La collection complète des cercueils fantômes de Yellow River

Chapitre 19

I think he should see a psychologist!

Damn it, that's what I said to him, that's why he didn't say a word. That must be it. He's not angry with me, but he's feeling hopeless about himself... This thought burned in my mind like a hot iron. I felt extremely guilty and bit my lip.

However, a faint voice inside me said, "What makes you so sure he's not mentally ill?"

Yes, what makes me think I can determine what is real and what is fake?

My mind was racing with so many thoughts, a chaotic jumble, when suddenly that couplet from *Dream of the Red Chamber* clearly emerged—

When falsehood is taken for truth, even truth becomes falsehood; when nothingness is taken for existence, even existence becomes nothingness.

As my thoughts raced in the car, I felt a profound sorrow, a sorrow that enveloped the image of Li Yuntong in my mind like a bubble. But later I realized that the truly sorrowful things were far larger, more solid, and more despairing than that bubble.

Enveloped in this emotional state, I wasn't in a good mood either, facing Xu Xiaobing's anger at the Wangyue Elementary School gate, fueled by her long wait. Fortunately, Ouyang was there. Noticing the awkward atmosphere, he quickly introduced himself. Seeing a stranger present, Xu Xiaobing was too embarrassed to get angry as usual. She coldly snorted at Ouyang and said nothing more.

Ouyang led us through a small market selling yarn, looking for Mengling's mother's stall, only to be told by someone nearby that she was sick and couldn't come to set up her stall. Xu Xiaobing and I were both disappointed, but Ouyang laughed and said, "It's okay, I know where she lives."

Meng Ling's mother, Xiang Bihua, lived in a residential area not far from here. The buildings there were quite old. A nearby handmade cotton processing workshop was making a deafening buzzing sound, and cotton fibers were flying in the air like snowflakes. When we passed by the workshop, our heads and bodies were covered with silky cotton fibers, and a lot of them flew into our nostrils, causing us to sneeze repeatedly.

"What kind of shady workshop is this? It should be shut down!" Xu Xiaobing said irritably while wiping her nose.

The next section of the road was extremely dilapidated. The original stone bricks had been pried off, leaving only a few pieces. Black mud and foul-smelling water flowed everywhere, emitting a pungent stench that made it almost impossible to walk. Xu Xiaobing and I were at a loss as to how to cross this stretch of road when someone emerged from within, leaping across the dark bricks on tiptoe as if practicing some kind of martial arts. We then discovered that a few bricks had been placed in the black water, serving as a "bridge" to cross this section of the road.

"Can we go?" Ouyang asked us questioningly.

“No problem.” I nodded, but Xu Xiaobing didn’t say anything.

Ouyang went first, and Xu Xiaobing and I followed. The bricks were small, barely enough to step on tiptoe, so we had to walk quickly across them; otherwise, we risked stepping into the sewage. At first, it was fine, but then I spoke up, noticing a loose brick and reminding Xu Xiaobing. She was just about to step on it when I pointed it out, and she quickly pulled her foot back, hesitating in mid-air, unsure where to put it. And then, *thud*, she stepped solidly into the sewage, splashing water everywhere. I hopped over the bricks, landing on dry ground before looking back. Xu Xiaobing had also hopped over, one foot completely covered in black mud. She glared at me, her face ashen, ignoring Ouyang, and yelled, "Look at you! You're so slow! If you hadn't been blocking my way, I wouldn't be like this!" Seeing her disastrous situation, I let her rant. Ouyang, however, seemed unable to stand it any longer and quickly changed the subject, pointing here and saying, "When Meng Ling brought me here before, this place was very clean. I don't know what happened to it now."

"Meng Ling brought you here?" I suddenly realized something was off. "Didn't you say you weren't very close to Meng Ling?"

“Yeah, she only came once. That was because she forgot to bring a document for our company, so I came with her to pick it up.” Ouyang shrugged and led us forward. After passing through various clutter piled up in the narrow alley, we stopped in front of a large red-painted door. Ouyang knocked on the door, calling out loudly, “Xiang Bihua.” Xu Xiaobing, who had been fixing her shoes and trouser legs the whole way, was now squatting on the ground, scrubbing the mud with wood shavings from the corner of the wall. I was about to help her when I suddenly saw a figure flash by out of the corner of my eye. I looked in that direction but saw nothing. However, at the corner of the wall, there seemed to be some strands of dark hair fluttering. When I looked closely, there was nothing there anymore.

"Which one?" A lazy, middle-aged woman's voice came from inside the door.

"I'll buy yarn," Ouyang said loudly.

