Chapter Thirteen: Not Human

Chen Jin felt utterly baffled. He had brought Sheng Yao to watch the surveillance footage, hoping it would dispel his unrealistic notions and make him finally leave Longevity Cemetery alone. Yet Sheng Yao seemed to be doing exactly the opposite, intent on monitoring that girl even more closely.

Chen Jin was a bit displeased, but before he could scold Sheng Yao, his eyes fell on Xiao Wu, who was trembling.

Xiao Wu’s body was shaking—not the restless jiggling of legs, nor the result of a cold night in the surveillance room, which had the air conditioning running. Not only was his body trembling, but his teeth were chattering, producing an odd “ga-ga” sound.

A sudden chill crept over Chen Jin.

Sheng Yao slipped past him and started operating the surveillance system himself.

“Hey, you—” Chen Jin instinctively called out, but his attention was drawn to Sheng Yao’s calm, serious face. Beside it was Xiao Wu’s sweat-soaked, pale profile.

The contrast in expression between the two men, already separated a little by age, was striking.

Chen Jin wanted to ask Xiao Wu what he was afraid of, but then remembered the question Xiao Wu had asked him when they’d patrolled the cemetery perimeter together.

The surveillance room’s air conditioner was an old one salvaged from the office building; it wasn’t strong enough—too weak for summer, too feeble for winter. Now the wind was whirring, dispelling the chill of an early spring night but never warming anyone. In fact, Chen Jin was feeling colder and colder.

He never believed in such things. He’d worked at Longevity Cemetery for years, handling countless corpses and urns, listening to the wailing of bereaved families, yet never seeing a ghost. He’d rather believe there were lunatics like the woman in cold jokes than believe in…

“Ah!” Xiao Wu suddenly cried out.

That cry, in the confines of the surveillance room, reminded Chen Jin of the night when the whole security team had gathered here to watch the footage.

After that, whenever Xiao Jin found clues, he only called Chen Jin and Old Xu to view them, leaving out everyone else. Xiao Wu naturally hadn’t seen them.

Chen Jin turned to the surveillance monitors. There were many screens; the largest in the center immediately caught his eye.

It showed rows of gravestones in the traditional section. Near the top of the frame, a figure was standing in the aisle.

The night was misty, the figure like a wisp of black fog.

The video continued, moonlight spilled in, revealing the figure to be a woman.

The moonlight only peeked through the clouds for a moment before being obscured again. The strange black misty figure returned, flickered, and darted out of the camera’s range.

Chen Jin’s chest tightened. He glanced at the timestamp in the upper right corner: “03:18.”

Three in the morning!

His face darkened.

He glared at Sheng Yao, furious and about to curse: “You two youngsters are really—”

He didn’t finish. A scream rang beside him.

“Ghost!” Xiao Wu jumped up, bumping into his chair, retreating in terror.

Chen Jin’s angry expression twisted oddly.

A look of relaxation and tension simultaneously faded into calm on Sheng Yao’s face. He turned to Xiao Wu.

Xiao Wu, pressed against the wall, pointed tremblingly at Sheng Yao, then at the screen.

This wasn’t Xiao Jin’s dramatic habit—he was truly terrified. Anyone seeing him now would suspect he’d wet himself on the spot.

“That’s a ghost! That woman is a ghost! It’s you! You brought her in!” Xiao Wu shouted hoarsely. “You brought her in! Leave now! Don’t ever come back!”

Chen Jin was at a loss. “Xiao Wu, wait. Don’t get so worked up.”

“Brother Chen! That woman is a ghost! I saw her with my own eyes! Remember what I told you? On Qingming, this guy acted like a lunatic, talking to himself in front of the grave! A lot of people saw it!” Xiao Wu, clutching at Chen Jin like a lifeline, his bloodshot eyes pleading, “After that, he came every day, every day! At his side… at his side, bit by bit… that woman!”

Xiao Wu’s voice was raw.

An unspeakable terror rose in Chen Jin’s heart.

Xiao Wu hugged his head, crouched down, curling into himself, muttering with a sob: “I saw her… that woman bit by bit, bit by bit… The first day, only a hand, just a hand… He sat there talking to the air, and beside him floated a hand. That hand was gray, not human at all…”

Sheng Yao, unexpectedly, felt calm. He thought of the gray palm print he had seen.

Decaying, uneven skin, its edge a dense network of young lines, growing outward, as if a pen, starting from that odd palm print, began to sketch, painting a vibrant young girl.

The girl smiled.

In the background, her clear voice sounded. She told him her name was Bai Xiao—“Bai” as in “daylight”, “Xiao” as in “Hundred Scholars”, no “Sheng”, but her friends all called her “Sheng Sheng”.

So adorable.

She told him she played the violin. They’d even met once before—he was on the field, playing soccer, she was in the stands playing violin, comically acting as the cheerleader—oh… no… the cheerleaders were her juniors…

They’d met at the wrong time…

A sadness welled up in Sheng Yao’s heart.

