07
Tống Lưu Nhi lay on the ground for a long time before managing to sit up. The blood had dried, mixing with dirt and dust clinging to his swollen face until his features were no longer recognizable.
“Call an ambulance. Where’s your phone? You need to get to the hospital right away!”
But he didn’t go to the hospital. Clutching his stomach, he slowly crawled up to the third floor.
He opened the door with trembling hands. It was a small room, barely a hundred square feet, so sparsely furnished there wasn’t even a bed—just a thin mattress against the wall to sleep on.
“Tiểu Quái, I’m home…”
As he spoke, the corner of his mouth pulled tight. The wound split open, making him suck in a sharp breath, but his voice was gentle, and his expression was no longer as fierce as before.
He turned on the light. A calico cat was lying on the little table beside the window.
He was painfully thin, yet somehow he had a cat as round and plump as a ball of fluff.
“Why are you sleeping so soundly today…”
Tống Lưu Nhi frowned slightly and hurried over, reaching out to touch the cat. But the moment he did, he froze.
At the sight, I had a sudden, bad feeling. “Is that your cat? What’s wrong with it?”
He stared at the cat in shock, trembling as he gently gathered it into his arms.
But the cat didn’t move at all—its body had gone stiff.
Tống Lưu Nhi’s hand trembled, and he bit his lower lip until it bled. He looked around in panic, his gaze finally settling on the half-eaten piece of dried fish on the table.
A few more pieces of dried fish were caught on the windowsill.
Clearly, someone had poisoned the cat by tossing the fish through the gap in the window—deliberately targeting it.
To charge his electric scooter, Tống Lưu Nhi had cracked the window open so he could run the cord outside. The gap was too narrow for the cat to squeeze through. He’d even carefully secured the window with wire, afraid the cat might push it open.
Given his limited options, he’d done everything he could. But he still hadn’t expected someone to toss poisoned fish through that gap.
Tống Lưu Nhi clutched the calico cat and sobbed.
“Tiểu Quái, you’re terrible at picking people. You chose me to be your owner…”
“You probably had a better life when you were a stray than you did with me. I did this to you…”
“I’m sorry… I’m awful. I can’t even take care of myself, and I couldn’t protect you…”
…
I had never seen Tống Lưu Nhi like this before. It was as if the cat’s death had taken away the last of his faith, the last thing he had to hold on to. Beyond the pain lay a cold, numbing despair.
He gently laid the cat on the mattress, then curled up in the corner. The dim yellow light and a slanting ray from outside the window fell on him, but brought not a trace of warmth.
I didn’t know when I’d started crying so hard I couldn’t make a sound.
I had never known his life was like this. I had never even thought to find out.
I had always thought that sending Tống Lượng money every month meant I had fulfilled my responsibilities as an “unconventional mother.”
I thought that even without his parents’ love, at least he had enough to eat, warm clothes, and a roof over his head.
But the truth was, his aunt and uncle cursed him and drove him out like a stray dog. His own mother despised him and didn’t want to see him. And before she died, she had even torn his heart apart with cruel words.
His life must have been shrouded in gray mist for years. Maybe countless times he had reached out for me, only for me to coldly push him away every time.
And now, he huddled in this dark room, taking comfort in a pitiful cat as the only solace he had.
I cried for a long time. No one could see my tears, so I cried until I couldn’t hold back anymore.
My head spun from crying so hard. Only then did I get up. The darkness outside had receded, and a faint light of dawn glimmered beyond the window.
I wanted to go out and see if there was anywhere selling breakfast. Tống Lưu Nhi hadn’t eaten in a long time.
But as I reached the door, a hoarse, urgent voice called from behind me:
“Are you… leaving?”
I froze.
08
I turned around, unable to believe my eyes—Tống Lưu Nhi was really looking at me.
There was a pleading look in his eyes. He’d been crying for so long that the bridge of his nose and the corners of his eyes were red.
Like a big dog about to be abandoned by its owner, he was both sensible and painfully aware that his owner didn’t care much about him. He didn’t dare cling to them; he could only watch them timidly, begging for a scrap of pity so he wouldn’t be thrown away.
“You… can see me?”
