Geisterreich

Kapitel 9

"Yes."

"when?"

"Just now."

When was 'just now'?

"Not long after you ran in."

"how long?"

"Two or three minutes, what happened?" he asked anxiously.

I didn't answer. This mechanical conversation had exhausted me, and I just stood there frozen at the window.

As expected, Meng Ling had already left the room.

But how did she leave?

I carefully recalled what had happened. From the moment she appeared at the bathroom window to when I returned to room 302, it couldn't have taken more than a minute. In that minute, I didn't see anyone run out of No. 6 Yunsheng Street. Meng Ling should still be in the room at that time. The bookstore owner also said that Meng Ling ran out two or three minutes after I ran into the stairwell. This means that when I was standing in room 302, Meng Ling was running downhill. If that's the case, the only possibility is that before I even crossed the road, Meng Ling had already seen me and quickly ran to the rooftop to hide...

But I didn't hear any footsteps—I had been on high alert the whole time, but I hadn't heard Meng Ling run downstairs. I quickly went to the door, laboriously moved the sofa again, and tried to check the situation on the rooftop.

A flash of dazzling red caught my eye and stunned me.

On one corner of the sofa, a nail protruded from its sharp point, which was stained red. More red liquid remained on the sofa back and the floor around it. It seemed that I had accidentally cut my hand on the nail while moving the sofa. I subconsciously examined my hands—sure enough, both hands were stained with blood, but I didn't feel any pain. I quickly realized that this blood wasn't from my own hands.

No part of my body was injured.

The blood was still wet, clearly having just dripped down recently.

Is it Meng Ling's blood? The thought sent a chill down my spine. Even though I knew Meng Ling was a real person, the bloodstains still made me think of certain things.

Why didn't I see the bloodstains when I came in? I tried hard to recall what happened when I came in. No, there were no bloodstains then, no bloodstains anywhere. I was almost certain of that, but I quickly dismissed the idea—there must have been bloodstains, I just didn't notice them.

After finally managing to drag the sofa aside and open the door, I could see small, round drops of blood leading towards the stairwell. I went back inside to get a flashlight and carefully examined the ground, from the rooftop all the way to the main entrance of No. 6 Yunsheng Street. From the door of room 302 all the way down to the street below, and even further afield, the small, round drops of blood resembled tiny flowers blooming along the way, forming a winding line without any breaks. However, on the rooftop, and along the path from the rooftop to the stairwell, I found not a single drop of blood.

This situation is really hard for me to understand. If Meng Ling was injured in the room and hid on the rooftop, then judging from the amount of bleeding, there should have been bloodstains on that short stretch of road leading to the rooftop—but there was nothing there. If we simply infer from the distribution of the bloodstains, Meng Ling should have run out of room 302 immediately after being injured in the room and went straight downstairs.

But if it's the latter, why didn't I see her?

I slowly climbed the stairs, lost in thought. As I passed the second floor, room 202 emitted its usual dim green light, with a slightly ajar opening leading to the hallway. A thought flashed through my mind—could Meng Ling have run here to hide? I shone my flashlight in, but the area in front of room 202 was spotless, without any trace of blood. It seemed I was wrong. I returned to my room, dejected.

What's the secret behind this? Is Meng Ling really that amazing, able to think of a way to leave No. 6 Yunsheng Street in the instant after being injured? No, I slowly shook my head, and the image of Xu Xiaobing appeared in my mind. Xu Xiaobing doesn't have such a high IQ. If birds of a feather flock together, Meng Ling wouldn't have such quick wit either.

How exactly should we explain this?

As I tidied up the room I had ransacked, I pondered deeply. Several times, my gaze fell upon the pool of blood by the door, and goosebumps involuntarily rose on my skin. In truth, there was another explanation in my heart, but I simply chose not to voice it.

I forced myself to push those thoughts, which I couldn't even accept myself, out of my mind and focused on cleaning the room. As I tried to wipe away the bloodstains with laundry detergent, I felt like a murderer destroying a crime scene.

After tidying up the rest of the room, I sat there lost in thought. After all that hustle and bustle, I felt utterly exhausted. The events of the day flashed through my mind—when did my life become so complicated? It was truly a headache. The surroundings became quiet again. I wondered if the bookstore owner was still peering out onto the street. Oh, he must have left. He stayed on this street to watch Meng Ling from afar; now that she was gone, he should be back in his bookstore. I suddenly realized clearly that I was the only one left in this house this time.