"Wait a minute." A series of dragging footsteps sounded, and the door opened. Xu Xiaobing stood up and faced the doorway. I shrank behind her, and a disheveled and haggard face peeked out from inside the door, looking at us with a puzzled expression.

“Aunt Xiang,” Ouyang said with a warm smile, “do you remember me?”

Xiang Bihua turned her swollen eyes to Ouyang, stared at him for a few seconds, then shook her head, smiled apologetically, and quickly asked, "Are you here to buy yarn?"

“I suppose so,” Ouyang turned around and pointed at us. “These two are looking for Meng Ling—is Meng Ling here?” Xu Xiaobing and I exchanged glances after hearing him say that, then stared nervously at Xiang Bihua.

"Meng Ling?" As expected, Xiang Bihua didn't know who Meng Ling was. She frowned in confusion. "You've got the wrong person, haven't you? There's no such person here—do you want to buy yarn?"

"What kind of yarn?" Xu Xiaobing asked casually.

“Come in and have a look.” Xiang Bihua stepped aside and led us inside. Inside was a dilapidated courtyard. To the left of the entrance were piles of bricks, cement, and broken furniture; to the right were several huge woven bags, from which clumps of tangled old yarn tumbled. The air, thick with a mixture of smells, felt like a heavy pot lid. Xiang Bihua led us into a small, open room—her living quarters. In that space of about ten square meters, besides a wooden bed and a simple wardrobe, the space from floor to ceiling was almost entirely filled with yarn wrapped in transparent plastic, creating a suffocating feeling upon entering.

“Look, here,” Xiang Bihua pointed quickly around, “here, and here, these are the best-selling items right now—what kind do you want to buy? Are you knitting sweaters or something? For whom? Men or women?” We all gave casual “uh-huhs” in response to her questions. In this cramped space, we didn’t even have room to turn around, and quickly surveyed the entire room. This place was clearly not designed for comfortable living; practicality was secondary, and yarn was the main attraction. However, among the few household items, I still found traces of another person—for example, there were two mouthwash cups hanging on the wall, and among the messy shoes under the bed, several pairs clearly belonged to a young woman. I nudged Xu Xiaobing, and she understood. We pretended to be looking through yarn, secretly checking for any other signs that indicated Meng Ling’s presence.

"Meng Ling doesn't live with you?" Ouyang asked with a smile.

“You’ve really come to the wrong place. I don’t know Meng Ling!” Xiang Bihua climbed onto the pile of yarn, rummaging through a type of yarn she had recommended to us, as she answered Ouyang’s question. Ouyang looked at her in surprise, puzzled, and said, “Auntie, we really do need to see Meng Ling…”

“I told you I don’t know Meng Ling,” Xiang Bihua said breathlessly. “Do you want this? This color is very popular.” She tossed a bundle of yarn to Xu Xiaobing.

Ouyang was about to ask something else when I stopped him. He looked at me suspiciously and didn't say anything more.

It seems that Xiang Bihua really doesn't know who Meng Ling is.

Or, according to our assumption from last night, she doesn't know who Meng Ling is yet, but maybe she will tomorrow—Meng Ling may be gradually entering Xiang Bihua's life, eventually settling down and becoming her daughter. However, this is hardly a good environment. If Meng Ling truly is some kind of being that comes into existence from nothing, why doesn't she choose a better environment for herself?

Xu Xiaobing nudged my arm and handed me a photograph. The yellowed photo showed a girl of about ten years old embracing Xiang Bihua, looking very intimate. Although young, the girl was recognizable; it was clearly Meng Ling. The more joyfully she smiled in the photo, the more chilling it became, even the yellowed background conveying an ominous atmosphere.

"Auntie, who is this?" I handed the photo to Xiang Bihua. Xiang Bihua took it and looked at it, squinted her eyes and thought for a long time, then shook her head: "I don't know, I don't remember."

Xu Xiaobing found the photo under a pile of yarn; it was filthy and had half a footprint on it. Xiang Bihua showed no interest in the photo, so I put it in my bag. We continued searching, finding traces of young girls who had lived there. Finally, we even found a page that seemed to have fallen from a diary, on which was written in delicate handwriting the following passage:

"January 30th. The old buildings at school are still as scary as ever, but what's even scarier now is that even my own home isn't safe anymore. Something strange happened today. When that person appeared in front of me, I felt he was very odd. He looked quite handsome, but his clothes were tattered. As I passed by him, he suddenly let out a strange scream, which startled me so much that I dropped the yarn I was holding, making it dirty. My mom scolded me for a long time. He even followed me to the gate. I told my mom, but she said she didn't see him. I told Uncle Pei and Brother Hai, and they also said they didn't see him. That person was standing in the yard, and they walked around the yard, but they all said they didn't see him. I'm really terrified. I've already told my mom I want to move, but she absolutely refuses. It seems I'll have to move out by myself. I'm so scared."

