by Xu Xu
Seen from afar, those rows of houses certainly did not resemble tombs. Could it be that they would turn into tombs once I approached? My eyes remained fixed on them.
Evidently, they were not tombs. My red markings were still there, which proved that I had come to the right place. So she had to be a human. Still, I wanted to get to the bottom of the matter and I thought up a plan: I would drop my pipe near the front door and then knock. When she asked me why I had come back, I would say that I was looking for my pipe. I would search for it in vain, but when she walked me out again, I would simply say, “Turns out I dropped it by the entrance!”
I knocked on the door for what seemed forever until finally someone opened it. It was an older woman who must have been in her sixties. She was hard of hearing.
“Excuse me, madam, I am looking for a young lady.”
“Who are you looking for, mister?”
“I am looking for someone who lives here.”
“No one else lives here. I have lived here for over forty years, but I have never seen you before.”
“I want to visit a relative of yours, that lady who lives in the east-facing room upstairs. She usually wears black.”
“Mister, I am hard of hearing. Please keep it short and tell me what it is that you want.”
“Her last name is … Ghost. Actually … she’s called …” As a matter of fact, I never did find out her name.
“What? Her last name is ‘Ghost’? I have never heard of a last name ‘Ghost.’ Could it be that you have seen a ghost?”
“Madam, I am absolutely certain. You have to …”
“Mister, haven’t I told you that I have lived here for forty years? No one else lives here.” She was about to close the door on me, but I had already squeezed my foot and half of my body inside the entrance.
“Why don’t you go some other place and ask. Don’t waste people’s time!”
“Madam, I am not kidding you. She really lives here. I came here only yesterday evening!”
“You must be crazy! You say you are here to see a young lady and that you came last night? If there really was a young lady living here, you certainly would not have been allowed to visit her at night. And why have you come back if you were here only yesterday?”
“I forgot something.”
“What did you forget”?
“My pipe.”
“Your pipe? Is it the one lying right there by the entrance?”
That old lady might have been hard of hearing, but her eyes were sharp. She pointed at the pipe on the floor and, quite obviously debunking my lie, said, “I say, mister, you are too muddle-headed. You dropped your pipe on the road in front of my entrance door. What made you say that you dropped it in the room of a young lady? Count yourself lucky that you ran into me. What you say is so preposterous, if it had been anyone else but me, you would have been slapped in the face, and rightly so.”
What could I have said? Disheartened, I withdrew my foot and the door slammed shut. All I could do was pick up my pipe and reluctantly return home.
And so it was not until the evening of the third day that I knocked on that door again. I feared that my knocking would go unanswered, but to my surprise, Ghost immediately opened. That evening, we walked on the lawn inside the courtyard of her house and I told her about the story with the pipe.
“Human,” she said calmly,” I am invisible to you during the day, or do you still not believe I am a ghost?”
That day, when I was about to leave, I secretly placed my Omega wristwatch next to her violin. After I left, I went back to that same teahouse to take a nap. Then, after drinking a few cups of warm wine, I returned once more to her place and knocked on her door. After a long time, someone opened it. It was a servant who must have been in his fifties.
“I’d like to see your master,” I said.
“My master? And what have you come to see my master about?”
“Your master and I are old friends.” I assumed that she was the master of this house.
“Then how come I have never seen you?”
“Would you please be so kind and announce my arrival?”
He went inside and came back with an elderly gentleman who must have been past sixty.
Looking at me, the old gentleman asked his servant, “Who has he come to see?”
“He says he is an old friend of yours.”
“An old friend of mine? Mister, who exactly are you looking for?”
“I am looking for a young lady who lives here.”
“A young lady? No young lady lives here.”
“I am not kidding you, sir, she is a friend of mine. She told me that she lives upstairs in the east-facing room. I have actually been to her room, and I recall that I left my wristwatch next to her violin.”
“Let me assure you that no young lady lives here.”
“So what is that upstairs room used for?”
“It’s empty.”
“Sir, please tell me. I am not a bad person. I am a friend of the young lady who lives in that room.”
“That room really is empty. A young lady used to live there, but she died several years ago.”
“How did she die?”
“Tuberculosis. She died before we even could take her to the hospital. We now keep that room empty, to commemorate her.”
“And yet I assure you that I only recently have seen her. She likes to wear black clothes and smoke Pin Head brand cigarettes, doesn’t she?”
“That’s right, but it’s what she used to like when she was still alive.”
“Sir, that room of hers, can I take a look at it?”
“You want to take a look?”
“Yes. I am a friend of hers. I have been inside her room before. It’s a single big room, isn’t it? All the furniture is made of mahogany. There is a black canopy bed and there is a flute on a shelf and a violin, isn’t that right?”
“That’s all correct, only the canopy is white.”
“White?”
“After she died, we were afraid that the canopy would get dirty and so we covered it with a black cloth. You see, you cannot have come here while she was still alive.”
