The Ghost Lips' Unforgettable Kiss

Chapter 4

Chapter Nine: Who's Operating the Elevator?

When I hurriedly used the key to open the cabinet containing the painting, I immediately sat down on the floor. There was no ancient painting at all. Inside were nine naked little girls, covered in blood, huddled together, staring at us with wide, crying eyes!

Where did these children come from? I tried to run away, but they all crawled out from behind the cabinet. They all had a small double dragon mark on their bottoms and wore embroidered little shoes. I was terrified. Where would so many children come from in the middle of the night? Could it be...?

I looked closely and almost fainted. The oldest child was the youngest daughter of Prince Duan, who had died two years prior. I had seen her fall into the well and drown. Looking closer, I also saw a girl I recognized—the illegitimate child of a palace maid and a prince—who, after being discovered, was buried alive at the age of two by the head eunuch, Xiao Dezhang. These children were ghost babies!

I was so frightened that I fell into Wu Ying's arms. He was also terrified, but not to the point of collapsing. We watched helplessly as the children ran out, turning back to look at us, their little mouths open in smiles, revealing broken, blackened teeth. Two of the children's stomachs were empty! Their ribs were flaring, dripping with blood!

I didn't know what the consequences of opening the cabinet would be. The ghostly infants ran out laughing and disappeared into the outer wall of the hall. It took us a long time to recover from the shock. We looked at the cabinet again, hoping to find the "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" scroll, but there was still nothing there, only a bronze mirror.

Unable to see the original, we decided to take the fake. We secretly retrieved the forgery, "Along the River During the Qingming Festival," and hurriedly returned. Near the Chuxiu Palace, I was almost lifeless; Qin Wuying carried me back. I was very ill, and Qin Wuying wept beside me. In my feverish delirium, I once picked up a mirror and looked at my face under the palace lanterns. I discovered a painting inside—"Along the River During the Qingming Festival"! I thought I was delirious, so I looked again, and sure enough, the painting was in the mirror! But after a moment of joy, I was terrified and threw the mirror away, because it wasn't hidden inside, but merely an image.

I exclaimed in surprise and called to Qin Wu to look. He picked it up and was so frightened that he sat down on the ground. He said that it was himself inside, but his head and neck were separated! It was a bloody mess. He was terrified and collapsed to the ground.

The next day, Qin Wuying presented the fake "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" to the Emperor on my behalf and never returned. I waited for him, lying in bed. In the afternoon, all the eunuchs and palace maids were expelled from the palace. Qin Wuying was supposed to come to see me, but he didn't. I missed him terribly, so I went to the Wuying Hall again, hoping that the Emperor had sent him to retrieve the painting. But in the empty courtyard, there was nothing but withered grass. Just as I was leaving, behind the door of the main hall, I found his body. His head was separated from his body, lying against the wall. He had died mysteriously like that. The mirror's reflection of his death had come true, and my last hope was shattered.

I didn't want to escape. The warlords had already sealed off the Forbidden City. I heard on the way that more than a dozen palace maids who refused to leave had been gang-raped by the Beiyang Army and then committed suicide by jumping into a well. At this point, I didn't want to live either, but I absolutely couldn't fall into their hands.

I am about to die, so before it gets dark, I took a brush from the hall and wrote these words on the curtain of the Wuying Hall. I then hid them in the mirror. If future generations obtain this mirror and the silk, I hope they can find the lost "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" scroll. I will then be at peace in the afterlife.

How I long for the peaceful and prosperous world depicted in "Along the River During the Qingming Festival"! Now I see that painting again. Look, a red sedan chair is waiting for me! Look, there are so many embroidered shoes in the shoe shop! And red makeup, is it for my journey to heaven...? Look, the emperor has sent another imperial edict, with the double dragon jade seal, and so many beautiful women. Why are they covering their faces? What are they doing?

The final letter from the Qing Dynasty palace maid ends here, leaving behind a perplexing mystery. What is the meaning of those last few lines about "what are the women doing"? And is the double dragon jade seal the same double dragon seal on the buttocks of the ghost infant, or the double dragon seal hinted at in Qi Silong's duty diary before his death?