That's the end of the passage. I looked at the back, but there were no words on it.

Is this Meng Ling's diary? I carefully examined the handwriting; it looked identical to the handwriting in Meng Ling's work reports. Although it was only a few lines, it deeply conveyed the fear Meng Ling had experienced. It seemed she, like Li Yuntong, had also encountered unseen people. She mentioned the old school building. Was the old building really as terrifying as the legends suggested? What I didn't understand was that Meng Ling herself was a terrifying figure, yet from her diary, she seemed no different from ordinary people… Meng Ling was a non-existent figure, yet everywhere indicated her existence. If my hypothesis is correct, then could it be said that all the traces Meng Ling left here—photos, diaries, and everything else—were actually preparations for her gradual entry into our world? If that's the case, it won't be long before Xiang Bihua believes she truly has such a daughter, just as Ouyang believes he knows Meng Ling. If that's the case, why did Meng Ling leave behind such a diary? Aren't the things recorded in this diary precisely what she should have been trying to conceal?

I was filled with doubt and read the text over and over for a long time. Ouyang and Xu Xiaobing huddled beside me. After reading it, Ouyang asked, "What terrible thing happened to her?"

“I don’t know,” I murmured. “Strange, what’s going on?”

"Are you going to buy the yarn or not?" Xiang Bihua finally realized that we had no interest in the yarn, and her expression became less polite.

"I didn't see anything I was satisfied with," Xu Xiaobing said casually—a nonchalant attitude that I found somewhat off-putting.

"What exactly are you doing here?" Xiang Bihua wiped the sweat from her brow, straightened the tangled yarn, and looked us up and down. "If you're not buying yarn, don't waste my time!" This made Ouyang and me very embarrassed. Xu Xiaobing raised her chin and pouted, "You're a business owner, can't you even look at things? Who said we're not buying yarn? If you don't have any suitable yarn here, do you expect me to buy some?"

"Hey, how can you talk like that, girl?" Xiang Bihua started pushing us out. "You guys go away. I wasn't planning to do business today. You came to my door, and now you're not buying anything. Do you think this is child's play?"

Xu Xiaobing was about to retort, but I couldn't hold back any longer. I apologized to Xiang Bihua and dragged her out the door.

"What are you doing?" Once outside the door, Xu Xiaobing forcefully broke free from my hand.

"What's there to argue about? We didn't come here to buy yarn in the first place, so why are you so self-righteous?"

"We can't be polite to these cunning merchants!"

"How do you know she must be a cunning merchant? This time, we're the cunning ones!"

"Alright, stop arguing," Ouyang also came out. "Jiang Ling, what you said is true, but we really have to do it like Xu Xiaobing."

Just as I was about to retort, Xiang Bihua came running out, pointing her finger at me and saying, "Look, I heard everything! You didn't come here to buy yarn, did you? You think you can just take advantage of me, huh..." Her barrage of insults stunned me, my face flushed red, and I didn't know what to say. Ouyang stepped in front of me and said, "Aunt Xiang, how can you have such an attitude in business? Whether you buy or not, you're still a customer. What customer doesn't look at the goods before buying? Don't worry about what we originally planned; we've looked at your goods today, so we've already patronized you. If we find something we like, we'll buy it anyway. How can you insult people just because you're not buying anything?"

These words made Xiang Bihua pause. She muttered to herself, but her offensive was no longer as fierce.

"See, you're so kind, aren't you? You can't be polite to people like that." Xu Xiaobing said gloatingly as we walked back. I ignored her, sulking, while Ouyang smiled to himself.

As we reached the path flowing with sewage, Xu Xiaobing mocked me as she stepped onto the bricks. Suddenly, someone came running towards us, leaping across the sewage like a dragonfly skimming the water, almost knocking Xu Xiaobing over. Before we could react, the person had already darted past us, their body reeking of damp sweat. As they ran, they waved and shouted, "Lingling, Lingling, why are you running? Don't run!" We involuntarily turned to look at them.

"Huh?" Ouyang suddenly exclaimed in surprise. Before I could react, he shouted "Meng Ling" and chased after her.