“Sir, there is no need to be suspicious of me. I am her friend, that’s the truth, whether before she died or after. All I am asking is that you permit me to take a look at that room.”
Part Two
He finally granted me my request and we went upstairs. He opened the door and we entered. It was dark inside. The room really looked as if no one had lived there in ages. For a long time, I held on to the chair where I had sat the previous night and so many other nights. I touched the objects I had used before with growing astonishment. Suddenly, my gaze met the mahogany bookshelf, and I exclaimed to the old gentleman with great excitement, “Will you believe me? There is a watch by the side of that violin and it’s mine. It even has my name engraved on the back. Besides, it’s still running.”
The old gentleman, however, replied calmly, “That is impossible, mister.”
I showed him my bare wrist, and extended my hand onto the shelf, but there was no watch. I felt around for it, but then withdrew my hand in frustration. The old gentleman did not seem surprised by this, and patting my back said, “Calm down. Even if you had put a watch here, it would have been such a long time ago that it would have stopped working by now and gone rusty. A person like her can die just like that, and you think your watch would not stop?”
“Sir, may I ask you in what relationship you stood to her?”
“She was like a daughter to me. We’ve done everything you asked, you have even seen her room, let’s go back downstairs.”
He walked me down and saw me to the door. Not another word was exchanged between us. Disappointed, I returned home. On the night of our next rendezvous, just as I was about to take my leave, she returned my watch to me and said, “Last time, you forgot this. I wound it up for you, it’s still running!”
This friendship of ours lasted for another year.
“You have lost weight,” my friends said to me.
“You have grown haggard,” my relatives noticed.
“How come you have changed so much?” the elders in my hometown remarked.
I had to think of the famous stories from *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, in which people become possessed by ghosts, but I was not possessed by her. In fact, I still had my doubts as to whether she really was a ghost. I myself was convinced that the reason I looked haggard and worn was because of my staying up all night. My habit of reading and writing until the early hours started at that time.
Still, it would not have occurred to me to end our meetings on account of me being too tired. But nevertheless, one time I said to her: “Ghost (by now, calling her by that name felt just as intimate and normal as calling her ‘darling’), could we not change the time of our meetings to daytime?”
“Daytime? You think a ghost can associate with a human during daytime? If coming here regularly in the middle of the night is too tiring for you, then how about coming only once every fortnight or once every month, or you can come once every two months.”
“But you know that I love you.”
“You are saying those words again, but those words only belong to the human realm. If humans could be in love with ghosts, then they also could be in love with cats or dogs.”
“But it happens, it actually happens often in the human realm. Think of Duke Ling of Wei of the Spring and Autumn Period who loved his crane as much as he loved his concubine.”
“But that was an unconscious emotion that belonged to the purely spiritual level.”
“Does that mean that our love, too, belongs to …”
“On the spiritual level, I love you too. But since this love is only platonic, what’s the use of dwelling on it?”
“Oh please! That man who loved his crane drove it around town in his chariot as if it were a concubine.”
“You should remember that you are the only human who can come and go to my place as he pleases.”
“But …” As I was saying this, I lowered my head toward hers.
She was seated, but clearly tried to evade me and said, “This isn’t really a beautiful gesture to express your love. You see …” She took out a pencil and paper and drew a picture of two cows and two ducks kissing each other. “Or do you think this is beautiful?”
I laughed and said, “But you should know that in this mortal world, not everything needs to be beautiful. Besides, there is no one whom I adore more than you. That’s why, if it does not cause you any physical or spiritual pain, I hope you will marry me.”
“You must be kidding!” It was not meant to be funny, but she laughed anyway. And so, the night passed like all the others.
***
Quite some time had passed when, early one morning, some friends and I were visiting Longhua Temple. Suddenly, one of my friends exclaimed:
“Have a look at this nun here. What a stunning beauty!”
A nun came walking up behind us. Everyone seemed to pay her attention now, except me. I was racking my brains to think of an excuse for not having to accompany them back to Shanghai. Instead, I wanted to take the opportunity to pay a visit to Ghost. The nun was almost level with us now. My friends were staring at her in amazement. I followed their stare and was taken aback: Wasn’t that Ghost? I tried my best to remain calm and turned my face so that she would not see me. Only when she had walked past did I turn around again. Everybody was marveling at her beauty.
I was no longer able to suppress my emotions and said to my friends, “Unfortunately, I did not get a glimpse of her face. I’ll try to catch up with her to see where her convent is located. Maybe we can visit it some time.”
Everyone thought this was a great idea, and so off I went.
“Don’t wait for me,” I told them as I left. “She might live far away.”
I then followed her home, all the while keeping a distance of a few yards between me and her. Just as she was about to enter, I caught up with her and forced myself inside, exclaiming, “Walking the streets in broad daylight, are we?”
