She Makes Me Believe in Science - Chapter 20

The old mansion was dimly lit. In the center of the hall sat an enormous bed, large enough for four or five people to roll around on. It was draped in layers of red gauze, which billowed occasionally in the wind to reveal glimpses of a scene that would make anyone blush.

In a corner of the hall stood a tall, burly man. He was nearly two meters tall, with muscles on his arms and shoulders roughly the size of an adult’s head. He stood as still as a stone statue, though his eyes occasionally flickered toward the large bed, betraying an unreadable emotion.

From within the red gauze, a woman’s soft sighs and giggles spoke of her current state of blissful satisfaction. Ji Wuxin silently drifted toward the man standing guard.

“Uncle Xiong.”

The man’s stony face finally twitched. His thick, well-shaped eyebrows knit together tightly. “Call me Junlang.”

Despite his massive, powerful build, the man possessed a remarkably fair and delicate face, one that was arguably even more handsome than the “pretty boy” idols on television. Aside from a jagged, purplish scar stretching from his neck to his chin, his face was ready for a show-business debut.

Ji Wuxin threw up her hands. “Fine, Uncle Junlang.”

Junlang had originally been nameless. After being taken in by Jiao Niang, his towering physique had earned him the title of “Xiong Shen” (Malevolent God) in these parts. Even Jiao Niang called him that. However, he felt “Xiong Shen” sounded far too fierce and unpleasant, so he named himself Junlang (Handsome Gentleman), claiming it was a perfect match for Jiao Niang.

Ji Wuxin had watched them for years, and even she could see that Junlang was in love with Jiao Niang. Unfortunately, it was a one-sided affair, Jiao Niang only liked human men, not male ghosts.

“Does Jiao Niang have business today?”

Just as she asked, the thin gauze of the bed was pulled back from the within. Ji Wuxin watched as a man with dark circles under his eyes crawled out, grinning foolishly.

That look… it was exactly like Song Qian’s.

Ji Wuxin bit her lip, thinking that the bite she’d given Song Qian before leaving had been far too gentle.

The man was led out by summoned little ghosts, presumably to have his memory wiped before being tossed back into the world.

“Wuxin, how have you been lately?”

A soft, feminine voice drifted from the bed, accompanied by the rustle of fabric as the occupant presumably dressed.

“Lately… pretty good.” Ji Wuxin had no intention of revealing the embarrassing fact that she’d spent the last few days recuperating from an injury.

“Is that so?”

A pair of pale, slender calves emerged from the red gauze. Jiao Niang stepped out barefoot, pulling her sheer robe tight to barely cover herself. Her lips were red and her teeth white, looking as though she had just consumed some precious, celestial elixir.

Ji Wuxin’s eyes were fixed on the gauze robe, already plotting a way to borrow it.

Jiao Niang looked up and noticed the little liar staring intently at her clothes. Raising an eyebrow, she walked over and hooked a finger under Ji Wuxin’s chin. “What are you looking at?”

Ji Wuxin gave a sheepish laugh, fingering the fabric of the robe as she tried to negotiate. “Let me borrow this for a bit.”

“Just for two days. Or even one. I’ll give it back after one day.”

Junlang’s brow furrowed even deeper as he listened. Jiao Niang gently patted Ji Wuxin’s hand away, swaying her hips as she walked over to lean against Junlang. “What do you want my clothes for? You can’t handle wearing this.”

Junlang reached out to encircle her slender waist, allowing her to rest her full weight against his chest.

“Oh, right. I almost let you distract me. I went to see you a couple of days ago, and that little girl could actually see me.” At the mention of Song Qian, Jiao Niang’s eyes turned playful. “You and her?”

Ji Wuxin averted her gaze, struggling to find an explanation, but the voice above her suddenly turned cold. “Never mind. Let’s talk about your injury instead.”

Ji Wuxin didn’t dare hide it any longer. She told the truth about the ghost mother, leaving nothing out. As she spoke, she peeled off the deathly pale ghostly mask from her face.

Jiao Niang pulled away slightly from Junlang’s embrace, lifting Ji Wuxin’s chin to inspect her face. Her voice was a mere whisper. “Such a pretty little thing. It seems that girl is taking good care of you.”

