Xue Dingqing died for his country at the end of September 1939, buried in Changsha. Later his remains were brought back to Wuxi by the Xue family and interred in the family cemetery. His soul wandered the mortal realm, avoiding the ghost officers everywhere hunting souls, reluctant to leave.
He stayed at home for over a month, then went to Nanjing to look for Xie Chi, to see if she was still alive. Two years had passed, everything had changed. He searched for half a month without finding her, but accidentally encountered He Feng mixed among the Japanese. He wished he could cut this traitor into a thousand pieces, but He Feng’s aura was too powerful, while he was merely an ordinary little ghost. Getting close caused him discomfort.
Not all ghosts could commit evil deeds – malevolent spirits also needed special destinies. In recent years there were countless wronged souls wanting to settle scores with the Japanese. But the Japanese army carried heavy murderous aura, and their life gates were far overseas. First, there was no way to seek revenge; second, ghosts were forbidden from interfering in mortal affairs again, and the underworld constantly sent officers to suppress them; third, everything has cause and effect – evil done today must be repaid tomorrow. In the end, they could only resolve earthly bonds and proceed to the path of rebirth.
Xue Dingqing followed He Feng from afar for two days before discovering his secret. Relieved, he wandered Nanjing for a few more days before being accidentally caught by ghost officers and taken to the underworld. It wasn’t until the end of December that he took advantage of the opening of the ghost gates to sneak out with others, finding Xie Chi in Shanghai, along with He Feng who had been tortured into a bloody mess.
He was filled with hatred but completely helpless, only able to circle around Fujita Kiyono’s courtyard daily, unable to approach. He watched with his own eyes as Fujita Kiyono trapped Xie Chi like a pervert, watched He Feng drive her away in escape, forced into a desperate situation. He unconsciously blocked the car’s path, the vehicle passing through his body and plunging straight into the river.
Xie Chi didn’t die – she was taken away by Fujita Kiyono. Xue Dingqing couldn’t leave and could only watch helplessly as the plane flew away.
He encountered He Feng again in 1976, when He Feng had become a patrol envoy of Shiyi Dian, wearing a cloak and hat, carrying a white whip, very imposing. Xue Dingqing forcibly dragged this fierce and cold old acquaintance into lengthy pleasantries. Later He Feng left on official business, and they never met again.
In the following decades, Xue Dingqing remained active in southern China. He never expected to encounter Fujita Kiyono again – this bastard was aged beyond recognition, but Xue Dingqing recognized those eyes immediately. The two ghosts fought, Xue Dingqing was defeated, severely injured, and recuperated for half a year. When he returned, Fujita Kiyono had vanished without a trace.
Not until he committed an offense and met He Feng again, learning news of Xie Chi and coming to see her, did he witness her being pursued for her life by Fujita Kiyono. Fighting once more, the old Japanese ghost’s power was stronger than before. Unable to withstand even a few moves, Xue Dingqing was defeated. Not daring to fight hard, he hid in the distance to recover briefly. When he emerged again, following the heavy ghostly aura toward the northwest, he discovered the dying Meng Yuan.
Xue Dingqing took her away. Three days later, Meng Yuan regained consciousness. Seeing him, she was somewhat dazed.
Xue Dingqing looked at her confused expression, “I’m not mistaken, it’s me.”
Meng Yuan couldn’t recall this person for a moment, only feeling his face looked familiar. Thinking again, wasn’t this that pretentious little lawyer? “Xue? What was the Xue?”
“Xue Jing.”
“Xue Dingqing!” Meng Yuan looked at him in surprise, “How are you here?” She examined his youthful appearance, “When did you die? You didn’t reincarnate either? Didn’t you leave Nanjing back then?” Meng Yuan laughed, “What, died outside again?”
“Died at the front lines, blown up by Japanese shells.”
Meng Yuan’s heart sank, falling silent, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? I’m used to that mouth of yours.”
Xue Dingqing sighed inwardly, roughly guessing her cause of death. Not wanting to mention sad matters, he didn’t expect Meng Yuan to bring it up herself: “I died when Nanjing was occupied, hugging a grenade and taking two little devils with me. Pretty impressive, right?”
“Impressive.”
“Where’s big brother?”
“Which brother?”
“He Feng.”
“Don’t know, I’m looking for him too.”
So Meng Yuan brought Xue Dingqing to Ji Tong’s home, seeing her staring out the window in a daze. Meng Yuan waved continuously, “Ji Tong, sister Wanzhi! Hey, Xie Wanzhi, Tong Tong!”
No matter how she called, Ji Tong showed no reaction.
Xue Dingqing pulled her back, “Stop calling, she can’t see us.”
Meng Yuan frowned, “How could that be?”
