While we hadn't figured out a solution, Uncle Ye had another accident—unrelated to any ghosts. He fell gravely ill.

It turned out that even possessing the Sarira couldn't guarantee immunity from sickness.

Uncle Ye's illness was severe; he was suddenly struck by excruciating chest pain. I rushed him to the hospital, but a month later, he passed away.

The only thing he charged me with before dying was to quickly hand the Sarira over to his son, Ye Wenmo.

After seeing Uncle Ye off, I was deeply dispirited, practically hitting rock bottom, even despairing.

Given the trend of events, it was highly likely that after Uncle Ye's death, it would be Ye Wenmo's turn. Now, not only did I have no idea where Ye Wenmo was, but I couldn't even get any updates on Pi Hou'er.

Thinking back now, I truly wished mobile phones had become common back then; sadly, that was impossible.

The mountain temple was deserted. I carefully closed the gate, glancing back with a profoundly unsettled feeling.

After returning to town, I had absolutely no sense of direction. The post office still held no news of Pi Hou'er or Ye Wenmo. I stayed in town for a while, during which I took a job serving meals at a small diner—at least it included room and board.

Finally, one day, I made an incredibly selfish decision: I resolved to go home and distance myself from everything.

I knew this decision was not just selfish, but perhaps cruel—to simply abandon Pi Hou'er and Ye Wenmo. Maybe I should have tried to find a way to go abroad too, but I just couldn't shake the feeling; deep down, I yearned to forget it all and return home to live my own quiet life.

I was exhausted, truly drained in body and soul.

I visited Pi Hou'er’s place; thankfully, I still had his key. The house was empty, seemingly uninhabited for a long time. Pi Hou'er hadn't returned at all.

I worried that if he went to my hometown, he wouldn't find me, but then I quickly reasoned that his tracking skills were excellent, and my family knew our address anyway. Father still kept in touch with Uncle Guang; after all, without him, my family would have met disaster long ago.

I kept repeating these reassurances to myself, manufacturing excuses for my decision to go home and live my own life.

Sometimes, self-hypnosis actually works. Because I carried Uncle Ye's Sarira, the time that followed was quite smooth for me. My father was overjoyed when I returned, not even asking about my time away. I only told him selective parts, which still left him shaken, constantly murmuring, "It's good you're back, it's good you're back..."

I decided to look for work, but with my limited education, I could only do heavy labor like hauling things at construction sites until I eventually found a job as a waiter in a restaurant, settling down somewhat.

At first, I still visited Pi Hou'er's house every few days. It was still an empty residence. I feared my presence might attract the attention of his neighbors, so I carefully chose times when I was off work or late at night.

Gradually, I grew numb, not only accepting my life but nearly forgetting the experiences of the past. I felt that having the Sarira with me, not encountering that thing felt wonderful.

But I suppose fate decreed I wouldn't live a peaceful life, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this down.

When did Father pass? Last year or the year before? I actually couldn't recall the exact time.

Returning home alone after settling everything, I felt utterly hollow inside, suspended between heaven and earth. I hadn't cried before, but looking at the empty house, I suddenly burst into uncontrollable tears.

After staying home quietly for a day and a night, I felt a sudden urge to go out and walk. I left the house aimlessly, strolling down the street, walking and walking, until I snapped back to awareness and realized I was standing right below Pi Hou'er's building.

Perhaps because it was warm and late in the evening, I saw a few elderly people sitting by the flowerbeds cooling themselves.

"...I'm definitely having my kid find us a new place to move to..." one old man's voice reached my ears.

I paid it no mind, just staring blankly at the entrance to his building, debating whether to go up and take a look now.

But the next remark caught my attention.

"What's wrong? You can still hear strange noises from next door?" The old man instinctively lowered his voice slightly.

"Right? Every midnight, I hear this 'woo-woo' sound. The more I listen, the more it sounds like someone crying. I’m a light sleeper, I can't stand it. I’ve checked during the day several times, but the place is empty. There’s nothing you can do even if you call the police..." the first old man’s voice picked up again.

"Hasn't it been quiet for a while?" Another elderly person joined the conversation.

The one who started the topic sounded slightly puzzled too: "It has. It always disappears for a period. I remember there were a few days about a month ago when I didn't hear it. After the sound vanished, I thought it was over, but I didn't expect it to start up again. Who can stand this? Otherwise, I wouldn't want to move. What’s even stranger is that, apart from me, nobody else seems to hear it..."

At this point, they seemed to notice me standing silently to the side, so they stopped their conversation and looked at me curiously a few times.

I sensed something was amiss, but the way the old people were looking at me suggested they were wary of a stranger. After some thought, I decided not to approach them for answers and instead turned and walked away from Pi Hou'er's building.

The old man's words sparked some speculation. The first thing that came to mind was Pi Hou'er’s apartment, because I vaguely remembered seeing that old man come out of the neighboring door when I lived with Pi Hou'er.

Secondly, the timeframe he mentioned—about a month ago—was the last time I had checked on his place. Although I didn't know when the old man started hearing the strange, crying sound, an idea took root: Pi Hou'er might have returned, or rather, Pi Hou'er's ghost might have returned.

All my prior experiences flashed back instantly. Later, I wondered why I immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was Pi Hou'er’s ghost.

The thought startled me. To be honest, I desperately hoped that wasn't the case, because if it were true, it meant Pi Hou'er was dead.

I didn't leave but stayed at a distance, observing downstairs at Pi Hou'er's place. I waited until the elderly people enjoying the evening breeze had gradually dispersed, then I cautiously returned. Seeing no one around to notice me, I tiptoed to Pi Hou'er’s front door.

I opened his door and stepped inside. After a moment of hesitation, I didn't turn on the light. The moonlight filtering through the window illuminated the room well enough, and having lived there for a significant time, I was quite familiar with the layout. If I turned on the light, I feared I might draw attention from the neighbors.

I didn't know what I would do if I actually saw Pi Hou'er—would he harm me like those other ghosts, or would he be angry because I hadn't looked for him, or perhaps he wouldn't even recognize me anymore?

Do ghosts even have feelings... So many thoughts flashed through my mind one after another. I sat on the [blank space in original text] and couldn't help but descend into wild speculation.

Time slowly crept toward midnight, and the myriad thoughts still refused to leave. Suddenly, one realization struck me.

"Crap..." I gasped involuntarily.