Chen Jin swallowed, wanting to break Xiao Wu’s rambling, but found himself unable to utter a sound.

---

The air conditioner was still blowing, and outside the surveillance room, the night wind rustled the leaves.

Xiao Wu slowly shifted from crouching to sitting limp on the floor. “Every day, every day… that woman… that woman appeared… At first, very faint, like a shadow, like half-transparent, then bit by bit, bit by bit…” He kept repeating those three words.

The painting in Sheng Yao’s mind shifted from being drawn from inside out to layer upon layer of thick strokes.

Chen Jin imagined a different scene.

He seemed to hear the toilet flushing again and again, and old films he’d seen long ago flashed through his mind. In those period colors, a beautiful woman peeled off her skin, and a terrifying monster wore it like clothing.

“That woman just appeared like that…” Xiao Wu choked, “She’s definitely not human! Not human! She’s a ghost, a ghost! She’s here in the cemetery… I thought she left. I thought she’d follow you away!” He suddenly looked up, bloodshot eyes fixed on Sheng Yao, almost accusatory, as if questioning why Sheng Yao came to their cemetery, why he wouldn’t leave.

Sheng Yao showed no fear. He looked at Xiao Wu and suddenly smiled.

The laugh made both Xiao Wu and Chen Jin shudder.

Sheng Yao laughed, then asked, “Are you sure you didn’t see it wrong?”

Xiao Wu’s eyes widened, as if his eyeballs might fall out.

“How could she be a ghost? I met her on Qingming. There were lots of people visiting graves that day. I came early by shuttle bus. This cemetery allows burning paper, smoke everywhere, can’t see people clearly from afar. Lots of crying. You probably know this better than me. I wasn’t feeling well that day. I met her, she asked after me a couple times.” Sheng Yao spoke slowly. “I… fell for her at first sight.”

“You’re lying! Lots of people saw you talking to yourself! You stretched out your hand, like this…” Xiao Wu, supporting himself against the wall, mimed pulling someone’s hand, “You were pulling… Everyone saw! There was no one there! People thought you were crazy!”

“I wanted to hold her hand, but couldn’t. Then I just shouted a few words at her from afar,” Sheng Yao calmly replied. “She didn’t answer, didn’t give her name or contact info. I could only say I’d wait for her here tomorrow.”

Xiao Wu was speechless.

“At that time, the thirteenth row was thick with burning paper, you couldn’t see far. You stood outside the aisle, didn’t you?” Sheng Yao asked.

Xiao Wu couldn’t speak, but clearly the answer was “yes.”

“That aisle is very narrow, only one person can stand, two need to squeeze sideways. I was standing in the aisle, probably blocking your view,” Sheng Yao smiled, analyzing rationally.

He was a young man, six feet tall, broad shoulders—not a slender girl with a tiny waist. Such a tall, upright young man standing between gravestones, with smoke billowing in, it would be hard to see if someone was in front of him.

“And that day, there were other people in the thirteenth row, lots in the rows in front and behind. The gravestones are tall; if someone’s short, most of their body could be blocked,” Sheng Yao continued.

Xiao Wu kept shaking his head.

He was new to Longevity Cemetery, never worked in one before. On his first day, he’d been startled by a head “growing” out from between gravestones—it was Xiao Jin’s, and his cry had startled Xiao Jin. That night at dinner, Xiao Jin described it vividly, everyone laughed, patting him on the back, encouraging him to be braver…

But this was nothing like the female ghost he’d seen!

On Qingming, the traditional section was packed, heads everywhere, smoke everywhere. But he clearly remembered Sheng Yao’s oddness, and remembered, day by day, that woman slowly becoming whole.

She was definitely a ghost!

Xiao Wu grew anxious, looking to Chen Jin, only to find Chen Jin deep in thought.

Sheng Yao’s smile didn’t fade. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to interfere with your work. Sometimes… emotions are hard to control.” As he spoke the last four words, his smile lingered, but a helpless sadness filled his eyes.

Sheng Yao lowered his head, clenching his fist.

If only he hadn’t turned his head, hadn’t seen Bai Xiao’s gravestone, hadn’t reached out for her…

If only he could now stay quietly at home, watching TV, eating snacks, waiting for his parents to return…

Sheng Yao closed his eyes.

He looked at Xiao Wu again, saw Xiao Wu’s anxious face, and turned to Chen Jin: “She’s still in the cemetery. She might… have nowhere else to go. I want to look for her. Please don’t call the police, okay? If you do, things may get messy. I believe she means no harm. If there’s any loss to the cemetery, I’ll compensate. If you need to explain to bereaved families, I’ll go with you.”

Chen Jin was surprised.

Sheng Yao seemed open and decisive, handling things rationally, yet his resolve was unwavering.

Chen Jin hesitated.

This broke all regulations.

And a young girl, alone at night, living in their cemetery—it was too strange.

“I have her family’s contact info. I’ll let them know,” Chen Jin said. “If you want to help look, you should talk to her family, too.”

