Chapter 123: Eyes

The building wasn’t tall, only five stories. From the outside, the white plaster was peeling, and several spots were blackened from rainwater soaking the walls. It looked like the face of a dying person.

Or perhaps a tombstone.

Xiao Jian, startled, led the way.

Xu Jun, walking beside me, said that they found Xu Xiaokang in a rundown room on the fifth floor.

I nodded, pulling out my compass. I’d had it for a while, and it no longer felt cold in my hand.

The needle wobbled slightly. There were some wandering spirits inside, but they were too weak to linger, scared off by the sound of our footsteps.

Xiao Jian ran ahead, barking loudly on the fifth floor.

“Coming!” I hoisted a sack of rice and dashed up.

Xu Jun tried to keep up, but by the time I reached the fifth floor, he was still on the third. Clearly, his stamina was lacking—too much time in a lab researching drugs, not enough exercise. He couldn’t even carry a fifty-jin sack of rice.

I set the rice down and waited for him on the fifth floor.

The fifth floor had four small rooms, their doors creaking and unstable. Some door panels had fallen to the ground. Jiang City had seen autumn rain recently, and water stains lingered in the corridor, likely drifting in through a large public window.

At one doorway, I noticed strange white fur and two dried pieces of animal droppings.

A chilly breeze came from one of the rooms—not exactly a ghostly wind, but it felt cold on my skin. I recalled a line from Lu Xun: “A gust of eerie wind, and a crowd of disheveled, bald, thin, fat, male, female, old, and young ghosts appeared.” The memory stuck with me. Following the breeze’s direction, I hoped I wouldn’t encounter a mob of ghosts in all shapes and sizes.

First, I saw the door number: 502.

Then I felt a single eye watching me. Not two eyes—one.

(The sensation was eerie. If someone stared at you with both eyes from a doorway, you might not feel scared. But if they hid behind a wall, showing just one eye, it was clearly malicious. Or perhaps, they only had one eye.)

The feeling was strange. I rubbed my eyes, looked again, and saw nothing.

“Xu Jun, why haven’t you come up yet?” I called from the stairwell.

No sound but my own voice echoed back.

No footsteps from Xu Jun climbing the stairs, no response to my call.

A bad feeling hit me—I’d run into something supernatural.

Without hesitation, I bolted downstairs. Xu Jun should be on the third floor. I’d run too fast and left him behind, careless of me.

Xiao Jian led the way. Ever since it saw the starving ghost, I suspected its eyes could now spot otherworldly things.

I reached the third floor in one breath and saw Xu Jun, still carrying the rice sack, frozen in front of a door. He was mimicking the motion of climbing stairs, sweat dripping from his forehead, as if he thought he was still moving upward.

Damn, he was under a ghost’s spell.

The ghost made him think he was climbing, exhausting him.

Xiao Jian ran over, lifted its right hind leg, and peed on Xu Jun’s foot. The urine broke the spell.

The stench snapped Xu Jun awake. He opened his eyes and shouted, “Why am I still here? Did I make it to the top?”

“You tell me,” I said grimly, startling him.

Scaring someone can be deadly.

Xu Jun noticed the door number—302—and realized he was on the third floor. “I was climbing with that rice sack, nearly killing myself with exhaustion, and I’m still on the third floor. Did I run into something unclean?”

I laughed. “Big Brother Xu, don’t worry. Maybe a resident thought you were delivering rice and invited you in. It’s not an evil ghost. Come on, let’s head to the fifth floor.”

I grabbed Xu Jun’s arm. The little incident gave me a sense of how dangerous this old building could be.

It was still afternoon, with sunlight pouring in, and yet a ghost had cast a spell. If we managed to drive out the starving ghost, it might cause chaos at dusk.

Pig Ear Ghost had said that to drive out all the starving ghosts, we needed to act at twilight, when the sun sets, yang energy weakens, and yin energy rises. That’s when starving ghosts are most active.

This time, I held onto Xu Jun to make sure he didn’t get lost again.

From room 302 behind us, I heard a cough…

On the fifth floor, Xu Jun pointed out room 502, where they’d found Xu Xiaokang.

