Satin rouge

Chapitre 4

"No, it's nothing."

"Okay, let's hear what the next friend has to say. Hello—"

A jarring exchange of sounds erupted. Could it be...?

"Hello, hehe, how are you?" It's Qiu Hong! Qiu Hong is calling again! My heart jumped into my throat. I wanted to say a million things, but I couldn't say anything.

"Hello, this is Qiu Hong, do you remember me?" She actually started introducing herself. She even asked if I remembered her? Of course I remember!

"I want to say that your story was very interesting, but it's a bit of a shame that you forgot to mention something."

"What is it?" I knew what she was going to say.

"That brand. Hehehehe."

"How did you know?" I tried to calm myself down, almost forgetting that this was still a live broadcast studio, and I was doing a live program for tens of thousands of people in the city.

"...Hehe, I thought you'd forgotten. Come on, let me tell you, open the drawer in front of you, it's in there, hahahaha..." She laughed shrilly. I stared at the drawer in front of me for a long time, then opened it.

The Corpse Tablet! The Corpse Tablet is inside!

I jumped up and rushed out of the studio, completely unaware of the countless hotline indicator lights flashing incessantly on the twelve lines.

"What the hell are you doing?" The boss slammed his fist on the table so loudly that it drowned out his booming voice for a moment.

I stood in front of the table, barely daring to breathe.

"Speak! What exactly are you trying to do?!" the boss continued. "Do you even know what you're doing? You abandoned the live broadcast and ran off all by yourself! Give me a proper explanation!"

"I……"

"What about you?!" The leader's fat cheeks jiggled, spittle flying everywhere. "Speak!"

"I...I didn't mean to..." I really didn't know what to say.

"You didn't do it on purpose? So you fucking accidentally ran out while doing a live broadcast? Feng Xiaotao, do you think I'm a three-year-old? Do you even want to keep your job?!"

I was speechless; even I found the excuse utterly absurd and laughable. Perhaps exhausted from his tirade, the enraged boss sat down for a moment to rest, then said in a deep voice, "Tell me, where were you that day?"

I had a sudden inspiration: "A friend of mine was in a car accident, and they said it was very serious, so I went to the hospital because, judging from his family's tone, it might be the last... the last time I see him..."

"Which friend? What's their name? Where do they work?"

"It's... Feng Xiaoqi, a reporter from the city TV station. My classmate and good friend from university." I finally realized how difficult it is to make up a name in an instant. I just happened to think of Xiaoqi, so I used him as a substitute, since he deserved to die anyway.

"Is he dead?" The boss's anger subsided considerably, and his tone softened immediately, indicating that his words had had an effect.

"No, it's massive bleeding; they've been undergoing emergency treatment."

"If you're not dead, why didn't you come back? You ran off without a word, without even making a phone call."

“He was…he was bleeding heavily, and the blood bank was running low on his blood type. I happen to have the same blood type as him, AB.” I started to admire myself a little. Others’ lies would reveal more and more flaws the more they told them, but mine would become more and more convincing the more I told them. “So they kept me here until he was out of danger.”

"Hmm." The boss stopped talking. I didn't dare look at his face, but I could tell he was staring at me the whole time.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” he finally said, “is what you just said true or not?”

"Of course it's true." I widened my eyes, putting on the most aggrieved and confused expression I'd ever had since birth, as if I'd suffered a great injustice and insult.

“Alright.” The boss nodded. “I trust you this time. I hope I haven’t misjudged you. Do you know how badly your actions yesterday have affected us? This is last week’s ratings report,” he handed me a piece of paper. “Last week, Xiao Tao’s Ghost Stories’ ratings surpassed Music Bible’s. What you did yesterday has seriously damaged our station’s reputation. I’m reminding you again, we are a commercial radio station, and our listeners are our gods. Since you’re going to make a living this way, you can’t put your job aside for personal matters—not even the biggest personal matter! As the station manager, I’m responsible to all the shareholders on the board. As the program host, even if you’re unwilling to take responsibility for your own future, you should be responsible for all the listeners who support you. So, I hope that when you do anything, you’ll think about all the listeners who enthusiastically support you, even if you don’t consider your job.”