Ji Wuxin didn’t catch it. “What?”

Jiao Niang pinched her supple cheek with a hint of envy. Ah, it was good to be young.

“Nothing. You’re lucky you weren’t eaten by a decade-old ghost mother. I think you’ve grown too used to being the boss over those little spirits. You’ve forgotten your place in the real world.”

Ji Wuxin bowed her head, feeling dejected. She could have won, that ghost was just too devious.

Jiao Niang nearly laughed at her wilted state. “Can’t handle a little criticism? Junlang has spoiled you rotten.”

Junlang immediately raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I did no such thing.”

Ji Wuxin glared at him. No need to distance yourself so quickly!

“Alright. Next time you run into something powerful, don’t try to be a hero. If you can’t win, run, understood? Also, for the time being, stay close to that girl. Don’t go anywhere, and don’t even think about running off to play with those little ghosts.” Jiao Niang’s tone was dead serious. She repeated herself to be sure. “Make sure you stay by her side.”

Ji Wuxin had been trying to figure out how to keep Song Qian from other ghosts anyway, so Jiao Niang’s command was music to her ears. She would be inseparable!

“As long as you remember. Now, get going. I’ll have Junlang escort you.”

A ghost this powerful needing an escort home? How embarrassing. Ji Wuxin shook her head decisively, but a sharp glare from Jiao Niang sent her scurrying to Junlang’s side.

“Go on. I’m tired and I’m going to sleep.” With that, Jiao Niang shed her red gauze robe, draping it over Junlang’s arm. She walked into the inner chamber barefoot, wearing only a small silk bodice.

Junlang handed the robe to Ji Wuxin. “Jiao Niang wanted you to have this. Take it.”

Ji Wuxin’s eyes widened. She took it joyfully, holding it up against herself to measure the fit.

Junlang caught her excited hands and warned her, “If you wear this, you are only allowed to wear it in front of that girl.”

Ji Wuxin looked up, confused. “Why?”

Junlang pushed her toward the exit by her shoulders. “Wait until the two of you are alone, then ask her if she’d let you wear it in front of a third person.”

Ji Wuxin snorted internally. Song Qian thinks she can boss me around? I’ll wear it whenever I want!

By the time Junlang returned from escorting Ji Wuxin, Jiao Niang was sitting formally in the hall, a piece of paper with blurred handwriting in her hand.

“This is?”

Jiao Niang inspected her newly painted red nails. They were as sharp as blades, capable of leaving deep gashes with a single stroke.

“Wuxin was raised under our watch, after all. Even if it’s only been a few years, we can’t let just anyone target her.”

“Spread the word in the area. That pale-faced ghost is under my protection. Anyone who wants to die is welcome to come looking for trouble.”

“Understood. I’ll take care of it.”

When Ji Wuxin returned to Unit 404, Song Qian was on the phone.

“Yeah, I’m coming back to see you this summer break. It’s been so long, I missed you.” Song Qian’s voice was unusually soft and sweet, though it wasn’t clear who she was talking to.

Ji Wuxin sat down beside her, staring at her without blinking.

Song Qian glanced at her. What is she up to now?

Song Qian’s lips still ached as she spoke. Seeing Ji Wuxin’s face reignited the anger she’d tried to suppress.

She put a palm on the ghost’s face and pushed her away, turning her back to her.

“Break starts in July, about twenty days left. Oh, how is Uncle Ji next door? I’ll bring him a gift when I come back.”

Ji Wuxin pulled the girl’s hand away, her face dark as she leaned in to demand an explanation, only to hear an elderly voice from the phone.

“He’s doing well. He spends his days tending to flowers and birds. His niece comes by to bring him things, and he always shares a bit with me.”

“Uncle Ji is so kind. I’ll see you during the break, Grandma. Take care of yourself.”

“Alright, alright.”

As soon as she hung up, Song Qian shoved the eavesdropper onto the sofa, mirroring what Ji Wuxin had done to her earlier.

Ji Wuxin was stunned. She stared blankly at her. She suddenly realized something momentous: since when had Song Qian become so bold? She actually dared to shove her!?

