As it turned out, dying wouldn’t stop suffering at all. Although she no longer had a sense of touch, or her five senses, or a heart that would shake in moments of sadness, she was still drowned by boundless pain, paralysing her with despair on the ground, wanting to cry and wail. But she didn’t have eyes, and couldn’t shed tears. Whether she banged on the door or shouted loudly, the world was forever filled with a terrible silence, and she could only watch blankly as Chen Man’s life, bit by bit, slowly seeped away. It was far too cruel; even more cruel than if she were murdered. On the verge of death, Chen Man heard some movement, and, with great difficulty, opened her eyes, seeming to see that person that she had yearned for day and night, still wearing the clothes she had when she’d left that day—that outfit that she’d gifted her, fairly expensive. When she had received it, she had scolded her heavily, saying she shouldn’t spend her money recklessly, but the next moment, she’d eagerl...

Chen Man sat, hunched, at the head of the bed; the moon rose outside, then set, and the blood between her fingers slowly oozed, then congealed; Chen Man, regardless of the changes in the world outside or her own body, seemed to be suspended in time, unmoving, unhurting, neither crying nor laughing.  Even being murdered, Jiang Xichu couldn’t have imagined Chen Man would become like this because of it. She was shocked, so much so that she overlooked an important matter: there wasn’t anyone who would become distraught because of the death of a close friend. Only someone who had lost their greatest love, their entire world, would act like this. For three days, Jiang Xichu remained at Chen Man’s side, not going anywhere, watching Chen Man’s unresponsive form; in those three days, she only ate twice: one container of yoghurt, the one that Jiang Xichu had bought for her, treating it as a snack, for her to drink at her leisure so she could get more nourishment, which had already expired; a...

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 abo...

Jiang Xichu’s chest rose and fell heavily, and she paced angrily around the office thrice; only then did she return to Chen Man’s desk, her hands pressing against the desk, fingers gripping the edge; she said, angrily, “How is it that you can’t understand what I’m saying? That piece of land can’t be invested in; ten years ago it was the site of a chemical plant’s draining pipe—if you were to buy that, you’d have to compensate an absurd amount!” Chen Man looked at her coldly, and said, “I already said I’m preparing to buy that piece of land; so what if it’s not good quality? I’m not wanting to grow farm crops on it!” “Then what are you preparing to do with it? I’m telling you, what can you even do with that land?!” Jiang Xichu glared; someone without knowledge would think that she was the General Manager; not to be outdone, Chen Man returned her glare, and after a long while, she let out a cold scoff, and said, “I’m not telling you.” Jiang Xichu choked on a mouthful of blood. Outside th...