Whispers beneath the bed

We had fought our way through the crowd downstairs to find Mr. He, but after finally reaching the second floor, all I found was a fresh-faced young man.

I looked at the seventeen- or eighteen-year-old in disappointment and asked urgently:

"Hey, little brother, are you the only one in this room? Have you seen an old man named He?"

The young man glanced at me, his expression barely changing, and said flatly:

"Aren't you afraid calling me little brother will shorten your life?"

With things so urgent, I had no time to trade quips with him. I asked again:

"Have you seen him or not?"

The kid stood up, straightened his sleeves, and said quietly:

"I see him every day. I'm the Old Man He you're talking about!"

"You?"

That truly startled me. I stared at him doubtfully, looking him up and down.

Countless questions flooded my mind.

Old Wu and Old Liu were both in their fifties or sixties. Could the legendary Mr. He they spoke of so respectfully really be this wet-behind-the-ears young man?

I looked at him in disbelief and asked quietly:

"Little brother, Mr. He has to be at least in his sixties. How could you be him? Do you actually know where he is?"

The young man glanced at me and gave a cold laugh.

"Oh, well past sixty. I'm seventy-three this year!"

I was completely lost.

Why did he keep insisting he was Mr. He? Still, although the young man was small, he certainly spoke like an old hand.

Could he really be the master everyone called Mr. He?

That made sense, too. In this world where humans and ghosts ran wild, with all the extraordinary abilities people said Mr. He possessed, who knew what he might look like?

Having come this far, I might as well take a gamble.

"Mr. He, is it really you? I've come to ask for your help!"

The young man sighed.

"How has that little business with your lousy Route 13 bus scared you drivers this badly?"

His words left me stunned.

"Lousy Route 13 bus? Little business?"

This was our first meeting. How did he know I had come about Route 13?

He knew without being told. He really was Mr. He!

Beside myself with excitement, I hurried over and said urgently:

"Mr. He, how can I escape the Route 13 Last Bus? My life is at stake. Please, you have to tell me!"

Mr. He was just about to speak when I suddenly heard shouting and cursing erupt in the second-floor hallway.

Damn it, they had fought their way upstairs!

Mr. He remained unruffled. He waved a hand and said:

"They're up here. Get me out first if you can, then we'll talk!"

The moment he finished, Scorpion kicked the door open with a bang.

"You little bastard, get the fuck away from Mr. He!"

Scorpion had barely finished when Bun Head came up behind him and sent him flying with a kick.

I quickly grabbed Mr. He and ran out of the room.

Once we were outside the building, someone shouted:

"The police are here!"

Hearing that, Scorpion hastily ordered his men to stop.

"Fuck, the police are here! Stop fighting! Get the girls out of the building first!"

We seized the chance to hurry out of the compound, pile into our cars, and flee.

In the car, Bun Head, both eyes badly swollen, asked me anxiously:

"Brother, where's Mr. He? You didn't find him?"

I laughed and glanced beside me.

"We got him out, didn't we? This is Mr. He!"

Bun Head looked Mr. He up and down, then swore angrily:

"Are you shitting me? All our brothers got hurt, and you dragged out some middle schooler and called him Mr. He? Who are you trying to fool?"

Throughout the drive, no matter how I explained it, Bun Head simply refused to believe this seventeen- or eighteen-year-old-looking young man was Mr. He.

Mr. He didn't seem to care, either. He just sat to one side with a cold smile, saying nothing.

After dropping us off at the company, Bun Head went to make arrangements for the men who had fought, without even looking back, as angry as though he had suffered a terrible humiliation.

I invited Mr. He upstairs, but he flatly refused, saying his flowers hadn't been watered for a month and he was afraid they would wither. I was so anxious I nearly cried.

After all that effort and all those people I'd sought help from, I had finally found Mr. He. I had a bellyful of questions for him, yet he was taking his sweet time going home to water flowers!

He wouldn't let me follow him, either. Unable to change his mind, I could only arrange to visit his home the next morning to talk.

As Mr. He turned to leave, I suddenly remembered Scorpion and asked nervously:

"What if Scorpion comes to your home looking for you again?"

