Zheng Motian waited quietly, full of anticipation.
The group chat was very quiet. No one had sent a message in a long time.
Zheng Motian grew impatient. After thinking for a while, he sent another message: "Where is everyone? Are you all dead?"
Once again, there was a long silence.
Zheng Motian swore and impatiently asked, "Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?"
But no one in the group responded.
Zheng Motian switched to his contacts and sent people private messages, but those too sank without a trace.
This time, he cursed aloud, tossed his phone aside, and fumed by himself.
After a while, he rallied and snatched up his phone again. He opened his contacts and messaged other people.
Still, no one responded.
Growing impatient, Zheng Motian started making calls.
I watched as he called one person after another, starting with his insurance company and people who had only nicknames or screen names, then moving on to those whose full names he knew, and finally to people he knew by their family titles. He called home, but no one answered there either.
Zheng Motian gave up, tossed his phone aside, and bit his nails as he racked his brains.
He figured he couldn't reach anyone by phone. Recalling what the female ghost had said, he rummaged through his memories, thinking of all the people he had ever met. He desperately tried to remember even complete strangers whose names he didn't know.
I watched Zheng Motian, my gaze turning cold.
He could seek out a scapegoat to die in his place without the slightest hesitation. He had even gone so far as to consider his own parents and family. That said everything about his character.
At that moment, I hoped Zheng Motian would be trapped