This is the first time I've been alone in room 302 at No. 6 Yunsheng Street.

The kitchen on the left was empty, and the water pipes in the toilet kept making strange whistling noises. The living room window was open, and a damp wind blew in from it. A box of napkins on the coffee table fluttered like white wings. From the TV screen directly in front of me, I could see the living room door behind me. In the dim screen, there was a person, a sofa, and a door. This scene was almost a classic shot in a horror movie. I subconsciously moved my body to avoid the TV screen.

To my right were three open doors, each with a light on, as if someone were in each room. From Meng Ling’s room came the sound of papers turning over. I thought it was the wind—it definitely was the wind—but the more I listened, the more frightened I became.

It turns out I wasn't as daring as I thought.

I felt I needed to talk to someone, so I took out my phone, intending to dial home, but then stopped myself. Calling home at this time wouldn't be in line with our usual communication habits. My mother is a sensitive person; she would definitely think something had happened to me here and be incredibly worried.

After much thought, I realized that in Nancheng, only Jia Yun and Li Yuntong could help me with my current situation. Li Yuntong already knew most of the details, so I didn't need to explain much; he would understand. So, I dialed Li Yuntong's number. He was at the hospital taking care of his feverish child. Before I could even speak, his first words were, "What's Xu Xiaobing up to now?" This touched me deeply, and I quickly told him what had happened. He listened silently, and after I finished, he said, "Oh, I see."

"Hmm." I nodded vigorously. "How do you think she managed to run away without me seeing her?"

“Maybe she’s hiding in someone else’s house,” Li Yuntong said.

"How do you explain the bloodstains? The bloodstains lead directly downstairs."

"If you cut your hand with a nail, cover it with a handkerchief or something, and the blood won't drip—did you see the bloodstains when you came in?"

I recalled the scene when I entered the room, and was about to say I didn't know, but then I stopped abruptly—no, there was no blood when I entered. My and Xu Xiaobing's slippers, along with other shoes, were by the door, and the floor near the door was completely covered in shoes. I had kicked those shoes aside to move the sofa to the door. If there had been blood on the floor when I entered, there would certainly have been blood on the shoes too, but I didn't find any blood on the shoes while cleaning the room—and why didn't I think of that sooner? The most blood was by the door, and Meng Ling's hand was injured on a nail on the sofa—this meant that when Meng Ling injured her hand, the sofa was already by the door… A chill ran through me—if that's the case, why didn't I see Meng Ling?

After listening to what I said, Li Yuntong remained silent for a long time before finally saying slowly, "Perhaps... it's not that you didn't see her, but that you simply couldn't see her..."

"What!" I didn't understand what he said.

“Hmm,” Li Yuntong said seriously, “think about the woman we found in Liufang Lake.”

"What's wrong?" He suddenly changed the subject to the woman from Liufang Lake, leaving me momentarily confused.

Why am I the only one who can see that woman?

"Yes, why?" I said blankly. "Perhaps she was out of our sight at the time?"

Li Yuntong let out a quiet laugh, which I found somewhat strange. He continued quietly, "Is that so? Jiang Ling, you always like to find reasonable explanations for unreasonable things—can't you think that some unreasonable explanations are actually correct?"

"Huh?" I didn't know how to answer.

“It wasn’t just that woman,” Li Yuntong said, “I saw another person at the hospital, and I was the only one who saw them…”

"No way?" Goosebumps suddenly appeared on my skin, but I couldn't help but want to hear more. "Are you seeing a ghost?"

“I don’t know,” Li Yuntong said.

11

Li Yuntong's son was in the third pediatric ward. There were three beds in the room. When Li Yuntong entered, his son was discussing a cartoon with the young patient in the next bed. On the bed near the window, a boy in a hospital gown was sitting cross-legged, playing with a disposable syringe, drawing water from a stainless steel cup. Li Yuntong's wife rushed off to work when she saw him. His son was engrossed in his conversation with the chubby boy in the next bed and didn't pay attention to Li Yuntong. Feeling bored, he could only watch the boy playing with the syringe. The boy kept drawing water into the syringe and then squeezing it out, repeating this monotonous process as if he were endlessly entertained. After watching for a while, Li Yuntong noticed that the syringe had been used; there were traces of blood on the barrel. He felt it was unsafe for a child to play with such a syringe, so he went over and said to the child, "Little friend, this thing isn't clean. Don't play with it, okay?"

