Chapter 7

Yun Chun woke from her dream, opening her eyes with a hint of dismay as she stared blankly at the ceiling.

Her wrists still seemed to carry the ache of being bound, circled by a dense numbness. But on closer inspection, it felt more like the icy chill from when the other had seized both her wrists in one hand, pressing just hard enough to send a prickling itch through her skin.

Even her arms retained a trace of the other’s body heat, leaving her in a daze.

But Yun Chun knew the other had left.

In this dream, they hadn’t done anything. The other had simply held her, then slipped away quietly at some unknown moment.

This time, though, she had heard the other’s voice.

It was beautiful.

Like a night-blooming cereus unfurling alone in the dead of a silent night.

Stunning, but gone in an instant.

The same could be said for people.

Yun Chun slowly lifted her hand, her vacant gaze drifting from the ceiling down to her wrist. Faint purple veins traced delicately from the base toward her palm beneath her fair skin, yet there wasn’t a single mark from being gripped. Abruptly, Yun Chun brought her wrist to her nose and sniffed gently.

A faint fragrance lingered.

It was the scent of her own shower gel.

Not the aroma left by the other’s fingertips.

Yun Chun pulled her hand away and sniffed the air, wondering if something real had happened, it would surely leave a scent alien to this room. But after a couple of sniffs, all she caught were the familiar smells: the acrid remnants of burnt mosquito coils, the hollow whiff of incense from the bedside table, and the neighbor’s cooking drifting through the crack in the open window… Nothing belonging uniquely to the other.

Her breathing grew shallow as a thought struck her. Yun Chun dashed into the bathroom, bracing her hands on either side of the sink and leaning in to peer closely at her reflection in the mirror.

The dark circles under her eyes were still there. Yun Chun let out a breath even as she frowned to herself: Was this the only proof of the other’s existence?

Proof that there was really a ghost at her side. Proof that last night’s dream had been real, not just her imagination. Proof that…

Why bother proving any of it?

Right—why prove it at all?

What was she trying to prove?

Yun Chun straightened up a little.

A sliver of morning light pierced the bathroom, chasing away some of the gloom in the cramped space. The beam fell directly on Yun Chun, harsh and bright like a rift tearing across the sky.

It split her in two, her thoughts clashing amid the shifting light.

Did she still not believe the other truly existed?

It seemed that way.

The other appeared and vanished without a trace. Yun Chun didn’t even know her name or what she looked like. Who else would believe there was a ghost haunting her?

Outside, the sun climbed in mere seconds, its orange glow blocked by towering buildings until the light vanished.

At that exact moment,

Yun Chun’s eyes gleamed in the mirror.

