Though this currency has long ceased to circulate, it still holds considerable value in the black market as a collectible. Moreover, even if it can't be spent, banks are willing to exchange it. Looking at the extra hundred yuan, I must admit, a sense of greed stirred within me. After all, the extra money went unnoticed by the pharmacy owner, and besides, I had even ended up paying a hundred yuan from my own pocket when the old man bought his medicine.
I pondered for a long while, but in the end, reason triumphed over greed. I decided not to keep the extra hundred and placed it in the drawer. After locking the cabinet, I went to rest.
The following evening, I opened the door at the usual time, only to be greeted by thirteen people who crowded my pharmacy, filling it to capacity.
What struck me as strange was that these people were all wet, some even had water dripping from their hair. The weather had been fine all day, and it hadn't rained. I looked at them more closely—each one with a grim expression, their heads hung low, not a word spoken among them.
I tried to make small talk, but all attempts were futile. In the end, one of them bought some medicine for typhoid, and one by one, they left in a single file.
After they left, no one else entered the store until nearly three o'clock. I sat behind the counter, bored, starting to feel drowsy.
"Uncle, I want to buy five qian of honeysuckle…"
At three o'clock, a familiar voice rang in my ear. The little boy with a mole near his eye appeared again at the counter.
I took the money, handed him the herbs and change, and the boy squatted down in a dim corner of the pharmacy, starting to count his money.
"Don't worry, little brother, I've counted it. It won't be short. If it is, you can come back and find me!" I reassured him.
The boy stood up and said, "Uncle, I saw twelve people leaving your store when I came. Were they here for medicine too?"
I froze for a moment. Just a little while ago—no, it was at midnight—thirteen people had entered. How could only twelve have left?
I was about to ask the boy if he had miscounted when I noticed his eyes fixed on something behind me, looking at the counter with a strange intensity.
I turned around, but aside from the rows of medicine cabinets, there was nothing there. Confused, I asked, "What are you looking at, little brother?"
The boy pointed behind me and said, "Uncle, there's a man behind you, smiling at you!"
A chill ran through me as I quickly turned around. But once again, there was nothing behind me except the rows of cabinets. A surge of anger mixed with fear rose in me. The boy already seemed strange, and now this? I told him that the pharmacy was closing and asked him to head home. Without a word, the boy walked out.
After four o'clock, I lay in bed, unable to shake the strange thoughts from my mind. I vividly remembered that thirteen people had entered my pharmacy, yet only twelve had left. If the boy hadn't been lying, then it was very likely that someone was still hiding in my store!
A shiver ran down my spine. I couldn't sleep any longer. I grabbed a kitchen knife and began searching the pharmacy. In the dark attic, the only light was from the flashlight in my hand. I searched the whole night, but found nothing. I began to think that perhaps the boy had made a mistake, or perhaps he had been trying to deceive me. Exhausted, I returned to bed.
Early the next morning, I received a call from Zhang Kun, another university roommate. He said he was in Xipu and invited me for drinks at noon. Having spent several days cooped up in the pharmacy without going out, my hair was a bit messy, so I went out early to get a haircut and tidy myself up.
While I was getting my hair cut, I overheard a conversation between two people nearby. One of them said, "Look, that man just walked out of the pharmacy next door. He even stays there at night!"
The other person, in a frightened tone, replied, "A young man just left, and now another reckless one is going in."
Another voice chimed in, "These young people today are lazy, you know? So many good jobs out there, and yet they choose this… It's like they want money more than their own lives…"
The two were residents of West Street, and I rarely interacted with people from that area, so I hadn't made any enemies. But their words irritated me. I earned my living through hard work—how could they label me as lazy and unwilling to work?
Even though working at night was a bit strange, many Western medicine stores stayed open late, and I hadn't heard anyone accuse them of risking their lives.
After my haircut, I took a cab to the meeting spot with Zhang Kun. As old friends, we naturally had to drink and catch up. In university, Zhang Kun and I were inseparable. He was from a rural village and used to be teased and bullied when he first arrived. I always stood up for him, so he was very grateful to me.
Zhang Kun wore a pair of leather shoes caked in yellow mud, which looked utterly mismatched with his otherwise clean clothes. I teased him, asking why he didn't have a little sister help him clean his shoes. He laughed and said, "It's not like I'm going on a blind date. Why do I need to look that clean?"
After a few rounds of drinks, Zhang Kun suddenly grabbed my hand, looking mysterious, and said, "Brother, there have been ghost sightings around West Street lately. You'd better avoid going there at night…"
I was taken aback. My pharmacy, "Herb Fragrance," was located on West Street. I immediately asked, "What's going on?"
Zhang Kun took a swig of baijiu and drunkenly said, "Last night, thirteen people from our village rented a minibus and came to the city. You know what happened?"
"What happened?" I asked, imitating his tone.
"You see, this is today's newspaper…" Zhang Kun pulled a crumpled newspaper from his pocket and handed it to me.
The paper reported that at around 11 p.m. on the 7th, a minibus carrying thirteen people plunged into Black Mountain Lake. The police had recovered twelve bodies, and one person was still missing.
When I saw the photos of the dead in the newspaper, my heart skipped a beat. I dropped my glass of liquor with a loud crash, spilling baijiu all over the floor.
Zhang Kun was startled and quickly asked, "What's wrong?"
The photos of the victims in the newspaper were of several of the thirteen people who had come to my pharmacy that night. I distinctly remembered them being wet when they entered. The timestamp on the paper was clear—they had already met with the accident before coming to my pharmacy. That meant that the thirteen people I had seen might not have been alive at all.
A horrifying thought suddenly struck me. If twelve people had left my pharmacy, as the boy had said, then one person must have remained inside. But if that person wasn't human… perhaps there was a ghost hiding in my pharmacy!
My body broke out in a cold sweat, and my legs trembled.
"Ye Cheng, what's wrong? Did you really see a ghost?" Zhang Kun asked.
I told Zhang Kun everything I had seen and heard the previous night. His face turned pale as he stared at me, nervously asking, "Did you see what the ghost looked like?"
I shook my head. Zhang Kun urged me to leave the pharmacy immediately, saying that staying there would be dangerous. I thought about it carefully—using the ghost excuse to quit wasn't a good idea. Boss Hong Gang would never let me go, especially after I had taken thirty thousand yuan from him. If I left without a word, I would be held responsible for anything that happened at the pharmacy.
I told Zhang Kun the whole truth. He tried to convince me, urging me to choose life over money, even if it meant spending a little more.
After much persuasion, I agreed. Once the drinking session was over, I summoned the courage to return to the pharmacy to pack up.
While I was packing, I received an anonymous text message that read: "Beware of Zhang Kun!"
At first, I was puzzled. Who sent this message, and why should I be cautious of Zhang Kun?
I didn't pay it much attention and continued packing. About half an hour later, I casually glanced at my phone and noticed that the screen was still on, with the words "Beware of Zhang Kun" glaring at me. Normally, my phone would turn off after five minutes of inactivity, but tonight, it had stayed lit for a full half-hour, its backlight refusing to go out.