This was yet another sleepless night.

Ji Tong lay with her eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, occasionally blinking to show she was still alive.

Two days ago, she had secretly burned all the evil-warding talismans and protective charms in the house, throwing away what couldn’t be burned, yet this still couldn’t change the fact that she could no longer see ghosts.

He Feng was gone, all the spirits were gone. Even when she learned some dark arts to summon them, not a single ghostly shadow appeared.

She didn’t know why.

Ji Tong had no heart for studying at all. Her mind was filled with memories from her past life, dreaming night after night of her compatriots being brutally murdered in various ways, dreaming of scenes of killing Japanese soldiers, dreaming of Fujita Kiyono’s whispers in her ear before death…

Every minute of being alive was torture.

She wanted to die.

She wanted to find He Feng, wanted to see him immediately. This thought grew deeper and deeper, and just as she was about to act on it—jumping down from upstairs—Zhou Xin successfully stopped her.

Zhou Xin only thought she was possessed by evil spirits again.

On that sweltering night, her cries and screams alarmed several nearby buildings. “Don’t harm my Tongtong! Come out here! Come torment me instead!”

A crowd gradually gathered downstairs.

Ji Tong looked helplessly at her hysterical mother. “I’m lucid. I’m sorry, Mom, I can’t live anymore. Let me go.”

Zhou Xin frantically knelt down before her. “What will Mom do if you’re gone? How will Mom live—you are Mom’s life.” “Mom will go with you, so we’ll have someone to look after each other over there. Take me with you, Tongtong—”

For Xie Chi, death would be liberation, but the terrible thing was she still had seventeen years of Ji Tong’s memories, and a mother who loved her like life itself.

Thinking of this long remaining lifetime, how should it be spent? This broken body was only seventeen years old.

Zhou Xin seized the moment when she was distracted, rushed over and hugged her around the waist, pulling her down. Ji Tong couldn’t breathe from being held so tightly and gently pushed her. “I won’t jump.”

Zhou Xin cried loudly, not hearing what she said. “If you die, Mom won’t live either.”

“I won’t jump.” Ji Tong smoothed her mother’s disheveled hair, feeling a pang of sadness in her heart. “Let’s go home. I haven’t finished my homework yet.”

Zhou Xin couldn’t feel at ease. She thought this was just her daughter’s delaying tactic, so she stayed by her side without closing her eyes all night. In the morning, she couldn’t hold on and dozed off briefly, only to be awakened by Ji Tong.

Ji Tong had already finished getting ready and informed Zhou Xin to prevent her from panicking upon waking to find no one there: “I’m going to school. I’ll buy breakfast on the road, you don’t need to make it.”

Zhou Xin hurriedly got up, feeling severely dizzy. “Let me ask for leave for you. Rest at home for a day.”

“No need.”

“Then I’ll drive you to school.”

Ji Tong walked to the door to change shoes. “You sleep. Driving in your condition isn’t safe either. Go back to your room and sleep.”

Zhou Xin couldn’t feel at ease, so she put on a mask and followed Ji Tong out. “Then I’ll walk with you.”

She bought soy milk and bread for Ji Tong on the roadside. Mother and daughter walked side by side, Zhou Xin occasionally glancing sideways at Ji Tong, feeling her daughter was strange somehow, but couldn’t pinpoint what was strange about her.

Ji Tong looked straight ahead, expressionlessly sipping her soy milk. This road they had walked many times before, but now her state of mind was completely different. Her legs moved mechanically, drawing her closer and closer to the school.

After sending Ji Tong inside, Zhou Xin kept waiting at the school gate, hoping for a chance encounter. She didn’t expect to actually wait for someone—she called out to Gan Ting and spoke with her briefly.

Before the morning reading bell rang, Gan Ting bounced into the classroom and saw Ji Tong flipping through a history book. They hadn’t touched their history books since finishing the minor college entrance exams last year. “Why are you reading this?”

Ji Tong ignored her and quickly flipped through the book.

Gan Ting took out books and test papers from her bag. “Your mom talked to me.”

Ji Tong didn’t look sideways, asking casually, “Asked you to watch me?”

Gan Ting laughed. “She said she’s worried you’re under too much pressure and mentally tense, so she asked me to chat with you when I’m free.”

“No need. I’m fine.”

Gan Ting pursed her lips and looked her over, deliberately drawing out a sigh. “How come I feel like you’ve become a different person lately? So cold to me. Tell me! Don’t you love me anymore?”

Ji Tong closed the book and pressed her temples.

Seeing her poor complexion, Gan Ting asked with concern, “What’s wrong with you?”

Ji Tong lifted her eyelids and looked at Gan Ting wearily. The topic changed without warning. “You often go out to have fun. Do you know of any haunted places?”

“Huh?” Gan Ting thought for a moment. “I don’t know, you know I’m most afraid of ghosts. But I can ask Zhao Shen for you—boys might be interested in this kind of thing.”

“Thanks.”

Zhao Shen didn’t provide any useful information, only introducing her to several flashy haunted houses.