“Are your injuries healed?”

Ji Wuxin was preoccupied with her thoughts and only gave a distracted “Huh?” in response.

Song Qian ground her teeth. The ghost was healed, yet she was stuck looking like a drained husk.

Then there was that strange woman who had choked her a few days ago. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

Oh right, what had that woman said?

Song Qian suddenly remembered. She poked Ji Wuxin’s calf with her toe. “Someone came looking for you a couple of days ago. Someone named Jiao Niang?”

“I know, she told me.” As she spoke, Ji Wuxin raised a foot and pressed it against Song Qian’s calf, seemingly in retaliation for being shoved.

Song Qian rolled her eyes. Ren Buqing was right, Spirits are idiots. So childish.

“I’m going to sleep. Don’t come over.”

Of course, Ji Wuxin didn’t listen. The moment Song Qian entered the bedroom, she found Ji Wuxin already lying on the bed, wearing a fake, stiff smile.

Great. Another night of terrible sleep.

Song Qian expected to wake up with the same drained complexion as before, but to her surprise, the dark circles under her eyes had faded, and her skin looked much healthier, despite a lingering touch of fatigue.

“See? Sleeping with me has its benefits. Don’t go sleeping with other ghosts in the future,” Ji Wuxin nagged, her face full of pride as she saw Song Qian’s refreshed look.

Song Qian took a deep breath, resisting the urge to throw her out. Now she was bragging.

In the twenty-odd days leading up to the break, Song Qian prepared her end-of-term thesis materials and various digital assignments. She also didn’t forget to update Ji Wuxin’s profile.

However, the process ran into a few minor snags.

“Ji Wuxin, what are your height and measurements?”

At the time, Ji Wuxin was wearing Song Qian’s T-shirt and shorts, lounging with her legs crossed while watching a drama. Upon hearing the question, she appeared before Song Qian in an instant, grabbing her hand and pressing it against her own chest. “Find out for yourself.”

Song Qian: “…”

She liked girls with good figures, but this was a bit much.

“Go away.”

Or another time:

“Ji Wuxin, are you married?” It was a stupid question, but the form actually required the information.

Ji Wuxin looked back blankly, peeling an orange. “Married? Aren’t I married to you?”

Due to Ji Wuxin’s lack of cooperation, when Lin Qing came to collect the form, only one entry had been updated.

“Likes eating oranges?” Lin Qing looked at the nearly blank form with a pained expression. It had been over half a month, the Chief would kill him if he brought this back.

“Is there… nothing else?” Lin Qing looked at her pleadingly, pointing to the height and measurements column. “This! You’re both girls, it should be easy to find out, right?”

Song Qian racked her brain, her right hand forming a vague cup shape. “Maybe… a C?”

Lin Qing looked down at her hand gesture. “?”

“Oh, right. I’m going home for the break in a few days. I won’t be here, so if you want the form, you’ll have to wait two months.”

If Song Qian left, the Jade Spirit would definitely follow. That wouldn’t work! The Chief was breathing down his neck for these forms. He’d be dead in two months. Thinking of this, Lin Qing shook his head violently.

“Where are you going? Would it be convenient for me to accompany you?”

“I’m going back to my hometown. I don’t mind if you come along.” In fact, she’d be glad to have him. If something happened on the way…

Wait, knock on wood. Don’t jinx it.

Song Qian’s hometown was in the north, quite a distance from Nanjiang. Since there were no direct high-speed trains or flights, Song Qian and Lin Qing had to endure a twenty-hour train ride to Shuimei Town.

Summer clothes were thin and didn’t take much space, so Song Qian only had a small suitcase. Lin Qing, however, was hauling a suitcase twice her size, huffing and puffing as he bent over from the weight.

“Did you pack your entire house?”

Lin Qing waved her off, motioning for her to board the train first.

The train was crowded and noisy. It took a while for Lin Qing to catch his breath after they found their seats. “I packed everything we might need. Books, paper, that sort of thing.”

Song Qian handed him a bottle of water while surveying the people nearby.

