Your House Has a Ghost

Song Hanshan was a very clever woman. She could see that Jiang Xinrou had unsettled An Yang, so she ordered a bottle of baijiu.

In love, women are tender, weaker in temperament, and more delicate in thought. But when a breakup truly comes, they might cry their hearts out. Yet as time slowly passes, it's often the seemingly stronger man who remembers more deeply.

An Yang was exactly that.

Though his feelings now might have faded, he had once shared vows of eternal love and earth-shattering passion. Once memories were stirred, his mood still sank.

Song Hanshan didn't drink, and he didn't urge her to.

After a few mouthfuls of liquor, An Yang felt his head grow warm. Today's events were like a trigger, pulling out all those memories.

Jiang Xinrou was the department beauty of the Foreign Languages faculty. It was well known that the faculty had far more women than men, a sea of beauties. Jiang Xinrou, who had stood out from that crowd, needed no introduction. From the start, she was held in many hands, with countless suitors chasing after her.

Yet An Yang, with his youthful guitar skills, decent basketball, and a personality that was neither a player nor dull, managed to win the goddess's heart. Later, when Jiang Xinrou talked about it, she said what attracted her most was his character.

Their meeting should be traced back to the Peach Blossom Festival in their freshman year—a joint outing between a Computer Science class desperate for women and a Foreign Languages class overflowing with them...

An Yang firmly believed he had forgotten Jiang Xinrou. He also firmly believed that his body and heart were now focused on Nie Xiaoqian. But he had to admit he was drunk—drunk solely for the reckless youth and memories of the past.

In a daze, a year had passed since graduation.

At some point, Song Hanshan asked him, "Let me take you back. Is your girlfriend at home? Call her."

An Yang mumbled, "She's home, but she hasn't learned to use a phone yet. Calling won't help."

Song Hanshan paused. She was starting to doubt whether An Yang's girlfriend even existed. Then, with a wry smile, she said, "Then do you remember what floor and room you live on? Did you bring your keys?"

"Keys are in my pocket, and there's one on the doorframe too... Room 6, 12th floor!"

Song Hanshan froze for a moment, fished the keys from his pocket, and called a waiter to help her carry him out.

The Audi R8 roared as it left the hotel parking lot.

Nearby, an ordinary Volkswagen CC was still parked. Inside sat a very beautiful woman, calmly watching the taillights disappear.

Song Hanshan struggled to support An Yang out of the elevator, groping her way through the pitch-black hallway. She used her phone's flashlight to search door by door.

"What kind of property management doesn't even have hallway lights?"

Finally, she found 12-6. She rang the doorbell first, and when no one answered, she knocked.

"Bang, bang, bang!"

"Anyone home?"

"Bang, bang, bang!"

No response!

Song Hanshan shook her head with a bitter smile, pulled out the key to open the door, steadied An Yang again, and fumbled for the light switch. She stood at the entrance, scanning the room once, then helped An Yang inside and let him collapse onto the sofa.

"You're so heavy. I'm exhausted. Alright, consider this repayment for the favor you did me last time."

An Yang didn't answer.

Only then did Song Hanshan have time to look over the apartment.

The room was small, with sparse furnishings—almost everything visible at a glance. But everything was tidy. A faint, pleasant fragrance filled the air, a bit strange, as if it carried a hint of a woman's scent. In short, it didn't feel like a man's place.

Suddenly, she froze.

All the windows were covered by pitch-black curtains, sealed tight. She could imagine that even during the day, not a single ray of light would seep through.

No one was inside—she'd known that from knocking.

But the TV was on!

Had An Yang left without turning it off?

Or was his girlfriend home, but asleep and hadn't heard the doorbell or knocking?

Bringing him back late at night, opening the door herself, and helping him into the living room—wouldn't that cause a misunderstanding?

Song Hanshan thought about it, then stood up and aimed for a door that looked like a bedroom. She knocked gently.

"Knock, knock, knock."

"Anyone there?"

"Is An Yang's girlfriend home?"

Still no response!

"Could she be sleeping that deeply?"

Song Hanshan opened the door and flicked on the light with a click.

It was indeed a bedroom. The bed was neatly made, the blanket folded properly—clearly An Yang's bedroom in use, and completely empty.

She finally confirmed it: An Yang's home had only himself. Not a trace of the girlfriend he mentioned, not even a pet.

Song Hanshan retreated to the living room, used all her strength to drag An Yang from the sofa to the bedroom bed, and took off his shoes and socks for him.

"Such a strong smell of alcohol."

Song Hanshan sniffed lightly, thought for a moment, then reached out to unbutton An Yang's shirt, struggling to pull it off him.

But she had no idea that behind her, at the doorway, stood a woman in a white dress, her gaze fixed on her, growing colder with every movement of undressing An Yang.

"Hoo..."

Song Hanshan let out a sigh of relief and looked for a hanger to put the shirt on. But as soon as she opened the wardrobe, she froze.

A brand-new officer uniform lay inside, accompanied by shoulder boards, a cap badge, collar insignia, and a golden medal!