I tried hard to recall the masterpiece, "Along the River During the Qingming Festival." If the palace maid's diary is genuine, then the "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" that Puyi took out of the palace was a fake. If that painting is fake, then the national treasure "Along the River During the Qingming Festival," which was seized by the People's Liberation Army in 1945 and is now housed in the Palace Museum, is also a forgery. Because I loved art as a child, I copied the figures, animals, and… in middle school. In my mind, the red-roofed sedan chair? The shoe shop?… familiar images flashed through my mind. But why don't I remember the painting having a double dragon seal? Yes, if what's in the textbook is fake, how can I imagine what this palace maid saw before her death?

I imagine the palace maid's hallucination before she died. She died while looking at the "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" scroll in the mirror. She didn't finish writing her last diary before her soul returned to heaven. But before that, her last strength was to stuff the diary into the bronze mirror.

The picture is gradually becoming clearer. One thing is certain: anyone who has seen the "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" scroll appear in a mirror will die mysteriously. So what kind of curse does the "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" scroll hold? I've seen it too. Does death await me?

To uncover this secret, I must start with the black-clad female ghost that Qi Silong embraced and find the DV tape from February 17th. If it wasn't deleted, then the video of that woman with only a face embracing Qi Silong at the dry well would have been recorded. It definitely was filmed. Supernatural beings are also products of nature; it's impossible for them to be completely without any trace!

As evening approached, I ran to the security department to ask the captain for the DV videotape from February 17th.

What do you need it for?

Captain Ji Yunsheng looked suspicious.

"I stumbled upon Xiao Qi's diary, and there's a mysterious entry that mentions a woman by a dry well... I'm not referring to a ghost, Captain, please help me!"

"Don't get hooked on ghost stories. These kinds of rumors are commonplace in the Forbidden City. You young people! Alright, go and look them up yourselves. Make sure you keep a record of your readings, and don't let outsiders see them."

"Yes, adhering to confidentiality is our duty! Is anyone here right now?"

"There should be someone on duty. Ask them for the key. Here's my pass; just tell them you need to borrow it."

"Yes, Captain."

"Oh, don't forget, we're going to the field together at 10 PM tonight! I'll call your cell phone."

"But you'll have to make a long-distance call; I'm still using my hometown number!"

"It's okay, the department will reimburse you."

I dashed to the archives. The archives department was a small, newly built two-story building. Although it wasn't tall, an elevator led to the underground archives. The building was very quiet; there wasn't a single person inside, except for a woman on duty at the entrance. I greeted her, showed her my internal pass, and without her looking up, I went straight in.

It was around 7 PM. Everyone in the archives department had left. I wanted to find someone so I could get the key to go in, so I called out twice, but no one answered. Then I remembered the woman on duty and went back to the door to look for her. But the door to the duty room was closed, so I peered through the window, but there was no one there. Strange, there was a woman sitting there reading a newspaper or something just now, where did she go? Did she go to the restroom?

"Hello! Is anyone there? I want to go into the archives."

Still no one answered; my own echo reverberated in the silent archives building. Logically, the woman in the restroom should have been able to hear me, so why didn't she utter a sound?

I went into the duty room myself, took the key to the archives room, and headed to the second floor. Suddenly, the elevator started moving and headed straight for the second floor. I was startled. This was unbelievable! Why would the elevator move if no one was there? Maybe it was the woman on duty. I quickly went up the stairs to the second floor. The corridor was empty; there wasn't a soul in sight, and I didn't see anyone get off the elevator.

I was a little scared, so I walked to the elevator. The elevator doors were closed, but I pressed a button, and the doors opened. There was no one inside. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead; I knew something bad might happen. I quickly left the elevator and went to the archives. As soon as I left, the elevator doors slowly closed again and went straight down to the first floor.

Chapter Ten: Embroidered Shoes in the Archives

"This might be an elevator design; don't be afraid," I reminded myself.