Tears welled in Tống Lưu Nhi’s eyes. He gave a slight nod and whispered, almost inaudibly, “I was afraid… if I said anything… you’d leave.”
My heart of stone began to soften, layer by layer, until a ripple stirred within it. I went over to him and crouched down, gently patting his head—even though it was only a gesture through empty air.
“My dear Lưu Nhi, you’ve had such a hard time all these years…”
At that moment, Tống Lưu Nhi burst into sobs—unrestrained, unstoppable. He trembled, still bleeding, but right then, before a ghost who could hardly be called close to him, he completely fell apart and cried as if his life were pouring out of him.
He could take insults and abuse without so much as a reaction. But one gentle word of comfort… was enough to make all his pent-up hurt come spilling out.
When I was alive, I was consumed by hatred. I hated Tần Đại Quý. I even hated the child I couldn’t bring myself to abandon—Tống Lưu Nhi. That was why I couldn’t face anything calmly.
From the moment he was born, I never treated him like my child. Whatever he said or did, I always looked at him with the most contemptuous eyes.
After I died, my hatred gradually faded. Only when I looked at him from a different perspective… did I see how pitiful he was.
I couldn’t touch him. All I could do was stay by his side and watch him cry until he was exhausted.
“Mom… are you going to leave?”
He raised his tear-filled eyes to look at me. It seemed that if I nodded, he would fall apart on the spot.
The living and the dead belong to different worlds. I didn’t want to lie to him.
“I won a grand prize. I’m allowed to stay in the living world for three days.”
Tống Lưu Nhi lowered his eyes. “There are only two days left now…”
He forced himself to sit up again and gave a strained smile. “Do you have any wishes, Mom? I’ll help you make them come true… whatever they are…”
I cut him off. “First, tell me—was what your aunt said true? Are you… a murderer?”
Tống Lưu Nhi pressed his lips together. A long while later, he finally answered softly:
“I… killed Tần Đại Quý.”
I froze.
This was what I’d vaguely suspected—but even hearing him say it himself left me reeling.
Tống Lưu Nhi huddled in a dark corner and told me everything.
“As soon as he got out of prison, he came to your uncle’s house, wanting to take me away so I could support him in his old age. He threatened that if I refused, he’d go looking for Mom.”
“I was afraid Mom might be in danger. I was so worried about you, so I secretly took a bus to come find you in the middle of the night.”
“I… I just wanted to be with you, Mom. At least I could protect you. But I knew you didn’t want to see me…”
“On the way back to my uncle’s house, he cornered me at the train station. He knew Mom had a house and a car. He wanted to use me to control you and get himself a place to hide.”
Tống Lưu Nhi looked up at me. “I never betrayed you, Mom. I’m your child—yours and yours alone. I hate him. I’ll never forgive him, not in this lifetime.”
He lowered his head again, his voice hoarse:
“Mom… I never imagined something would happen to you.”
He smiled—a bloodstained smile, so grief-stricken it seemed to shatter him:
“I… I should have been the one to die.”
09
“So… after I died, you killed… him?”
Tống Lưu Nhi nodded faintly, his voice feather-light, as if he’d finally been freed. “He should have died long ago. He was the one who ruined your life. I was sentenced to three years and got out just six months ago.”
My voice trembled. “But I was already gone… Why would you do that…?”
“If I could go back, the moment he showed up at my uncle’s house, I’d kill him right away. Then none of this would have… wouldn’t have happened to you.”
A sharp, needlelike pain spread through my chest. So even ghosts could feel heartache.
“Do you… do you hate me?”
Tống Lưu Nhi reached out, his hand passing through my body before stopping at the corner of my eye. My tears had no form; he couldn’t wipe them away.
“Before I turned fifteen, all I wanted… was for you to be a little closer to me. Just a little. I never blamed you.”
I gazed at him in silence for a long time. My child… despite everything he’d been through, he hadn’t gone astray. Instead, he’d always blamed himself.
“Did your aunt and uncle treat you badly?”
Tống Lưu Nhi gave a soft “Mm.” “Not very well.”
He wouldn’t say just how badly.
“They live in the house Mom left behind. What about the savings account? After I died, all the money in it should have gone to you.”
“Uncle and Aunt said… they spent a lot of money on lawyers for me.”
“Did they ever show you an itemized breakdown?”