"He... he's actually an officer!"

"No wonder he could subdue two thugs in one move, no wonder his manner was so tough, no wonder he knew Old Qin, no wonder... his back always felt so straight!"

Song Hanshan wasn't exactly a military enthusiast. She couldn't identify the rank represented by the shoulder boards, just as she couldn't tell the difference between this Type 87 Officer Uniform and the current active-duty one.

Suddenly, her peripheral vision caught something—there were also several sets of women's clothes in the wardrobe, including underwear.

"He really does have a girlfriend!"

"Oh no, and I took off his clothes!"

Song Hanshan awkwardly closed the wardrobe, put down the shirt, and wanted to leave. But as she glanced around, she noticed an extra key on the transparent coffee table in the living room!

She patted herself down and suddenly remembered that the key she'd left in the door might not have been pulled out. Running to the entrance, she saw that the key in the door was already gone!

Song Hanshan snapped back to reality, staring at the key on the coffee table. A chill ran down her spine. All the strange phenomena in this apartment began to converge in her mind, and instinct sparked a terrifying guess that made her shiver.

"I... I'm not haunted, am I?"

As she thought this, the lights in the room suddenly went out. In a blur, a white shadow flashed by!

"Ah!"

She screamed and bolted out the door. Suddenly remembering that An Ran was still inside, she turned to look back—a white shadow darted into the bedroom!

"Bang!"

The door in front of her slammed shut on its own!

"Ah! A ghost!"

Terrified, Song Hanshan's speed rivaled Liu Xiang's as she ran to the elevator, frantically pressing the button. But in her panic, the elevator refused to come. Fortunately, the ghost in the room didn't chase after her. When the elevator finally arrived, she stepped inside, even more unsettled.

She was alone in the elevator!

A long while later—

The Audi R8 roared away!

Upstairs, a white shadow watched her departure.

Nie Xiaoqian withdrew her gaze, turned silently to look at An Yang, and helped him take off his pants, folding them together with his shirt. She then carried his shoes and socks to the shoe cabinet by the door before fetching hot water and a towel to wipe down his body.

Thankfully, there were no traces of a woman's lipstick kisses like in TV dramas!

From that woman's words, it was clear that An Yang had nothing going on with her—maybe just an ordinary friend.

This era was pretty open-minded, after all.

Nie Xiaoqian consoled herself like this, telling herself not to overthink it, but she couldn't help feeling a bit down.

A man and a woman going out drinking alone together wasn't exactly proper, especially when that woman brought him home late at night.

Nie Xiaoqian wrung out the towel and was about to take the basin out when she heard An Yang murmur, "Xiaoqian, I'm so thirsty, and so hot!"

She smiled.

Setting the basin down and putting it away, she brought a glass of water to feed An Yang, then slowly undressed and lay down.

The next morning, the sky outside was already bright, but the room remained pitch black, lit only by the faint glow of the charger and plug indicators.

An Yang opened his eyes and found Nie Xiaoqian lying naked in his arms, her skin cool and comfortable, her curvy figure stirring his thoughts.

"Xiaoqian?"

He tested a call.

"Mm, you're awake?"

An Yang tried to recall and asked, "Did I... get drunk yesterday? How did I get back?"

Nie Xiaoqian's voice was soft and calm: "A very pretty woman brought you back."

An Yang's heart tightened, and he quickly said, "I'm not very familiar with her. She just helped me with my sister's job, so I agreed to go out for a meal with her. You're not jealous, are you?"

Nie Xiaoqian shook her head. "No. Drinking harms the body. Remember to drink less in the future."

An Yang froze, then gave a bitter smile.

Nie Xiaoqian was indeed very sharp.

That sentence felt more like an interrogation: if you're not familiar with her, why did you drink so much?

"I was in a bad mood last night, so I drank a bit more. I drank alone—it had nothing to do with her."

"Mm, I understand."

An Yang was about to say something else when he received a call. It was from Song Hanshan.

"Hey, An Yang, are you okay?"

"Why would I be in trouble?"

"It's good that nothing happened... but is there something off about your apartment?"

An Yang was taken aback. "Something off?"

"When I walked you back last night, I saw your place was empty, but the TV was on. Later, the key I'd forgotten to take out of the door somehow ended up on the coffee table. And finally, I saw a white shadow—is there something in your apartment..."

An Yang paused, then looked helplessly at Nie Xiaoqian.

"Thanks for seeing me home yesterday. But this apartment I'm renting has always been normal. The TV was probably just something I forgot to turn off. You must have misremembered about the key, and the shadow was your eyes playing tricks on you. There aren't that many strange things in this world. It's all in your head."

"How could that be! I wouldn't mistake it!"

"Uh... my head's still a bit dizzy. Let's talk another day."

"Alright... remember to drink plenty of water and get some rest. And if you feel like something's wrong with the apartment, make sure to switch places as soon as possible!"

"Okay!"

He put down his phone and looked at Nie Xiaoqian with exasperation.

Nie Xiaoqian lowered her head sheepishly.

"Don't go scaring people like that anymore."

"Mmm~"