The not-so-long corridor felt like a death trap to me. The heating pipes, the walls, and the red fire extinguishers all jolted my nerves. Mustering my courage, I rushed forward, taking three steps at a time. Nothing happened, and I arrived at the reading room. The Palace Museum's archives are entirely electronic, something I learned a lot about during training. I entered the archive password and opened the heavy iron door to room 204. The security department's files were here. I quickly opened the safe and found the video recording index, but after searching the entire database, I couldn't find any record of an entry dated February 17th. This was strange; it didn't comply with archival regulations. Every day's surveillance footage must be archived… how could this one record be missing?

I was searching around when suddenly a familiar sound rang out. I turned around sharply and was surprised to find that it was the sound of a computer starting up. A computer next to my desk, which had been unattended, had suddenly started up!

Could it be a timer? Does the computer turn on whenever someone searches the index? I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation; perhaps it was a hint, or some kind of divine guidance. I put down my keys, rushed over, and started using the keyboard, discovering an electronic document search engine on the computer. When I entered the keywords for the February 17th image data, the results immediately appeared on the screen, showing the storage location as file cabinet number 1644 in the basement archives.

Number 1644? This striking number stirred my memories. Didn't Sister Zhen say she saw a car with license plate number 1644 picking her up before she disappeared? Why would this number appear in the Palace Museum archives, and specifically in the February 17th document I'm looking for? Fine beads of sweat appeared on my forehead as I imagined the empty and terrifying scene in the basement, the elevator that started without anyone using it, the woman reading the newspaper who vanished from the mailroom in the blink of an eye, the computer automatically turning on… The moment of truth had arrived. I had to make a choice: either give up the investigation into my cousin and Qi Silong's paranormal case and leave the building as fast as I could, or venture deep underground and risk my life to find that "death" file! Unravel the mystery of Qi Silong's disappearance and the enigmatic "Along the River During the Qingming Festival."

I'm an outstanding police officer at the police academy, consistently ranking first in various intelligence competitions, while Qi Silong, a year ahead of me, always trails behind. Now, my classmate has disappeared. Is this truly a test of my wisdom and courage? At this crucial moment, about to uncover the secret of death, I will not back down… One of my missions is to find out the truth behind Qi Silong's disappearance; I will not give up. I picked up the key to the basement security door, my mind made up. Subconsciously, I glanced back at the mysterious computer. What force controls it? Is it the remote boot program? But who controls this program? Why is it hinting that I should use the computer to search for files? Is that mysterious force human or ghost?

Just as I was intently staring at the computer screen, about to leave, the file on the screen began to shake, and soon a chilling image appeared: filing cabinet number 1644 was staring at the screen, but it was definitely shaped like a coffin. Suddenly, the lights in the room went out, the computer screen went black, the power was cut off, but the monitor remained on. In the darkness, another strange image appeared! Like a ghostly screensaver, a painting of "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" came into view. This time I saw it clearly; my good memory immediately recalled seeing the same image on an advertisement at the Afang Hotel—it was the same picture! But there are more than thirty versions of "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" circulating in society, all copies from different periods. Even those seen in art books are often different. Why do I always see the same picture? If there are ghosts, why do they always make me see the same image?

"Along the River During the Qingming Festival," this painting marked by numerous calamities, has been collected by countless collectors and connoisseurs for over 800 years since its creation, becoming a coveted masterpiece for later emperors and nobles. It has endured a tumultuous journey, surviving numerous wars and near-death experiences… entering the palace five times and being stolen four times, resulting in countless executions. The figures and everything within the scroll are familiar to the world… Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. The figures in the painting! 1644! I finally understood the numerical mystery! A long-standing statistical estimate suggests that there are 1643 figures of varying sizes in the painting, each remarkably lifelike. Doesn't 1644 imply a 1644th figure in this masterpiece? Yet, throughout history, countless masters have confirmed the 1643 figures; there is no record of a superfluous 1644. Could there truly be a 1644th figure? If so, then there is reason to believe that the national treasure "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" that has been passed down for hundreds of years is a fake, or... this figure is hidden in the most concealed place in the painting.