Sitting next to them were two girls who looked like tourists, excitedly taking photos with their phones. They didn’t have much luggage. Opposite them sat a woman in a black trench coat, resting quietly with her eyes closed. A long string of beads was wrapped three times around her exposed wrist.

Song Qian couldn’t help but stare. The July weather in Nanjiang was so stifling that most people were sweating just sitting still, yet this woman was bundled up in a coat and long pants without a single drop of sweat on her face.

More people boarded the train. The woman in the coat was by the window, and next to her was a young couple who were already acting all lovey-dovey, blocking Song Qian’s view.

There was an empty seat next to Song Qian and Lin Qing, and opposite them sat an elderly woman with silver hair. There was another empty seat next to her.

“Hurry up! The train is leaving!” the conductor shouted at the door. Someone was running late.

“Coming, coming!”

A young man shouted as he sprinted in. He tripped over his own feet and went face-first onto the floor right at the doorway.

Song Qian winced. That looked like it hurt.

Seemingly embarrassed, the young man scrambled up quickly. His nose and forehead were scraped. He looked around for his seat number and realized it was the one next to the old woman.

He didn’t have much luggage, just a small, flat crossbody bag. He sat down and panted heavily, clearly exhausted from the run.

Song Qian thought his face looked familiar. The young man took a few breaths and looked up to find a girl staring at him. He blushed instantly, fumbling with his clothes and checking his face for dirt.

“…Song Fu?”

Song Fu looked at her in surprise. “You know me?” He didn’t think he knew such a beautiful girl.

Song Qian took a bottle of water and a pack of wet wipes from her bag. “It’s been a few years since I was back, so it’s normal you don’t recognize me. It’s Sensen.”

Song Fu’s eyes widened. He took the water and thanked her with a sheepish smile. “You’ve become so beautiful, I didn’t recognize you.”

Song Qian had spent a few years in her hometown as a child. The village kids hadn’t liked playing with her, except for little Song Fu, who would always bring her treats from home. He was a bit older and knew more characters, so he’d teach her how to read fairy tales. After Song Qian moved away, they had lost touch.

She had actually been hesitant to name him. The Song Fu in her memory was someone who was always smiling and full of sunshine. The Song Fu before her, however, looked miserable. Even when he smiled, there was a deep sense of sorrow and fatigue in his eyes, as if he were buried in darkness.

“Sensen, are you going back to see Grandma?” Song Fu asked, looking at her luggage after taking a few gulps of water.

“I haven’t been back in years. I’m taking advantage of the break.”

Lin Qing suddenly blurted out, “Friend, have things been going poorly for you lately?”

Song Fu didn’t answer, but looked at Song Qian. “Your boyfriend?”

“Bullshit!”

Lin Qing swallowed hard and explained under Ji Wuxin’s icy stare, “Of course not. We are just. Ordinary. Friends.”

Song Fu gave an “Oh,” with a look that said he understood perfectly. Young people usually started out as “ordinary friends.”

Song Qian nudged Ji Wuxin, who had suddenly appeared. Although others couldn’t see her, Song Qian couldn’t handle it if the ghost suddenly started howling.

Distracted by Ji Wuxin, Lin Qing stopped questioning Song Fu and leaned against the window to play dead.

They didn’t notice the dull, clouded eyes of the old woman in the corner move slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

They had boarded the train in the afternoon, and the swaying motion eventually lulled the entire carriage into a deep sleep. As the last sliver of light vanished, Song Qian felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness hit her.

With a dull thud, her phone slid off her lap and under the seat. Song Qian’s eyes were already closed, but she instinctively reached down to pick it up.

Unable to feel her phone, she forced her eyes open. In her daze, she felt someone watching her.

As she looked up, Song Qian snapped fully awake. She felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. Floating beneath the small table was the old woman’s head. Two withered hands were gripping it tightly, as if the old woman had detached her own head and brought it under the table.

Fortunately, the head was facing away from her. Song Qian gripped her phone and tried to sit up slowly.

She kept her eyes on the old woman’s head as she moved. Her movements were incredibly light. Just as she was about to pull away from the table, the silver-haired head suddenly spun around. The old woman’s clouded, milky eyes were staring right at her.