Without He Feng present, Meng Yuan didn’t dare approach Shiyi Dian casually, only squatting outside from afar, hoping to encounter familiar ghosts to inquire about He Feng’s news. Her luck was good – she happened to meet Pei Yi and quickly called out to him, “Patrol Envoy Pei, have you seen my brother? He Feng.”
Pei Yi looked her up and down, vaguely familiar, “You’re his picked-up sister?”
“Yes.”
“He reincarnated.”
“Ah? Where did he reincarnate to?”
“I don’t know.” Pei Yi snorted with laughter, “Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you – that’s all classified.” He sniffed Meng Yuan’s scent, suddenly vanished without a trace, teleporting to Xue Dingqing who was hiding nearby, “I could smell it was you from afar. Quite bold, daring to come here. Come with me.”
Before Xue Dingqing could speak, Meng Yuan rushed over, grabbed him and ran.
“Stop—” Pei Yi watched them disappear in a flash, smiling as he headed west, “Run then, run faster, don’t let me catch you again.”
…
Gan Ting married a real estate boss who was tall and handsome in his youth, but in just five years had grown more than a size larger. They had a daughter four years younger than Zhou He Shan, still at the age where she’d cry if she couldn’t get toys, so Zhou He Shan often gave her things.
Since they lived in the same city, they often gathered, mostly at each other’s homes. This year Gan Ting had moved to a new villa with a huge courtyard, inviting Ji Tong’s family for weekend dinner.
The two women busied themselves in the kitchen. Gan Ting watched the two men and child playing ball in the courtyard while washing persimmons, shaking her head in admiration, “I’m so envious of you. Little Zhou still looks like a young man – he’s twenty-eight, right?”
“Twenty-nine next month.”
“Being young is good, so energetic.” Gan Ting withdrew her gaze, grinning mischievously at her, “Hey, how often do you two… you know?”
“…” Ji Tong didn’t like sharing such matters with others, even close friends. She replied evasively, “It’s fine.”
“How fine is fine?” Gan Ting nudged her arm, “We’re not little girls anymore, the kid’s this big, still being secretive. You’re just secretly happy, blessed to death.”
Ji Tong pushed her aside, “Wash your persimmons.”
Gan Ting looked up at Zhou Hui again, then at her own husband, “Your husband is truly handsome. Look at mine – belly like he’s pregnant, legs like an elephant! We’re just husband and wife in public, brothers at home now. Twice a month would be good, all rushed affairs, like completing a task.”
Ji Tong looked at her in shock, “Why?”
“Old married couple, no interest. How could it be like the beginning with daily passion?” Gan Ting eyed her, “Tsk tsk tsk, look at that disbelieving expression. You can’t understand the feeling of willing spirit but weak flesh. Your man is young and vigorous.” Gan Ting shook her head and sighed, “Being with someone young is good – full of vitality, capable in every way, even keeps you young. Say you’re forty-six? Who’d believe it?”
Indeed, Ji Tong looked much younger than her peers. She paid careful attention to exercise and maintenance, but most effective wasn’t self-discipline, exercise, and expensive skincare – it was a good mindset and a lover who spoiled her like she was eighteen.
The dozen-plus years with Zhou Hui had been beautiful like a fairy tale.
Unfortunately, Ji Tong was diagnosed with malignant brain tumor at fifty-one. After surgery, she improved briefly but still relapsed, spread, and metastasized. Ji Tong was medically trained herself – though specialized in different fields, she had some understanding of her condition. Complete recovery was impossible; she could only continue radiation and chemotherapy, hoping to delay death.
With age came richer emotions than before. She couldn’t bear to leave this or that. Unlike her previous life when she was alone, now she had elders above, children below, and a young husband. Every time she thought of leaving him alone, she wanted to endure longer, fighting for more days of life.
Thus, under the disease’s ravages, she persisted for over four years. The originally vibrant and beautiful woman grew increasingly haggard.
At fifty-five, Zhou Hui brought her back to China from Canada.
Ji Tong didn’t want to die in a foreign country. She said: We are Chinese people; we must return to our roots.
Four years earlier, Zhou Hui had bought a small wooden house in a quiet mountain. Originally lived in by a writer who later went abroad and transferred the house. But Zhou Hui had been taking Ji Tong abroad for treatment and they’d never actually moved in.
After having it thoroughly cleaned inside and out, they moved in.
Too late to plant fruits and vegetables, fresh ones were delivered daily. Zhou Hui made delicious food for Ji Tong in various ways. The two leisurely watched stars, felt morning breezes, listened to forest creatures’ calls, spending their final thirty-seven happy days.
She lived half a month longer than the doctors predicted.
Ji Tong wasn’t afraid of death itself. After years of struggling while constantly preparing mentally, being able to depart peacefully in this scenic place, in her lover’s arms, brought her considerable comfort.
Zhou Hui didn’t seem overly grieved. From beginning to end he shed not a single tear, holding her in his arms, still gently coaxing her, telling jokes, humming melodies, talking about the past.
