Transmigrierte Kaiserinnen (männlich und weiblich)

Kapitel 11

"This incident caused quite a stir. Customers all thought my place was haunted and refused to come back. The staff couldn't stay any longer either." A hint of melancholy flickered in Xiuzi's beautiful eyes.

"So, are there really ghosts?" Song Xiaomo asked in a relaxed tone.

She looked at him noncommittally.

As dusk fell and the antique shop grew darker, Song Xiaomo noticed that Xiuzi's face was as pale as a corpse. He immediately felt nauseous, so he pretended to be calm and said, "I need to go to the restroom."

“Over there, come with me.” Hideko led him to an inner room.

As Song Xiaomo passed through a deep, quiet corridor, she noticed an oil painting hanging on the wall. The painting depicted a beautiful young woman sitting by a stream. Her long, slender legs swayed in the water like water plants. Her pure, clear eyes radiated a captivating beauty. A gentle curve appeared at the corner of her slightly red lips… a beauty that rendered all embellishing words and phrases powerless.

Song Xiaomo was so engrossed in watching it that she became somewhat mesmerized.

"Is it pretty?" Hideko asked.

He paused for a moment, and then ripples spread outwards, wave after wave, layer upon layer.

"But this is not for sale; it was painted by a friend of mine."

"What about your friend? Could you ask him to draw another one? Just this girl, exactly the same one, please?" Song Xiaomo pleaded.

Hideko's expression turned strange, and she whispered, "It's too late, they're all dead."

Song Xiaomo shivered, feeling a strange smell filling his nostrils. Was it the smell of rotting corpses? He tried to calm himself down and forced himself to move forward. Perhaps it was the knowledge that people had died here that gave him this chilly feeling.

"The restroom is around that corner, you can go by yourself. I'm going out to attend to my business now," Xiuzi said.

"OK, thanks."

The bathroom was large, with a huge glass mirror hanging on the white wall in the middle. Song Xiaomo turned on the tap and found the water was ice-cold. He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and began to wash his face.

Suddenly, he heard a faint sound. His heart started racing again, and he turned around sharply, but saw nothing. Just as his gaze returned to the huge mirror, he saw a woman's face flash by in the reflection, the face fleeting in the dim light.

Waves of fear sent chills down his spine. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out. In the mirror, he saw his terrified reflection.

Who is that woman? After a moment of blankness, Song Xiaomo wondered doubtfully, "Didn't Xiuzi say that there was no one else here besides her? Did I just see things?"

After washing his face, he left the bathroom. Passing through the corridor again, he couldn't help but stop and glance at the oil painting a few more times. Yes, as others had said, the girl in the painting was beautiful.

Song Xiaomo couldn't help but raise his hand and touch the painting. He couldn't quite describe the feeling; it was as if he had touched a piece of ice, the skin of a beautiful, dead girl. He suddenly felt a chill.

Just as he put his hand down, he was very surprised to see a line of small black characters in the lower right corner of the oil painting: "Work by Kim In-hyun".

It turns out that Xiuzi is Kim In-hyun's friend. If this oil painting is indeed by Kim In-hyun, then the girl in the painting must be Shin Mi-hyun. Song Xiaomo was quite shocked.

Just then, some faint sounds came from the bathroom behind him. It was vaguely like someone walking in high heels, the soles scraping against the floor. Because of the unusual silence around him, the sound startled him again. He nervously turned his head and saw a dark shadow. But in the blink of an eye, it vanished without a trace.

Ghostly figure?

"Who is it?" Song Xiaomo asked hurriedly.

No one answered. The air seemed to freeze.

This is so strange. He clearly heard Xiuzi say that there was no one else here. Why would Xiuzi lie? Song Xiaomo became more and more curious and actually followed the direction of the sound. Logically speaking, he should have stayed far away, but why did he insist on going in? His legs seemed to be out of his control.

On the side of the bathroom, there was a small door. A pair of red high heels were placed in the doorway.

He took a deep breath and carefully turned the small door. A pungent smell hit him, and he quickly covered his nose. In the dim light, he opened his eyes wide…

There was a bathtub in the corner of the room. The bathtub lay there like a coffin, covered with a white sheet. Cold air rose eerily from under the white sheet, quickly seeping into his body.

He walked over step by step, his heart pounding, and lifted the white cloth...