Without looking back, Mr. He said:

"He'll be busy arranging a funeral!"

Not understanding what he meant, I watched him walk away, hope finally rising in my heart!

Little Six had been hurt badly in the fight, too. His whole head was swollen like a pig's.

Around six or seven that evening, while I was applying medicine to Little Six's wounds in our dorm room, Bun Head called with some shocking news.

"Scorpion's dad died of illness!"

I suddenly remembered what Mr. He had said before leaving. My admiration for him knew no bounds. I was definitely saved!

My excitement left me sleepless. I went to bed early that night, my mind filled with visions of a happy future with Bai Fan.

Even when Little Six returned from his bus run at one in the morning, I was still staring at the ceiling and grinning foolishly.

Little Six teased me a little, then lay down and went to sleep.

I wished daylight would come sooner. I would go see Mr. He first thing in the morning. I had to keep an eye on him!

I had just closed my eyes to sleep when I thought I heard someone speaking quietly in the room.

I rolled over and said to Little Six:

"Little Six, why aren't you sleeping? What are you muttering about?"

No sooner had I spoken than I heard Little Six snoring in the opposite bed.

I yawned and closed my eyes again.

That soft murmuring started again!

Puzzled, I glanced toward Little Six. He was snoring thunderously. The sound wasn't coming from him!

Was someone at the door?

I threw on some clothes and looked both ways outside our door. In the dead of night, the hallway was utterly silent. No one was there.

I suddenly remembered Old Liu saying Liu Yunbo had cursed me and my yang energy was weakened!

I couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath.

Tomorrow! As soon as daylight comes, I'll see Mr. He. Yellow paper figures, Route 13-none of it will be a problem anymore.

I returned to bed and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to fall asleep quickly, but the whispers came again.

The voice was soft and weak, yet unceasing, like a sorrowful woman murmuring her grievances to herself.

This time I didn't move. Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to hear exactly where the voice came from and what it was saying.

After listening for over a minute, I suddenly panicked. Too frightened to bother with shoes, I sprang off the bed with a thump.

The whispers were coming from beneath my bed!

I did my best to control myself, took a deep breath, and stood to one side, staring at the bed and listening carefully.

The voice had vanished. In the tiny dorm room of three to five square meters, there was no sound except Little Six's rising and falling snores!

Was I hearing things?

I rubbed my ears hard and waited another few minutes. Only after making sure there was no sound did I lie down with peace of mind.

Daylight! As soon as daylight comes, all this worry and fear will vanish.

After I see Mr. He tomorrow, I'll quit and get as far away as I can.

As I was thinking this, the woman's sorrowful voice suddenly came from beneath the bed again.

The wind had picked up outside, too. Its sound mingled with the indistinct whispers inside, making my scalp prickle!

Once again, I rolled out of bed. The instant my bare feet touched the floor, goosebumps covered my whole body!

Was someone under the bed?

Once that thought formed in my mind, my fear grew without limit!

Should I lift the bed boards and look?

Breathing hard, I stared at the wooden bed, a little over a meter wide. There was indeed a storage compartment underneath, but I had never put anything in it. It was empty!

Sweat began streaming uncontrollably down my head.

Once daylight comes, I can ask Mr. He to help me leave this place! There's no need to take this risk.

I mustn't lift the boards. Whatever is under the bed, I have to hold out until daylight!

Having made up my mind, I pulled my quilt around me and sat down beside Little Six's bed.

With Little Six's snores for company, I sat there all night!

When daylight came and Little Six finally woke up, the sight of me sitting beside his bed wrapped in a quilt startled him.

"Buddy, what are you doing?"

With dark circles under both eyes, I yawned, gave him a pat, and said:

"Get up and let me lie down for a bit. I haven't slept all night!"

Little Six got dressed and out of bed without understanding what was going on. I quickly crawled under his quilt, planning to catch a little sleep before going to see Mr. He.

As usual, Little Six picked up the broom after getting up and began cleaning the room.

I was groggily drifting off when I suddenly heard Little Six call out in surprise:

"Brother, how did this get under your bed?"

I forced my tired eyes open and looked:

Little Six had swept a clump of long woman's hair out from under my bed!