Chapter 7: Looking Down from a Height

“That’s really too much.”

The Nurse, pressing her left cheek that was red and swollen, complained: “If it were anyone else, that blow really might have fractured their cheekbone.”

To be precise, she could no longer be addressed as “the Nurse,” because she was no longer wearing a nurse’s uniform. Instead, she was the textbook image of a female ghost: a deathly pale complexion, a straight white tube dress, disheveled hair, and a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth—that was Qi Ran’s handiwork from her moment of terror.

Her appearance had changed again. This time, she wore Tao Xiao’s face.

“What exactly are you trying to do?” Qi Ran stood in front of the wardrobe, looking at the female ghost sitting amidst the scattered clothes, holding her face with a pitifully wronged expression. She took a deep breath and sighed. “Is it because you didn’t manage to scare me before, so you’re not satisfied and had to try again? Then I apologize. I was too scared of you, alright? What is this, some weird ghostly pride? Do you guys have some kind of KPI to meet? Does your pay get docked if you don’t scare a certain number of people each month?”

She was genuinely terrified; her legs were still involuntarily weak.

Miss Ghost crawled out of the wardrobe and, with an air of extreme familiarity, sat down on Qi Ran’s bed, smiling brightly: “Don’t you think you should be a little grateful to me? Without me, your current… unusual state would have already been exposed, silly girl.”

Qi Ran frowned: “What do you mean?”

“That woman, Bai Sangzhu—her driver is no ordinary person, you know? You fell under his spell the moment you got into the car, before you even settled in. Without my help, you’d have probably blabbed and spilled everything out completely,” Miss Ghost extended a finger, pointing at Qi Ran. “And then, don’t expect to have any peace and quiet.”

“Were they looking for you?”

“Yes.” Miss Ghost’s expression looked very unconcerned.

“What does that have to do with me?” Qi Ran’s tone was rather heated.

“Of course it has to do with you. If I leave, your true form will be exposed immediately, right?” Miss Ghost’s tone was casual. “You haven’t forgotten what your real appearance is right now, have you?”

Qi Ran paused. Indeed, it was impossible for her to forget that flower blooming before her eyes.

“Bai Sangzhu didn’t discover the problems with me?” After calming down, she thought for a moment and asked again, trying to regain some initiative in the conversation.

“Of course not.” Miss Ghost was smug.

“What exactly was that method? If I encounter that situation again, how do I guard against it?”

“No need to worry.” Miss Ghost rested her chin on her hand, her feet, which she had tucked up onto the bed, gently swaying. “As long as I’m here, that kind of petty trick can’t pose any threat.”

“What is it you need me to do? You couldn’t have saved me purely out of kindness, right?”

“You’re more polite than I imagined. That’s a good thing.”

Miss Ghost praised her.

Qi Ran frowned slightly. She realized she could read the smile on Miss Ghost’s face. It was the kind of smile that thought everything was within one’s own predictions, a condescending smile. It was like an old, experienced teacher smilingly watching his student try to be clever, weaving lies and stories to explain his tardiness; or like a beautiful young girl from a wealthy family showing a polite smile when faced with a timid boy who didn’t dare meet her eyes—Would people show contempt or disdain for a monkey in a zoo? No. They would only laugh and watch the comical monkey jump up and down. Even if the monkey angrily struck the wire mesh, it would only earn gasps and laughter. Perhaps, in a moment of charity, they might even throw it a banana as a reward for putting on a good show.

This was subconscious superiority, the feeling that the other party and oneself were not creatures from the same world. There wasn’t even contempt; it was more of a tolerance that protected the other’s self-esteem. It wasn’t kindness, just a display of politeness.

Qi Ran was no stranger to such a smile; in fact, she was quite familiar with it. Every year during the New Year, her biological mother, Li Wanying, would arrange for the four of them to have a New Year’s Eve dinner together, usually in some famous, high-end hotel. This, of course, wasn’t because Li Wanying felt nostalgia or believed blood was thicker than water. Mother was simply enjoying the feeling of “I surpass you, Qi Jianguo, in every way, even in upbringing.” It was like soldiers after a victory gathering outside the barbed wire of a POW camp, strutting around and smugly admiring those wretched, down-on-their-luck fools.