He thought he had spoken very gently, and based on my understanding of him, he wasn't a rude person. However, after he said those words, the boy seemed greatly frightened, suddenly raising his head to look at him, then leaping backward until his entire back pressed against the wall. Li Yuntong was startled by his reaction and quickly explained, "Don't be afraid, Uncle will throw this away for you." He picked up the syringe the boy had thrown into the cup, and was about to toss it into the wastebasket next to him when the boy suddenly let out a strange cry, lunged at him, snatched the syringe from his hand, and hugged it tightly to his chest, trembling all over. His beady eyes stared at Li Yuntong as if he had seen the most terrifying thing in the world.

Seeing the child's strange reaction, Li Yuntong was a little frightened. He quickly comforted him for a moment and then returned to his son's bed. He noticed that his son and the chubby boy in the next bed were covering their mouths and giggling at him, so he asked, "What are you laughing at?"

The two children shook their heads simultaneously, exchanged a glance, and continued to smile slyly. Li Yuntong shook his head helplessly, then looked at the boy by the window, who was still watching him warily, clutching the dirty syringe to his chest like a precious treasure. By the time Li Yuntong got to this point, I already guessed what he would do next; knowing his personality, he definitely wouldn't let this matter rest.

Just as I expected, Li Yuntong felt she couldn't let the child continue playing with such a dirty syringe, so she rang the call bell for a nurse. When the nurse arrived, Li Yuntong told her about the child in the third bed, but before she could finish, the nurse's expression changed.

"What did you say?" the nurse said. "Which child?"

“Him?” Li Yuntong pointed to the third bed. The child noticed that Li Yuntong was talking to the nurse about him and was listening intently with wide eyes.

"Who?" The nurse glanced back at the bed by the window, then quickly turned back, asking nervously, "The one outside the window?"

"What are you talking about?" Li Yuntong asked impatiently, seeing that the nurse seemed to be pretending to be stupid. "I'm talking about him, the child sitting on bed number three."

The nurse quickly turned around and looked again, then whispered to Li Yuntong's son and the chubby boy, "Did you see the person on that bed?"

"Who's there?" The two children looked at them, puzzled. "There's no one on that bed."

Li Yuntong glanced at the two children, then at the nurse. Before he could say anything, the nurse nudged his arm, signaling him to come out with her.

The two went outside, and the nurse told Li Yuntong that bed number three hadn't been occupied for a month; the last child to die in that bed had died from a lung infection. As she said this, the nurse's expression was complex, seemingly a mixture of doubt and fear. After speaking, she asked, "Did you really see a child?"

Li Yuntong nodded. He peeked into the ward and saw the child still sitting on the bed, fiddling with a syringe. Some of the remaining blood clots in the syringe had been squeezed onto the sheets. He initially thought that this might be a child from another ward, but then he realized that even if it was, the nurses and the two children should have been able to see it.

"What does he look like?" the nurse asked eagerly.

Li Yuntong described the child's appearance, and the nurse's face became even more unpleasant. She pulled Li Yuntong further away from the ward door and whispered, "Isn't this the child you're talking about who died just a month ago?"

Upon hearing this, both the nurse and Li Yuntong shuddered. Li Yuntong immediately recalled the woman he had seen in Liufang Lake. When that woman was still alive, no one except him could see her, and when others finally saw her, she was already a corpse.

"No way? This is so weird?" Li Yuntong murmured.

The nurse murmured, "Anything can happen in a hospital." She thought for a moment, then quickly wrote a few words and handed them to Li Yuntong: "Look, this is the address of the child who died a month ago. You can go and take a look if you're interested."

"Why would I go see that?" Li Yuntong asked, both amused and exasperated.

"It's up to you," the nurse said, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear. "At least you should find out if that child is actually Xiang Hu."

"Xiang Hu?"

"It's about the child who died a month ago." The nurse said and hurried away, but turned back halfway. "Give me your phone number."