"Yes, yes, thank you, Director!" I nodded and bowed hurriedly, finally getting through another hurdle, and couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you for your understanding, Director. I promise I won't do it again next time. Even if it's my own father who needs me, I won't go."

"No need. I'll still go after the show." The boss probably didn't want to hear my rambling, insincere talk, and waved his hand impatiently. I knew that meant get lost, so I slunk away. Unexpectedly, I was stopped again at the door: "Hey, I heard the show the other day. What's the story with that hospital?"

"Then? Oh, that was just something I made up randomly, there's no such thing at all."

"It can't be true, right?"

"Of course not." I'm not that stupid.

In fact, I went back to check the live stream today when there were more people around and I felt braver, but I didn't see the sign that scared me half to death yesterday. I asked several DJs who worked on the show, and they all said they didn't see it either. I started to wonder if I had seen it wrong or if I was just too nervous and hallucinating. Of course, I was just fooling myself, but that was the only thought I could have at the time.

Maybe my lie worked; even after such a huge blunder, the boss was surprisingly accommodating. But I think it's more likely that my show is currently at its peak, and he couldn't very well fire the host of the number one rated program, could he? So despite the complaints, everything went back to normal. Haha, I'm a pillar of the station now, a secret thrill running through me.

During my lunch break, I was engrossed in organizing my manuscript in my office when Wei Weiwei suddenly came over: "Hey, Xiao Tao, I have something to ask you."

"What is it?" I stood up and forced a smile. Ever since I was transferred from the Music Encyclopedia to the news team, Wei Weiwei and I have basically had no contact. When we meet, we at most nod politely, but we never speak. However, since the listenership of Xiao Tao's Ghost Stories program skyrocketed, Wei Weiwei has been looking at me strangely. Today, she actually took the initiative to find me, so I have to be very careful. They say that women can do anything when driven by strong jealousy?

"You know what? I've always been a very attentive listener to you." Wei Weiwei smiled warmly, but I really couldn't figure out what she was up to.

"Really? You like listening to ghost stories too?" I said, feigning nonchalance.

"Yeah, hey, tell me, when you're telling a story, are you ever scared yourself?"

I stubbornly replied, "Of course I'm not afraid. Why would I be afraid of what I created myself?"

"Really? It's amazing how much you know. I never would have guessed you had this talent when we did shows together before." She actually found a chair and sat down quite casually. Since she was so generous, I couldn't continue being cold, right? I asked myself. "Ha, didn't you know? A lot of the ghost stories that used to circulate at the provincial university were made up by me."

"Really?" She stared wide-eyed, her face full of disbelief.

"Of course. For example, the hanged ghost who knocks on the dormitory door every night to borrow a pen, the black handprints in the swimming pool, the basketball that bounces by itself at night, those are all stories I made up." I casually mentioned a few of the more famous stories from back then that I still remembered.

"Oh my, it's you!" she exclaimed in surprise. "I thought it was true, especially the story about the black handprint. It scared us so much that we were afraid to go swimming at the gym."

"Hehe." I couldn't help but feel a little smug.

"And then there's basketball. I remember for a while, a lot of girls would walk back to their dorms in groups after studying at night, passing by the basketball court. I did too. The girls in my dorm at the time talked about those things in a very dramatic way, saying they had seen them with their own eyes."

"Hehe, they're just trying to make their ghost stories more believable. It would be strange if they actually saw them." As I said this, my heart skipped a beat, and I thought of something, but then I remembered something else.

“That’s true.” She smiled. “It seems pretty silly now. But the story you told was quite scary; several times after get off work, I was too scared to go home alone after hearing it.”

.

"Hmm..." I murmured. What exactly is wrong?

