Only when He Jian said this did I remember that deadly thing under the bed. I frantically pointed it out to Han Sha: “I was chasing this thing when I came in. Is it… still down there?”

Without a word, He Jian directly pulled out what was under the bed. However, it was newspapers again – this time three whole copies.

I flipped through them. The three newspapers respectively recorded two stairway accidents and one gas leak incident that occurred at No. 29 after it was converted to a commercial district.

“So it just came to deliver newspapers?” He Jian was puzzled.

“Have you ever seen anyone deliver newspapers under people’s beds in the middle of the night?”

Looking at the accident reports recorded in small sections of the newspapers, I felt chills running down my back.

Including what we found in the bathroom gap last time, all the newspaper reports related to the four incidents at No. 29 had mysteriously appeared in this house.

I looked toward Han Sha: “Why would this happen after tonight’s ritual…”

Han Sha calculated something with his fingers, then sighed: “Among the things lingering in this house, some want your life, but there are also relatively friendlier ones.”

“You call this friendly?”

My face turned green.

Given how much I judge by appearances, I could hardly imagine that the thing I saw under the bed earlier would be coming to make friends with me. Thank goodness for the hellish experiences I’d had in this house these days – otherwise, with my past courage, that one glance might have finished me off.

Han Sha glanced at me coolly: “First, it didn’t make you bleed. Second, it didn’t want to harm your life. It just wants you to leave this house. Isn’t that friendly enough?”

I was stunned: “What do you mean? You’re saying it keeps delivering these things to me just to make me leave?”

“You just can’t hear what they’re saying, so you don’t dare believe them.”

After Han Sha spoke coolly, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wardrobe, telling us a story.

That was ten years ago. After consecutively suffering the blows of his wife’s death and his daughter’s serious illness, Han Sha ultimately chose to walk the path of cultivation – partly to regulate his mindset, partly to accumulate more merit for his daughter so her illness might improve in the future.

The year he received his certification and came down from the mountain, his master gave him ritual implements and some connections to contact people who had needs in this area.

That same year, the newly practicing Han Sha encountered a house that left a deep impression on him.

No. 172 Qiyan Hill.

Ten years ago, No. 172 Qiyan Hill had been a privately-owned bookstore. The owners were an elderly couple who both suffered from amblyopia. They usually lived on the second floor and mainly served students from nearby Qiyan Hill Middle School. In their fifteen years of operation, though they’d never made much money, their days were barely sustainable.

However, this tranquility was soon shattered by a car accident.

In early summer 2012, an extremely tragic traffic accident occurred on the small road in front of No. 172. A middle school girl who had just been dismissed from school was run over directly by a dump truck carrying construction waste on a shortcut route. Because the truck driver didn’t immediately realize he’d hit someone, flesh and bone fragments were dragged for half a street before finally stopping in front of No. 172.

One can imagine what a heavy blow this accident brought to No. 172’s business.

For a long time afterward, nearby residents including school students all took detours around this road. Although business in the couple’s shop became deserted, both of them coincidentally developed a bone-chilling feeling.

Though there were no customers, from the day the car accident occurred, it seemed like No. 172 had gained some other things.

Han Sha received the commission a month after the car accident.

The intermediary didn’t tell him much information, only saying that the homeowners of No. 172 had recently encountered some strange incidents. Though it hadn’t become serious enough to threaten their lives, it was already affecting their daily life – the couple had been sleeping only three or four hours for several nights.

Then, on a day in May, Han Sha came to this small road where not a single human voice could be heard.

Because of the car accident a month earlier, several bunches of withered flowers still lay at the intersection. Though No. 172 was in an open state, the door was tightly closed.

At that time, Han Sha walked to the door and tentatively pushed it open a crack. A strange chill hit him in the face. As he shivered, he almost immediately realized—

This place probably indeed had things that didn’t belong to this side.

He soon met the elderly couple.

Due to prolonged terror, like many clients Han Sha had encountered before, both had dark circles around their eyes and haggard faces – according to Han Sha’s master’s theory, evil qi had entered their bodies.

The husband said they couldn’t sleep because there were sounds in the house.

It was a sound they found very difficult to describe in words – like rapidly wriggling lips, but only making breath sounds through teeth gaps, not at all like human speech.

For several consecutive nights, such sounds came from behind the first-floor bookshelves. Due to large inventory, the walking space in the bookstore was already narrow. Even looking down from the second-floor stairs, there were still many visual blind spots. Combined with the couple’s poor eyesight, unless they walked right up close, they couldn’t verify whether anything was actually there.

So all night long, they could only listen.

Both were over sixty, with children not nearby. Encountering such situations, they didn’t dare take risks, only enduring through entire nights. Not until going downstairs the next day would they discover that some books in the shop had been moved to different positions, and some had even mysteriously disappeared.

Initially, the husband had considered reporting to police. However, on the very day he was preparing to go to the police station, another strange incident occurred in the shop.

It was broad daylight. The husband, having listened to strange sounds all night, was organizing the bookshelves, confirming they’d lost books again, and preparing to go out. But just then, a strange sound suddenly came from deep within the bookstore.

Like a tongue click, very crisp.

Instantly, the husband broke out in cold sweat.

