A terrifying story that took place in an abandoned apartment

Chapter 15

Then, Xiaoqian went into a room next door, and I quickly followed her. It was also a spacious room, with slightly better lighting than the previous one. But to our surprise, there was a black piano in the room.

Xiaoqian immediately rushed over. Although the piano was covered in dust, she still opened the lid. A row of black and white keys was revealed, and she reached out and pressed a few keys. However, the beautiful notes she had imagined did not flow out. The piano was like a mute; no matter how Xiaoqian pressed the keys, it could not produce any sound.

I examined the label under the piano closely; it was made in England in 1947. I shook my head and said, "It's been so many years. This piano must have broken long ago. If it wasn't broken, such an expensive piano would have been taken away long ago."

Then I went to look behind the piano, and sure enough, the parts inside were all in a mess, like a broken machine with only scrap metal left.

Xiaoqian nodded, then closed the piano lid in disappointment: "You're right, otherwise it wouldn't be here."

Then I looked back at the inner wall, then at the piano, and suddenly exclaimed, "This is it!"

"What did you say?"

"Just like in the photo."

I immediately took out a photo from my bag. It turned out to be the Ouyang family portrait. I pointed to the wall in front of me, and Xiaoqian immediately nodded: "Yes, the piano and the fireplace."

It turned out that there was a large fireplace embedded in this wall, and several Western-style wall lamps on the upper part of the wall, along with the piano, all of which were exactly the same background as in the old photograph. We compared them carefully again, and then walked to the other side of the house with the photograph in hand. This must have been the photographer's position. Standing here and looking out, the perspective was exactly the same as in the photograph, with almost no change in the background, as if time had frozen in this room.

“It was taken in this room.” I stared blankly at the old photo. “That’s right, this is the abandoned village apartment. More than fifty years have passed, but when we stand here and look at the people in this photo, it’s as if they are still in this room.”

"Don't talk nonsense." Xiaoqian immediately interrupted me, as if I had broken some taboo. She looked back at the window again. It was pouring rain outside. The dense rain, the ambiguous sky, and the damp, stale air in the room all made it feel suffocating.

"It's raining so hard outside, and it's not going to stop anytime soon. Let's take a look at this house first."

As we were talking, I walked out of the main room and around the ground floor. On the other side of the hall seemed to be a kitchen, but there were no utensils in sight, and the stove was covered in cobwebs. There were also a few small rooms, probably where the servants used to sleep.

I returned to the stairwell and cautiously climbed it. The spiral staircase was fairly sturdy, though the wooden railings were covered in a thick layer of dust. After circling the stairs, I finally reached the second floor of the abandoned village apartment. A long corridor stretched out before me, but not a ray of light could be seen, making me hesitant to venture in. There was a light switch on the wall; I tentatively pressed it, and to my surprise, the light turned on. It turned out the power had never been cut off.

Suddenly, Xiaoqian's crisp footsteps caught up, echoing strangely in the empty house. I smiled slightly at her and said, "Perhaps people can still live here."

But her expression remained serious: "But why has no one lived here? It looks like it's been vacant for at least several years."

I went straight into the corridor. The overhead light was dim, shining on a cloud of dust that seemed like a thick fog. I waved my hand vigorously to clear the fog and boldly stepped into a room next door.

This room, about ten square meters, was still empty; most of the damp walls had peeled off. I slowly walked to the window, where green vines and leaves had climbed all over the windowsill, almost covering half of it. Looking out through the green-shaded window, I saw a vast expanse of ruins and demolition sites, and further away, high-rise buildings that had already been erected. Outside, the rain was pouring down.

The heavy rain continued, and some raindrops splashed in through the broken windowpane. I took a deep breath; even the air felt damp, as if the house were submerged in water.

I turned around and saw Xiaoqian standing at the door. Her face was unusually pale, her half-damp hair clung to her forehead, and her eyes looked very tired. I walked over to her and said, "Did you catch a cold?"

"No, I just feel that the air in this house is a bit strange."

"Old houses always have this strange smell, which is normal."

Then, I returned to the stairwell in the corridor and glanced towards the third floor. A few slivers of light shone from upstairs. I hesitated for a while, holding onto the railing, my heart inexplicably racing.

Just as I stepped onto the floor, Xiaoqian suddenly grabbed me and said softly, "Don't go up."

"Why?"

Her eyes were fixed on me blankly: "I don't know, but don't go up there."

I stood there with her for a few seconds, but in the end I gave up: "Okay, let's get out of here."

We descended the spiral staircase and returned to the ground floor. The front door seemed to be blocked off; we could only exit through the corridor we had come in through. A lot of miscellaneous items were piled up along the corridor. Among them, I found an old umbrella—one of those black, steel-framed umbrellas from the 1980s. I tried to open it; it seemed usable.

So, Xiaoqian and I shared an umbrella and walked out of the deserted apartment through the back door.

Stepping out of the oppressive old house, we greedily inhaled the rainy air, the heavy rain relentlessly pounding against our umbrellas. Fortunately, the umbrella had a large coverage area, just enough to accommodate the two of us, and Xiaoqian seemed to consciously keep a few centimeters away from me, trying her best not to touch me.