“She has no family left,” Sheng Yao replied.

“She does. Her parents are still listed on the gravestone. The name ‘Sheng Yao’ is still there,” Chen Jin glanced at him.

Sheng Yao smiled bitterly, unable to reveal the lie he’d just told, nor Bai Xiao’s true identity.

Before Chen Jin could say more, a commotion outside interrupted them.

Xiao Jin, full of energy, had rushed from the staff dormitory to Longevity Cemetery, and after Old Xu’s call, hurried back again, still in his T-shirt and shorts.

He was sweating but didn’t feel cold.

Entering the surveillance room, seeing Sheng Yao, Xiao Jin glared fiercely, a style completely different from Xiao Wu’s earlier stare.

“Hey! You again!” Xiao Jin braced himself.

“I already explained to Brother Chen. Later, I’ll need your help finding that girl from earlier,” Sheng Yao said with good temper.

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Xiao Jin’s anger fizzled. “What’s going on? The girl really didn’t go home?” He grew anxious. “Didn’t Brother Chen only see you?”

“She’s probably hiding in the cemetery, maybe for days now,” Sheng Yao replied.

Xiao Jin hurried to the surveillance console. “I clearly saw her run out the west gate!”

“She must have returned later,” Sheng Yao said mildly.

Xiao Jin hastily pulled up the west gate footage.

Chen Jin hadn’t gotten a chance to speak at all. He glanced at the two, then at the dispirited Xiao Wu. He walked over, patted Xiao Wu’s shoulder, and said, “Xiao Wu, pull yourself together. I told you, there are no ghosts here. You’re scaring yourself.”

Xiao Wu called “Brother Chen,” wanting to say something, but Xiao Jin interrupted.

Xiao Jin fast-forwarded the west gate video. “Nothing! Not a single person.”

“She slipped in from somewhere else. Check the thirteenth row,” Sheng Yao suggested.

The thirteenth row footage was pulled up.

Around midnight, a shadow appeared at the corner of the screen. Clouds covered the moon; the shadow flickered and vanished.

Sheng Yao squinted.

Xiao Jin was less sharp-eyed than Sheng Yao, searching carefully on the low-res screen, fast-forwarding, slow-playing, but found nothing.

He grumbled, checked other footage.

“Just look at the late-night ones,” Sheng Yao reminded.

“No need for you to say!” Xiao Jin retorted.

They viewed several segments. Old Xu and two other colleagues arrived.

Chen Jin explained, and all three looked grim. Old Xu remembered the young people he’d caught before, and his gaze at Sheng Yao lost any sympathy for a lovesick youth.

Suddenly, Xiao Jin exclaimed, hitting pause: “There’s someone!”

In the cemetery’s family rest area, a figure passed beneath a tree. Shadows danced, the figure moved as if waltzing, and in a blink, vanished at the screen’s edge.

Sheng Yao’s heart softened.

That movement was a violinist’s.

Alas, she held no violin. She could only reminisce with the wind and shadows.

Sheng Yao’s gaze deepened.

“We must find her,” Sheng Yao said.

“Should we call the police?” Xiao Jin asked Chen Jin.

Chen Jin hesitated, consulting with Old Xu.

Old Xu was decisive. “Call that Sheng Yao’s family. Ask if that girl is theirs.” He looked at Sheng Yao, “Young man, tell the truth—which grave is your family’s?”

Sheng Yao was speechless.

He’d realized Chen Jin and the others misunderstood his identity and his grandparents’ grave. Now, it was even harder to clarify, or Bai Xiao’s matter would become impossible to explain. If Longevity Cemetery learned they truly had a ghost, who knew what they’d do.

“Let’s find her first. That’s most important,” Sheng Yao said firmly.

Chen Jin and Old Xu exchanged glances. Chen Jin nodded vigorously. “Right, we must find her first.”

Even if they needed to contact her family, Sheng Yao, they had to find her first to notify them.

Xiao Wu shrieked hysterically: “I’m not going! I’d rather die than go! If you want to find that ghost, do it yourselves! I won’t go! You’re all fooled! Go die yourselves!”

He screamed, shoved past everyone, and ran out toward the dormitory.

Xiao Jin stomped in frustration. “That guy…”

“Let him be,” Chen Jin stopped Xiao Jin, “He’s just timid. Let’s go, we’ll search the cemetery ourselves.”

“Xiao Jin, you stay here and watch the surveillance,” Old Xu said. “Call us if anything happens.”

Xiao Jin nodded.

While they spoke, Sheng Yao had already stepped out. He glanced in the direction Xiao Wu had fled, feeling guilty.

“Let’s go. You’re with me. If you see anything, don’t rush in,” Chen Jin said, handing Sheng Yao a flashlight.

Sheng Yao thanked him, took the flashlight. “I won’t. I’ve made up my mind…” He raised his eyes, gazing at the cemetery.

Clouds drifted overhead, moonlight spilled down, and rows of gravestones unfurled before Sheng Yao like a painted scroll.