Chapter Three: The Lonely Undead (Part Two)

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As the distant rumble of thunder rolled in, a moment later, the rain finally began to pour down in earnest. Thunder crackled through the air, and a sudden bolt of lightning split the night apart, snapping Shi Jun out of his intense gaming trance and back into reality.

“Insane! If it’s going to rain, just rain—why the thunder too?” With the game interrupted—even though he had a UPS installed—Shi Jun wasn’t willing to take the risk. If his computer got fried, wouldn’t that be a tragedy?

It looked like this downpour wasn’t going to stop any time soon. Shi Jun logged out of the game, powered down his computer, crept into the living room, checked the locks as usual, and unplugged every appliance in the house. Suddenly, he felt a pang of hunger. Slipping into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and took out his favorite spicy dried beef his mother had prepared, grabbed a bottle of beer, and quietly returned to his room without a sound.

As he ate, Shi Jun suddenly had the sense that a shadow flickered in the room. He thought his mother had gotten up, so he paid it no mind.

But after a while, he heard nothing. Puzzled, he walked to the living room door and glanced at his mother’s bedroom—the door was firmly shut. Was he seeing things? He shook his head and closed his own door as well.

In these few moments, his bedroom had become noticeably chillier, the lights seemed to dim, and the distorted shadow of the wardrobe stretched across the floor, adding a sinister air to the room.

Shi Jun sat at his desk, steadied himself, and reached out to pick up a piece of dried beef, just about to put it into his mouth, when he suddenly saw a shadow stir in the corner.

“Who’s there? Come out!” The words burst from his lips before he could stop himself.

His heart pounded, his mouth went dry, and every muscle in his body tensed involuntarily.

* * * * * * * *

“You can really see me?” A wildly ecstatic female voice sounded from the corner.

Shi Jun’s first instinct was to jump up, but his strength seemed to have vanished; his legs were numb and limp, and he couldn’t stand. “Am I seeing a ghost?” Cold sweat instantly drenched his back, but he couldn’t help but look cautiously in the direction of the voice.

A woman’s face, flushed with excitement, came into view. It seemed she’d been curled up in the corner’s shadow and now, hesitantly, she raised her head and took a few steps toward Shi Jun.

“Stop right there!” he shouted, quickly tossing the dried beef in his hand at her.

The beef passed through her as if she were solid, bounced off the wall, and fell. The woman shrank back but couldn’t suppress her joy, turning her face skyward toward the window, closing her eyes and pressing her hands together, murmuring, “Thank heaven! Someone can finally see me! Thank heaven…”

She looked to be about thirty, with plain—even somewhat unattractive—features, but she wore a neatly tailored navy skirt suit, her hair pinned in a bun at the back of her head, making her look older and more worn than her years. Now, the only striking thing about her otherwise unremarkable face—her eyes—were streaming with tears.

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Human or ghost? Shi Jun wondered. This was too bizarre—this was the eleventh floor of a modern building, after all; how could she have gotten in?

At first, Shi Jun had been truly frightened. Who wouldn’t be, if a stranger suddenly appeared late at night in a locked apartment so high up? But once he saw how frail and harmless the woman looked, much of his fear ebbed away.

“Hey! What’s the idea, sneaking into a grown man’s bedroom in the middle of the night? What do you want?” With his nerves settling, Shi Jun found his tongue again. And since the beef had passed through her, maybe she really wasn’t human. As the old saying goes, “If you’ve done nothing wrong, you don’t fear ghosts knocking at midnight.” Besides, this female “ghost” had come to bother him for no reason—Shi Jun felt justified in his annoyance.

The woman seemed startled by his retort, turned to stare blankly at him, then slowly walked to the wardrobe and looked in the mirror. Suddenly, tears gushed from her eyes, and with a few quick steps she knelt before Shi Jun, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her reaction stunned Shi Jun, who peered at the mirror—his heart skipped a beat. There was no reflection of her. She really was a ghost!

