There was little left to argue at this point.
With the mission over, Jiang Yan reached out her hand to Pingping. Pingping hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand in Jiang Yan’s palm.
Jiang Yan took hold of the little girl’s hand and turned to leave.
As they passed Room 404, the door swung open.
Xiao Jia and Xiao Tian came out.
The two children looked up at Jiang Yan. Jiang Yan glanced at Pingping, then met their gaze.
“Sis, can you really bear to let us disappear?”
The two children asked Jiang Yan.
Jiang Yan replied, “Of course I can.”
And so, the two children collapsed in front of Jiang Yan.
Gentle Xiao Jia and chubby Xiao Tian lay on the cold floor tiles, soft black hair scattered over their cheeks, their chests utterly still, as if they were merely asleep.
Pingping was trying to tug at her heartstrings, but, unfortunately, Jiang Yan truly felt nothing at such a scene.
She didn’t even alter the pace of her steps.
Jiang Yan walked straight ahead, and one by one, the patients walked up to her and fell at her feet: an old man fond of Tai Chi, an auntie who had once eagerly chatted with her. Soon, over twenty corpses lined the corridor.
The scene was both eerie and grand.
Pingping glanced sideways at Jiang Yan a few times, then lowered her lashes. “You’re really amazing.”
So unfathomably indifferent.
Jiang Yan did not answer Pingping, instead warning her, “Don’t think about running.”
“Your power has no effect on me. It’ll be very easy for me to catch you.”
Pingping said, “But then they won’t be able to go to school anymore.”
It was entirely predictable: once she left this place, she would be under permanent surveillance, unable to freely control her friends, and no school would ever take in a few controlled corpses.
“You could ask if they even want to go to school after death,” Jiang Yan replied.
“In truth, your peers aren’t so passionate about studying—especially after dying.”
Pingping looked a little surprised. “But on TV they say people should keep learning their whole lives.”
“They didn’t say you have to study after death.” Jiang Yan pressed the elevator button.
“You’re treating your friends like overworked employees forced to work overtime even after they’re dead. If I got treated that way myself, I’d probably give you a few punches.”
After all, Pingping was just a ten-year-old child. Her world was confined to the basement, performance stage, and laboratory. Upon hearing Jiang Yan’s words, she was momentarily stunned.
But she quickly shook her head. “Not going to school is fine.”
“It’s just, I want much more than that.”
The front gate of Baishan Sanatorium appeared ahead. Jiang Yan pushed open the glass doors.
But Pingping did not go any further.
She slipped her hand from Jiang Yan’s, retreated a few steps, and twenty-some corpses began to stagger and fall from the fourth floor, assembling disjointedly behind her.
Standing among the corpses were several psychics who had just walked out from the stairwell.
“I still want to try escaping.”
“Though I can’t control you, controlling them is pretty easy.”
Pingping smiled at Jiang Yan; in an instant, Shen Huanhuan’s palm blazed with golden light. Golden cords swiftly wrapped Jiang Yan, and Yu Renwan and Lin Xinjiu, also under Pingping’s control, rushed forward to encircle Jiang Yan.
Jiang Yan did not move.
Pingping looked at her for a moment, then dragged Shen Huanhuan away.
Shen Huanhuan’s paralyzed legs scraped across the floor as Pingping murmured a few words to her. Then, as if weightless, Pingping easily dragged the much-taller Shen Huanhuan toward the elevator.
Jiang Yan didn’t rush to free herself from the cords, but watched from afar as the elevator’s “-1” button lit up.
This girl, truthfully, had little desire to escape.
She knew full well she could not, yet she ran anyway. Without the least will to survive, she didn’t even attempt to flee outside, but instead went down to the basement.
With a sigh, Jiang Yan’s phone vibrated suddenly.
“Please save her.”
It was a message from He Qingyuan.
Jiang Yan covered the camera with her hand and asked, “Why?”
