19: The Many Faces of the World

On Sunday, Qin Yan received a notice in the group chat—this year’s Children’s Day would change format. Instead of the children performing on stage, it would be the teachers who would perform, and the children would act as judges. The teacher who received the most red flowers would be crowned the “Child Star” of the kindergarten.

On the surface, the teachers in the group responded calmly, but once they moved to their smaller chat groups, complaints began to flow:

[What is this? We waited so long for an announcement, I thought they weren’t doing it this year and were just going to give us a holiday. Now they suddenly say teachers have to perform?!]

[Are they crazy? There are only a few days left! Can I do a poetry recitation?]

[Hmm, poetry recitation might not be appreciated by the kids. Be careful, you might not get a single red flower. How embarrassing.]

[Singing? Dancing? Playing the piano? Cross-talk?…]

[What I’m more concerned about is, will the parents come to watch?]

[Oh my God, I can’t afford to be embarrassed! I used to laugh and take photos when the kids were up on stage, tears in their eyes. Now, the tables have turned.]

The notice had already been given, and there was no use complaining further. Even though the time was tight, the teachers didn’t feel too nervous. After all, kindergarten teachers had their skills—who couldn’t sing, dance, or entertain children?

Even if they didn’t want to sing or dance, they could always make funny faces on stage and get a burst of laughter from the kids. Kids were easy to please. Just a little bit of makeup and exaggerated expressions, and they’d have their attention.

Qin Yan pondered, what kind of performance should he do?

Singing and dancing were too common—no mistakes, but also no real flair.

He propped his face with his hand, absentmindedly squishing his face.

Zhou Shurong sat on the armrest of the sofa, teasing gently, “I’ve never seen your performance. No chance when I was alive, but I guess I’ll get to see it now.”

At this moment, Teacher Mi Zhou (Rice Porridge), who was in charge of the same class, privately messaged Qin Yan: [Teacher Dou Sha Bao (Sweet Bean Paste), how about we do a performance together?]

Qin Yan: [Is it allowed?]

Teacher Mi Zhou: [I asked the principal, and they said it’s fine.]

Qin Yan: [So, what kind of performance?]

Teacher Mi Zhou: [We can do a performance of the fable “Waiting for Rabbits,” it’s very educational!]

Qin Yan felt the other person was rushing things a bit too much and didn’t fully agree. He reminded: [Today is the 28th, there’s no time for rehearsals.]

Teacher Mi Zhou: [It’s a very simple story! You’ll just play the rabbit, no lines at all!]

Teacher Mi Zhou was a very ambitious new teacher. She knew Qin Yan was popular with the kids and would definitely get a lot of red flowers, so she worked hard to pull him in. She wanted to impress the principal.

Teacher Mi Zhou: [Please!]

Qin Yan thought about it. Playing a rabbit with no lines and little screen time seemed fun and easy, so he agreed.

Teacher Mi Zhou: [Great! I’ll come find you this afternoon! We can rehearse in the plaza at the bottom of your residential area!]

Qin Yan: [Are you sure? It’s going to be really sunny.]

Teacher Mi Zhou: [It’s a free venue, we can’t ask for too much. The house I rented doesn’t even have a neighborhood, so we’ll have to go to yours. We can find a spot with some trees, and it’ll be cool, right?]

Qin Yan: [Alright.]

He put down his phone and muttered, “A rabbit? I’m going to play a rabbit?”

Zhou Shurong clapped his hands and laughed, “A rabbit… haha, a rabbit!”

But just as he started to feel excited, he suddenly remembered his own unresolved predicament. The smile on his face faded, and he sighed, “I really wish it were a cloudy day.”

Being a ghost wasn’t that great.

No wonder everyone wants to stay alive.

The people he loved were in the world of the living. There was a gap between the living and the dead—They couldn’t see him, touch him, or hear him… It was a one-man show, with no audience, and he didn’t know how long he could hold on.

“Ah Yan, look. The color of the sun is so beautiful today.”

Sunlight streamed in, cut into uneven grids by the anti-theft bars, like a fishing net trapping half the sofa.

Zhou Shurong sat on the other end of the sofa, gazing absently at the soft, warm light.

Such beautiful sunlight, golden and dazzling.

He used to never care, but now that he had come to appreciate it, he couldn’t bask in it anymore.

Qin Yan, for some reason, also looked at the sunlight that had climbed onto the sofa.

He furrowed his brow, not in the mood to admire the sunlight, hurriedly picking up the incense burner on the coffee table. “This isn’t a good spot for you. If the sunlight hits you, it’s definitely going to burn!”