Meng Ling? I glanced at Xu Xiaobing, who stared at me blankly, her eyes wide. Behind us, in the alley, Ouyang and the other man were already receding into the distance, their leather shoes clattering loudly on the pavement. I snapped out of my daze, jumped up, and ran after them. Xu Xiaobing called out frantically, "Hey, what are you doing? What's going on?" Then came the clatter of her high heels as she caught up. I slowed down a bit to wait for her, but she was too slow. Seeing that Ouyang and the others were about to turn the corner and disappear, I couldn't care less about Xu Xiaobing anymore and sprinted away. I didn't know what to do after catching up with Meng Ling, and I even felt a lot of fear towards her. But all of this needed an answer, and the answer seemed to only be found through running and chasing. So what else could I do?

Since leaving school, it had been a while since I'd run this fast. My stamina seemed to be waning, and I was gradually losing the ability to think clearly, focusing solely on running forward. Ouyang and the others appeared and disappeared in front of me. We darted left and right through this spiderweb-like alleyway, running for what seemed like forever, until suddenly the space opened up before us. The surrounding walls vanished, revealing a vast, barren open space, dotted with patches of tender grass. Only then did I finally see the person Ouyang and the others were chasing—it must be Meng Ling. She had her back to us, running frantically like a trapped animal, her long black hair billowing in the wind. Ouyang and the other man were calling her name, panting, but she ignored them, continuing to run. She quickly crossed the open space and disappeared into an abandoned factory on the opposite side.

"Meng Ling, why are you running?" Ouyang shouted breathlessly.

Upon hearing this, Meng Ling's body trembled, and she suddenly turned around.

I stopped when she hadn't fully turned around yet, when she had only shown the tendency to turn around.

I suddenly felt afraid to face her.

I had only seen her in photos and glimpsed the traces of her past before, but when I actually saw her face, I found myself losing my courage. Although I knew from the photos that she was a very beautiful girl, subconsciously, I always felt that her face was terrifying.

Perhaps, like Medusa's face, anyone who sees her will die. This terrifying thought suddenly popped into my head. I desperately wanted to tell Ouyang to step back, but no sound came out.

Ouyang and the others also stopped.

She finally turned around completely.

This was the first time I met Meng Ling. She was even more beautiful than in the photos, radiating an exceptionally pure and innocent aura. Even with such a flustered expression, she didn't make anyone feel uncomfortable. Anyone who saw her would feel that she was so fragile and needed protection. Before meeting her, I always thought she was a frightening person, but after meeting her in person, I found that I didn't feel afraid at all, which surprised me.

Meng Ling looked at us with some panic. Her gaze swept over the first person's face, lingering on me for a few seconds. Judging from her expression, she recognized me. She even moved her lips as if she wanted to say something. Although she didn't make a sound, I could tell from the shape of her lips that she was saying "Jiang Ling." This made the fear that had dissipated in my heart because of her beauty rise up again like a fog. I involuntarily took a few steps back.

Meng Ling didn't pay attention to me for long. Her gaze finally fell on Ouyang. When she saw Ouyang, she took a few steps back, looked at him desperately, clasped her hands together as if she were bowing, and bent her body repeatedly: "Please don't come any closer, please don't come any closer."

"What exactly happened?" I had never seen Ouyang so anxious.

"Don't come any closer," Meng Ling said, backing away. "Please leave me a little hope, okay?"

"Lingling, Lingling," another person called out indistinctly, smiling and stretching out his hands towards her as he slowly ran over. Meng Ling seemed to want to stop him, but after thinking for a moment, she glanced at Ouyang, giving him a long, gentle look, and then suddenly turned and ran inside.

"Meng Ling!" Ouyang shouted and chased after him. I followed closely behind him, but the person who was slurring his words stopped, swaying in place with a confused expression, as if he couldn't understand what was happening. I thought he was a bit strange and glanced at him a few more times. He met my gaze, grinning foolishly, a long trail of drool hanging from one corner of his mouth. This person seemed to be an idiot. I didn't have time to look any further before I ran into the abandoned factory.

The factory was empty, the floor was covered with a thick layer of machine oil and coal ash, and piles of scrap steel bars were scattered everywhere. Ouyang and I searched through one factory room after another, but Meng Ling seemed to have vanished into thin air and was nowhere to be found.

"What exactly happened to Meng Ling?" Ouyang took out his phone, checked the time, and asked me with a frown. "I felt something was off yesterday. What did you want to talk to her about?"

I didn't know how to answer and was thinking of a reason when a "click" sound suddenly came from somewhere to my left. Ouyang and I exchanged a glance and immediately ran towards that spot.