Even though he’d half-expected it, Shi Jun was still paralyzed for a long moment by the inexplicable scene before him. “Stop crying! If you keep wailing like that, you’ll wake everyone up!” he said quickly, worried she’d wake his mother.

Still weeping, the woman looked up at him with red, swollen eyes, her voice full of grievance. “You don’t know—it’s been two years, and this is the first time anyone has spoken to me. I don’t even know how I’ve survived these two years… You really can see me, can’t you?” She grew agitated again, her eyes bright with tears, pleading with Shi Jun.

Unable to help himself, Shi Jun felt a pang of sympathy for her tear-streaked, ordinary face, and nodded, “Yes, I can see you.”

Relieved, the woman wiped her tears and choked out, “My name is Lu Qing. I was murdered…”

“Hold it!” Shi Jun made a time-out gesture, cutting her off. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I don’t want to know. Right now, I just want to sleep. If you can’t be quiet, please leave.” He glanced at the door and window, wondering how one was supposed to ask a ghost to leave, anyway.

“Please, I’m begging you! Two years—no one has seen me since I died; I don’t know where to go. I’ve wandered endlessly. I died without knowing why, and I still worry about my young child. If you can see me, you can’t be ordinary. I’m begging you, please help me—please…” Her voice grew desperate, though at least she lowered it.

Could this really happen after death? Shi Jun wondered, wanting to ask, but he was just an ordinary person, barely able to manage his own affairs—how could he get involved in a ghost’s business? Still, it didn’t feel right to just kick her out. He couldn’t help but ask, “How did you get in, anyway?”

“The window…” she mumbled. “I’m sorry, I know I’m a ghost, but I thought you couldn’t see me… It started raining, and I just drifted in to get out of the wet…”

Just drifted in? Shi Jun couldn’t help but laugh, his nerves finally relaxing completely. He grabbed a tissue to wipe the oil—and sweat—from his hand, muttering, “You nearly scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry!” Lu Qing said, forcing a smile.

“But honestly, I really can’t help you. I mean it—other than being able to see and hear you, I’m just a regular person. This is the first time I’ve ever seen a ghost, too. Sorry, but that’s the truth.”

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“But…” Lu Qing hesitated, the last glimmer of hope fading from her face. “Are you sure…”

“I’m sure!” Shi Jun replied firmly. “So I really can’t help you.”

Lu Qing fell silent for a moment, her mouth twitching as if she wanted to say more, but in the end, she just gave a bitter smile and sighed. “Right… You’re just a kid, what could you do for me anyway? And besides, I’m already dead…” she murmured, walking toward the window.

Her words filled with such sorrow that Shi Jun felt a twinge of regret. He wanted to call her back and ask for the whole story, but after a moment’s hesitation, he gritted his teeth and held himself back.

“Sorry for disturbing your rest!” Lu Qing waved at him, her face full of dejection, then slipped through the window and vanished.

* * * * * * * *

Once again, Shi Jun was alone in his bedroom. The dim light seemed to brighten, the heat returned, thunder rumbled outside, the rain grew even heavier, and only the piece of dried beef in the corner remained to prove anything had happened at all.

Shi Jun sat in his chair, dazed, almost believing he’d dreamed the whole thing. “What was the rush? On a night like this, she’s all alone—pretty pitiful, really.” He finally couldn’t help but mutter aloud the thought that had been circling in his mind.

“Ha! How fake—you sure didn’t say that earlier!” A childish voice rang out, crisp and clear, right beside his ear.

“Mother of God!” This time, Shi Jun couldn’t hold back. He leapt straight up from his chair, nearly three feet off the ground.

“Ghosts! Ghosts! What is this, a midnight ghost parade? My bedroom door’s locked, people can’t get in, but ghosts are coming and going like it’s a highway!” As he jumped up, he realized his legs had gone numb, unable to support him, and he plopped down hard on the floor.

Just then, the living room clock began to strike—twelve times, right on the dot. Midnight.