Room 502 was a two-bedroom apartment with a living room. A poster of the Ten Marshals hung on the wall. In one bedroom, faded red paper with a yellowed “福” (fortune) character adorned the wall.

In the middle of the bedroom stood an old Sanyo radio, the kind that played news or old cassette tapes. Before TVs became common, nearly every household had one. By 1986, Cui Jian’s Nothing to My Name sparked a rock ‘n’ roll craze across cities. Young men wore bell-bottoms and grew long hair, while women donned oversized suit shirts. Groups would carry radios like this, dancing and swinging their heads.

“Is this the place?” I asked.

Xu Jun nodded. “We found Xiaokang right under that old radio.”

I was skeptical. The room didn’t feel particularly eerie, and the single eye I’d sensed earlier was gone.

Maybe it came from another room.

I opened the rickety window fully, letting a ray of sunlight from the west drive out the remaining yin energy.

Xu Jun, still trembling, hurried to stand in the sunlight, looking more at ease.

I paced the room repeatedly and found a photo in a corner—a black-and-white image of a young woman with two braids, likely from the 1950s or 60s. She was vibrant, dressed in a military uniform.

She probably had a red flower pinned to her chest, perhaps from when she enlisted. Unfortunately, rainwater had blurred her face, making her expression unreadable.

At the bottom, I faintly made out a name: Ye Wenxin.

The young woman was likely Ye Wenxin, but after all these years, she was probably long gone, reduced to bones.

Seeing my expression, Xu Jun asked, “What’s wrong? Something off?”

I nodded. “This place is strange. It doesn’t feel like a place where a starving ghost would linger.”

The military uniform photo deepened my doubts about Xu Jun’s lead. Was Xu Xiaokang really found unconscious here?

Xu Jun asked why.

I explained that the person who lived here was likely an old lady who’d served in the military when young—a kind-hearted person. A place like this wouldn’t suit an evil ghost.

The Mirror of the Eight Houses says that people and their homes influence each other. If a righteous, upright old lady lived here for fifty years, the house would reflect her morality and justice for fifty years. It couldn’t become a haunted place.

Xu Jun said he didn’t understand but trusted my judgment.

I couldn’t shake the unease about that single eye. My earlier reasoning lacked certainty. I took out the compass and checked it repeatedly, but the needle showed no unusual movement.

Xu Jun asked what to do next.

I didn’t have a clear plan but figured we could try something. I asked Xu Jun to help spread the two sacks of rice across the room, especially in the corners. After half an hour of work, I noticed Xiao Jian staring at the old radio. I opened it and found a stack of damaged cassette tapes, their screws rusted.

A small paper label was stuck to one, but the song title was illegible.

I quickly put everything back. Taking someone else’s belongings could invite trouble, especially if that eye caught me stealing. It wasn’t worth it for a broken tape.

Xu Jun suddenly called my name. I rushed over.

He said he’d accidentally righted a fallen stool and found it crawling with black centipedes.

“Centipedes thrive in damp places. It’s normal, don’t worry,” I reassured him.

After spreading the rice, I taped two Donglingzi ghost-capturing talismans to the wall, propped up the broken door, and closed room 502.

Xu Jun asked if we were done.

I nodded. “Almost. I’ll check back tomorrow at noon. I’ll call you with updates. If all goes well, by tomorrow evening, Xu Xiaokang should be free.”

Xu Jun thanked me profusely.

At the roadside, I eyed a peach tree with rough bark. I asked Xu Jun to keep watch, took out my self-defense knife, and carved a circle around a main branch. I snapped it off, trimmed the leaves, and removed excess parts, leaving a branch about the length of my arm.

Xu Jun kept lookout, wary of gardeners. Seeing me with the peach branch, he asked, “Brother, are you making a peachwood sword? I heard they’re used to kill ghosts.”

I scanned the area and saw a gardener charging toward us. We ran. The gardener, furious, scolded us for ruining a peach tree. Glancing at the five-story building, he lowered his voice, clasped his hands, and bowed repeatedly toward it.

Xu Jun gave a wry smile. Two grown men stealing a peach branch worth less than two yuan.

I clarified, “Not a peachwood sword. It has another use. You’ll see tomorrow.”