What?

“I’d like to know what happened too,” the nurse said. “A girl saw him a few days ago.”

"Huh? What happened?"

Just as the nurse was about to recount what had happened a few days ago, someone in the distance called out loudly, "Feng Nan!" The nurse responded, quickly wrote down his phone number, and then ran off, shouting back as she ran, "I'll call you later!"

Li Yuntong stood blankly in the corridor for a long time, thinking more and more that he might be seeing a ghost. The faces of the woman from Liufang Lake and the child from earlier appeared intertwined in his mind. He suddenly remembered that his son was still in the same ward as that "Xiang Hu". He was jolted and rushed into the ward.

When he entered the ward, the third bed was empty, with only a drop of blood still wet on the sheet indicating that there had indeed been a child there.

"Do you think I saw a ghost?" Li Yuntong asked me after I finished telling the story.

I was speechless. The sky seemed to grow even darker, and the wind that rushed in through the open window carried a bone-chilling cold. I sat alone on the sofa, and upon hearing this story, I couldn't help but turn around and look.

"Are you telling the truth or lying?" I asked.

“Of course it’s true. As soon as you mentioned it to me, that’s what came to mind,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you, afraid you’d be scared, but… it’s better if you know for yourself to be on guard…”

"You mean, Meng Ling..." I looked back again, the door behind me was tightly closed, and I lowered my voice, "Meng Ling is... just like Xiang Hu?" In the end, I still didn't dare to say the word "ghost".

"Hmm." Li Yuntong's voice sounded very nervous. "You'd better move out quickly, and tell Xu Xiaobing to move out too—I'll find you a place as soon as possible."

However, I thought of an even more terrifying problem. Just thinking about it made me feel like my body was turning into an icicle. If there were a mirror in front of me, I would definitely see myself looking "pale as a ghost".

"Do you think Xu Xiaobing might be that kind of person?" I asked through trembling teeth.

"No way..." Li Yuntong hissed through gritted teeth, and even through the microphone, one could feel the chill emanating from him. "Don't think like that, just move out already."

The more I thought about it, the more terrified I became. I asked repeatedly, "Where are you? You should go to Xiang Hu's house and take a look. Maybe he's not Xiang Hu?"

“I don’t plan to go see him,” Li Yuntong said. “We’ll go home once my son’s fever breaks, and I don’t intend to get involved in this matter.”

"Huh?" I gasped. "Even someone as nosy as you isn't going to do anything about it? That must be really scary."

"It's pretty scary. Don't stay there tonight. Okay, my son's calling me. I'm hanging up now." Li Yuntong hung up the phone hastily.

Silence returned to the room, and I felt I couldn't linger in it for even a minute longer. Li Yuntong's phone call had turned me into a complete coward. I hurriedly closed all the windows, locked my bedroom door, and went out again.

Yes, most of the time I'm very brave, but if I get scared out of my wits, I become a coward—I feel like I'm scared out of my wits right now.

I didn't know where I was going; I just wanted to leave room 302. At this moment, that room triggered too many thoughts in me. However, the darkness in the hallway was even more evocative of ghosts and spirits than room 302. I practically ran downstairs. Passing the second floor, room 202 still emitted a faint green light—everything here was so strange, even the people living here were strange. Room 202 was always left slightly ajar, letting in green light, yet I never saw anyone go in or out; the other rooms were the same. This three-story building seemed to have no other tenants besides Xu Xiaobing and me, yet at midnight or early morning, I could always hear them walking on the stairs… Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, let's get out of here first and then think about these things! I stumbled downstairs, and the depressing scenery of Yun Sheng Street came into view—and it wasn't just number six Yun Sheng Street that was strange. The entire Yunsheng Street appeared unusually old, exuding a slow and deliberate atmosphere. Even the pedestrians walked with unusually slow steps. In the misty drizzle, Yunsheng Street at dusk seemed to come from the depths of ancient times.

Perhaps the whole world looks a little strange in this rain and fog. I comforted myself, looking up at the sky. The sky was gray, almost black, and in two or three hours it would be completely dark. I felt that leaving No. 6 Yunsheng Street couldn't dispel the fear that welled up from the bottom of my heart.

I must leave this old, aging street.