He Qingyuan replied, “If she survives, she’ll succeed the Supernatural Administration Bureau in the future.”
Perhaps because Jiang Yan did not reply, He Qingyuan sent another message: “If you save her, you may take any artifact from the Department of Yao Control’s vault.”
“That’s all?” Jiang Yan curled her lips.
To save someone with such potential, and only offer one artifact? It was rather stingy.
Another message quickly arrived.
“I know where Jiang Chixi’s reincarnation is.”
Jiang Yan’s fingertip paused in midair.
A moment later, she replied, “Turn off everyone’s cameras.”
As Deputy Director of the Supernatural Administration Bureau, He Qingyuan wielded absolute authority here.
In the next second, the cameras of all five psychics gave a “beep,” and the live stream was plunged into darkness.
Baffled viewers were left bewildered.
[What happened???]
[Did Pingping turn off everyone’s cameras?!]
[What is she trying to do??]
Jiang Yan was unaware of the speculation in the chat. As the true culprit, she casually lifted her hand. Powerful yao force surged from her palm; in less than half a second, the patients before her convulsed as if struck by lightning. Without sparing them even a glance, Jiang Yan lowered her hand.
All the patients immediately collapsed.
The psychics, too, snapped out of Pingping’s control.
Lin Xinjiu pressed his forehead, slowly sitting on the lobby couch.
Yu Renwan staggered; Xiao Wa, trembling, peeked out from her backpack, staring at Jiang Yan in horror.
Shen Xiaoxiao, groggy, clutched her head, fumbling for her sister. “Sis?”
But no one was beside her.
That finally cleared her mind, no matter how dizzy she was. She quickly squinted around. “Sis?!”
Jiang Yan nudged her shoulder. “Come downstairs with me.”
Shen Xiaoxiao had no idea what had just happened, but quickly nodded. “My sister—she’s in the basement?”
“Mm, Pingping took her down.”
Because Jiang Yan and Pingping’s standoff had happened in Room 405, no information had leaked out, so Shen Xiaoxiao was still in the dark. While descending, Jiang Yan succinctly filled her in.
At the end, she wound a loop of red thread around Shen Xiaoxiao’s wrist. “Wear this. It’ll block any influence.”
“Okay, okay.”
Worried about her sister, Shen Xiaoxiao had no energy left to be shocked by Pingping’s powers or the red thread’s function. The two hurried downstairs.
The basement was noticeably colder than the lobby.
At the far end, the iron door of the cold storage cast a frigid sheen, reflecting their blurry silhouettes.
Jiang Yan recalled what Pingping had said: the underground laboratory was beneath the cold storage. She didn’t bother to lower her voice as she walked up and pushed open the heavy door.
What she saw made her pause.
Shen Xiaoxiao anxiously craned her head; at the scene inside, her eyes went wide with shock.
Unlike any cold storage they had imagined, here everything radiated warmth.
The walls were painted pink, the wallpaper orange with cartoon bears. The corners overflowed with cute plushies: dolls with bows, carrots with bowties. Most incredibly, the floor was carpeted in lush green grass, and at the center hung an exquisitely crafted swing.
This wasn’t a cold storage. It was a toy house, a playground.
Shen Xiaoxiao whispered, “Is this…?”
Jiang Yan mused, “Probably Pingping’s doing.”
“Remember that first night? Xiao Jia was hiding in the cold storage.”
“But didn’t you say Xiao Jia was fake? That all the children were dead, controlled by Pingping? If they’re dead, Xiao Jia wouldn’t feel cold…”
“Maybe she couldn’t bear to let even the fakes get cold.” Jiang Yan said quietly.
A shadow of sadness flickered across Shen Xiaoxiao’s face.
Jiang Yan walked straight to the pile of plushies, sifting through to find a half-meter-tall iron door hidden behind them. Without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled it open and crawled inside. Shen Xiaoxiao rubbed her face and followed.
The tunnel was long, its interior rusted, the air thick with metallic tang.