In an instant, a naked, strange woman appeared in his sight. She lay there motionless, her tongue protruding straight from her open, stiff mouth, her eyes wide and bulging, like someone suddenly screaming in extreme terror. And her eyes didn't blink; she was clearly dead.

Song Xiaomo felt a buzzing in her head, turned around and ran towards the door, slamming her head hard against the wall.

He suddenly remembered the female employee Xiuzi had mentioned who had died. Could it be her? The source of the pungent smell was clearly formaldehyde. A woman's corpse was found soaking in a restroom—it was utterly terrifying. Then, whose face was that in the mirror earlier, and whose footsteps were those?

After a frantic run, Song Xiaomo finally reached the counter, his shirt soaked with cold sweat. He wiped his forehead and discovered he was bleeding.

Hideko was standing under the eaves, gently stroking a teru teru bozu (a Japanese doll made of teru teru bozu). It looked as if she were talking to a head.

"How did you get hurt?" Hideko asked with a worried look.

"Oh, it's nothing. I just bumped into the wall by accident. It's just a minor injury, nothing serious," Song Xiaomo replied casually.

"You're lying!" Hideko stared straight into his eyes and asked softly, "Did she hurt you?"

"who is she?"

This time, Hideko didn't answer; she just stared at him blankly.

Song Xiaomo quickly turned his head away, no longer looking into Xiuzi's eyes. There was an unfathomable chill in Xiuzi's eyes that sent shivers down his spine. He dared not stay any longer; he was afraid he would lose control.

"Alright, it's getting late, I should go."

"Yes, welcome back next time." Hideko bowed politely.

"Goodbye." Song Xiaomo turned around, then turned back and said, "I hope these teru teru bozu dolls will bless you."

"No, they are ghost dolls!"

Chapter 54: The Ghost Doll Returns (54)

(17)

As he walked out of Huiwen Street, night had fallen, and the streetlights were gradually coming on. Cars sped along the road like a flowing river. Song Xiaomo walked on, lost in thought about the strange and chaotic events, almost running a red light at one intersection. He glanced at his watch; it was 7:30 PM. After a moment's thought, he decided to go to the cafeteria for dinner first, then return to his dorm to retrieve the box, and finally head to the coffee shop called "Home Alone."

There's an overpass on the road leading to the campus, and the dazzling headlights of cars flash by like fireflies. Song Xiaomo walked along the roadside to the highest point and gazed into the distance.

The night breeze rustled gently, making a rhythmic "whoosh" sound that mingled with the noise of traffic. Song Xiaomo suddenly felt a strange dizziness; everything around him seemed to be spinning and blurring. The overpass wasn't very high, and he wasn't afraid of heights. Why was this happening?

Suddenly, a woman in white appeared under the overpass. Under the bright lights, her red high heels stood out starkly. Song Xiaomo's heart skipped a beat; she suddenly remembered the pair of red high heels in the antique shop. Could it be her?

The woman tilted her head back, the wind ruffling her long hair and obscuring her eyes, her deathly pale face appearing and disappearing in the shadows. Behind her stood a billboard taller than a person, emitting a pale, bone-white arc of light that seemed to emanate from it, making it appear like a gravestone in a cemetery. A moment later, she stretched out her bloodless hand and waved towards the overpass…

"No, she didn't summon me!" Song Xiaomo's heart pounded, and he took a big step back. He felt a chilling despair, and his vision blurred.

What does it mean when a dead person beckons to a living person?

Just then, he instinctively felt a powerful gust of wind approaching from the side. A tremendous sense of fear quickly swept through his body. Before he could react, a long, dark shadow flashed up and fiercely tackled him to the ground not far away. All his joints felt like they were about to shatter, and a cloud of gray dust filled his nostrils.

He endured the stinging pain all over his body as he got up from the ground. Composing himself, he saw a silver BMW motorcycle whizzing past him. The motorcycle seemed driverless, speeding sideways. The driver was probably another reckless young man who had been drinking and recklessly racing.

Song Xiaomo immediately realized that he had been saved; otherwise, he would have been hit by the motorcycle long ago. He turned his head and looked gratefully at the kind person lying next to him.

"It's you?" Upon seeing those eyes, Song Xiaomo was immediately stunned. "Li Zhengzhen!"

Li Zhengzhen slowly stood up from the ground, remaining silent and staring intently at the departing motorcycle. Then, he uttered a mumbled question: "Is he dead?"