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" She noticed my absent-mindedness, and I quickly snapped out of it: "Nothing. Did you listen to yesterday's program?"

"Yes, I listened to yesterday's program. I heard you suddenly skipped work while doing a live broadcast, is that true?"

"Yes, yes," I quickly told her a story about Xiao Qi's car accident, and so on. This was the second time I'd told it, and it was much more fluent and believable, leaving her completely stunned.

"Oh dear, this is quite a serious broadcasting accident. I thought you'd been scared away." She sighed. "Did you really go to that hospital?"

"Of course not. Why would I be scared away!" I denied it outright. "We did go to that hospital, but all those strange things were made up by me." I quickly changed the subject, "Hey, I heard the listenership survey results came out last week?"

Her expression changed subtly, almost imperceptibly, before she smiled and said, "Yes. I came here specifically to congratulate you."

"What are you congratulating me on?" I asked, knowing the answer already.

"You don't know? Your 'Little Tao's Ghost Stories' is now the number one talk show on our station."

"Really? I really didn't know." I looked at her, wondering why this woman, who usually had such a frosty expression towards me, had suddenly become so friendly and approachable. Was it just to break the ice and build a better relationship, or did she have other motives? Or was I overthinking it?

“You’re the most popular NJ on our station now. No wonder even after such a big accident, the boss didn’t dare fire you. If it were me, I’m afraid…”

"If it were you, he probably wouldn't dare utter a sound. I'd get a real dressing down. Haha..."

"You deserve it!" She pouted, making an angry face, and stood up. "I'm not talking to you anymore. You go about your business. See you later."

"Okay. Bye-bye." I nodded repeatedly.

I can't figure out what Wei Weiwei is up to, and I'm too lazy to think about it. I just feel that she's not as simple as she seems on the surface. But that's not the main thing. The main thing is that from what she said to me today, I sensed something terrifying. Yet, I can't quite put my finger on what it is.

"...Before the commercial break, I want to apologize to all listeners for the sudden interruption of the program on Monday. Actually, we had a minor technical glitch that day, and the main responsibility lies with me. So, in the second half, you only heard music and no program. Here, I want to say sorry to all the listeners who were waiting in front of their radios, and I assure you that the problem has been resolved and it will definitely not happen again. Alright, this is Dadi Radio, this is Xiao Tao's Ghost Talk. We'll take a short break, and see you after the commercials."

I turned off my microphone, turned on the ad recording, and rushed out of the live broadcast room.

Of course, I didn't just make a promise and immediately repeat the same mistake; I was just in a hurry to use the restroom. Although there's no rule against NJs going to the restroom during commercial breaks, it seems very few people actually do it. Probably to avoid accidents; it's always safer to stay in the studio. But I'm the kind of person who doesn't like following rules; the more unconventional something is, the more enthusiastic I am about doing it. Besides, because of the high listenership, the number of commercials during my "Little Tao's Ghost Stories" segment has increased significantly, almost double what it was at the beginning. What's there to be afraid of? Coming out of the restroom, I ran down the corridor and saw Wei Weiwei fiddling with her phone in the distance. What was she doing here so late? I waved to her, and she seemed annoyed that I dared to come out, shaking her head helplessly before breaking into a smile—a smile that seemed to erase all grudges.

I ran back to the live broadcast room, panting, and there was still a little bit of the ad left. Hey, I couldn't help but feel smug about my gamble. Countless phone signals were already flashing on the hotline. I steadied my breathing, slowly turned down the ad volume, and said, "Alright, now it's time for our hotline again. Before we get to the first call, I want to tell you all that starting today, the first person to call in will be our lucky listener for this episode and will receive a free pair of Jinding brand sports sunglasses or a pair of Jinding brand casual shoes, either from our program's sponsor, Jinding Company. Okay, now let's hear who our first lucky listener is. Hello?"

