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...

Just as the words fell, Tu Laoyao was abruptly roused, his hands tightly grasping the armrests to the left and the right, and he cautiously gazed at either side, and said, “It, it’s like the painting again?” Song Shijiu let out a couple of sighs, and once Li Shiyi had been sighed awake, she raised a hand and rubbed her forehead, her voice remaining hoarse as she said, “Say it, then.” Her voice was soft like a young bird’s shed down, eliciting a soft tickle in the bottom tip of one’s heart, like those days she’d eaten and slept with her, when Song Shijiu had always wanted to curl in the crook of her arm, ears perked to hear the sound of her still not fully awake voice. Song Shijiu said in a secretive manner, “I’m quite terrific; indeed, I can slow down the effects of growth.” In the period of speech, the passengers inside the hold woke up one after another, some of them carrying their mugs and heading outside to brush their teeth, some of them wearing slippers to go look for a place to...

Saying the road was slow would make it slow, and saying it was quick would make it quick, but after a few days, they arrived at Shanzhou dock. The sky was like a jade as clear as a body of water, and the clouds crowded together, low in the sky, hanging around the alternating white and red steamships, masts erect, the canvases making rustling sounds as they were blown by the wind, the water eaten up by the boats one swallow at a time, the swaying extremely pleasing to see. Only upon walking closer would one realise that the steamboats were as tall as two storey buildings, like massive monsters, cast iron steps extending from the ships to the shore, like a long tongue admitting all kinds of travellers. The milky white leather high heels trod upon the ground, pressing close against the fair, pale skin of the instep of the foot, a hand enclosed in a lace glove supporting itself on the railing, tapping as if playing a piano, an apricot-coloured Western-style dress wrapped around a full wais...

As they were about the set off the next day, Li Shiyi and the others considered the route closely: taking a train from Beiping towards Zhengzhou, then heading west from Zhengzhou to Shanzhou, and in Shanzhou switching to a steamship to Tongguan, and after disembarking, taking a car to Xi’an. Li Shiyi briefly calculated it: the route, in actuality, would take six or seven days. In the descending nightfall, with the sounds of the watchmen’s clappers, Tu Laoyao came across trouble; having only just boasted about following her through wind and rain, he thought about his wife at home and felt a little bit anxious. A Yin said, “The trip is to a distance; are you coming or not?” With a manly voice, Tu Laoyao replied through clenched teeth with a single word worth nine sacred tripods: [1] “I’ll go.” Li Shiyi cast a glance at him, and, in agreement, said, “A Chun’s gift of the residence, I’ve accepted; the state of it is good, and the structure is well-ventilated, and all of the furniture and ...

“I’ll go with A Yin. But,” Li Shiyi glanced at Song Shijiu, “only after two days.” With Song Shijiu’s state of growth, she’d be an adult in only a few days, but her figure wouldn’t undergo too large a change, and she wouldn’t have to prepare as many clothes. But Song Shijiu shot her an anxious look, lowering her head, aggrieved. Li Shiyi, not understanding, looked at her, and she curled her fingers into a fist and hit the back of Li Shiyi’s hand, still not speaking. Only after seeing A Chun off, and exchanging a few sentences with A Yin, did Li Shiyi finally lead Song Shijiu back home. Song Shijiu, in a rare form, didn’t clamour about being led, only silently shuffling her shoes from behind, carefully pushing the toes as she walked. Li Shiyi turned to look at her, and she wanted to speak but hesitated; Song Shijiu said in a quiet voice, “Don’t you want to say that I’m big now and don’t need to be led?” Li Shiyi was astonished, and her brows rose for a good few minutes without falling, ...