Chapter 55: The Ghost Doll Returns (55)

Song Xiaomo was completely bewildered and didn't ask any further questions. After all, this man had some mental issues, and many of his actions were incomprehensible to ordinary people. He noticed some dark bruises on Li Zhengzhen's arm, undoubtedly marks from the fall when he rescued him. He never expected this strange man to save him from danger at this crucial moment. Before this, he had suspected him of being the murderer who cut off other people's heads and had even considered calling the police. But now? He preferred to believe he was a kind person.

"Thank you for saving me," Song Xiaomo said sincerely.

Lee Jung-jin nodded, his gaze remaining cold and unapproachable.

"How did you end up here?" Song Xiaomo asked again.

"Xiaoyou asked me to come here."

"Xiao You?" Song Xiaomo looked into his eyes and felt that this person was too unpredictable, so she tentatively asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a shy smile appeared on Lee Jung-jin's lips, a smile that was clearly one of happiness. In the blink of an eye, his expression changed completely, appearing extremely incongruous with his pale face.

Song Xiaomo smiled and said, "I understand. Please give her my regards when you see her."

"I will."

"I'm going back now. When Xiaoyou arrives, you two must have a lot of fun."

“Okay.” Lee Jung-jin’s gaze darted around.

Song Xiaomo exchanged a few more polite words, then turned around. The instant he took off, he heard a series of piercing police sirens behind him. He paid no attention to them, turned up his collar, and headed towards the dormitory.

Along the way, he glanced down at the overpass several times. But the woman under the billboard had vanished like a ghost.

Is she a ghost, or just a hallucination?

He looked up at the sky blankly. A dazzling shooting star streaked across the dark sky...

(18)

Will I be next?

Since this morning, Cui Zhenyang has been repeating this sentence in his mind.

Around 9 a.m., he prepared to ride his beloved K1200R motorcycle, a "BMW" of art, to work at HY University, as usual. He was 34 years old, single, and a university teacher specializing in painting. He loved his job and was always punctual, never late for class. His students all liked him. But today, he was unexpectedly late. His BMW motorcycle stalled on the overpass.

He was a huge motorcycle enthusiast, not only highly skilled at riding but also an expert in repairs. After the engine stalled, he carefully inspected all the parts on the motorcycle but couldn't find any solution. The motorcycle was perfectly fine, so why did it stall?

Just as he was racking his brains trying to figure it out, a black Buick sedan drove past him. Through the car window, he was shocked to see a familiar face appear inside the car.

Is it her? The girl who died more than two years ago...

Chapter 56: The Ghost Doll Returns (56)

The black Buick sedan turned a corner on the overpass and quickly disappeared. But the girl's face remained etched in Cui Zhenyang's mind. She was one of his best students; how could he possibly mistake her? Yet, wasn't she already dead?

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and cold sweat was pouring from his pores.

After a long while, he finally managed to stop himself from overthinking. He comforted himself, telling himself that it was just a girl who looked similar. Few people believe in ghosts, and Cui Zhenyang was no exception.

Strangely, when he pressed the accelerator again, the motorcycle suddenly roared to life. For some reason, he suddenly felt something was wrong, a strange unease running through his body. The motorcycle seemed to float, almost impossible to control. And the vast expanses of buildings and sycamore trees rushing past on both sides seemed to sway wildly, like demons dancing in disarray.

"What's going on? Is this some kind of ghost?" Cui Zhenyang muttered to himself. His consciousness began to drift into chaos, as if he couldn't accept this reality.

Suddenly, a child holding a red umbrella appeared in front of his motorcycle.

He screamed in surprise and slammed on the brakes. The sharp screeching of the wheels against the ground was particularly piercing. Then, with a dull thud, he was thrown off the motorcycle and slid several meters away.

"Quick, quick, save them!" He shouted to the pedestrians on the roadside, ignoring his own pain.

Several passersby gathered around, watching the scene with curiosity.

"Sir, what happened?" A middle-aged man stepped forward and helped him up.

"I...I hit someone. That child...the child...the red umbrella..." He spoke incoherently.

The middle-aged man looked around in confusion and said, "No! You must be mistaken."

"What is he saying?" someone else chimed in.

"I... I think I hit a child with my car. He was holding a red umbrella," Cui Zhenyang said, panting.

"The red umbrella?" An old man approached and said gravely, "Don't joke around, this happened a few days ago. It rained that night, right here, a car ran over a child who was crossing the road with a red umbrella..."