At his words, Zhou Shurong shifted his gaze to the incense burner, his voice light as he said:

“Yeah, it’s really painful. If it shines for a bit longer, I feel like it’ll burn my skin off. Ah Yan, can you bring an umbrella when you go out from now on?”

Qin Yan didn’t respond. He placed the incense burner in the bedroom. When he came back, he was holding a large pile of clothes belonging to Zhou Shurong.

Zhou Shurong: “Ah, you’re doing laundry again? Can’t you do something else?”

Qin Yan thought doing laundry today was perfectly reasonable. It had been so hot last night, holding the clothes while sleeping had made them sweaty, so naturally, they needed washing.

“I’m definitely not doing something repetitive and boring just to kill time,” he said.

“I’m busy today, too. After laundry, I need to cook and eat. In the afternoon, Teacher Mi Zhou is coming to rehearse the program.”

“So busy!” Qin Yan seemed to enjoy it, his steps light.

“You’re just hiding the truth,” Zhou Shurong remarked.

This sharp critique, unfortunately, went unheard by Qin Yan.

Qin Yan liked to act busy, and no one could wake him up from it.

Zhou Shurong leaned against the bathroom door, arms crossed, watching for a while. Then, suddenly, he said: “I’ll go out for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

He had been thinking about the baby ghost from yesterday.

The woman who had been tormented by the baby ghost—her body had become thin and weak, and she looked drained of all her vitality.

Zhou Shurong was worried. What if he had been around Qin Yan for too long, and Qin Yan ended up becoming like that?

Where was she?

Qin Yan lived on the fifth floor. When Zhou Shurong entered the elevator, the woman was already inside. She must live on the floors above the fifth.

He had never seen her before; she must have just moved in.

She could also be just visiting a friend, a passerby.

Zhou Shurong wasn’t short on time. He wasn’t afraid of searching, but he was afraid of not finding her.

Every door was a barrier.

The ghost must be invited to enter a door.

On this day, he witnessed all kinds of human nature.

In Room 601 on the sixth floor, parents who desperately wanted their son to excel in life were giving him guidance. They passionately discussed how subjects like music, art, and sports were not mainstream and unimportant. “Just focus on math, language, and English, that’s all that matters!”

“English is your weak point. We’ve specially enrolled you in an English class that starts next week. You’ll attend class on Saturdays and Sundays from now on! Stop thinking about other things!”

The son didn’t respond, keeping his head low, eyes fixated on a basketball in the corner.

When the doorbell rang, the mother paused her lecture and opened the door, only to find no one there.

On the seventh floor in Room 703, two just-graduated girls were finally enjoying their day off by lying down and relaxing.

They sprawled on the sofa, watching TV, with a table full of snacks, and a large bottle of chilled cola to drink like alcohol.

“Come on, let’s drink! Tonight we get drunk!”

“Haha, cheers!”

The doorbell rang again, and they pushed each other, “You go answer it!” “No, you go!”

There was no need to answer. Zhou Shurong heard the noise from inside and knew they weren’t the people he was looking for, so he left.

On the eighth floor in Room 802, a happy family of four was playing with blocks. The young couple was building a beautiful castle with their adorably clumsy twin toddlers.

Zhou Shurong couldn’t help but watch a little longer.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

“Another knock? Is it another prank?” the young mother grumbled. She didn’t rush to open the door but asked the babies, “Big Baby, Little Baby, if it’s someone we don’t know, should we open the door?”

The twins answered in unison: “No!”

The parents smiled, their eyes curved with joy. The baby with the rounder head shouted loudly towards the door: “Who are you?”

The person outside replied, “Sister Zhou, it’s Ah Ling from next door.”

The mother quickly got up to open the door. As it opened, a pale, emaciated face appeared, nearly impossible to tell her true age.

Zhou Shurong’s eyes lit up—he had found her!

Suddenly, a baby ghost crawled in from the doorway at lightning speed. It made strange, high-pitched noises, like a calf rushing towards the beautiful castle.

The castle collapsed with a loud crash. The baby ghost froze, its mouth pouting, about to cry.

“Wah—!”

The first to cry were the twins. Their cries were contagious, and the baby ghost, who had initially been able to hold back, couldn’t anymore and started wailing loudly too.

“Wah wah—wah—”

This was true ear-piercing, supernatural crying, which caused physical harm to the other ghost present.

Zhou Shurong’s eyes filled with blood. Soon, a trail of blood tears slowly slid down his face.