Hello

"A girl's voice. Damn, why are they all little girls? Aren't girls supposed to be timid? I don't understand."

"Oh, it seems to be a very unfamiliar listener. May I ask your name?"

"My name is Xiaoyi."

"Congratulations! Congratulations to Xiaoyi for becoming the first lucky listener since the start of our program. Let's have our lucky listener say a few words."

"Um... I called to ask Xiao Tao about what happened last time. That Qiu Hong is so scary. What brand was she talking about in the drawer?"

"Ha," I chuckled, "There's no brand name. That Qiu Hong... that listener named Qiu Hong is a very playful person. But anyway, she's one of our program's most enthusiastic listeners. We had a bit of a technical problem after she called that day. Anyway, thanks, Xiao Yi. I wonder if Xiao Yi wants the glasses or the shoes?" I quickly changed the subject.

"Um...I want shoes!"

"Ha. I've got trouble with Xiaoyi, because you still need to tell me your shoe size and what size you are? You're the first lucky listener of our Xiaotao's Ghost Stories, so I absolutely can't neglect you. I can't just give you any random pair, right?"

"Then, I'll take the sunglasses..."

"Hmm, you've changed your mind. Looks like you're a girl who knows how to protect herself. Let's ask Xiaoyi one more time, are you sure you don't want the shoes but want the sunglasses?"

"Yes, sunglasses will do."

"Okay. Please come to the front desk of our radio station next Monday to collect your lucky gift. Our address is No. 3 Northwest Road, No. 3 Northwest Road, remember that? Since we can display your phone number, you just need to tell the front desk your phone number. Understand?"

"Understood."

"Okay. Xiaoyi, would you like to say something to all the listeners?"

"Hmm? Hehe, it's nothing."

"Ha, okay, let's hear what the next friend has to say. Hopefully it'll be a thrilling and good story. Hello..."

Ever since that incident, I've felt a chill every time I pass by the live broadcast studio. To be honest, I've been constantly on edge, worried that Qiu Hong might suddenly appear. Today, every time I was answering calls, every time I saw the twelve flashing indicator lights, I hesitated, wondering which call to answer. I was afraid, afraid to hear Qiu Hong's hoarse voice, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Maybe it was the terrible experience at the hospital that day, or maybe it was her often terrifying, director-like predictions. But to my great surprise, Qiu Hong didn't appear at all during the program today.

I kept that incident at the hospital a secret, not only from others but also from myself. Whenever someone asked if it was true, I firmly denied it, forcing myself to deny it from the bottom of my heart, compelling myself to believe it never happened. Perhaps this is called escapism—escaping this terrible experience, telling myself that this is not something a clear-headed person living in reality should accept or experience. As for that brand, I told myself I must have been mistaken; there was absolutely no reason for that brand to be in the drawer of the table in the live-streaming room.

However, at the time I didn't know that the more I tried to escape, the more afraid I became, and the harder it would be for me to accept it once it actually happened.

Finally, I'm out of the live stream. No Qiu Hong today, no that damned brand, everything's normal, everything's over, just as I wished. Today's story was passable, but without Qiu Hong, it didn't feel as terrifying as the previous ones. Maybe it's just my feeling, I comforted myself. Fortunately, several listeners told good stories, keeping the atmosphere lively. I strolled into the office alone and found Wei Weiwei still there. Her desk was facing away from the door, so she didn't know I was in, engrossed in writing something. Perhaps because I was in such a good mood today, and because our relationship had improved so much lately—even more so than when we worked together before—I felt a childish urge to play a prank on her. So I tiptoed up behind her, still oblivious, and shouted from behind her head, "Wow—"

"Ah..." she exclaimed softly as she stood up, but quickly calmed down, giving me a sidelong glance: "What are you doing?"

"Hey, I saw a female ghost sitting swaggering in our dear Sister Wei's seat after get off work, and I couldn't help but come and speak up for justice."

"Give me a break, you righteous charlatan. Who's the female ghost here?"