There was a pile of steel bars there, and behind them was a small door. We went back and forth through it several times but couldn't find it. Through that small door were several tall factory buildings. I went into one of them but didn't find anything. When I turned around, I realized that Ouyang was gone, which made me a little panicked. I suddenly realized that I was standing alone in an abandoned building. The surroundings were empty, the light was very dim, and a sense of decay filled the entire space.

"Ouyang!" I shouted, retreating back the way I came. My voice echoed in the empty house, making me even more uneasy.

Emerging from the workshop, I looked around but still couldn't find Ouyang. The sky grew increasingly dark, and all was silent. The grass amidst the steel bars displayed an unusual vigor, sprouting in clumps from every crevice. These green creatures, however, did not bring prosperity to this desolate place; instead, they added to the atmosphere of bleakness. I unconsciously softened my steps, as if afraid of disturbing something, yet unsure what I might be disturbing.

"Ouyang?" I called out softly a few more times, but no one answered.

I felt even more guilty, and hurriedly searched through the empty factory buildings. I decided to ignore Ouyang and leave this place first. I walked back along the door I remembered coming in through.

One door, one factory building, another door, another factory building, black upon black, with occasional open spaces like courtyards between the factories. All around were dark, dirty walls. I walked for a long time, but I could never escape the encirclement of these houses and doors.

I got lost. I've never been good at recognizing or remembering routes, and this time I finally learned my lesson.

The ceiling, walls, and floor were all black, and even the light streaming through the windows seemed tinged with that blackness. I gritted my teeth, trying to stop myself from trembling with fear. I didn't know what I was afraid of; in short, this feeling of being far from people sent shivers down my spine. It wasn't loneliness or solitude, but a genuine fear. Because I was far from people, no one would know what was happening here, no one would ask questions, and no one would help.

If someone died here, it would probably take a very long time for them to be discovered. This thought made me even more frightened; it seemed as if some corpse was hidden under those cold steel bars.

People shouldn't let their imaginations run wild, especially at times like this; scaring yourself is foolish and ridiculous. I tried to reassure myself that I wasn't really far from the crowd; Xu Xiaobing would arrive soon, and Ouyang, having not seen me, would definitely look for me. Besides, I still had my phone. I quickly pulled out my phone to dial Ouyang's number, but after glancing at the screen, I couldn't help but groan inwardly—not a single bar of signal. I tried dialing again, but it was useless; the phone simply wouldn't connect.

It's alright, they'll find me soon. I forced a smile, rallied my spirits, and continued trekking between the factory buildings.

As I passed through a courtyard for what felt like the umpteenth time, I suddenly heard a woman's sobbing. It was faint and low, seemingly right next to my ear at first, but upon closer listening, nothing could be heard. A woman's sobbing is usually a scare tactic in horror movies, and I never thought much of it. However, here and now, this faint sound chilled me to the bone. I forced myself to remain calm, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound in the wind. Gradually, I passed through two or three doors and entered a small room I had never seen before. It was much cleaner than the workshop. Several worn-out desks stood near the window. When I entered, the room was empty, but the faint sobbing became clearer; it was clearly coming from another door inside the room. I quietly stepped through that door and peeked out slightly.

It was a slightly larger room, the floor littered with scraps of paper. Meng Ling was facing the door, and Ouyang stood opposite her; I could only see his back. Meng Ling's round eyes were already wet with tears, and sobs were coming from her mouth. She pouted, as if she had suffered endless grievances, only crying and saying nothing. Seeing Ouyang made me feel slightly relieved. I was about to go out and greet them, but after seeing Meng Ling's expression, I hesitated and went back inside.

Am I eavesdropping? I hesitated as I peeked out, feeling that my behavior was dishonest, but I really wanted to know what was going on.

"Stop crying, what happened?" Ouyang's voice had lost its usual lively and humorous tone, and sounded somewhat heavy.

Meng Ling said nothing, she just cried her heart out.

Ouyang was a very patient person; he didn't say anything more and let Meng Ling continue crying. I, on the other hand, felt very impatient and almost wanted to jump out and ask what was going on. If it were Xu Xiaobing crying there, I definitely would have done so, but it was Meng Ling, a creature I'm still not sure is even human, so I held back.

Meng Ling cried for what seemed like an eternity. She seemed to have cried enough. She wiped away her tears, sighed, and slowly raised her head to look at Ouyang while still crying.

I thought she was about to speak, so I quickly focused my attention and listened carefully.

After staring for about a minute or two, she finally spoke. Before she spoke, the sorrowful expression on her tear-streaked face suddenly turned into a self-deprecating bitter smile: "If this hadn't happened, I'm afraid I would never have dared to say it in my entire life."