"What?" Wang Dali was visibly shaken. "Let's get out of here! If that ghost targets us, we're done for!"
"She won't harm us," I said calmly. "I just want to burn some joss paper for her and talk a little. Come or don't—it's up to you."
Wang Dali hesitated. But when he saw Huang Xiaotao and me heading upstairs, he called out, "Wait for me!" and quickly followed.
The eerie melody of a piano echoed through the abandoned building. On the third floor, Wang Dali clung tightly to my arm. Even Huang Xiaotao looked nervous.
"Song Yang, ghosts aren't conscious beings, right? They won't follow us… right?" she asked.
"Ghosts are just people who died. And people, well, we're just ghosts who haven't died yet," I said softly. "When we meet a stranger, we still show basic manners. But when it's a ghost, we scream and panic. How do you think that makes them feel? Whether it's people or spirits, respect is key. Show it, and they'll return it."
"Sounds reasonable… but I'm still scared," Wang Dali mumbled.
"I can't believe you," Huang Xiaotao teased. "I should dedicate a Jay Chou song to you."
"Which one?" Wang Dali asked.
"'What Kind of Man Are You?'" She giggled.
...
We arrived at Music Room No. 4. Bathed in moonlight, a slender, translucent figure sat at the piano. Her cracked hands danced over the black and white keys, playing the Moonlight Sonata with haunting precision. Her ink-black hair flowed gently with the night breeze—a sorrowful beauty shrouded in mystery.
Just as I stepped forward, Wang Dali pulled me back. "Don't! They say if you interrupt her, the strings will kill you!"
"That's just a rumor," I replied.
"But those girls last night saw it happen!"
I pointed at the four ceiling fans above us. I hadn't needed to check—I already knew how Deng Chao faked it.
"He tied piano wires of various lengths to the fan blades. When the fan spins, the wires whip around the room. Instant 'ghostly' special effects."
"Damn, that simple? I can't believe I didn't think of it!" Wang Dali punched his leg in frustration.
I told them they could wait outside if they were scared, then stepped forward. They followed me anyway.
At five paces from the ghost, I stopped. Any closer, and the yang energy from our bodies might provoke her. I stood still, listening as the final notes faded. The piano lid shut with a creak. The ghost turned to face us—expressionless and silent.
"Senior Xia Mo," I said gently.
She stared at me with hollow, pupil-less eyes. Wang Dali shrank behind me; Huang Xiaotao inhaled sharply.
I forced myself to stay calm. "You've waited ten years. The person you loved is long gone. It's time to move on."
I lit a stack of joss paper—it caught fire smoothly this time.
"This is to send you on your way."
The paper turned to ash and was swept away by a cold wind. Her form faded like mist.
"She's really gone?" Huang Xiaotao asked.
"Probably," I replied.
Before I could say more, Wang Dali collapsed—foaming at the mouth, his body convulsing. I rushed over, pressing his philtrum and performing chest compressions. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back and he sat bolt upright.
"You okay, Dali—"
But his expression had changed. He wasn't himself.
From his throat came a sharp, woman's voice:"I loved him so much! I gave him everything! Why did he kill me? Why?! I waited here in agony!"
Huang Xiaotao froze. I was panicking too, but tried to reason with her.
"Xia Mo… love isn't always equal. Just because you gave everything doesn't mean he could return it all."
Wang Dali shrieked, thrashing on the floor:"But I loved him! Completely! He said he felt trapped… then he killed me! Dismembered me! Stuffed me inside a piano! All I wanted was pure love—why was that too much to ask?"
"It suffocated him," I said quietly. "You gave so much, he couldn't breathe."
"You're just like him!" she snapped through Wang Dali's clenched jaw. "Men! All the same! Heartless liars—I'll kill every last one of you!"
Cold sweat soaked my back. If she fully possessed Wang Dali, I was dead.
Her obsession ran too deep to dissolve with words.
Suddenly, Huang Xiaotao stepped closer.
"Don't!" I whispered. "She might attack you!"
But Xia Mo didn't resist. Huang Xiaotao gently embraced her.
"I know you suffered. You wanted love so badly, and he betrayed you. It's not fair… but it's over now."
She wept, genuinely. "He's gone. In your next life, find warmth. Find family, friendship, and love. Be stronger. Be wiser. And remember—until you meet the right one, everyone else is just part of the story. Don't let one chapter ruin the whole book."
"I still… can't let him go…" Wang Dali sobbed.
"He was a jerk! Trash!" Huang Xiaotao said sharply. "You're smart, beautiful, kind—a campus queen! You've been through enough. I believe you'll find someone who truly deserves you."
Wang Dali broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Then, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.
Huang Xiaotao gently laid him down, wiping her tears with a smug grin. "How's that for persuasion?"
I nearly choked. "Wait—you were faking those tears?!"
"Of course! Gotta sell the drama," she said, wiping her face. "You were trying logic on a heartbroken woman—rookie mistake!"
"Humbled and educated," I admitted.
Wang Dali suddenly gasped awake. "Huh? What happened? Why's my face all wet?"
I glanced at Huang Xiaotao—we said nothing. "You fainted from fear."
Scratching his head awkwardly, Wang Dali asked, "So… where's the ghost?"
"Gone. We talked her down. She's moved on," I said.
"Damn, Song Yang. You're like a modern-day exorcist!"
Huang Xiaotao glanced at me but didn't correct him. I felt a little guilty stealing the credit.
As we prepared to leave, I stopped and pulled out two more bundles of paper.
"Why are you burning more?" they asked.
"One for Ma Baobao. One for Zhang Kai. The dead deserve respect. I examined their bodies—I owe them that much."
I turned to the window and raised my hand in farewell.
"Rest easy, both of you. Your grievances have been answered. Nothing's holding you back now."
The moonlight poured in like water. A gentle wind carried the ashes out the window, dancing into the night.