It felt like… there really was someone.

~~~

After asking the breakfast shop owner for Master Xu’s address, Yun Chun grabbed two steamers of meat buns and headed straight over.

When you needed a favor, it paid to be polite.

She knocked on Xu Lanmeng’s door. When Xu Lanmeng opened it and saw Yun Chun standing there, not a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes—as if she’d been expecting her.

Xu Lanmeng turned away with a smile as she held the door open. “I see twenty bucks didn’t do the trick.”

Yun Chun flashed a smile of her own. She stepped inside as casually as if it were her own home, shutting the door behind her with natural ease. As she followed Xu Lanmeng into the living room, she held up the buns. “Master, you haven’t had breakfast yet, right? Here—fresh-out-of-the-steamer meat buns. Give them a try.”

Xu Lanmeng shot her a glance before sinking into the guest sofa and picking up her tea mug. “I’m not in the mood for meat buns today.”

Yun Chun’s smile froze.

She stood rooted to the spot, slowly lowering the hand holding the steamers.

Talk about awkward…

If she’d known favors required this kind of gesture yesterday, she would’ve gritted her teeth and shelled out those extra eleven bucks!

Now she’d wasted sixteen for nothing.

Yun Chun’s careful budgeting lay in ruins.

She shuffled over to the coffee table and set the buns down, wincing as she said, “What would you like then, Master? I’ll go buy it.”

Perhaps noticing the pained, crumpled expression on Yun Chun’s face, Xu Lanmeng said flatly, “Never mind.”

“I’ve already eaten,” she added.

She gestured to the sofa beside her, inviting Yun Chun to sit.

Once Yun Chun had settled in, Xu Lanmeng wasted no time on pleasantries. “You came all this way just to bring me buns? Or do you need something? I seem to remember you telling me yesterday morning that you didn’t need my help.”

Yun Chun felt embarrassed inside, but she kept a perfectly calm face, laying on the flattery thick. “That’s because I had no idea yesterday morning that you were Master Xu! If I’d known you were the legendary Master Xu from the rumors, of course I would’ve said yes right away!”

The admiration in her voice was practically overflowing—though in truth, she’d only learned about Xu Lanmeng from Wenwen the day before, and even then, she’d dismissed her as overhyped.

Yun Chun sounded utterly sincere, but Xu Lanmeng just smiled faintly, unconvinced that someone who’d spoken of her that way yesterday would flip so quickly.

“Didn’t I scam you out of your money?” she asked.

Yun Chun smiled. “Ignorance is bliss. You’re magnanimous, Master—don’t hold it against me.”

Xu Lanmeng was too lazy to argue the point. She took a sip of her tea. “So, what do you want?”

Yun Chun’s expression turned serious in an instant. She hesitated for a couple of seconds, choosing her words carefully before asking, “Do ghosts really exist in this world?”

Xu Lanmeng sidestepped the question. “Depends on what you believe.”

She looked at Yun Chun with a smile, her expression saying plainly: You’ve already got your answer in your heart, so why ask me?

Yun Chun pressed her lips together. Of course she believed—they’d kissed, they’d embraced.

But during that embrace, only she had seen the other. No one else could confirm she was a ghost, that she was real.

She had come here seeking confirmation from Xu Lanmeng.

Beating around the bush wouldn’t get her anywhere, so after a moment’s hesitation, Yun Chun rephrased. “You told me yesterday that a ghost is haunting me. I want to know… why is she after me?”

Xu Lanmeng eyed her. “You’re trying to get me to answer your first question with this one?”

Yun Chun didn’t hide it. “Yes.”

Xu Lanmeng set down her mug. “If you don’t believe in ghosts, then my answer won’t mean anything to you. Just like yesterday morning when I told you one was haunting you, and you didn’t buy it. So… what happened yesterday to make you come running here asking me this? To get me to admit ghosts are real?”

Yun Chun lowered her gaze. “What happened doesn’t matter. What’s important is… I believe you now.”

She looked up. “I believe ghosts exist in this world.”

Xu Lanmeng smiled. “There you go—you’ve got your answer.”

Yun Chun’s eyes snapped up, widening slightly. “So there are ghosts?”

“What’s the point of making me confirm it over and over?” Xu Lanmeng had assumed Yun Chun’s repeated probing was about the haunting ghost. She paused before adding, “I only sensed ghost qi on you. I didn’t see her myself, so I don’t know why she’s latched onto you.”

