by Cai Jun
Ma Li would never forget that night, either.
Ma Li: That copy of Les Misérables was hiding in my drawer. I burned it after you died.
Shen Ming: You always read the book with a flashlight. You said there were old student love letters in the book and it had to be kept a secret. But Ma Li, now I have a secret for you. I actually looked through the book. Someone scrawled in bad handwriting next to the Battle of Waterloo illustration, “Everyone who reads this book will be doomed. They will die, either by knife or needle!”
Ma Li: Mr. Shen, I told you not to touch my book. When I first read that curse, I was so scared. I regretted taking it from the attic. I figured some student probably wrote it as a joke. I hid it and didn’t think anything more of it. But a year later the curse became true. You were stabbed in the Demon Girl Zone!
Shen Ming: Yes, I died of a knife wound.
Ma Li: So I burned the book. Ever since then I’ve been terrified of needles. Just the word makes me feel nauseated. I wouldn’t go to hospitals if I were sick. If I had to go, I’d tear up the prescription for an IV drip.
Shen Ming: I take it you’re not married?
Ma Li: I’ve had plenty of girlfriends. Some rich ladies have tried to seduce me, too, but no one has stayed with me.
Ma Li suddenly felt crazy for sharing all of this.
Ma Li: Mr. Shen, are you really dead?
Shen Ming: Didn’t you see me cremated?
Ma Li: But if you were turned to ashes, how can you be on QQ with me?
Shen Ming: Ma Li, I’m right next to you.
Ma Li: No, it’s an illusion. I must have imagined you. I must need some meds. Get out of my head!
For the past few years, Ma Li had been plagued by insomnia and nightmares. Doctors had even prescribed antidepressants for him.
Shen Ming: You think this is a horror movie?
Ma Li: This must be a hallucination. I need to take my meds, take my meds, take my meds, take my meds, take my meds!
The screen filled up with the words “take my meds.”
Shen Ming: What drug do you take?
Ma Li: We’ll talk in person.
Ma Li’s fingers sweated as he typed those words.
Shen Ming: OK.
Ma Li: How will I know it’s you?
Ma Li was totally confused. Was he actually trying to confirm that he was talking to a dead person?
Shen Ming: Only I can tell you all your secrets.
Ma Li: Tomorrow at four, in front of Future Fantasy Plaza.
And with that, Shen Ming’s ghost disappeared from QQ.
The rain came down harder. It made Ma Li think of that thunderous night when Mr. Shen was killed, June 19, 1995.
That black mourning banner once again flapped in his memory, and he heard the somber mourning music, played to respect the dead. Mr. Shen was in his crystal casket, looking just like he always did, only paler under all the foundation and makeup applied by the mortician. It made Ma Li sick to see his teacher, and friend, like that. Only he was brave enough to touch the cold casket, and the dead body’s face. Suddenly, Mr. Shen opened his eyes and bit down on Ma Li’s finger . . .
What a scary dream. He woke up covered in sweat. The sky was brightening as he started writing his letter of resignation.
At 4:00 p.m., Ma Li arrived at Future Fantasy Plaza. Someone tugged his shirt, but when he turned he didn’t see anyone—until he looked down. It was the kid from the hot pot restaurant.
“Hello, Ma Li!”
Looking at the boy’s tranquil face, Ma Li had to fight to speak. “You? You are—”
“Four o’clock at the Future Fantasy Plaza, right? Just like you said.”
“No. Where is he? Did he hire you to come here?”
Ma Li pushed aside the boy and looked around anxiously, as if he might find a ghost hiding among the busy crowds.
“Stop wasting time. It’s me!” The boy remained calm and said, “What meds do you take?”
Ma Li was stunned. He squinted and backed away two steps. The boy talked like Shen Ming. Even his pitch sounded like him.
“Wait, what did you say?”
“Everyone who reads this book would be doomed. They would die, either by knife or needle!”
“Shut up!” Ma Li’s lips turned purple. He looked around and uttered, “Come with me.”
The two went to Starbucks. Ma Li ordered lemonade for the boy and coffee for himself. Then he said, “Tell me, who is making you do this?”
“Shen Ming.”
He rubbed his chin and started his interrogation. “Kid, what is your name?”
“Death. I mean, Si Wang. Si as in ‘general,’ Wang as in ‘lookout.’ ”
“What a weird name. How old are you?”
“Ten. I’ll be in fourth grade after the summer.”
“You weren’t even born when Mr. Shen died.”
Si Wang answered with poise. “Correct. I was born six months after he died.”
Ma Li sat there in disbelief, unable to think of another question.
The boy leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I am possessed by Shen Ming’s ghost.”
“What nonsense.”
“Ma Li, please tell me the background for the essay ‘In Memoriam of Liu Hezhen.’ Ma Li, want to play basketball? Ma Li, are you collecting the test papers today? Ma Li, why do we study? We study for the rise of China! Ma Li, have you forgotten about Dead Poets Society?”
“Stop talking, I beg you, Mr. Shen!”
Ma Li made like he was going to jump away from the table. He covered his ears and he looked like he was in pain.
