Chapter 45: The Little Girl

After spending several days in Thailand, he’d tanned several shades darker. Upon returning home, Li Ruoke nearly had a quarrel with customs officials, all because she’d bought a bit too much on behalf of others. Everything she carried was purchased from legitimate stores, but when the officer merely asked her some routine questions, she couldn’t help but snap back at him. In the end, only with Qi Yan and Li Lan taking turns to smooth things over did the situation finally calm down.

This time, not only did Li Ruoke manage to bring back everything her clients had requested, but she also sought out a special talisman from an Ajarn. It was a square, golden charm, etched with various runes, a little larger than an unfolded napkin. There was no need to paste it on the wall: simply placing it somewhere at home was supposed to ward off evil and keep the household safe. Whether it actually worked, though, was perhaps best left to the imagination. So far, Qi Yan hadn’t seen anything particularly effective in Li Ruoke’s shop that could suppress his own spirit tablet.

After this return, Li Ruoke declared she’d be taking a short vacation to rest before getting back to work at her shop, since there was nothing urgent to attend to. With August drawing to a close, Li Lan’s school year was about to begin. Whatever measures the siblings planned to take regarding Li Lan’s newly acquired spirit tablet, or how they’d face up to it, Qi Yan had no way of knowing.

Ever since he’d gone into business with Li Ruoke, although work was never particularly busy, perhaps because he was now technically his own boss, Qi Yan realized he’d never actually taken a proper rest at home. Unlike the days when he’d worked for others and longed for the weekend, he no longer kept track of weekdays or holidays.

The three of them parted ways at the airport, each hailing a taxi home. Maybe it was the lingering anxiety from his last nerve-wracking return, but Qi Yan didn’t dare fall asleep in the cab this time, worried some stray stun baton might zap the back of his neck again.

With a small suitcase in hand, he took a cab straight to his apartment complex. He rented a place in the business district of Xinzhu City, a popular area for young professionals. The apartment was modest—a standard studio—but well-equipped, reasonably priced, though the soundproofing left much to be desired. Traffic noise at night could be bothersome, but he was used to it.

Their return flight had landed around six in the evening, so by the time he reached home, it was already half past nine.

At this hour, his building was still some distance from the main nightlife strip, so the area was fairly quiet. Occasionally, he glimpsed a few joggers in tracksuits, puffing past the green lawns on their nightly runs.

Just then, his phone rang—“Dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun-dun…”—and with one hand dragging his suitcase, Qi Yan answered the call, strolling slowly toward his building.

The caller ID read “Dong Ye,” with the nickname “Leaf.”

“Let it go… Huh, I’m back, just got home and about to—what? Xu Dan is breaking up with you again? …Why did I say ‘again’? Seriously, you don’t know? Is there a single month when you two aren’t breaking up? …What? It’s real this time? Oh, so all the other times were fake, is that it? …Banana Bar? …Right now?! …I just got off a plane, haven’t even unpacked—alright, alright, stop whining, just wait for me, I’ll catch a cab over… Yeah, yeah, we’ll talk when I get there.”

By the time he finished speaking, Qi Yan had come to a halt, resigned. He’d just returned home, exhausted from travel, hoping to collapse into bed, but Dong Ye had to go and have another breakup the moment Qi Yan was almost home.

He was exasperated—ready to throttle someone. Shouldn’t a good friend offer comfort when a brother faces heartbreak? Why was he so impatient, then? It was simple: Dong Ye and Xu Dan put on this drama all the time, like an endless circus—break up, make up, on and on, sometimes three times a month. Sometimes, when their pride flared, both would post flowery breakup declarations on their social media, only to start sharing sweet couple photos a few days later.

The first few times, Qi Yan had dutifully gone to console him, but after gaining some experience, he stopped—such volatile couples were the hardest to separate. It was always the couples who seemed sweet and harmonious who split for good with a single quarrel.

They were all young after all, and loved to stir up trouble.

If Qi Yan hadn’t heard the choked sobs over the line—Dong Ye was clearly drunk—he wouldn’t have bothered. With a few days off ahead, he figured he might as well go; worst case, he’d just drag Dong Ye home before he could start his monologue of misery.

What to do? He’d have to hail another cab. If only Dong Ye had called a minute earlier, he wouldn’t have had to turn around.

Just as he turned back, Qi Yan noticed, about five or six meters away on the sidewalk, a little girl squatting alone. She had long, jet-black hair, her small face buried in her knees, wearing a bright red one-piece dress, legs tucked up, with no adult in sight. She looked no more than five or six, and sat there all alone…

Strangely, just moments ago there had been a few other pedestrians nearby, but now there was no one. Apart from the rows of bright streetlights, it was just him and this suddenly appeared little girl.

Usually, when a child acts like this, she’s crying, but there wasn’t a sound—not a single sob.

Qi Yan deliberately cleared his throat, yet the girl seemed not to hear, remaining curled up and perfectly still.

At that moment, a taxi with its “vacant” light on pulled up, the driver rolling down his window to call out, “Are you coming?”

Qi Yan glanced at the girl for another few seconds, then nodded, “Yes, please, could you open the trunk for my suitcase?” Without further hesitation, he climbed into the car, gave his destination, and the taxi pulled away.

Qi Yan kept his eyes fixed on the window. To confirm his suspicions, he asked the driver, “Did you see a little girl over there just now?”

“Where? No, I didn’t.” The driver hadn’t noticed a thing and answered distractedly.

The driver hadn’t seen her? That settled it—his guess was right.

A well-dressed little girl, sitting all alone on an empty street at night, neither crying nor making a sound—what could that mean? Even if Qi Yan hadn’t become so accustomed to seeing spirits, any ordinary person would have found it odd.

The cab drove a little further, and Qi Yan turned to check the rearview mirror. Sure enough, the little girl had vanished completely—the spot where she’d been was now empty.

Fortunately, the taxi soon reached a livelier part of town, and nothing else strange occurred. Qi Yan pushed the encounter from his mind, chalking it up as a chance meeting with a passing spirit.

What he failed to notice, however, was the fine red thread clinging to the back of his T-shirt…