To Xu Lanmeng’s surprise, Yun Chun shook her head. “That’s not important.”

Under Xu Lanmeng’s watchful gaze, Yun Chun rose from the sofa and crouched down beside her. She rested both hands on Xu Lanmeng’s legs and tilted her head back. Her eyes sparkled brightly—not from the sun’s reflection, but from a thin sheen of glistening tears.

Her voice came out slowly, trembling despite her efforts to steady it, laced with an unspoken longing. “Can you… let me see my mom?”

“…”

Yun Chun’s tentative question hung in the air, her hopeful eyes leaving Xu Lanmeng silent.

She hadn’t expected this. Yun Chun wasn’t here about the ghost haunting her, but…

Xu Lanmeng’s heart stuttered for a beat. She looked down at Yun Chun.

Who was still crouched there by her side.

She was tall enough that even squatting, she filled the space between the coffee table and the sofa. And yet, for some reason, Xu Lanmeng suddenly saw her as small and fragile—a single embrace would be enough to envelop her in endless warmth.

Xu Lanmeng stayed quiet for a beat too long, and the light in Yun Chun’s eyes began to fade with the passing seconds.

But she wasn’t ready to give up. She grabbed the edge of Xu Lanmeng’s pants in her fingertips, her veins standing out from the restrained emotion. Her parched throat rasped as she pressed, “Since ghosts exist… does that mean I can see my mom one more time?”

Xu Lanmeng broke her silence. She took hold of Yun Chun’s wrist and guided her up onto the sofa.

Then she asked, “How many years ago… did your mom pass?”

Yun Chun’s eyes dropped to the shadow of the sun on the floor.

The sudden question left her at a loss for words. In her heart, her mother’s death felt like it had happened just the previous second—one moment she was fine, the next the hospital called. As long as she didn’t pick up, her mom was still there, getting treatment.

Thinking back now, though, so much time had passed.

Enough for moss to grow over the wound in her heart.

This question forced her to peel back a layer of that moss and examine how old it had become.

Yun Chun deflated. “Seven years.”

Xu Lanmeng let out a soft “Oh,” her tone almost consoling. “She might have reincarnated long ago by now.”

Yun Chun blinked in a daze. Reincarnation was good. She hoped her mom had been reborn into a kind family—ideally a wealthy one, so she could suffer less.

Yun Chun prayed for it in her heart, even as her mouth voiced something selfish. “So… no chance to see her anymore?”

Xu Lanmeng’s voice stayed low, as if sharing in her pain. “It’ll take some time to calculate. If she’s still lingering in this world, there might be a chance.”

Her mood was so low that it struck Yun Chun as strange. Xu Lanmeng did this kind of work, witnessing life and death on a scale that rivaled any hospital doctor. Even if she couldn’t be completely detached from it, she shouldn’t have been this affected, right?

But the odd feeling only flickered briefly in Yun Chun’s mind.

Xu Lanmeng asked her again, “How did she die?”

“Cancer.”

“Natural causes?”

“No, she pulled out her oxygen tube herself. It was… a release.”

Yun Chun gave a simple summary of the cause of death, but the details hit Xu Lanmeng hard.

Xu Lanmeng’s fingers tightened slightly, her scattered gaze sharpening as she thought for a moment. “That still counts as suicide. And people who commit suicide… they suffer a bit after death.”

Yun Chun blinked in confusion.

She’d never died herself, nor had she dealt with anything like this. She had no idea why Xu Lanmeng would say that suicides faced hardship afterward.

How much hardship?

She didn’t want her mother to suffer any more.

Noticing the quickened breathing beside her, Xu Lanmeng added, “But the circumstances are special. She might not face any punishment.”

Yun Chun’s suspended heart eased at Xu Lanmeng’s words, though a thread of tension lingered.

“Give me one of your mother’s belongings and two strands of your hair,” Xu Lanmeng said. “I’ll need some time to locate her.” She paused, then added, “But the results might not be ideal.”

Yun Chun made no further demands.

The chance to see her mother—even if it was slim—made her happy.

Yun Chun went home briefly.

She kept all her mother’s belongings in a box. Since Xu Lanmeng had said the more cherished the item, the better it would work, Yun Chun pulled out a small box from inside. Nestled within was a jade bracelet.