What connection does the ghost of 1644 have with "Along the River During the Qingming Festival"? My mind raced with a series of questions seeking answers. Suddenly, a dark mass obscured the screen—it was a woman's hair, swirling around. The striking resemblance was uncanny; wasn't it the female ghost Qi Silong described in his diary? This image was just like the figure I saw outside the train window. I braced myself to rush out of the archives, but when a blood-red lip appeared on the screen, I moved! Gradually, I felt that the shadow of black hair and red lips wasn't on the computer screen, but in front of it, drifting towards me!

A spasm ran through me, and in my panic, my hand was already on the doorknob. I flung it open and rushed out of the archives. But the bright corridor presented a dizzying sight. The doors to several archives offices ahead were all open. Most terrifyingly, the television monitor in the main hall of the corridor had been turned on at some point, accompanied by a crackling static and snowy sound. As I approached, the image suddenly became clear, showing the corridor in front of me. In the image, all the doors around me were open, and beside each door was a small head peering out—the extremely terrifying faces of little girls with disabilities! They were laughing; some had no chins, and some had black, rotten teeth showing! ... My head buzzed, and I looked away from the television screen. But when I looked back at the open doors, I saw no one. The little girls' faces and terrifying expressions didn't seem real.

"Along the River During the Qingming Festival," the baby—I completely believed the last words written by the palace maid named Xiu'er in 1924. These dead souls did exist, but were they just staging this death game to scare me? ... Maybe they were about to make their move, maybe the Grim Reaper who would devour my cousin and Qi Silong was right in front of me. I couldn't judge, and I didn't dare to move forward anymore, much less take that terrifying and unpredictable elevator. I had to stay clear-headed. Thinking of this, I suddenly turned around and went down the fire escape stairs to the basement.

As I stepped into the entrance to the basement, the sound of footsteps began to echo in the dark corridor upstairs. The sound was crisp and rhythmic, not the sound of leather shoes or high heels clicking on the ground. Each step had two tiny, consecutive tapping sounds. The footsteps were very distinctive. Judging from the very small steps, the person walking must be a woman, and she was wearing the same kind of thick white-soled, thick-heeled embroidered funeral shoes that I saw my "cousin" Pang Zhen wearing for the last time at the Afang Hotel.

Unable to pinpoint which floor the sound was coming from, I quickly opened the fireproof safety door and entered the first-floor corridor. The basement was large but narrow, with smoke detectors and emergency lights hanging on the pale yellow walls. The lights were still on, but the space was very dim. I walked faster and faster, feeling my way forward along the winding underground corridor, trying to locate filing cabinet number 1644. Finally, I saw my target and headed straight for that corner, entering through the safety door.

Before me stood rows of tall filing cabinets, their dark green color contrasting against the empty yet cramped room. Only cabinet number 1644 was a dark red, the same color as the coffin I'd seen on the computer. Familiar with the search procedure, I began methodically searching through the file lookup book for the video recordings from February 17th.

The only sounds in the silent space were my rapid breathing and the rustling of the files. Just as I finally found the file's storage number, the elevator hummed as it descended in the basement corridor. I listened intently to confirm if the person coming down was coming this way. Sure enough, after the elevator doors opened, I imagined the woman's footsteps, which had just terrified me, would strike my ears again, but they didn't. My nerves tensed up again. The elevator had stopped in the lobby on the first floor and no one had stepped off, so why was it in the basement and still empty? I frantically peeked through the peephole of the security door—nothing. No, wait, looking at the elevator doors, I saw half of a pair of thick-soled embroidered shoes peeking out! She was probably about to step out…

Chapter Eleven: The Death Phone Number

I was really nervous, worried that the ghost ladder might bring some unexpected things, so I sped up my work. I had to find out the details before the danger arrived. Fortunately, the cabinet wasn't very high, and I could easily find the file number.

