Chapter 15: Possession (Part 4)
“Living till now, I’ve realized that all I have are those cold eight figures in my bank account, nothing else.” Cheng Yuliu took her last drag of the cigarette, her expression dazed.
This should have been a tragic story, but somehow, both Lin Banxia and Song Qingluo felt that she deserved a punch after hearing that line.
“And then? That person who died at the morgue, did they have something to do with you?” Lin Banxia asked, trying to shake off the capitalist undertones from his mind. “And what about my colleague—”
“Your colleague? That one named Liu Xi?” Cheng Yuliu laughed with a hint of malicious delight in her eyes. “But don’t blame me for that. While I’m not exactly a good person, I don’t kill deliberately. That one was just unlucky.” She chuckled darkly.
Lin Banxia frowned, and Song Qingluo asked softly, “After that, did you make another wish?”
Cheng Yuliu replied coldly, “Yes. After one mistake, I made another. I made a wish to my shadow again.”
“What wish?” Song Qingluo questioned.
“I wished for them to come back to me,” Cheng Yuliu said. “I told my shadow.”
“I wish they would return to me.” Cheng Yuliu, her mind unraveling, made this wish as she stared at the fused bodies. Her spirit had shattered by then. In the dark room, Cheng Yuliu clung to this wish as though it were the last straw of salvation. Under the flickering candlelight, her fingers clawed at the faint shadow on the floor, desperately whispering this plea.
Her shadow wavered, flickering like a dying flame, and that familiar voice sounded behind her once more. Her lips hovered close to her ear, gently murmuring, “Alright.”
Her wish was granted once again.
Her deceased family members returned to her.
That morning, Cheng Yuliu heard a familiar knock at the door. The day before, she’d made her wish, and now, thrilled, she rushed to the door and flung it open. In that instant, she saw her husband, her child, and her in-laws—they had indeed returned, but they came back in the form of corpses.
To this day, Cheng Yuliu can’t fully recall what happened that morning. By the time she came to her senses, it was already the next day. She found herself blankly scrubbing the bloodstains from beneath the refrigerator. The once-empty fridge was now crammed full, dark fluid dripping down and pooling into a repulsive crimson puddle on the floor.
But Cheng Yuliu was no longer afraid. She numbly cleaned the floor, humming the lullaby her child had loved before bedtime.
The bodies continued to twitch and emit a sickening, sticky sound. Cheng Yuliu, whose nerves had been utterly shattered by fear, could no longer react to anything. She quietly cleaned the floor, closed the refrigerator door, and slowly walked to the center of the living room, lighting another candle.
The dim light illuminated her face. She looked down, hoping to find the last bit of solace for her soul.
But she was disappointed. There was nothing left below her, not even darkness.
Cheng Yuliu’s shadow had disappeared.
At this point, Lin Banxia glanced down at the floor. Sure enough, there were only two shadows left on it—Cheng Yuliu’s shadow was nowhere to be seen.
Cheng Yuliu chuckled and said, “See? I wasn’t lying.”
Lin Banxia asked, “So you’ve made so many horrible wishes—why do you still keep seeking out your shadow? Is there… another wish you want to make?”
Cheng Yuliu gave Lin Banxia a cold stare. “Of course, I still have a wish to fulfill. I want them to return to normal.” She pointed at Song Qingluo. “You said you could make it happen, didn’t you?”
Song Qingluo ignored her, seemingly deep in thought.
“What about Liu Xi? Why did he meet with you?” This was the question Lin Banxia was most curious about. “What did you do to him? Why did he also hit the lottery? And why is there someone behind him who looks exactly like him?”
Cheng Yuliu replied icily, “Him? He was just a thief. If he hadn’t taken my shadow, I wouldn’t be in this sorry state.”
“Took your shadow?” Lin Banxia asked, surprised.
“I don’t even know how he did it,” Cheng Yuliu said irritably. “But he took my shadow. I wanted him to give it back, but he refused—that’s why I had to find him.”
Lin Banxia hadn’t expected this; he had thought Cheng Yuliu had threatened Liu Xi.
“Alright, my story is over,” Cheng Yuliu said. “I’ve told you everything you wanted to know. Now, give me the item.” She extended her hand toward Song Qingluo, expecting him to hand over the plastic wrap he held.
Song Qingluo looked at her, unmoving, and said slowly, “Sorry, I can’t give it to you.”
Cheng Yuliu’s tone turned menacing. “Are you going back on your word?”
Song Qingluo replied calmly, “Of course, I keep my promises. It’s you who broke yours.”
Cheng Yuliu froze.
Song Qingluo said, “What I mean is, if you can give me what I want, I can help you restore them. But what I want is your shadow. Since you no longer have a shadow, what else can you use to trade with me?”
Cheng Yuliu froze, stunned by how the situation had developed. Her mouth opened and closed as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.
Ignoring her, Song Qingluo turned around, put the plastic wrap back in the box, and was about to lock it. Seeing this, Cheng Yuliu suddenly went wild. She lunged at Song Qingluo, trying to snatch what he held.