Whenever Mother watched her chatting with Qi Xin, she would show just such a smile, perhaps asking a few polite questions for show—Qi Ran didn’t know if her own level of thinking had truly elevated or if she was just numb. In any case, she only found this mentality of her mother’s somewhat pitiful, even feeling a touch of sympathy for Qi Xin, who had to live day and night with such a mother.

Qi Ran looked at Miss Ghost sitting on her bed and confirmed a fact in her heart. Miss Ghost was absolutely not as easygoing as she appeared to be. Underneath her slightly eccentric attitude, she was essentially no different from Bai Sangzhu, the second daughter of the Bai Family, who had resorted to direct interrogation techniques upon their first meeting—If Miss Ghost still possessed strange methods like that middle-aged driver, she would use them on Qi Ran without a second thought, as efficiently and conveniently as using a tranquilizer gun on a sick monkey.

After organizing her thoughts, Qi Ran quickly came to a conclusion: Miss Ghost, at this moment, had no other choice, just like herself.

The reason she wasted time talking to Qi Ran was out of sheer necessity. She might have once been very formidable, but she was currently in a very awkward predicament. Dealing with that middle-aged driver hadn’t been as easy as she made it seem. That scare tactic wasn’t about revenge or a sick sense of humor; it was an attempt to bare her fangs and seize the initiative in their conversation… The more she acted this way, the more it proved that baring her fangs was all she could do right now, that she had no other recourse but to rely on Qi Ran.

Recognizing this, the stone hanging high in Qi Ran’s heart finally lowered a little—she was much more comfortable with this kind of well-founded exploitation than with kindness that had no anchor or support.

“You need to find a person first,” Miss Ghost said. “She is very important, both to me and to you… I don’t know much about her, only that her surname is Zuo, she lives in Pingjiang, very young, probably still a student.”

In Pingjiang, a city of twelve million people, find a girl only known by the surname Zuo? This couldn’t even be described as looking for a needle in a haystack.

Qi Ran didn’t immediately refute her, only saying: “That will be very difficult.”

She quickly figured it out. Since it was a collaboration, some sincerity needed to be shown.

“I will help you use some special methods to find her,” Miss Ghost added. “Don’t worry, nothing illegal.”

“Like the method that driver used? Are you going to turn into Professor X?”

Miss Ghost understood her sarcasm, and her smile became a bit strange: “You mean superpowers? No, our methods are much more direct than that.”

“Words are always weak. How about an actual experience first?”

…

The night in Pingjiang was filled with a special atmosphere. The streets were still bustling with traffic, cars shuttling back and forth, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights interweaving. Even the stars in the night sky paled in comparison, the brilliant display dotting the darkness. Looking down from a height, it was like a giant river formed by points of light.

The night breeze blew past, and the chill it brought seeped through her thin pajamas, the cold biting to the bone.

“I think we can plan this more carefully,” Qi Ran stood at the edge of the rooftop, just one step away from the void. The scenery below made her dizzy, and her voice trembled involuntarily. “We can find her without doing this, I mean it.”

“Since we’re already here.” Miss Ghost said with a hint of regret.

“What if someone sees this? I don’t want to be on the news tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, no one will see you.”

“You’re not just trying to get me to fall to my death so you can possess my body, are you? I’ve read Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.”

“You talk way too much. It’s only the fourteenth floor. How can you act so mature but be so timid? The first time I jumped, it was from a TV tower, one hundred fifty stories high,” Miss Ghost sighed. “Just think of it as bungee jumping, okay? Even if you fail, I’ll catch you.”

Qi Ran rolled her eyes. Fourteen floors didn’t sound high, but when she was truly standing there, her legs just wouldn’t stop trembling. This fear seemed to be etched into her very instincts.

“Last question. After I jump… what do I need to do?” She tried her utmost to keep her tone calm.

“Keep your eyes open. Look. Adapt to the feeling of falling. Feel it with your heart—it’s a kind of sensation. You’ll slowly understand. Don’t resist, just feel it.”

Miss Ghost’s words were still as vague as ever.

Qi Ran pressed her lips together, said nothing, just took a deep breath and took a step forward.

Then, a sense of weightlessness, overwhelming and all-consuming, swept over her.