Chapter 55: The Jintang Cement Factory

The Jintang Cement Factory loomed dark and sprawling, a shadowy mass stretching over a hundred meters. The bridge leading to it still held streetlights, but at the far end, there was no illumination at all. Perhaps it would be easier to search in daylight, but knowing that Dong Ye was likely inside, Qi Yan had no intention of waiting.

It was just past four o’clock, at least two hours before dawn. Two hours… even an extra two minutes could be dangerous!

Qi Yan reached the head of the bridge, and Xu Dan, unable to suppress her worry, asked, “Wait a moment, if the one trying to harm Dong Ye really is a ghost, do you think the two of us can actually rescue him?”

“That depends on how powerful the ghost is…” Qi Yan wasn’t without fear, but in this situation, he knew only he could try to save Dong Ye. Even though Dong Ye knew Qi Yan was being haunted by a Thai spirit and had become somewhat dangerous, he hadn’t kept his distance out of fear.

That little girl in red had first appeared to Qi Yan, yet she hadn’t attached herself to him, but shifted her focus to Dong Ye. Which meant… there was a strong possibility Dong Ye was caught up in this because of Qi Yan, making it impossible for him to stand idly by.

Besides, Qi Yan felt a certain confidence—if the opponent was indeed a ghost, it was still too soon to say who should fear whom…

Earlier, as they retraced their steps, their pace had been brisk, but now, crossing the bridge, they slowed considerably. The road had changed, and the surroundings were emptier, lonelier; even the roar of cars behind them grew faint. The bridge itself was newly built, with little decoration beyond a few flower baskets yet to be filled and two rows of widely spaced orchid-pillar streetlights. Their yellow glow rendered the area dim rather than bright.

“Do you think… if I hadn’t argued with him, would he have avoided all this tonight?” Xu Dan walked behind Qi Yan, her voice low and reflective.

Qi Yan gave a bitter smile. “Don’t take everything on yourself. If you really want to blame someone, I should have ignored him when he called me to the bar… Getting beaten by some thugs is better than getting entangled with ghosts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh… I’ll explain the details after we find him safe and sound. But tonight’s events aren’t your fault.” Qi Yan continued tugging the red thread, leading the way.

Despite his words, Xu Dan felt guilty. It’s in moments like these that self-reproach comes easily, especially for girls.

“We argue all the time, but I never really want to break up with him… Thinking about it now, it’s always over trivial things—if we just talked clearly, it’d be fine. Why do I always have to be so dramatic… And him, too, if he’d just softened a little, I’d have compromised right then.”

Qi Yan was tense, but since Xu Dan had shifted the conversation, he took the opportunity to ease his nerves. “You know I usually don’t comment much about you two, but let me say this once—just so you know, I’m not taking sides…”

“Xu Dan, you’re a good girl, and Dong Ye’s a good man. The two of you are practically models for modern city couples. But you can’t expect your boyfriend to do everything exactly as you wish, especially guys our age. Not wanting to go shopping, forgetting Christmas gifts, or only replying ‘It’s okay’ when you show him new clothes… come on, we’re straight guys, it’s normal to have these flaws.”

Xu Dan pursed her lips and nodded slightly. “Yeah… Oh, by the way, since you understand all this so well, why didn’t you stay together with Chen Huiting?”

She was referring to Qi Yan’s college girlfriend, who was also Xu Dan’s close friend.

Qi Yan thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I wanted to be with her, but not after she found out I was secretly texting another girl from the dance academy…”

“Oh my god! You two broke up because you cheated?!”

“Calm down, nothing actually happened. I never even met that girl—I just… you know, fantasized a little online. Think of it as indulging a minor wicked impulse inside, nothing more.” It was embarrassing to admit, even after so much time.

Xu Dan looked at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe it, sometimes you really are a jerk—and so oddly clean-cut about it.”

“Hey! I never claimed to be a ‘nice guy,’ don’t be fooled by my slightly cute, delicate face.” Qi Yan criticized himself without a care, almost proudly…

Xu Dan couldn’t help laughing, but quickly caught herself. “Uh… isn’t it a bit inappropriate to be chatting so casually right now? Dong Ye’s fate is still unknown.”

“Thanks, genius. Just when I finally got my mind off it, you pulled me right back,” Qi Yan shook his head helplessly.

By then, guided by the red thread, they had reached the bridgehead on the factory side.

After passing the last streetlight, the road ahead was pitch black, their vision swallowed by darkness.

They knew little about the Jintang Cement Factory, only that it had been there for many years. Most of the buildings still stood, but whether abandoned or not was unclear—at this hour, there certainly shouldn’t be anyone inside.

Following the red thread deeper, they passed two three-story buildings, covered in climbing ivy, their windows broken and ragged.

Some cement bags were still piled on the road, the surface uneven and strewn with rubble.

It was eerily quiet. From here, they could only see the road they’d come from, back across the bridge.

Qi Yan thought to turn on his phone’s flashlight, but saw he had only seventeen percent battery left. He stopped and asked Xu Dan, “Do you have enough battery? I think it’s going to be really hard to find anyone in this huge factory.”

But Xu Dan’s phone was also low on power—if they switched it on now, it might not last.

Qi Yan decided to keep walking; they could turn on the light only when it became truly impossible to see.

After a while, they found themselves in a narrow space between several massive workshops. The road was only a few meters wide, surrounded by white, hard factory walls and crisscrossed with narrow channels along the edges.

They kept following the red thread, and though the place grew more dangerous with each step, there was nothing to do but press on.

“Yezi, are you there?!”

“Come on, don’t scare me. If you can hear us, say something!”

They walked, heads lifted, scanning their surroundings and calling out loudly.

But for all their shouting, only a faint echo returned.

“Dong Ye?!” Qi Yan called again, then suddenly stopped dead.

He realized the red thread in his hand had ended—not slipped away, but simply reached its limit. Only a few inches remained, with no sign of Dong Ye anywhere.

“What kind of joke is this? That’s it? Where’s the person?!”

He glared in frustration, but just then, from the empty space above the workshops, a children’s song began to echo, its source impossible to pinpoint. The melody lingered, the lyrics indistinct, but the words could be made out:

“Bloody red~ bloody red~~~ a red thread makes a dress, can’t go back, it’s all dark~~~ cold and lonely~ cold and lonely~~~ where are your friends hiding~~~? When the sun rises, sew the eyes~~~ sew the eyes… hee hee hee, hehe hehe, ha ha ha ha~~~”