Song Qingluo noticed her move and turned to dodge, but the next moment, Cheng Yuliu pulled out a sharp knife from somewhere and thrust it toward him. Witnessing this, Lin Banxia’s eyes widened, and he shouted, “Watch out!”
The two were so close that Song Qingluo had nowhere to retreat, his back against the table. With lightning reflexes, he grabbed the knife handle and shoved her back with force, pushing Cheng Yuliu away.
She fell to the floor. Although she tried to get up and charge at him again, she glanced down at the knife in her hand and froze.
The blade, once sharp, had bent into a strange shape. Blood was dripping from it, falling in crimson droplets down the edge.
Song Qingluo stood coldly in place, his right hand lowered. A thin line of blood trickled from his fingertips, dripping steadily onto the wooden floor.
Lin Banxia rushed forward, lifting Song Qingluo’s hand to inspect the wound. “Are you okay? It’s a deep cut—we need to take care of it right away.”
After a brief silence, Song Qingluo said, “Let’s go.”
Lin Banxia carefully supported him as they walked out.
Cheng Yuliu sat blankly on the floor, muttering for them not to leave, yet lacking the courage to stop them again. Watching the door close with a resounding bang, she staggered to her feet, made her way to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. Hugging a distorted lump of meat, she buried her face in it, sobbing uncontrollably. “I want to be with you forever—forever together—”
Lin Banxia was used to seeing the blood of the dead, but live blood made him anxious. He kept wiping away the blood with tissues he had on him. Song Qingluo’s hand, as beautiful as any other, was pale and jade-like, with long, slender fingers. Now, however, that lovely hand bore a ghastly wound, blood flowing freely.
“This cut is too deep; we need to go to the hospital for stitches,” Lin Banxia urged.
“No need.” Song Qingluo was indifferent, flicking his hand to shake off some blood.
“How can you say that?” Lin Banxia frowned. “What if it scars…”
“It’s fine,” Song Qingluo said. “I’m a man; what’s a scar to me? My hand hurts. You handle it.”
Lin Banxia was puzzled. “Handle what?”
“Call the police, of course,” Song Qingluo replied.
Lin Banxia was taken aback. “Call the police… now?”
“What else?” Song Qingluo said. “Should we just leave her with those corpses?”
Realizing he had a point, Lin Banxia silently took out his phone and dialed 110. He vaguely explained the situation, avoiding too much detail. Hearing the mention of corpses, the dispatcher assured him that officers would arrive shortly.
After hanging up, Lin Banxia hesitated, “But… what if the police see the bodies moving?”
“They won’t,” Song Qingluo replied. “The corpses won’t move anymore.”
Lin Banxia looked at him, puzzled.
Song Qingluo explained softly, “Remember the plastic wrap I just used?”
Lin Banxia nodded.
“That’s a special tool. Its specific function is a bit complicated, but among other things, it restores damaged items while also absorbing their vitality,” Song Qingluo explained.
Understanding dawned on Lin Banxia. “So it can be used to make up the corpses’ appearances!”
Song Qingluo sighed. “…Sure.”
“What now?” Lin Banxia fretted. “Something must have happened with Liu Xi, too. I need to go check on him.” Given how things had turned out with Cheng Yuliu, Liu Xi would likely end up in a similar state if he followed the same path.
After a moment’s thought, Song Qingluo replied, “Let’s go home first. I need some time to think.”
Lin Banxia agreed, realizing that Song Qingluo still had an untreated wound. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? That cut is really deep—” He muttered on for a while, but Song Qingluo ignored him and remained firm on going home instead.
Once home, Lin Banxia fetched some alcohol, knelt beside the sofa, and carefully cleaned and bandaged Song Qingluo’s wound.
As he worked, Song Qingluo looked down at Lin Banxia. The young man before him, calm as ever, had a gentle, handsome face that wasn’t aggressive in its beauty. With slightly downturned eyes and lighter hair, even when serious, he looked especially warm.
Feeling a stir within, Song Qingluo asked softly, “Have you dressed wounds often?”
Lin Banxia hummed in affirmation and casually replied that he often patched up wounds for his younger cousin when they were kids, so he’d gotten the hang of it.
“You have a younger sister?” Song Qingluo asked.
“Well, sort of,” Lin Banxia replied with a smile. “She’s actually my cousin, not my real sister.”
“Oh,” Song Qingluo murmured in response.
Lin Banxia shrugged. “My parents passed away early, so I grew up with my aunt. Actually, I… I guess I’m a bit like Cheng Yuliu in that way.” Realizing how he sounded, he added sheepishly, “Though, of course, I’m nowhere near as wealthy.”
“No,” Song Qingluo shook his head gently. “You’re nothing alike—not even close.”
For some reason, Lin Banxia’s face grew warm under Song Qingluo’s serious gaze. Smiling, he looked away uncomfortably.
Author’s Note:
Cheng Yuliu: I have nothing in my bank account but a cold eight-digit number…
Lin Banxia & Song Qingluo: We have things to do. Let’s not chat. We’re off.