She was startled, but immediately composed herself and assumed that solemn expression of hers. She unhurriedly climbed the stairs and I followed her upstairs. She took off her hat under which she was wearing a tight headband. She disappeared into an inner room and came out again after having changed her clothes. Then she slowly asked, “When did you start following me?”
“Did you not see me amidst that group of friends?”
“Ghosts pay no attention to human affairs,” she replied with deliberation, her eyes fixed to the floor.
“Today you have to admit that you are a human.”
“But I really am a ghost!” She raised her head. Her expression was sincere, so absolutely sincere that it should have succeeded in whitewashing any lie, but this lie was simply too big.
Even though I was still not entirely free of doubt I said, “I can no longer believe that lie of yours. You are a human! At first you did not want me to know where you lived and made me believe that your home was a grave. After I had found your home, you created more illusions with the help of some other people. Then you said that you cannot enter the human realm during daytime, but today, you have to admit that you are a human. At least admit that you have been deceiving me!”
I was really agitated now, and I spoke with a loud and irritated voice.
She leaned against the back of the chair and began to cry. Finally she said, “Why can’t you just let me be? Why do you have to insist that I am a human and drag me out of my grave and into this world? Why do you want me to live as a mortal in this monstrous world?”
This was the first time I had seen her cry, the first time I heard her speak in this tone of voice, part sad, part angry. I was moved, and kneeling down in front of her said, “Because I am a mortal, and I love you.”
“But I don’t want to be a human!”
“Now is no longer the time to talk like this. Please stop crying, and tell me why it is that you want to leave this world and live as a ghost.”
“I don’t want to recall, and I don’t want to talk about it. Please leave, and don’t come back again to disturb me. This is my world, my solitary world.” Any trace of sadness had already vanished from her speech.
“But I love you. In this human world, I have been loved by many women, but I haven’t loved any of them. But now you, who are not of this world, have driven me crazy.” My voice was trembling a little because my heart was pounding.
She suddenly regained her composure. Her anger had completely subsided. She smiled a little, but her smile was colder than ice. Gracefully like a cloud, she moved over to the table, took a cigarette, and also handed one to me.
“Human, have a cigarette. Calm down, and get a grip on yourself.” As she lit my cigarette for me she spat a mouthful of smoke into my face. Then she abruptly walked over to the window. I noticed that thick cloth curtains were drawn over all the windows, except for the two nearest to us. She held her cigarette in her mouth, and I saw the smoke escape through the open window, like a soul rising to the sky. She then let the curtain fall, first over the window where she was standing and then over the other one, before slowly sitting down on the sofa. A lamp with an amber-colored shade stood behind the sofa. She switched it on with the turn of her hand and said, “Even if I am a human being, believe me that I can instantly turn into the kind of ghost you might imagine.”
I saw that she was holding a shiny little dagger. I had often seen that dagger and even tinkered with it, but in the past, I had only thought of it as a trinket. Now I realized that it also was a lethal weapon.
“If circumstances or the will of others won’t permit me any longer to live like a ghost, then this dagger can turn me into a real ghost at once. It’s not much that separates a human from becoming a ghost.”
She had spoken these words in a cold and sharp voice. The amber light of the lamp shone on her face, her hand, and the dagger
she was still holding. Her gaze was piercing. All this gave the scene a threatening atmosphere. Unwittingly, I dropped the cigarette I was still holding between my lips. I was losing my wits. In a flash, I sensed all the witchcraft of a sorceress and the art of a hypnotist. I turned my eyes away from hers and stared at her feet. I was completely under her spell. My gaze still fixed at her feet, I thought, “Maybe she really is a ghost? But even if she is a human, she surely possesses some magic.”
It took me about a minute to regain my senses, and for my brain to work rationally again.
“Let’s pretend it’s night,” she suddenly said calmly. “You sit over there. Let your mind be as placid as the light that surrounds us, and let us talk about events far removed from this world.”
“So tell me first, why is it that you want to leave the human world and live in this way? Why is it that you want to be a ghost when quite clearly you are a human? And why won’t you allow me to love you?”
I had gotten up to seize the dagger from her. I was watching her attentively, but she avoided my gaze. She had lowered her head and her hair covered her face. No one spoke for the duration it takes to smoke half a cigarette. I sat down in an armchair in front of her. With my elbows resting on my knees I leaned forward toward her, my eyes still focused on her. The distance that separated us was no more than two feet. I was waiting for her reply, fiddling all the while with the dagger that measured about ten inches.
“Of course I also used to be a human in the past,” she finally said. “In fact, I gave my all to humanity. What’s more, I was in love with someone who cared infinitely more about humanity than you.”
“And …?”
“We were engaged in revolutionary activities. We worked in secret, enduring countless hardships and traveling many roads.” Her tone of voice was gloomy at first, but then all of a sudden was filled with vigor.
“Human, tell me, what exactly is it that you love in me?”