At Eastwind Gas Company, in the lobby, Quentin Wang lay quietly on the carpet, his face tinged with blue.
"Ethan, hurry up! Is there any way?"
Leon Wang stood to the side, sweat streaming down his face. I had already called Rachel Lan, but she still hadn’t arrived.
"Rachel still hasn’t come..."
Leon Wang edged toward the door, peering out anxiously. Right now, only Rachel Lan could help—at least she could tell us if Quentin Wang was really dead.
Around 4 o’clock, Rachel Lan finally drove into the company courtyard.
"Rachel, please, save my son, save Quentin!"
Rachel Lan walked in silently, shot me a glare, and shook her head.
"It’s too late."
"No, Rachel, tell me—whatever you want, as long as you save my son, I’m begging you!"
Leon Wang knelt before Rachel Lan, sobbing and pleading.
"Or maybe..."
"Ethan Zhang, shut up."
I was about to urge Rachel Lan to save Quentin Wang—after all, it was a life at stake—but she snapped at me.
Rachel Lan then eyed Leon Wang suspiciously.
"Earlier, I explained everything to you, but you didn’t believe me. Why do you believe now?"
Leon Wang stammered.
"No... I, Rachel... it’s..."
"I heard you called Quentin Wang several times before the accident, and right before it happened, you finally got through. Who told you?"
"No, Rachel, no one told me anything."
Rachel Lan shook off Leon Wang’s arm.
"This is the karma you brought on yourself. This is your son’s fate. Let’s go, Ethan Zhang."
Then Rachel Lan walked over, grabbed my arm, and tried to pull me outside.
Leon Wang begged desperately, but Rachel Lan didn’t even look back. Suddenly, I remembered how, when I was a child, my parents prayed to gods and spent everything just to save me. My heart softened.
"Wait."
I stopped where I was.
"I don’t know what karma he’s brought on himself, but for the sake of a father trying to save his son..."
And then I remembered, even though Quentin Wang dragged me to his birthday party tonight, when I was nearly possessed and almost fell, it was Quentin who grabbed me at the critical moment.
Rachel Lan stopped, sighed, and without paying attention to Leon Wang’s pleas, pulled me to the corner of the lobby.
"Sandra Yu. That’s the woman’s name."
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"A long time ago, when Sandra Yu first latched onto Quentin Wang, I looked into it a bit. You’d better stay out of this. That old man isn’t a good person. Back then, before my father died, he asked him to look after me, and he did. I’ve worked hard all these years, and now no one owes anyone anything."
Suddenly, Rachel Lan glared at Quentin Wang, her face full of anger.
"Didn’t he help you...?"
"Enough, Ethan Zhang. Will you listen to me just once?"
For a moment, I hesitated. Rachel Lan didn’t look like she was lying, but seeing the father and son separated by death, I couldn’t help but feel pity.
"Go ahead. You must know if there’s any way to..."
Rachel Lan gazed at me, lost in thought.
"Quentin Wang’s soul is probably being held by Sandra Yu. If we can find it within a day, there’s still hope."
Then Rachel Lan called Vivian Ouyang, telling her to hurry to the hotel.
"You go ahead. I’ll try to make sure his Deathbane Aura doesn’t leak out too much."
Without thinking much, I sped off in Rachel Lan’s car. When I arrived at the hotel, it was already 4:20. I lingered at the entrance, waiting for Vivian Ouyang to arrive.
At 4:40, Vivian Ouyang arrived, bleary-eyed, riding an electric scooter.
"Hey, Ethan, didn’t Rachel tell you to stay out of this?"
I shook my head.
"Do you sense anything?"
Vivian Ouyang stretched and sniffed the air.
"It’s almost dawn. There’s nothing left to sense."
Vivian Ouyang showed her police badge and said she was here to investigate. We went to the lobby, planning to rest for a bit.
I was exhausted but didn’t want to sleep. Eventually, I couldn’t hold out and drifted off.
When I woke up, daylight was streaming in. It was already 10 o’clock. Vivian Ouyang was eating, and she’d bought me something too. I started eating.
"Rachel’s phone seems to be dead. I can’t get through."
"When you’re done eating, can you look around a bit?"
Vivian Ouyang and I wandered floor by floor. By 2 p.m., we’d covered all thirteen floors—there wasn’t a trace.
"There’s nothing we can do. We’ll have to wait until nightfall; ghosts rarely appear during the day."
We returned to the first floor. Vivian Ouyang kept calling Rachel Lan, but couldn’t get through.
"That’s weird. Rachel usually carries a charger."
"Maybe things over there got complicated."