This place was one Ji Tong found by searching online herself—an abandoned small factory in the suburbs. Half-demolished, construction had somehow stopped, leaving half building and half ruins. Combined with the gloomy weather and gusts of cold wind, it was quite eerie.

She wanted to see ghosts, violent ghosts—the more violent the better. That way, maybe He Feng would appear in time to protect her as he used to. But after crouching there all night, she saw nothing.

He Feng wasn’t there, or perhaps he was right beside her, but she could no longer see him.

This area was hard to get a taxi in. Ji Tong waited by the roadside for a long time before one finally came.

At first she was fine, but after ten minutes, she suddenly started sobbing, sitting in the back seat continuously wiping tears. This scared the driver so much his face turned white. “Miss, are you alright?” The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “It’s so unsafe for a girl to run to a place like this alone at night. What if you ran into bad people? Did you fight with your parents? Or with your boyfriend? A high school student, right? Such a good age. When you grow up and enter society, start a family and career, you’ll know how carefree your current days are. Sigh, it’s all nothing serious. Study hard. If you can’t do well in studies, it doesn’t matter either. What’s that saying—all roads lead to Rome. You have a long road ahead…”

…

There was still a month and a half until the college entrance exam.

Zhou Xin remained the same as before, never giving her pressure. When she had free time, she’d take her out to relax, even brought back a puppy to cheer her up. But nothing could raise her interest. She muddled through her days in a daze, mechanically attending school, leaving school, completing boring studies.

The only thing that hadn’t changed was her drowsiness.

During evening self-study, Ji Tong fell asleep on her desk again.

She had a dream.

She dreamed she was standing in a deep, dark forest. A large group of green butterflies flew overhead, covering the pale sky. She chased after the butterflies and arrived at the Huangpu River.

Cold wind howled past her face, her body shaking violently—she was actually in a car. She looked down and saw her hand being held by another hand covered in scars. A familiar voice reached her ears:

“In the next life, I’ll come find you.”

“I’ll come find you.”

Ji Tong was awakened by Gan Ting pushing her. In that instant, she was rarely furious. “Why did you wake me up?!”

Gan Ting was frightened by her cold stare. “I heard you talking in your sleep the whole time. I thought you were having a nightmare.” She leaned on the desk and looked at Ji Tong strangely. “What’s wrong with you?”

Ji Tong crumpled the test paper in front of her into a ball, suddenly covered her face and burst into uncontrollable sobs. “How long do I have to wait?”

“Wait for what?” Gan Ting kept comforting her. “There, there, don’t cry. I’ll buy you milk tea, okay? I won’t randomly wake you up anymore. Sorry, I shouldn’t have disturbed your sleep.”

“It’s not your fault.” Ji Tong pushed her away, wiped her tears, spread out the test paper, smoothed it flat. After doing just one problem, tears fell again, blurring the ink on the paper.

Seeing her like this, Gan Ting didn’t dare speak to her anymore. Ji Tong had been acting strange lately, more dejected than before, and very… cold, making people afraid to approach her. Even some of her daily habits had changed. If not for their long acquaintance, she would suspect someone else had taken her place.

Ji Tong suddenly looked at Gan Ting. “What are you looking at?”

Gan Ting blinked and curved her lips into a smile. “Watching you do problems.”

“You should study hard too. The college entrance exam is coming up. From today on, I won’t let you copy from me anymore. Do it yourself.”

“Ah—” Gan Ting hugged her arm and acted coquettishly. “Sister, don’t do this.”

Ji Tong’s heart trembled as she looked at her pouting mouth. “Call me sister again.”

Gan Ting laughed and patted her. “You’re taking advantage of me.”

Ji Tong grabbed her sleeve. “Call me that once.”

“Okay, okay, sister, sister.”

Ji Tong fell silent.

Gan Ting waved her hand. “What’s wrong now?”

Ji Tong suddenly hugged her. “There isn’t much time left. I’ll supervise you.”

Gan Ting was completely confused. Ji Tong let go of her and spread out her test paper. “Do it.”

“…”

Ji Tong turned back and continued working on problems with her head down. She remembered what He Feng had once said to her—he always hoped she could study hard and live well. No matter where he had gone, whether he would appear again, but if someday he came to find her again, she couldn’t face him in such a dejected state.

…

Zhou Xin had never imagined Ji Tong could score so high, given all the various problems she’d had over the years. Ji Tong’s luck was quite good—she knew most of the questions she encountered, performing exceptionally well. When Zhou Xin asked what major she wanted to study, Ji Tong couldn’t think of anything at first. She most wanted to attend military academy, but unfortunately her physical condition didn’t meet the standards. In the end, she chose a medical university in Nanjing.

In early September, Zhou Xin sent Ji Tong to register at school. Not feeling comfortable with her being alone, she stayed in Nanjing for several extra days, enthusiastically treating her roommates to meals and asking them to take good care of Ji Tong.

Zhou Xin had flexible work, so she would come to Nanjing to see her every few days. They had to talk on the phone daily to confirm her safety. This continued for so long that Ji Tong would punctually send her good morning and good night messages every day.