A monotonous, terrifying footstep sounded outside the door. I imagined embroidered shoes striding steadily down the corridor, and my hair stood on end like a hedgehog's quills. The sound grew closer, and the final step stopped outside the security door of filing cabinet M, where I was! I held my breath, waiting for the unpredictable to happen. Suddenly, the security door creaked open a crack, and a gust of cold wind blew in, hitting my face. It was an extremely cold sensation, like a wind blowing from a tomb, terrifying and suffocating. Even the papers on the table fluttered in the wind.

"Who? Who's there?"

In a instinctive self-preservation reaction, I screamed loudly. The shrill, terrifying scream echoed through the corridor, startling even myself. But no one answered. After a while, still no sound. Suddenly, I rushed over, clicked the security door code, and locked it. I was truly grateful for the doors of the Palace Museum Archives; they were absolutely top-notch security measures in the world. Like grasping at a straw, I locked the electronic lock and leaned wearily against the door, feeling a sense of relief at the security device.

Filing cabinet number 1644 was at the very back. I acted quickly, opening the cabinet according to procedure. Sure enough, I found the videotape documents, located the file folder for February 17th, and found the DV video disc. I gently picked it up. The smooth, bright surface of the disc swept across my eyes, gliding under the fluorescent light like a mirror, reflecting my sinister, smug smile. But suddenly, my smile froze. My reflection on the disc vanished, replaced by a terrifying blackness. My shadow gradually transformed into a head, with thick hair, slightly upturned red lips, a pale chin, and blood trickling from her lips! I saw her smile—a more exaggerated, more smug smile.

I panicked, turning around to try and find the black-haired woman's shadow, but there was nothing. Was it a hallucination or a ghost? Damn mirror! Why are there mirrors everywhere, and why is that hideous painting reflected in them? I want to smash it, smash that nightmare! ...But just as I was about to raise it, a slight sound of a combination lock opening came from the door. My nerves immediately went on high alert, my eyes fixed on the doorknob. I watched as the handle slowly turned, and suddenly, the door loosened...I smelled a fragrance! ...It wasn't the unique scent of a woman wearing makeup; it was an unusually wonderful scent, one that would make you feel an irresistible urge to leave your body! I realized it was the intoxicating scent of locust blossoms! "She" had really come.

"thump!"

The folder of documents in my hand fell to the ground. I was truly horrified. Without a doubt, the shameless woman described in Qi Silong's diary must be outside the door! Only she could have that strange fragrance!

Death might be imminent, and I didn't know what to do. But I couldn't just sit and wait to die, so in a moment of inspiration, I quickly turned on the computer. I had to find her image before she strangled me, because computers have memory. Once I opened that image disk, she would never be able to escape. Even if I died, she would be locked in the computer files, and whoever found me would be considered a supernatural killer.

"Hurry, hurry up!"

I silently urged the computer to speed up. The door lock clicked again, slowly opening. At the same time, the lights in the archives room suddenly went out, just like upstairs, plunging the room into darkness except for the light from my computer screen. The computer finally booted up, and I quickly inserted the disk into the host, frantically reaching for my lighter with my other hand.

The door slammed open, and my lighter clicked open. But the faceless woman in the black dress I expected didn't appear. In the dim light, my gaze shifted to the dark red filing cabinet, and my pupils dilated: the documents in filing cabinet 1644 were gone, replaced by rows of bloodied infants! They stared at me with bloodshot eyes, and the hundreds of square meters of archives were filled with ghostly infants! ...I trembled with fear, frantically trying to see the shelves with my lighter, but the ghostly figures were nowhere to be seen. Everything was both real and unreal, and I couldn't tell if it was a problem with my eyes and brain, or if I was already surrounded by ghosts.

I cowered under the computer desk in terror, my hands trembling violently. Despite usually boasting of being the bravest person, my courage was stifled by the eerie atmosphere in this gloomy and terrifying archive room. If it weren't for the computer, whose humming sound kept me company, I can't imagine how my last line of defense would have collapsed at any moment.

The door opened and closed intermittently, but the faceless woman with black hair I had imagined never appeared, nor were the embroidered shoes. The lighter was burning my hand, but I dared not put it out. I could only wait, wait for the final answer, wait to unveil the faceless mask of the female ghost!

