A terrifying story that took place in an abandoned apartment

Chapter 5

She hung up the phone.

After hanging up the phone, I realized that my back was soaked with cold sweat. I was panting heavily, as if I had just crawled out of the water.

Nie Xiaoqian?

Is she really a ghost that escaped from Pu Songling's Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio?

Part Two, Day Seven, Section Eight, Day Seven

I didn't sleep well again last night. After struggling to get out of bed this morning, I spent the entire morning thinking about how to get rid of that awful harassment. At noon, I finally turned on my phone and immediately received several text messages. To my surprise, one of them was coming from a deserted village—

"If I have something important to ask you, please call my cell phone, Huo Qiang."

Huo Qiang? I remember now, he was the leader of the four college students who went to the deserted village.

The text message from the deserted village sent a chill down my spine. I checked the time it was sent—10 a.m. yesterday. I'd kept my phone off all day yesterday to avoid harassment. Maybe something really had happened to them?

I paced around the room for a while before finally dialing Huo Qiang's cell phone.

Huo Qiang's anxious voice came from the other end of the phone: "Hello, is that you? We called your cell phone all day yesterday, but it was always switched off."

The sound was clear now, without the strange static from last time. I asked coldly, "Tell me quickly, what happened?"

"We found the old house called Jinshi Mansion. Just like you described in your novel, it was a deep, dark, and eerie mansion. However, there was no one in the huge old house. We searched every room, and they were all empty."

Is Mr. Ouyang not home?

"What Mr. Ouyang? Is he a character you made up in your novel?"

I sensed something was wrong: "What do you mean?"

“We asked the villagers yesterday, and they said that Mr. Ouyang died of cancer eight months ago.”

"What?"

“Mr. Ouyang is a dead man. He died eight months ago. Everyone in the deserted village says so. We even found his grave on the mountain.”

Instantly, a chill ran down my spine: "Impossible, absolutely impossible."

"I didn't lie to you. No wonder you wrote in your novel that Mr. Ouyang's entire family died, didn't you?"

"No." I was stunned, unsure how to describe what I had seen—suddenly, I sensed something, as if the atmosphere of the deserted village had traveled through the airwaves into my room. I immediately shouted, "Huo Qiang, where are you now? How are you?"

"The four of us were all in the Jinshi residence."

"Leave quickly! Leave this deserted village immediately and return to Shanghai."

But Huo Qiang stubbornly insisted on the phone, "No, we don't know the secret of the deserted village yet, we can't leave."

He hung up the phone.

It took me a long time to recover from the confusion and carefully recall what Huo Qiang had just said—was Mr. Ouyang really dead?

He said that Mr. Ouyang had died eight months ago, but when I arrived in the deserted village four months ago, didn't I see Mr. Ouyang with my own eyes? He also warmly invited me to stay in the old house of the Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations), and he told me the three stories about the ancestors of the Ouyang family in person.

If, as Huo Qiang said, Mr. Ouyang died eight months ago, then who was the Mr. Ouyang I met at the Jinshi Mansion four months ago?

Could he be—no, I dare not think any further. Although I have written so many horror novels, I have never truly experienced something this terrifying: seeing a ghost.

Unbelievable! I can only describe this as unbelievable.

To think that someone you had face-to-face contact with had actually been dead for several months at that time, how can anyone believe it?

At this point, my mind went blank again. Normal logic could no longer explain everything. Could this also be part of the mystery of the deserted village?

Suddenly, I thought of someone.

He is Ye Xiao.

Those who have read my novels know that Ye Xiao is my cousin and an excellent police officer. He has appeared in various mysterious cases and has given me a lot of help.

Now that I've encountered such a difficult situation, it seems that Ye Xiao is the only person who can help me.

That evening, I went to Ye Xiao's house.

My sudden visit surprised Ye Xiao. He was still the same as before, his young and aloof face exuding a mature air. He said he had recently finished solving a mysterious case and was on vacation these past few days. Moreover, he had also read my novella, "The Deserted Village."

After exchanging a few pleasantries, I got straight to the point and told Ye Xiao everything from my trip to the deserted village a few months ago, to the novel "The Deserted Village" that I published after returning, as well as the several troublesome things I had recently encountered.

As I spoke, I couldn't help but feel a little scared; this was completely unlike my usual self. After uttering the last word, cold sweat dripped down my forehead.

After hearing all this, Ye Xiao remained silent for a long time. He was still as cold and composed as ever, silently savoring every detail I had mentioned. But this time, he fell into deep thought, like a Go master suddenly encountering a difficult endgame.

However, his answer disappointed me: "Are you sure all of this is true?"

"Of course, of course it's true. Do you think this is just my imagination, or another novel?"

Ye Xiao replied calmly, "Don't be nervous, I understand how you feel. Right now, there are two main things that are giving you a huge headache: First, those four college students who went to explore the deserted village told you on the phone today that Mr. Ouyang, whom you met four months ago, actually died eight months ago, which has plunged you into deep fear. Second, there's a mysterious woman who calls herself Nie Xiaoqian. She's been using some absurd legends about the deserted village to constantly harass you, and she's even secretly following you."

"Yes, you must help me."

"Don't worry, your business is my business. However, I think you shouldn't interfere anymore. Let these things pass, and everyone will forget about them soon."

"Okay, then please tell me, what should I do now?"

"The first problem can't be solved right now unless you go to the deserted village again yourself."

I immediately shook my head: "No, I won't go again."

"However, I can help you with the second thing."

Part Two, Day Seven, Section Nine, Day Eight

It's raining again.