Ji Tong liked to go out wandering by herself.

She often couldn’t distinguish who she really was—Ji Tong with memories of a past life? Or Xie Chi tainted with the essence of this life? Sometimes she even felt the world beneath her feet was extremely unreal, as if she were dreaming.

After so many years, this city was completely different from what it once was. But as she walked through every street and alley, she could still recall the street scenes from decades ago. She could still find the old site of the qipao shop, though it had now become a high-rise building.

On Sunday, Ji Tong wandered into an art museum where an individual artist exhibition was being held.

She went in for a look and was attracted to a bizarre painting. She stood in front of it for a long time until a young man came over to chat with her. “Hello.”

Ji Tong looked at him. “Hello.”

“Do you like it?”

This question “like it” instantly pulled her thoughts back to decades ago. She gazed at this boy with shoulder-length hair in front of her, thinking of Xiao Wangyun. “You look very much like a friend of mine.”

The boy laughed. “Then your friend must be very handsome.”

Though it was a joking remark, it didn’t feel greasy or frivolous. Ji Tong nodded. “He was quite good-looking indeed.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“No.” Ji Tong’s gaze returned to the painting. “A confidant, I suppose.”

Ji Tong rarely made friends. Her relationships with roommates and classmates were all average, and she usually kept to herself. But this boy deeply appealed to her. He was an art school student named Cheng Yueyun, already in his second year of graduate school. Coincidentally, his name also contained the character “yun” (cloud).

He was the only person Ji Tong could call a friend during her five years of university life.

After graduation, Ji Tong returned to her hometown and got a job at a hospital.

Cheng Yueyun opened a studio and was basically a freelancer with plenty of time. He often came to find Ji Tong, and the two would drink and chat, talking about romantic matters. Besides him, Ji Tong only had Gan Ting as a friend, and her daily social interactions were limited to a few colleagues she found agreeable.

Time flew by, and she was thirty-four years old.

She lived an ordinary and simple life, like a stagnant pool of water. On the surface it appeared calm and peaceful, but deep down it was filled with tangled dead grass that occasionally sprouted a couple of old leaves.

Regarding marriage, Zhou Xin never pressured her, but her colleagues were more enthusiastic than each other.

Now, they were using a dinner gathering as an excuse for matchmaking. The other party was a small manager at an advertising company, quite handsome, though a bit young—just past twenty-eight. But Ji Tong looked young, probably because she had no pressure or worries. She made some money, had enough to eat and wear, and lived her small life without flavor but freely and peacefully. Even if someone said she was ten years younger, no one would doubt it.

The small manager wasn’t lacking women around him, but few caught his eye. Seeing Ji Tong’s indifferent attitude toward him only excited him more, deeply stimulating his desire to conquer.

After the dinner ended, the colleagues tactfully left together, creating an opportunity for them to be alone.

The small manager wanted to send her home and invited her to dinner the next day. Ji Tong didn’t agree. She didn’t want to deal with such troublesome matters anymore, so she simply told him: “I have a husband.”

The small manager was completely confused. “But Xiao Wang said—”

“They don’t know. My husband passed away years ago, and I have no plans to remarry.”

…

When Ji Tong graduated from university, Zhou Xin gave her a car. She didn’t like driving, used it for two months then let it sit idle, and finally sold it.

Ji Tong hated traffic jams and preferred the subway. Although the subway was also very crowded, being squeezed by people gave her more sense of security than being squeezed by cars.

Ji Tong didn’t live with Zhou Xin and Grandma. She bought a studio apartment not far from work—just two bus stops away. She was always very sleepy and often dozed off and missed her stop, getting scolded by her supervisor countless times for being late.

It was really tiring. Freelancing would be better. She often thought about maybe opening a qipao shop instead.

The night before her day off, Ji Tong ate dinner alone and watched a movie.

On her way home, she passed a flower shop that was about to close. The young woman inside was disposing of withered flowers. Ji Tong went in and bought several stems of pink-white sunset coral that were about to wilt. The young woman gave her two fresh narcissus lilies for free.

There were very few people taking the subway at this hour. Outside the weather was humid and hot, but entering the subway station brought a refreshing breeze.

The subway car was empty except for an elderly couple sitting across from her.

She looked at their clasped hands and smiled with envy.

Soon they reached the station. Ji Tong slowly walked out, and at a turn was hit head-on by a small vendor selling earphones. She apologized and helped the vendor pick up his packages before heading to the escalator.

Just as she exited the station, a strong gust of wind hit her face, scattering her flower petals in the air. Ji Tong bent down to pick them up one by one, stuffing them into the gaps of the wrapping. Suddenly, a pair of white sneakers appeared before her eyes.

She picked up the fallen flower at the foot of the shoes and apologized for blocking the path. “Sorry.”

She got up and walked around the person, but after just two steps, someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

The boy was wearing a light-colored tracksuit. He picked a petal from his sleeve. “Why are you running?”

…