The entire path was filled with rubble and ruins, as if walking through some ancient site. I kept looking back; the abandoned village apartment stood amidst the ruins, its entire body bound by green vines. I imagined the heavy rain causing these plants to grow wildly, their green leaves stretching to every corner of the old house—perhaps their final celebration.

We struggled through the rain and finally made it out of the ruins. Suddenly, I remembered something: "Wait a minute, there's another place I want to go."

The heavy rain seemed to be making Xiaoqian a little flustered: "Where?"

"The property management company is the only place where you can get more information about the house."

Xiaoqian hesitated for a moment and then said, "Okay, let's go."

It was raining, and we hardly saw anyone. We finally managed to find out the address of the property management company, which was just two streets away. So, Xiaoqian and I, holding our umbrellas together, quickly went to the property management company.

I lied and said I was a journalist doing an investigative report about old houses, and asked the property management about the house at No. 13 Anxi Road.

"No. 13 Anxi Road?" The property management company manager gasped, surprised. "Why are you asking about that building?"

Is something wrong?

"That house is going to be demolished in ten days."

Suddenly, as if I'd been punched in the gut, I shook my head frantically and said, "Impossible, how could they possibly demolish it?"

"Didn't you see? All the houses along Anxi Road have been demolished, and now only that one building remains. According to the demolition team's construction plan, No. 13 Anxi Road will be the last house to be demolished."

Why did you tear it down?

"The land on both sides of Anxi Road has been leased out, and they are preparing to develop high-end residential buildings."

I suddenly felt a little flustered: "So who does this house belong to now?"

“This house originally belonged to the state, which means it was owned by our property management company. It had been vacant for many years and no one had lived there for a long time.”

"How can such a big house be empty? Can't it be rented out?"

"Of course I want to rent it. Many people have come to see the house and are prepared to pay a high price to rent it. But as soon as they walk into the house, they feel that the yin energy is too heavy and it is unlucky. Nowadays, people pay a lot of attention to feng shui when renting a house, especially those rich bosses. They are all very superstitious. If they see that the feng shui is bad, they dare not rent it no matter what."

"Do you know what this house was like before Liberation?"

The property management staff shook their heads and said, "That's been too long, we don't know either."

Knowing I wouldn't get any more answers, I thanked them and hurriedly left the property management company.

The rain had gradually subsided, but Xiaoqian's eyes still seemed a little dazed. I suddenly nudged her and said, "What's wrong? You didn't say a word at the property management company just now."

What can I say?

Her cold reply intimidated me.

I felt a sense of despair and looked up, saying, "Forget it, Xiaoqian. This has nothing to do with you. Don't come back. Forget all of this."

But Xiaoqian shook her head and said, "No, I also want to know the secrets of the deserted village."

I didn't know what to say to her; in fact, my own mind was in turmoil. I handed the umbrella to Xiaoqian and said, "I'm leaving. Goodbye—no, let's not meet again."

Then, without looking back, I rushed into the rain, hailed a taxi, and went home.

Sitting in the back of the taxi, I looked back at Xiaoqian by the roadside. Her slender body, along with the black umbrella, resembled a beautiful city sculpture.

Part Three, Day Thirteen, Section 27, Day Seventeen (1)

From that day on, I only had ten days left.

In ten days, the abandoned apartment building at No. 13 Anxi Road will be bulldozed. This old house, once inhabited by the Ouyang family, is my only hope for unlocking the mystery of the abandoned village.

Last night, I tossed and turned all night, finally making up my mind: no matter the cost, I must uncover the secrets of the abandoned village. Therefore, I must fully understand the building and uncover its hidden secrets before the abandoned village apartment is destroyed. In these short ten days, I have no other choice but to move into the abandoned village apartment myself.

So, I first went to the property management office of the abandoned apartment complex and told them that I was a writer, writing a book about old Shanghai architecture from the 1940s, and that I was particularly interested in the old buildings in the abandoned apartment complex. But I heard that the buildings were about to be demolished, so I wanted to stay there for a few days as soon as possible. The property management office readily agreed to my request.

Then I prepared some necessities at home, such as a rice cooker, microwave oven, and a simple folding bed. As for large items like a TV and refrigerator, I figured I wouldn't need them there.

I rented a delivery truck, and the movers loaded everything onto it. The destination was the deserted apartment complex. Half an hour later, this tiny moving crew arrived at Anxi Road.

As I stepped off the truck and looked at the old house at No. 13 Anxi Road, my heart raced once again. The movers carried my belongings through the demolition site, and the look in their eyes told me they thought I must be crazy to have moved to a place like this.

I entered through the back door of the abandoned apartment building, walking down the dusty corridor. The movers all frowned; they probably had never taken on this kind of work before. I carried everything up the stairs and placed it in a spacious, bright room on the second floor.

After the movers left, I spent another two hours cleaning the room, getting rid of the dust that had accumulated over the years. Finally, it was habitable. I made a simple cabinet to store my books and clothes, and set up a folding bed. It's quite comfortable with the sheets on. I also tested the power outlets in the room; the rice cooker and microwave work perfectly.