His wife was washing clothes on the second floor – he could even hear the washing machine’s rumbling. No matter what, there shouldn’t be anyone else on the first floor.

Was there someone in the corner?

Thinking of the strange sounds over many days, the husband immediately grabbed scissors from the cash register and slowly approached the corner where the sound came from. Soon he discovered it was completely empty.

Pop.

Another sound, this time behind him. A book had fallen.

The husband went over again – still no one there.

Pop, pop, pop.

Several times in succession, books fell to the ground for no reason. Each time the man felt his way over, he saw nothing. Finally, he realized a problem.

Each time a book fell, it was behind him.

In other words, that thing was actually following him around in this cramped space, circling with him.

Instantly, goosebumps rose on the husband’s neck. He took a deep breath and suddenly spun around.

This time, he finally saw it vaguely.

In the gaps between bookshelves, a deathly pale face was hiding.

“It’s that girl…”

The husband was already exhausted. From that day on, they gave up on reporting to police. The husband said: “The girl who had the car accident was originally a regular customer here. That day she was apparently coming to pick out books, but such a thing happened… so she probably hates us.”

“Hates you?”

Since becoming qualified, Han Sha had also resolved several grudge cases, but had never heard such an absurd reason for enmity: “Why do you think it’s that girl? What was your previous relationship with her like?”

The wife’s expression darkened: “Because both our eyes aren’t very good, in the past when doing business we often relied on students’ conscientiousness. Later we thought about it – when these students came before, to put us at ease while looking for books in the bookstore, they would make sounds after a while to tell us… just like the situation with books repeatedly falling that day.”

The husband also supplemented: “Also, later I carefully checked those books that had changed position or disappeared – they were all novels that little girl used to love reading… there’s no mistake, it’s definitely her.”

The couple spoke with certainty, but Han Sha became more puzzled the more he listened.

As far as he knew, any evil ghost lingering in the mortal world due to harbored resentment would never stop at such superficial attempts. Most clients who had sought him before were already in mortal danger.

This was the first time Han Sha had encountered a deceased soul that had been causing disturbances for nearly a month yet never harmed the afflicted parties.

He thought for a moment: “So what do you hope I’ll do?”

At this point the wife tremblingly moved a small stack of books from behind the cash register, all tied neatly with red rope. The husband also brought out a large bag of paper ingots they’d bought, containing quite a few paper schoolbags and paper dresses specially bought for the child.

The husband sighed: “She’s a good child, Daoist. We hope you won’t make things difficult for her either – just let her be reborn properly… We don’t know what this child likes, so we thought to burn some books she enjoyed for her, hoping she can depart peacefully in the end.”

“…I understand.”

Though he’d never performed such a ritual before, Han Sha was determined to thoroughly clarify matters before sending the girl to her next life.

After surveying the shop, he soon chose a small open space in the deepest part of the bookstore.

The urgent task was finding an appropriate way to communicate with the other party.

Han Sha moved all the books away, lit a fire basin on the spot, throwing written talismans into it one by one while silently chanting: “Wandering souls drift about, where do they linger? Those who hear my incantation, quickly come forth in spirit.”

After reciting dozens of times, Han Sha shook his bell three times, each time heavier than the last. With the final bell sound, a stiff human figure outside the shop suddenly flickered – not very tall, actually like a child.

“Wait!”

Han Sha hadn’t expected the other party to come so quickly. He hurriedly chased out, but when he pulled open the door, where was any child outside?

The small road was completely empty, with only a torn page from an exercise book fallen at the doorway, with a red character written crookedly on it.

“Escape.”

By the time Han Sha reached this point in his story, goosebumps had risen on my back. I instinctively wanted to find He Jian to grab onto, but suffering from only having Song Nanshi beside me, I could only silently scoot my bottom half a body-width toward her, opening my mouth tremblingly.

“Old Han, I’ve already experienced too much tonight. Whatever you want to say, just say it directly. Stop scaring me, okay?”

Han Sha crossed his arms and looked at me strangely: “This story has been very heartwarming so far. What’s scary about it?”

“…Heartwarming?”

I didn’t understand, but I was greatly shocked.

For some reason, Song Nanshi actually looked somewhat moved: “So actually that child was well-intentioned? She hoped the couple would leave?”

Han Sha nodded: “I haven’t finished this story yet. Later, at my suggestion, the couple temporarily moved away from that house. Then about a week later, their bookstore was robbed. Police found scouting marks at the door – habitual criminals who had also committed crimes in other provinces, targeting vulnerable groups for robbery and kidnapping, torturing victims before silencing them.”

He Jian thought for a moment: “So if they had still been staying in the house, they very likely would have died?”

Han Sha said coolly: “Because foot traffic on this road was very low after the car accident – even other businesses had closed – the criminals had targeted them precisely for this reason.”

He sighed again: “I felt early on that what was in that house wasn’t a malevolent spirit – at least it didn’t want to harm them. Later, when they moved back, that house never had problems again. Even the voices they’d hear at night disappeared.”

Throughout his speech, Han Sha kept looking at me. I realized what he wanted to express: “So you’re saying… there are also these relatively reasonable deceased souls? The one who keeps delivering newspapers to me is like this too?”

Han Sha nodded and was about to explain, but then He Jian suddenly interrupted him, saying hesitantly: “But could there be other explanations for this incident?”