At her final moments, Zhou Hui feared Ji Tong couldn’t hear, whispering in her ear: “Don’t go far, wait a moment.”
He lay over her for a long time, until he felt no movement at all, then rose to help her lie properly and covered her with a blanket.
Zhou He Shan waited outside. He’d arrived yesterday morning, rushing back from military academy upon hearing the news, fortunately seeing his mother one last time.
Seeing Zhou Hui emerge, he immediately stood, “Where’s mom?”
“Sleeping.”
Zhou He Shan wanted to enter, but Zhou Hui pulled him back, “Sit down, talk with me.”
Zhou He Shan’s eyes were red from sleeplessness and grief. He sat properly, the bearing of a well-trained soldier.
Zhou Hui wore the red scarf Ji Tong had knitted him three years ago. Though rough with many pills, he cherished only it.
Watching spring’s arrival with denser bird songs, the deep forest remained quiet. In this slightly oppressive tranquility, Zhou Hui suddenly ruffled Zhou He Shan’s black, hard crew cut, “Dating anyone?”
Zhou He Shan shook his head.
“Haven’t met anyone you like?”
“There’s one, but she doesn’t seem interested in me.”
“There are girls who don’t appreciate my son?”
“Many people pursue her.”
“If you had half your dad’s shamelessness, you could catch even a fairy.” Zhou Hui smiled, reaching into his pocket for cigarettes.
“Mom won’t let you smoke.”
Zhou Hui blocked his hand, turning aside to light up, “Last one.”
“Your mom feared cold, had a bad temper, problems everywhere. I had to watch her constantly. These past two years I haven’t managed you much.” He patted Zhou He Shan’s shoulder, “Grown up, like a real man.”
Zhou He Shan smiled glumly, “I was already a man.”
“How’s military academy life?”
“Pretty good.”
“I always wanted to go but never had the chance. You must study well.” Zhou Hui leaned back against the wooden wall, slowly exhaling smoke, “Protect the country in the future.”
“I will.”
“Perform a military salute, let me see.”
At such a time, Zhou He Shan had no mood to discuss these things, frowning: “Don’t want to.”
Zhou Hui kicked him, “Hurry up.”
Zhou He Shan reluctantly stood, straightened his collar, stood at attention, and performed a solemn military salute.
Zhou Hui looked up at his spirited son, nodding with satisfaction, “Sit down.”
Zhou He Shan silently sat back.
“Whether chaotic times or peaceful eras, being a soldier is such an honor.” Zhou Hui lightly embraced his son’s shoulder, “You’re almost twenty. When I was your age…” He paused without continuing, “Take good care of grandma, grandfather, grandmother. Serve the country.”
“Mm.”
“Do more good deeds, release more lives. Don’t seek great wealth, but be a kind, upright person.”
“I know.”
“Grandma has you, grandfather has your grandmother, you have your country and mission, and will have wife and children in the future. But your mom can’t be without me. You know clearly – she can’t sleep without seeing me for even a day.” Zhou Hui flicked his cigarette, taking a light puff, voice growing low, “The road there is dark. How can she walk alone?”
“Dad…” Zhou He Shan choked up, “What do you mean?”
“Your dad is neither filial nor responsible. But compared to your mother, none of that matters anymore. I don’t ask you to understand, just hope you won’t hate me for selfishly leaving all burdens to you.”
“…Dad.”
“My son, I understand and trust.” Zhou Hui embraced Zhou He Shan’s shoulder, “Tell them I took your mom traveling the world, don’t disturb us.” He looked at the small lake ahead, eyes carrying a smile, “Weather’s warming up. Have someone fill this lake and plant peonies – lots of them. Your mom likes those flowers.”
“Okay.”
“Can you cook noodles? Your mom seemed to have taught you.”
“Yes.”
“Go cook me a bowl of noodles.”
“Okay.”
Zhou He Shan vaguely sensed his father’s meaning, absent-mindedly staring at the boiling water in the pot. He added too much salt, ladled out some water, added clear water, then served it to Zhou Hui.
No one outside.
No one in the living room.
No one anywhere.
Finally, Zhou He Shan found a paper by the bedside vase with dried flowers, with a hastily scrawled line:
[Your mom loves lychees, burn some for us during holidays]
Fingers trembling, hot noodle soup spilling over his hand, Zhou He Shan rushed outside, “Dad—”
“Mom—”
Remembering his father’s words, he ran toward the lake, standing stunned briefly before suddenly kneeling.
A red scarf floated on the lake surface.
It was peaceful,
As if nothing had happened.
…
Zhou Hui never expected that after Ji Tong’s death, she would appear as Xie Chi.
She welcomed him with a smile.
