After we finished talking about Nantian, I asked Chen Xiaoqiu to help me look for reports about the Ghost King.
"What matters is photos of the ghosts. They can be from before or after they died," I emphasized.
"I understand. Aren't you worried that reality might change?" Chen Xiaoqiu asked.
"It's better than sitting around waiting to die," I replied.
Reality had already changed, and somehow that change gave me confidence.
I had been afraid that the changes I made would make reality worse, and that my family and friends might disappear because of them. Now I wasn't afraid anymore.
I was prepared for things to get worse. They couldn't get much worse than this.
Chen Xiaoqiu seemed relieved. When she agreed, her voice sounded lighter than before.
A weight lifted from my heart, too. But whenever I thought about Nantian, I couldn't feel happy.
As usual, I slept poorly that night.
The alarm woke me in the morning, and I got up in a daze. My younger sister was already awake.
With dark circles under her eyes, she sat on the sofa hugging a cushion and stared blankly at the TV.
I sighed and went over to rub her head.
The TV was showing the news, covering the chaos Gu Yan had caused.
The victims' families wept bitterly on camera. Most of the dead were young, leaving their white-haired parents to mourn their children. Their grief was especially intense.
One parent even swore at the camera. The station had censored what he said, but judging by how worked up he was, he must have said every awful thing he could think of.
No one thought he was being rude. Just looking at him, you could feel his despair.
I felt sorry for him, and helpless, too.
I couldn't say