It was a fake, really.

Back in those days, how could her mother have afforded a real jade bracelet?

But her mother had loved it dearly. As far back as Yun Chun could remember, she’d always worn it.

Yun Chun handed the bracelet to Xu Lanmeng. As Xu Lanmeng held it up to her eye, squinting closely at it, Yun Chun said, “Don’t bother—it’s fake.”

Xu Lanmeng’s expression shifted slightly, but she said nothing. Instead, she asked, “This was something your mother treasured?”

“Of course,” Yun Chun replied. “She wore it all the time.”

A faint smile tugged at Xu Lanmeng’s lips. “Alright, this one it is.”

She reached out, plucking two hairs from Yun Chun’s head and slowly wrapping them around the jade bracelet. “Want to exchange contact info? I’ll let you know if there’s any news.”

Yun Chun murmured her agreement.

They added each other quickly.

“How much?” Yun Chun asked Xu Lanmeng.

Xu Lanmeng was carefully placing the bracelet back in its box, handling it gently as if afraid of breaking it now that she knew it was fake. Hearing the question, she glanced at the steamed buns on the table, their steam long gone. “For bringing me those buns, I’ll charge you two thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight.”

Why the sudden jump of two thousand? Were the fees different for different services?

Yun Chun only wondered briefly and said nothing, nodding. “Okay.”

Xu Lanmeng raised an eyebrow curiously, chuckling. “What’s this? No calling me a robber today?”

Yun Chun was transferring the money. “If two thousand eight hundred lets me see my mom, I’d give you all my savings to see her more.”

The smile on Xu Lanmeng’s face faltered for a moment. “My prices are fixed. I won’t charge you a penny extra.”

Once the transfer notification came through, Xu Lanmeng sent the money back.

“Forgot to mention—payment’s after the job’s done.”

Yun Chun pressed her lips together.

She had considered that when paying, but hadn’t asked. She was afraid… afraid it wouldn’t work, and her money would be gone forever.

So she’d just sent it straight over.

Staring at the refunded amount, Yun Chun let out a slow breath. “Will it work?”

Xu Lanmeng set the box with the bracelet on the deep red cabinet. Beside the box—right on the cabinet top—a stick of longevity incense burned, its thin trail of smoke curling upward, ethereal and faint. Yun Chun couldn’t tell if Xu Lanmeng had lit it for herself or someone else.

Xu Lanmeng didn’t answer her question. Instead, after setting the box down, she turned to Yun Chun and asked, “Don’t you want to deal with that ghost clinging to you?”

Yun Chun hesitated.

Even though she’d thrown those words at it last night, she truly hadn’t considered getting rid of it.

Besides…

“She said you can’t handle her,” Yun Chun said.

Xu Lanmeng tilted her head. “Did she?”

“You’ve talked to her?”

Yun Chun nodded. “Yeah.”

So she’d come here to confirm the ghost’s existence just to double-check if she could find her mother?

Xu Lanmeng fell silent for a moment. “Is she that powerful?”

It knew about her and had even bragged to Yun Chun like that.

Yun Chun shook her head. “I don’t know.”

For some reason, Yun Chun didn’t want Xu Lanmeng targeting her. She explained, “She’s a ghost now. A little overconfidence is normal.”

Xu Lanmeng didn’t seem too concerned. “If I can’t get rid of her, that’s fine. But I can make her stop bothering you. What do you think?”

Yun Chun didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Still five hundred?”

Xu Lanmeng: “One thousand eight.”

“You just said fixed prices!”

“There’s no price list. How do you know this isn’t fixed?”

“You said five hundred yesterday!”

“That was for the buns you were gonna buy me. Did you?”

“…Five bucks doesn’t count?”

“I can give those five bucks back right now.”

Yun Chun didn’t want to haggle over five bucks with Xu Lanmeng. “Didn’t you say no buns means eight hundred?”

Xu Lanmeng pondered. “Did I?”

Yun Chun let out a soft scoff. She knew it—probably just a money grab.

Money had to be spent wisely; she wasn’t about to be a sucker.

Yun Chun griped inwardly but politely refused on the surface. “Master, just focus on finding my mom. I’ll handle her myself.”

Xu Lanmeng: “How?”

She eyed Yun Chun. “You aren’t enchanted or something, are you? Can’t bear to let her go?”

Yun Chun was speechless.

Bear to let go of what? She couldn’t bear to part with that over a thousand bucks.

Not the ghost itself.