Si Wang kept speaking with Shen Ming’s voice. “Ma Li, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted you to believe me. I’ve never left you, my dear student.”
“Shen Ming, what happened? Who killed you?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be a ghost now.”
Ma Li wrinkled his brow. He looked directly at the boy, first nodding and then shaking his head. He felt regret. He sipped some coffee to recover his composure. “Have you been a ghost all these years?”
“Yes. I floated from Nanming Road. I saw a schoolkid a few years ago and decided to hitch a ride. You see, this kid’s a hunchback, and he was crushed by me.”
The boy lowered his head painfully as though being forced.
“Mr. Shen, please don’t scare me like this!”
“Sorry, but if I’d met you at night, you’d be even more afraid.” The kid was now Shen Ming. His gaze looked like a grown man’s, and even his smile seemed out of place. “When I need to take a break, the Si Wang kid comes out. When I need to talk, I control his brain.”
“How long are you going to stay with him? Will you just wander around forever if the killer is never found?”
“I guess so.”
“I think Si Wang suffers too much like this.”
“We are fated to be together, in the same way that you and I are fated to help each other.”
Ma Li’s face darkened. He knew he was talking to a ghost. “Yes, I’ve always wanted to avenge your death, but I couldn’t find anything.”
“How have you been?”
“I just resigned today. I can’t take the pressure of being in finance.” Ma Li grabbed a tissue off the table and wiped his sweaty face.
Si Wang tapped on the table. “Anything I can do to help? You know that ghosts are all-powerful!”
“What can you do, kid? Can you cure my depression?”
“How about a new job?”
Ma Li noted the boy’s serious expression. He smiled bitterly and said, “Don’t tell me. I can be a home tutor.”
“Yes, for China’s largest home-tutoring company—Erya Education Group. You can be the GM assistant, annual salary is six hundred thousand yuan.”
&nb
sp; “Stop joking.”
“Do I have to make the headhunter show up to make you believe me?”
Half an hour later, Ma Li and Si Wang walked out of the plaza together. A BMW 760 picked up the kid and sped away.
It was dusk and Ma Li watched the surging crowds. Everyone was in a rush. No one knew they were speeding toward death—and with countless ghosts surrounding them.
CHAPTER 24
After the summer vacation, Gu Qiusha arranged for Wang Er to attend an elite private school known for cultivating industry leaders. It was funded, of course, by Erya Education Group. He refused, wanting to stay in public school, though he had no friends at the Number One Elementary School. After a few fights about the matter, Gu Qiusha worried that Wang Er would go back to his birth mother, so she relented. Even so, the driver continued taking him to school, where he also continued receiving special treatment. Many people wanted to see the genius in action, but security locked them out. Not even his classmates were allowed to randomly talk to him.
Wang Er loved to paint, so Gu Qiusha built a studio at the house. She filled it with plaster sculptures and paint. Every week he churned out a few new sketches and watercolors.
One late night that fall after Gu Qiusha had taken a shower, she walked past the studio and noticed the light was on. Wang Er was still up. He stood in front of the easel, furiously drawing with a pencil. He shook like he was having seizure. His sketch depicted a dimly lit space. It looked like a nineteenth-century copper-plate engraving. Dirty water dripped everywhere; the background was a cobweb-covered wall. A man lay face down on the ground with a knife in his back and a few mice crawling over his neck. His hairstyle and face made him seem to be in his twenties.
Gu Qiusha stood frozen in amazement. She recognized the shirt worn by the figure in the painting. The striped logo on its sleeve was the same as the one on a birthday present she’d picked out for her fiancé ten years ago.
He’d died wearing that shirt.
She charged into the studio, dragged the boy away from his work, and stared into his eyes. “Wang Er, are you sick?”
He was very pale and had beads of sweat on his brow. Shaking, he said, “I had a dream.”
“You drew what you saw in the dream?”
“Yes.”
The drawing depicted her nightmare, too. Every night, as dawn approached, she would dream that same scene. It showed how the police had found Shen Ming.
She burned the nightmare sketch the next day. Whenever she looked at Wang Er, she thought of Shen Ming. The boy always kept his eyes down, and he seemed weak. His refined face was pale. His big, black eyes often seemed lost in thought, while sometimes flashing with hatred.
Gu Qiusha was afraid to look too deeply into his eyes.
Some nights when they slept in the same bed, she’d wake up to Shen Ming’s face and jump up in horror. Wang Er would ask why and, not sure what to say, she always chalked it up to having nightmares.
On frigid nights, his eyes had an odd light. He didn’t look like a kid at all. He’d sidle close to her and hug her neck from behind like a long-lost lover. He tenderly kissed her cheeks and head, blowing warmth into her ears like a kitten. This boy had brought her dead heart back to life. She’d returned to her twenty-five-year-old self.
And she realized that she still loved him.
One morning, she heard soft cries and saw Wang Er sobbing into a pillow. The sheets were drenched and he was still asleep, lost in a bad dream. She’d never seen him so sad. She resisted waking him but pressed her ear to his mouth to hear his murmurs.
“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die, Xiaozhi.”