Tống Lưu Nhi shook his head. “They lied to me… I know.”
I was so angry I ground my teeth. “That was your money! Your house! You’re crammed into this rundown place while they’ve taken over the house I worked my whole life to buy and blown through all my savings!”
Tống Lưu Nhi looked briefly stunned. “I… I thought… you’d rather leave those things to them. After all, I…”
He didn’t finish, but I understood what he meant.
Emotionally, there was his older brother on one side and the child he’d once considered a burden on the other. He thought that, in my heart, I would surely favor Tống Lượng.
But legally, the property had to go to him.
And if his aunt and uncle didn’t offer it to him, he’d never ask.
I stared blankly for a moment, then sighed helplessly. “Tống Lưu Nhi, I sent Tống Lượng ten thousand yuan every month—not to support him, but because I was afraid he’d mistreat you.”
Tống Lưu Nhi’s expression seemed to freeze, then slowly brightened a little.
“I… I understand now.”
Because he’d misunderstood me, he hurried to call out, “Mom…”
“You asked me earlier if I had a wish, right? My wish is to get my house and savings back!”
Tống Lưu Nhi immediately nodded vigorously.
“But first… we have to avenge Tiểu Quái.”
10
Before we could take revenge, I made Tống Lưu Nhi go to the hospital. At first I’d considered telling him to call the police, but he had struck first, so the whole thing would probably be treated as a fight, with no easy way to tell who was right or wrong—and I didn’t have much time.
He refused to go to the hospital, saying it was a hassle and would take too long.
I gave him a cold look. “Oh, you don’t want to go? Then I’ll head back to the underworld right now.”
Tống Lưu Nhi had no choice but to obey. His injuries weren’t minor, but fortunately, nothing was broken. After the doctor applied medicine and bandaged him up, we returned to the slum.
“Do you know who killed Tiểu Quái?”
Tống Lưu Nhi thought for a moment. “It was Mai, the owner of the foot-washing shop downstairs. I’ve only ever had a run-in with her.”
“The fat woman who rounded up people to beat you?”
“Yeah.”
After hearing Tống Lưu Nhi’s account, I had a clear picture of Mai’s background.
She’d been married four times and divorced four times—each time, she’d been the other woman, only to be dumped in the end.
After her last husband kicked her out, she got a share of the assets. But she was lazy and liked to live it up, and she was addicted to gambling, so she burned through it in no time.
She had no money, was getting older, had trouble conceiving, and nobody wanted her. Unable to be a mistress anymore, she had no choice but to sell her body.
After that, she opened a foot-washing shop—a place frequented by poor, lustful men.
With someone like her, who had no shame, the only thing that could really hurt her… was money.
I quickly came up with a plan.
At the center of the slum was an old broadcast station. The neighborhood staff used it to make announcements to residents whenever something came up.
The area was poorly managed, so all we had to do was wait for the right moment. About half an hour later, after the old man in charge had left, the two actors Tống Lưu Nhi had hired slipped inside.
“What?! Mai has HIV? She really has HIV?! You mean that incurable infectious disease?!”
The two played their parts brilliantly, shouting and acting disgusted. Anyone who heard them was bound to be shocked.
“Of course! She just got tested! That damn fat woman was planning to keep it from everyone around here so she could keep doing business.”
“That’s so immoral! Anyone who still goes to her shop for a good time is practically asking to die!”
“If I were one of her customers, I’d beat her to a pulp… but someone like her wouldn’t dare call the police!”
The slum was never peaceful to begin with. As soon as the news spread, the whole place erupted.
Tống Lưu Nhi and I hid nearby in the shadows. Before long, a crowd of residents, all wearing masks and looking murderous, surged toward the foot-washing shop.
Without a word, they arrived and immediately grabbed whatever they could to smash things up. The crash of breaking objects rang through the building. They wrecked the first floor, then the whole group charged up to the second.
Mai worked nights and slept during the day. Hearing the commotion, she was just about to go downstairs and see what was happening when they beat her unconscious on the spot.
Afraid of catching the disease, none of them dared touch her. They just beat her mercilessly with sticks, then ransacked the room and took everything of value.
Watching it all unfold, I finally felt vindicated and clapped my hands in satisfaction.