We waited the whole day. By 6 p.m., after dinner, we returned to the hotel. As soon as we entered, Vivian Ouyang started shivering.
"Do you sense anything?"
Vivian Ouyang nodded.
"Maybe it’s a little higher up. That nasty feeling."
We took the elevator and pressed the buttons floor by floor. When we reached the thirteenth floor, Vivian Ouyang was shaking even harder.
"It’s this floor, Ethan. Be careful."
I nodded and rushed out. Even though being haunted by a ghost would put me at a disadvantage, Vivian Ouyang had told me earlier that if I was possessed, I must stay calm and focus my mind. The ghost might attack, but I wasn’t afraid of Sandra Yu, the vengeful ghost. If she dared attack, I’d strike back—I wouldn’t let her lead me by the nose again.
"Give me back Quentin Wang’s soul!"
I shouted. The empty corridor was lit, but since the incident, the hotel had shut down—no one lived on the thirteenth floor.
I started walking. The doors in the corridor were tightly closed. Suddenly, I heard a noise, turned my head, and quickly dove to the ground.
A mop shot straight toward me; I dodged, and it clattered to the floor.
With a creak, the door in front of me opened. Someone seemed to walk in—I glimpsed a shadow out of the corner of my eye.
I stood up, clenched my fists, and walked in. The room was dimly lit, but I could barely make things out. This time, I was careful—I tested the floor first; it was solid. Then I entered the room.
A gust of strong wind blew the curtains up. I straightened, fists clenched.
"I know you’re here. Come out!"
With a bang, the door behind me slammed shut. I kept watching.
"Hmph..."
A cold snort. I turned around—it was Sandra Yu, the vengeful ghost. Her eyes burned with resentment as she stared at me.
"Why? I have no grudge against you. Why are you ruining my plans?"
"Can’t we sit down and talk? Just give Quentin Wang’s soul back first."
Suddenly, I saw Sandra Yu’s eyes fill with suspicion as she looked at me.
"Hmph, you’re the one causing trouble. I never took Quentin Wang’s soul."
I stared, eyes wide.
"Last night, I saw you take Quentin Wang away."
"Don’t believe me? See for yourself." Sandra Yu floated right up to me, staring.
"If I knew where he was, I wouldn’t be asking you."
Beep beep beep—my phone rang. I jumped, answering quickly. It was Vivian Ouyang.
"Ethan, hurry and find Rachel. My eyelid’s twitching, and I feel uneasy."
"That can’t be right," I muttered.
"Every time I can’t reach Rachel, just thinking of her makes my eyelid twitch and my heart race. Something always happens. That night, we’d just gotten her call, and sent those three over right away."
It’s true. That night, at the haunted house, the Burial Ghost Squad showed up in no time.
"Go back and check. My instincts are always right. I’m heading over now."
I stared blankly at Sandra Yu, the vengeful ghost.
"I didn’t take Quentin Wang’s soul. Yes, last night I wanted to hurt him, but you interfered. When I went to find Quentin again, he was already gone."
The more I listened, the more confused I became.
Clap clap clap—the sound echoed.
"Brother, such a clumsy scheme—can’t you see through it?" Suddenly, John Chou’s voice rang out behind me.
I turned around. He was smiling, clapping, and stepped out from the wall.
I started to recall: last night, Quentin Wang kept telling me to call Rachel Lan, and when Quentin’s body was found, his father Leon Wang showed up. Everything happened so conveniently.
And as soon as we arrived at the hotel, Rachel Lan’s phone couldn’t be reached.
Thinking back to that early morning, Rachel Lan questioned Leon Wang about how he knew. Leon looked flustered and stammered.
"Someone’s pulling strings behind the scenes. Brother, you’d better rush back to the company."
I dashed out, took the elevator to the first floor, jumped in the car, and sped off.
On the way, I kept recalling: last night, the hand that dragged Quentin Wang into the wall didn’t seem like a woman’s. Besides, Sandra Yu, the vengeful ghost, couldn’t have done it. She’s just a fierce ghost—maybe not even that.
I’d heard John Chou say that for a ghost to make someone vanish into thin air, it takes a Greenshade Ghost. Only a Greenshade Ghost can create a ghost domain and drag someone inside.
The car stopped at the gas company entrance. The main gate was tightly shut. I walked over—inside, it was pitch black. The guardhouse, usually lit, was now completely dark.
I looked around. The gate wasn’t fully closed—a crack showed. I squeezed through.
The yard was empty except for the cold moonlight.
"Kid, you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting for you!"
Suddenly, a voice echoed from the lobby. With a boom, a blaze flared up—I saw the old Taoist who controlled zombies, standing behind an altar, grinning maliciously.