Finally, the computer screen showed the video feed, which displayed a brightly lit interior of the Forbidden City and a bustling crowd. I fast-forwarded quickly; the second half of the video was at night, showing the scene before and after Qi Silong's last embrace with the female ghost at the well! I perked up and stared intently at the screen. No matter what, I had to see the real scene of February 17th before I "disappeared."

The desolate courtyard was clearly visible in the moonlight, with a corner of the eaves and a large locust tree captured statically in the frame. Suddenly, a black silhouette appeared, barely recognizable as human, but only an upper body, no legs, hovering beside the tree. Then, Qi Silong's figure entered the frame; it was the scene of him rushing towards the tree after leaving the well. In the frame, Qi Silong's burly body enveloped the black shadow. Just two seconds after Qi Silong embraced the tree, the shadow embraced him in return, revealing something pale, like a face. I immediately froze the frame, realizing it was a face, without eyes, without a nose, only what appeared to be a red dot around the mouth. I had finally caught the ghostly figure! A surge of joy amidst despair, courage once again overshadowing the agonizing panic, I opened the computer's CD drive, removed the disc, and dashed out.

The corridor was eerily quiet, its narrow passageway concealing a deadly undercurrent. I cautiously made my way down the dark corridor, attempting to reach the elevator. This time, I wouldn't retrace my steps; even if it meant certain death, I would take the elevator up. I wanted to use this as a diversionary tactic against that mysterious force. Just then, my phone rang in my pocket, but it was a strange ringtone—a mournful, suspenseful tune. I frantically pulled out my phone, assuming it was Captain Ji Yunsheng calling. But upon seeing the number, I was immediately stunned:

That was my cousin Pang Zhen's phone number from two years ago, the number she used before the car accident. She changed it after "she" came back. I even asked "her" why she changed the number, and "she" said her phone was broken in the accident, and because the old number was unlucky, she changed it. After this paranormal experience in Kaifeng, I'm convinced that my real cousin has been dead for two years. Why does this number still exist? Has someone stolen it and is still charging? That's impossible… Should I answer the call? When my own life is threatened, why take another risk? But the call connected automatically, and a woman's voice with static came through:

"I died a terrible death! Thank you, brother, for keeping my photo...!"

"Hey, who are you?"

My mournful voice echoed alone in the corridor.

"I am Pang Zhen! I shouldn't have died so tragically. I still had my youth... I know you liked me, but for a ghost, love is no longer hers. How I long to see you, to have you embrace me... But now, I don't even have the courage to see you once!"

"Zhen, I'm in trouble right now. If you have a spirit, please help me get out of this hellhole!"

"Yu Ling, we can't escape that trap, so let's stop here and not pursue this any further."

"What did you say? What trap? Tell me where you are, and who is hunting me?"

"Death is another world, and there are not many boundaries between life and death... Don't easily trust anyone except yourself."

"What did you say?"

"I want you to remember this..."

"Where did you call me from?"

"ah!……"

The signal was lost. Pang Zhen's last voice was terrifying, as if she had been hit hard or was facing great pain. I didn't know where that damn phone call came from, so I quickly dialed that mysterious number back, but all I heard was a standard automated voice: "The number you dialed does not exist. Please confirm and redial..."

Chapter Twelve: The Hanged Ghost in the Elevator

The blue screen of my phone illuminated everything around me. Like a burnt-out charcoal, the suffocating tension and fear drained my energy and mental capacity. I was now a walking corpse, unable to see anything in the elevator, only sensing the glowing elevator buttons. I groped my way towards the elevator, cautiously deciding whether to press the red button. But when I strained to see the numbers on the buttons, the floor the elevator was supposed to be on shocked me! B13! What did that mean? The thirteenth basement level? Damn it, there's no elevator in the Forbidden City that goes to the 13th basement level! It must be stuck in hell right now!

I hesitated, and just then, the familiar, captivating footsteps of a woman echoed once more in the dark corridor. I had no chance to curse.

