Chapter 42: Me?

The number 202 bus soon started moving. I found a seat and sat down, not daring to walk toward the back of the bus. Meanwhile, Qiu Xiaoli sat in the last row, her head bowed low the entire time.

Her hair cascaded down like a waterfall, but through the strands, I occasionally caught glimpses of her eyes—pitch black and deep. A sudden chill shot down my spine, and my whole body trembled.

I quickly withdrew my gaze, only occasionally stealing a glance toward the rear of the bus. The bus sped along the deserted streets, stopping briefly at some empty stops. The doors creaked open, but with no one disembarking, they soon shut again, and the bus resumed its journey.

With my back to Qiu Xiaoli in the last row, I kept feeling as if she were standing right behind me—an eerie sensation that sent shivers down my spine.

Suddenly, the bus stopped again. A middle-aged woman boarded through the front door—the same office worker I had seen earlier that day.

She was still dressed in the same outfit from before, looking weary as she got on.

Relieved to finally see a living person on the bus, I exhaled deeply. After she tossed in her fare, she noticed me and showed a flicker of confusion on her face.

Then she looked toward the back of the bus, and her expression changed immediately.

There was no doubt—she had seen Qiu Xiaoli.

I shook my head at her, trying to lighten the oppressive atmosphere. The tension inside the bus was suffocating, and my heart was pounding wildly. So I greeted her first.

The woman was friendly and quickly responded. Soon, we began chatting casually as the bus continued along its route. Before long, the bus slowed and stopped at a station without me even realizing it.

At this moment, Qiu Xiaoli finally stood up from the back row and slowly made her way to the bus door to get off. I said goodbye to the woman and hurried to follow.

No sooner had I stepped off the bus than it roared away like a runaway, stirring up a cold gust of wind and scattering a few fallen leaves.

But my attention wasn’t on the bus; it was fixed on Qiu Xiaoli a short distance away.

As I expected, after getting off, she walked into a small convenience store. When she came out, she was holding a lollipop.

Seeing Qiu Xiaoli dressed in white, her face deathly pale, my mind raced. The figure before me was actually Qiu Xiaoli’s primary soul. Although only a spirit and not a ghost, her appearance was indistinguishable from one.

How could I persuade her to return to her body?

Setting aside whether I could actually convince her, just looking at her now sent chills through me—I dared not get closer.

But there was no time to hesitate.

I gritted my teeth and took a few steps toward her as she walked out with the lollipop. Just then, a cold wind blew, lifting the hair that hung over her face, revealing her ghastly, colorless expression.

In that instant, I froze, trembling all over.

According to the "Art of Spirits," many people don’t realize they have died and continue to wander the world in ghostly form.

The primary soul of Qiu Xiaoli in front of me was just like that.

Suddenly recalling the text, I forced myself to calm down. If I acted strangely, it might unsettle her.

So, steeling myself, I stared at her pale face and took slow steps closer. I called out, "Qiu Xiaoli."

Another gust of cold wind blew as she lifted her colorless face again. I was less than two meters away, rooted to the spot, my scalp tingling.

"Who are you? Everyone’s afraid of me. Why aren’t you?" Her voice was cold, hollow, and devoid of inflection.

I was barely holding on but forced myself to keep looking at her. "Come back with me."

She looked at me puzzled, as if she didn’t understand what I meant. I prepared to explain everything clearly—starting from her suicide by jumping into the lake, her unconscious coma in the hospital, and then telling her she was now a soul. If she didn’t return to her body, she would become a restless spirit, and her body would never awaken.

After hearing this, her cold, hollow voice sharpened with anger: "I won’t go back. What’s the difference between living and dying?"

Her agitation showed on her face as veins appeared suddenly, making her even more terrifying.

I quickly said, "If you don’t return, your body will sleep forever. Your parents will be heartbroken."

"No, they won’t be. My heart is already dead. Even if I go back, what’s the point? I don’t want to live—I never will."

After saying this, Qiu Xiaoli slowly stepped backward, her soul growing increasingly transparent. I panicked and rushed toward her, shouting, "Everything can be resolved! What burden weighs on your heart so heavily you want to die? Speak to me—I’ll help you."

But her spirit faded more and more. She shook her head at me and finally vanished before my eyes.

I reached out where she had stood, but my hand grasped nothing.

Frustration overwhelmed me—I had hoped to succeed, but had failed.

That night, I walked back to school. By the time I reached the dormitory, it was already one in the morning. My heart felt heavy all the way—was it from the sting of failure, or from recalling Ren Yunwen kneeling before me, and Qiu Xiaoli’s father doing the same?

Was there truly no way to save her?

When I finally fell asleep and opened my eyes, it was morning. Because I had stayed up late, I woke late again. But I wasn’t in a hurry. I slowly got up, washed, and left the dorm.

I didn’t go to class but headed to Liu Sui’s place.

Now, I couldn’t think of any other solution—my only option was to ask Liu Sui for help. I didn’t believe he was helpless; he just didn’t want to help.

I arrived quickly, and Liu Sui was just opening his door and stepping out.

Upon seeing me, he frowned. I immediately launched into recounting everything that had happened the day before.

After listening, Liu Sui looked at me with suspicion. "You’re saying you found where her primary soul is?"

I nodded hard. Liu Sui frowned even more deeply. After a moment, he said, "I can’t save her. You can."

I pointed at myself, stunned and doubtful. "I can?"