The torrential rain cooled Shanghai at the turn of spring and summer. All the plants grew wildly in the rain, spreading their green branches and leaves into every crevice. Under the lush shade of the climbing vines, I quietly went out with an umbrella. The surrounding misty vapor enveloped me like a raincoat.

The subway smelled musty on this rainy day, unusually quiet and desolate. I strolled leisurely through the ticket gates and down to the somewhat empty platform. Instead of waiting for the train behind the yellow line as usual, I calmly found a seat, took out a book, and started reading.

The subway train roared into the station. I watched coldly as the doors opened, people got out, and people got in, but I remained seated on the platform bench, unmoved. A few seconds later, the doors closed again, and the train sped away once more.

A little while later, another train arrived from the other direction, but I remained firmly seated on the platform chair, watching it drive away. Twenty minutes passed like this, and I remained seated, watching several trains come and go on either side of me.

Suddenly, I left the platform and walked up to the upper hall.

I quickened my pace and soon walked out of the ticket checkpoint.

Just as I was about to leave the subway station, I heard a series of crisp, hurried footsteps behind me. I immediately turned around alertly and saw a girl in her early twenties, dressed in all black, running towards me. Her hair was flying in the wind, making her quite eye-catching.

I noticed that even as she ran, her eyes were still fixed on me. We stared at each other coldly until she passed me. Suddenly, I reached out and grabbed her wrist; it felt as soft as squeezing a cat's bone. She let out a soft meow and struggled a few times, but I wasn't going to let her go.

"Nie Xiaoqian?"

I stared into her eyes and asked.

She froze, a look of depression and stubbornness flashing in her eyes, then lowered her head and stopped struggling.

At this moment, Ye Xiao finally ran over. He looked at the woman in front of him and said, "It must be her. I have been secretly observing her for twenty minutes. She has been watching you from a distance. She followed you when you left the platform. When I came over and asked her a question, she immediately ran towards the exit."

It turned out that last night, Ye Xiao had come up with a plan for me: to lure the snake out of its hole and find this "Nie Xiaoqian." When I entered the subway station, Ye Xiao secretly followed me. I pretended to be a fool, sitting still on the platform and deliberately missing many trains. That way, if someone was watching me, they would miss many trains like me, making them easy to spot. Sure enough, Ye Xiao noticed this strange girl and concluded that she was the one following me.

Now, she's in my hands.

She finally raised her head, looked at me with a somewhat aggrieved expression, and gently parted her lips: "You hurt me."

"sorry."

My hand recoiled as if I'd been electrocuted. Faced with this pitiful young girl, I was at a loss for words. She was completely different from the harasser I'd imagined. The long string of angry words I was about to unleash now vanished from my mind.

She rubbed her wrist and looked at me and Ye Xiao, saying, "Now that you've captured me, do whatever you want with me."

I immediately deflated like a punctured balloon and said timidly, "Don't worry, we won't do anything to you."

At this moment, I whispered to Ye Xiao, "Thank you for helping me find her. May I talk to her alone?"

Ye Xiao looked into the girl's eyes, then whispered to me, "Okay, but you have to be careful. Don't be too soft-hearted. In my experience, angels and devils often coexist."

After saying his last meaningful sentence, Ye Xiao smiled and patted my shoulder, then solemnly said to the girl, "I'm sorry, I startled you just now. I'm a police officer, and he's my cousin. Neither of us are bad people. I hope you won't bother him again, or I'll come looking for you again. Goodbye."

Ye Xiao quickly left the subway station, leaving me alone to watch the girl in black, and I couldn't help but feel a little nervous. She slowly exhaled, stared into my eyes, and said, "I am Nie Xiaoqian."

Unbelievable, my first impression of her was that she was exactly like Nie Xiaoqian from Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio—

I remember reading the vernacular version of *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio* when I was a child. Whenever I read "Nie Xiaoqian," the image of an ancient woman would appear before my eyes: she would silently appear and disappear in ancient temples, with long, flowing black hair, a slender waist, a beautiful, fox-like face, and eyes like a spring pond. Most alluring was the faint sadness in her eyes, like ripples gently spreading across the surface of water.

Now, she is right in front of me.

But I dared not look at her anymore. Her face was like a scene from a movie playing on repeat, once again stirring up memories of my teenage fantasies. I couldn't help but sigh softly, "She looks so much like me."

What do you think it looks like?

Just like I heard on the phone, her voice was like a magnet; was this the voice of the female protagonist in Liaozhai?

I shook my head awkwardly and said, "It's nothing—may I buy you a cup of tea?"

She turned her head to the side and said, "I'm already your prey, do as you please."

So I took her out of the subway station. The rain outside was even heavier than before, and we went into a small teahouse on Shaanxi South Road.

As soon as I sat down, she stared into my eyes and asked, "You seem a little nervous."

"Am I nervous?" I deliberately avoided her gaze and looked out at the rainy scene. "Of course, how can I not be nervous sitting with someone who came out of a ghost story?"

But she remained unconvinced, staring straight into my eyes, and coldly asked, "Have you really been to the deserted village?"

"Really, I've been to deserted villages, I'm absolutely not lying to you."

"But your 'The Deserted Village' has too many errors and is not realistic at all."

"The Deserted Village is a novel, and novels are a hybrid of reality and illusion."

She said dismissively, "Then you're way too far from the truth. Your desolate village is nothing more than a painting seen through a telescope."

"Yes, there must be many secrets in this deserted village that I don't know about." I didn't want to be led by the nose by her, so I immediately changed the subject: "Now it's your turn to answer, is your name really Nie Xiaoqian?"

For a fleeting moment, a flicker of fear crossed her eyes; I guessed she seemed to remember something, but it vanished just as quickly. She nodded and said, "Yes, my name is—Nie Xiaoqian."