With no other choice, and no way to go back up the fire escape I'd come from, I frantically pressed the elevator button. Thankfully, the hellish elevator rose rapidly, B12, 11, 10… and stopped at my B1 floor. By then, the footsteps were almost upon me, but in the darkness I couldn't see anything! I frantically tried to light my lighter again, but it wouldn't ignite; only a pale electronic spark flickered. I backed away while trying to light it, but the elevator doors still wouldn't open. I was frantic. I immediately turned around and tried to pry open the door. A cold spark flashed on my finger, and the mirror-like elevator door in front of me was reflected like a mirror. I saw a white shadow! It was only five or six meters away from me, facing me.

"Ah! Who!"

I screamed, trembling as I fired the second spark. The sight before me made my body convulse: it was a deathly pale face, or perhaps it wasn't a face at all, but something even paler than a white sheet! There was only a small cut at the bottom, from which blood was flowing! Her hair was very long, obscuring her lower body! Yet she was "wearing" a pair of white-soled embroidered shoes…

As if in a nightmare, my mind went blank, unable to comprehend what was happening. The elevator doors opened, and I frantically stumbled inside, then slammed the doors shut! The white figure rushed over, desperately trying to squeeze in! I held onto the close button, and in the chaos, I caught her hand. I saw clearly that she only had three fingers, with long nails, but they weren't flesh and blood; they were just skin shaped like fingers. I had trapped her outside. As the elevator ascended, I heard a scream, and the ghostly figure was thrown into the basement.

However, just as I was relieved to have escaped death's pursuit, my panicked gaze returned to the elevator. As I turned to relax for those few seconds from the basement to the first floor, and was about to look down, I noticed a pair of shoes beside me: red velvet embroidered shoes with yellow trim. My vision blurred, so I squatted down, admiring the eerie shoes that had been tormenting me with convulsive eyes. Such beautiful shoes; perhaps I had only ever seen them in ancient movies. Whose feet would they be most suitable to wear?

A few drops of liquid fell on my face. My skewed gaze involuntarily followed the shoes upwards. Was there something on the top of the elevator? First, a woman's feet dangling back and forth, and then... Oh my god, it was a woman hanging herself! Her eyes bulged out of their sockets, her face was as white as paper. The sight was terrifying. She was hanging right above my head, sticking out a frighteningly long tongue!

Confined in this cramped space, I had no choice but to face this unfortunate hanged ghost. This time, however, I took a clear look at the woman with a face. My head buzzed. I recognized her. She was the woman who sat in the mailroom reading the newspaper before entering the building!

A yellow silk ribbon was deeply embedded in her neck. She was in her thirties and not particularly beautiful. Although her resentful eyes bulged outwards, they were small and not large. There was a large bruise on her face, but her blush was striking. And those small eyes… I remember now! The woman reading the newspaper was the train attendant I met on that train! That striking blush, those squinting small eyes—it was her!

I can't remember how I ran out of the elevator lobby on the first floor. I rushed out of the lobby, but something blocked my way. Due to inertia, I slammed into it and was tripped and thrown a long way. In my escape, I had overlooked the gloom outside the elevator. A red coffin tripped me up. Filing cabinet number 1644? How could it be here? Ignoring the pain, I stood up suspiciously, wanting to see what was going on. But then, a row of small things stood up from the edge of the cabinet: nine naked little girls standing in a row, smiling at me. Some of them only had one eye, black and rotten teeth, some had no jaw, some didn't even have a stomach! I could see disgusting hip bones and bloody chests... At this point, I didn't know what fear was anymore. My face convulsed as I unconsciously smiled at the nine "ghost babies."

The laughter of the ghost babies evoked an involuntary pity in me. Did they not suffer any pain in their childhood, which lacked a complete physical form?

"Are you all dead children? Are you the ghost babies who were buried alive by the eunuchs in the Forbidden City back then?"

I made a sound like a feverish beast, hoping they would answer me, which would prove we were in the same world. But just like in the picture, they only laughed.