I've never cleaned my own house like this before. I leaned against the window, panting, but I felt a sense of accomplishment—this is my room now, even if it's only been ten days.

Next, I looked around the rooms on the second floor. There were six rooms in total, and they were all pretty much the same, with no furniture or decorations and the floors covered in dust. I didn't have the energy to clean every single room, so I just carefully checked them to see what might be hidden, but I found nothing.

At the end of the second-floor corridor, I found a bathroom, quite spacious, at least ten square meters, with white tiles on the walls and floor. The toilet was still usable. Inside, there was even a tin bathtub, though covered in dust. Behind the sink was a mirror, its surface clouded, making my reflection appear blurry, as if I were facing an ancient bronze mirror. I turned on the tap, letting out murky water that cleared up after a few minutes. I splashed water onto the mirror, and it cascaded down like a waterfall, washing away years of accumulated grime. My eyes gradually emerged from the water curtain. Staring at my eyes behind the water, I suddenly didn't recognize myself. I quickly shook my head, wiped the mirror with a cloth, and finally recognized my face again.

I glanced at the mirror out of the corner of my eye and slowly backed out of the bathroom. Strange, when I looked in the mirror just now, I thought I saw another person in it? I didn't want to think about it anymore, so I hurried downstairs.

The ground floor lobby was so large that I had to wear a mask. I first sprinkled a lot of water on the floor, then mopped it up. Next, I went to the corridor leading to the back door, turned on the dim light, and a cloud of smoke immediately rose from the piles of clutter on both sides. Luckily, I was wearing a mask, so I searched among the messy old furniture for any potentially useful clues.

The old furniture was all dilapidated and its age was indistinguishable; probably all the slightly valuable items had been taken. There were also broken pots and pans, and some things even junk collectors wouldn't take. As I was sweating profusely from exhaustion, I suddenly saw something that looked like a large megaphone under a dilapidated cabinet.

I quickly moved the object out and discovered it was an old-fashioned gramophone. Its flower-shaped horn flared upwards, and below was a square casing—it must be an antique. I hurriedly carried the gramophone into the hall and placed it on an old cabinet. Looking at the spacious hall and the wooden floor beneath my feet, I immediately understood: the gramophone had been kept here all those years ago, because the Ouyang family often hosted family dances. I couldn't help but walk to the center of the hall, where a bare iron rod hung from the ceiling—there must have been a magnificent chandelier there in the past. I looked around the hall again, imagining the grandeur of those dances. Was the gramophone playing a waltz or a ballet?

As darkness fell, the deserted apartment building was shrouded in silence. I stood alone in the center of the empty lobby, as if confronting someone. Finally, I quietly left the lobby, and as I stepped onto the spiral staircase, the sound of my soft footsteps echoed throughout the old building.

Back in my room on the second floor, I had already prepared a microwave dinner. It's kind of funny when I think about it; I've actually started living the microwave era in this old, deserted apartment in this remote village.

After finishing this unusual dinner, I leaned against the window again. Some green vines had almost climbed into the room. I sniffed the air; it must be the smell of ivy leaves, right? Could these strange plant scents, mixed with the musty smell permeating the old house, cause some kind of chemical reaction and create a new chemical element? I stuck my head out the window and took a deep breath. No, these awful smells would accompany me for another ten days.

Shanghai outside the window is already brightly lit; tonight will be another sleepless night. Dozens of high-rise buildings block my view across two streets, but I can still see the distant Pudong Lujiazui area, with its towering skyscrapers reaching into the clouds. Compared to this vibrant Shanghai, the deserted apartment is a completely different world. Looking at the vast expanse of ruins below, I feel as if I'm trapped on a deserted island.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

Ye Xiao's urgent voice came through the phone: "Where are you? I went to your house earlier, but the neighbors said you moved."

"I haven't moved, I'm just staying here temporarily for a few days." I hesitated for a moment before finally telling the truth, "Okay, I'll tell you—I'm in an abandoned village apartment."

"You found it?"

"Not only were they found, but they've also moved in."

"You've moved into an apartment in a deserted village?" Ye Xiao was clearly taken aback; I rarely heard him sound so anxious on the phone. "Are you crazy?"

“I’m not crazy. This is an old three-story building that has been vacant for many years. Now all the houses on Anxi Road have been demolished, leaving only the Huangcun Apartment building, which will also be demolished in ten days. I have no other choice but to move into this building and try to unravel the secrets of Huangcun and the Ouyang family within ten days.”

Ye Xiao's tone became earnest again: "Life is different from novels. Don't think you can be like the characters in novels—you can't, none of us can, understand? None of us can face the fears of life."

"I will handle my own affairs."

Part Three, Day Thirteen, Section 28, Day Seventeen (2)

Ye Xiao gave a bitter smile and said, "No, you see, you're still in the shadow of Huo Qiang and Han Xiaofeng's deaths. Listen to me, whether it's a nightmare or a heart attack, they died of natural causes, not by other people. They can only be considered accidents."