They didn’t linger long in the mountains. Zhou Hui took her to Shiyi Dian. With a changed face, old colleagues didn’t recognize him. Zhou Hui negotiated with the gate-guarding officers for a long time before being recognized and allowed entry.
Seeing Zhou Hui, Lord Jiang was first startled, then calculated with his fingers, “How did you come? Should be two more years.”
“Missed you, came early to see you.”
Xie Chi smiled and nodded to Lord Jiang: “Lord Jiang, long admired your great name.”
Lord Jiang looked at the female ghost behind him, immediately understanding, “Don’t use me as cover.”
“I came to thank you for giving me a new—”
Lord Jiang didn’t give him a chance to be sentimental, directly interrupting: “Enough, enough, don’t be polite with me. If you want to thank me, come back and continue working.”
“I came for that matter too – I’m here to resign.”
Lord Jiang snorted: “Covered for you thirty-eight years, and now you disown family.”
“Even if I returned, I couldn’t use the white whip anymore.” Zhou Hui spread his arms, “Look.”
Lord Jiang sniffed lightly – an utterly pure soul, purified without a trace of malevolent energy.
Zhou Hui lowered his hands, “I have no choice.”
Lord Jiang stroked his beard and sighed, “Fine, go. You’re useless anyway. Come visit when you have time.”
“Certainly.” Zhou Hui and Xie Chi both bowed to him.
After they left, Lord Jiang released the white whip, looked at it briefly, then shook his head with a smile, “Looks like I’ll need to find you a new master.”
…
Places they never visited in life, they traveled to after death. They floated above viewing the motherland, freely shuttling through clouds, living freely for decades.
Passing through Guangxi, Xie Chi was suddenly called by a female voice.
“Sister Wanzhi—”
She thought she’d misheard – after all, people who could call this name had died or reincarnated.
About to leave, two ghost shadows flashed before them.
Meng Yuan stared wide-eyed at her, “It really is you! Sister Wanzhi!”
Xie Chi was nearly scattered by her embrace, looking behind her to see Xue Dingqing.
Zhou Hui raised an eyebrow, looking at Meng Yuan, “Still so reckless.”
Meng Yuan examined this male ghost, “Who are you?”
“Who else could I be?”
This tone!
“Brother?” Meng Yuan released Xie Chi, “Is it you, brother?”
“Who else?”
“Ahhhhh brother!” Meng Yuan screamed, pouncing on him, “Brother! I missed you to death! I searched for you so many years, finally gave up when I couldn’t find you! You died so early again!”
“…”
On the other side, Xue Dingqing and Xie Chi exchanged pleasantries.
“Haven’t seen you in years, you’re still the same.”
“You too.”
“But… you reincarnated, why still your past life appearance?”
“It’s a long story.”
He reached out to Xie Chi but was immediately blocked by Zhou Hui. Xue Dingqing looked at him speechlessly, “Must you be like this? Over a hundred years have passed. I only consider her a friend – an old friend!”
Xie Chi extended her hand, “Old friend.”
Meng Yuan had been following Xue Dingqing these years – the two could be considered a twilight romance. Xue Dingqing was supposed to enter Shiyi Dian for punishment but couldn’t bear leaving this sharp-tongued old ghost, so the imprisonment matter kept being delayed. Recently fewer officers came to arrest him, so the two ghosts lived relatively peacefully.
Old friends reunited with endless conversation.
Mentioning Li Changsheng, Xue Dingqing grew alert, “How’s there another surnamed Li? Just how many things don’t I know about you?”
“I have nothing with him! Just a little war comrade! An anti-Japanese hero! He later lived to over ninety! Had six children!”
“Explain clearly to me, who else is there?”
“No one else…”
They bickered all the way. Looking back, Xie Chi and Zhou Hui had already vanished.
…
Passing their hometown, Xie Chi lay on Zhou Hui’s back, tugging his ear, “Go give our son a dream to send us two horses.”
“Why don’t you do it?”
“Such shameless things are better done by you.”
“Old thing.”
Xie Chi was displeased, using force, “Who’s the old thing?”
“You, old lady.”
“I’m twenty-seven years old in appearance now, twenty-seven! Looks about twenty-something, young and beautiful.” Xie Chi got off his back, proudly floating in two circles.
Zhou Hui watched her showing off, laughing, “Yes yes yes, beautiful old lady. Where shall we go next?”
“First get the horses, then… we’ll see.”
“Alright—”
…
Xie Chi was a wandering soul for a hundred years, borrowing a human body to live fifty more years. Not recorded in the death registers, after death she remained a wild ghost. Zhou Hui accompanied her in eternal wandering outside, not entering the underworld, not reincarnating.
They would be forever free, forever together.
Undying and indestructible, unaging and untiring.
“A’Zhi.”
“A’Zhi—”
“Hurry up.”
“Coming.”
…
Author’s Note: The End