her a bit, and she’d just turned around to do so, when Jiang Xichu’s voice came to an abrupt stop.

Chen Man, staring blankly, had put her hands on her chest, and was using her strength to firmly tear off the lacerated nail. Her expression was ice-cold, and the instant she pulled it off, her complexion went as pale as paper; with this kind of pain in her fingers and her heart, she didn’t even let out a shout, just hurriedly panting a couple of times, and slowly passed the period of acute pain, and then she looked at her other fingers.

In total, three fingernails had torn, and so she’d pulled off three in total; she’d put the urn on her other side, guaranteeing that it wouldn’t be stained by blood, and she inspected her mangled fingers, her heart finally feeling a bit better. Having felt pain in her body, the pain in her heart would inversely lessen a bit.

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