CHAPTER 25
“Who are you?”
Lu Zhongyue had produced a full ashtray of cigarette butts. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was still drinking black coffee. His watch read 1:00 a.m. He liked to stay in the shadows to conceal the birthmark on his forehead.
“Someone like you.”
Ma Li sat near the window. He could see the top of Jing’an Temple. The waitress delivered a fruit tray and glanced at him again.
Three months ago, Ma Li had become the GM assistant at Erya Education Group. It only took him a month to bring in tens of millions of yuan in investment capital. As a result, he now had the power to fire any executive. Some gossiped that Gu Qiusha favored him for his looks, that he was her secret boyfriend.
Naturally, Lu Zhongyue hated people like Ma Li. The two never spoke at work; seeing Ma Li shamed him.
What Lu didn’t know was how they’d both graduated from Nanming High. Ma Li had graduated seven years after him, in 1995, the year Shen Ming was killed.
For the last ten years, Lu Zhongyue had tried hard to forget Shen Ming. But even now, every cold and wet dawn, Shen Ming’s eyes hovered above him, just like he was still in high school being woken up for breakfast. They’d been roommates back then and had liked playing games together. Lu favored offense, and Shen was a more defensive player. They won against other teams at least 90 percent of the time; they were the duo to beat.
Lu’s other hobby at school was fighting crickets. In the early fall, he stowed pans of crickets under his bed. The other roommates hated the noise. But Shen Ming had helped him grab a spotted cricket near the school. That cricket never lost, until it died that winter. Lu cried so hard. Lu had other hobbies, too, but studying wasn’t one of them. Shen Ming helped him cheat on every test, and was the sole reason he graduated.
Lu Zhongyue and Shen Ming had been the best of friends for twenty years. No one could have predicted the friendship. But by late fall of 2005, Shen Ming had already turned to ashes, and Lu Zhongyue felt that he’d been left to suffer all of these years.
Now, he stared at Ma Li. “You asked me to meet just to tell me this?”
“Mr. Lu, there is something neither Ms. Gu nor her father knows. The company you started in Hong Kong seems to have nothing to do with the main company, but is actually transferring its assets.”
“How do you know?” Lu Zhongyue rubbed his bare chin, and his face showed his surprise.
“Ms. Gu is clueless about finance and management, and President Gu is old. I feel lucky for you that no one has noticed yet.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Lu Zhongyue stubbed out his cigarette.
Ma Li wasn’t shocked by his directness. “I told you—we’re the same kind of people. We want the same things. I don’t need petty perks.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Mr. Lu, you hate your wife and father-in-law, right?” Ma Li noted Lu’s stiff gaze, then added, “So do I.”
“Tell me why.”
“That’s my secret. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Fine, let’s talk frankly. Erya has many secrets. As my wife’s assistant, you must know all of them.”
“If anyone knew what I knew, it would be lethal. A lot of people want this evidence.”
Lu lit another cigarette. “Ma Li, do you want to make a deal with me?”
It only took ten minutes for the two men to make their arrangement.
Satisfied, Lu Zhongyue puffed smoke rings, but his feet were shaking and goose bumps covered his back. “Honestly, you’re a scary person.”
“Is that a compliment?” Ma Li feigned sophistication. “You should be grateful to Gu Wang.”
“That kid?”
“Mr. Lu, didn’t you adopt him?”
“Since we’re partners now, I might as well tell you.” Lu Zhongyue opened a button on his shirt. He looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Every time I see that kid, every time I look into those eyes, it scares me to death. I can’t say why, but I have a feeling he wants to kill me.”
“You’re mistaken. Gu Wang doesn’t want to kill you.”
Alarm showed in Lu’s eyes. “Are you working for him, too?”
&n
bsp; “No, I work for myself. I just think you should treat him better. That would be better for you.”
Everything Ma Li said seemed rich in meaning. Lu nodded, lost in thought. “OK, I will.”
“Good.” Ma Li tossed a pill bottle to Lu.
“What is this? I can’t read the words.”
“It’s in German. You should have someone translate it. LHRH suppresses the luteinizing hormone,” Ma Li said. He smiled as he got up to leave, and he asked the waitress for the bill.
“Wait!” Lu grabbed his arm. “What did you just say?”
“Mr. Lu, I recommend that you check your drinking system at home. Don’t let your wife know.”
CHAPTER 26
Christmas Eve 2005.
The giant Christmas tree shined brightly in the mansion’s garden. He Qingying stood outside, her coat and scarf barely protecting her from the wind. Her hair was tied up in a knot, but a few strands escaped and fell in front of her eyes.
Two hours ago, she’d watched the BMW return with Gu Qiusha and Wang Er. They must have been at Mass. Hiding behind the trees, she was able to look into their window undetected. She was alone, just like a few days ago. They hadn’t invited her to Wan Er’s birthday party, so she’d had to watch from afar.
Wang Er had been born on December 19, 1995, at Zhabei District’s Hospital. The searing pain of childbirth was enough to make He Qingying want to faint.
“It’s a boy,” whispered the nurse as the newborn cried.