After five minutes of groping through, they finally saw a faint glimmer. The end was not locked: Jiang Yan was the first to push the door open.
A rush of floral scent overwhelmed them.
If the cold storage had been surprising, the floor below defied all belief.
Flowers, those in and out of season alike, bloomed over every inch: snowy hydrangeas, pale yellow wintersweet, pink wax plums, clustered and tangled together. Two fluffy kittens, catching sight of them, showed no fear—rolling to expose their white bellies and mewing softly.
Shen Xiaoxiao instinctively softened her steps.
One kitten tugged at her pants, scrambling into her arms, and she couldn’t resist scooping it up.
Jiang Yan walked on, and at the next corner, a calf-sized baby elephant appeared.
It roamed freely between the walls, its form half-transparent as if projected. It trumpeted with joy at Jiang Yan, who reached out to stroke its ear. Suddenly, a mother elephant appeared, curling her trunk around the baby. The two elephants nestled together tenderly.
The sight defied description.
Jiang Yan watched them for a few seconds before withdrawing her hand and calling for Shen Xiaoxiao to move on.
Shen Xiaoxiao set down the kitten she held.
“Pingping wouldn’t hurt my sister,” she said, keeping pace with Jiang Yan.
Jiang Yan merely grunted. The space below was small; in just a few minutes, they reached the end.
Shen Huanhuan sat by a door at the end.
Jiang Yan’s earlier disruption had broken Pingping’s control; Pingping had suffered a backlash, her spiritual power damaged. She gave up trying to control Shen Huanhuan.
When Shen Huanhuan saw them, she whispered, “She locked herself in this room.”
Opening the door wasn’t difficult; what was hard was summoning spirits—convincing the deceased children to persuade Pingping.
Jiang Yan pulled out the drawing from Pingping’s file. She hadn’t put it back earlier. She wasn’t sure who had drawn it—if all four of the children had left their mark, it was impossible to know whose spirit might be summoned.
At the sight of the drawing, Shen Xiaoxiao shook her head in frustration. “We probably can’t summon any of them. This painting is from all of us to Pingping—she’s the owner.”
Seeing Shen Huanhuan’s confusion, Shen Xiaoxiao quickly explained what was happening.
When they learned that Le Yi was Pingping, and Pingping’s blood was Le Yi’s, Shen Huanhuan pointed at some blood on the flowers nearby.
“She coughed up blood there, just now.”
“If her blood came from Le Yi,” Shen Huanhuan said, “then it should be able to summon Le Yi’s spirit.”
“After all, Le Yi was forced into that operation. The true owner of the blood is still Le Yi.”
Jiang Yan stepped over and indeed saw spatters of red on the petals. She broke off the flower and passed it to Shen Xiaoxiao. “Try this.”
Almost as soon as Shen Xiaoxiao took the flower, Jiang Yan broke the lock and opened the door.
Inside, Pingping lay with the other children.
The room overflowed with blooms; pure white sheets spread across an endless sea of flowers, four children sleeping in a row, eyes closed, faces angelic.
Jiang Yan glanced over each face, then scanned the room.
In one corner were several pieces of broken ceramic and a bag of tomato-flavored chips.
Jiang Yan bent to pick up the battered bag. Behind her, Shen Xiaoxiao spoke.
“Failed.”
This was her second failure in just two days.
The first time, Jiang Yan had given her Pingping’s hair, but since they’d both assumed Pingping was Le Yi, Shen Xiaoxiao’s failed attempt led to the mistaken conclusion that Le Yi was still alive.
Now, it failed again.
On the third try, Jiang Yan handed the plastic bag to Shen Xiaoxiao. “One more time.”
Shen Xiaoxiao quickly took it.
Pingping was breathing shallowly. The spirit backlash from earlier had left her too weak to use her powers; she estimated she’d need to rest until morning before searching for her friends.
Then they could sing in heaven.
Not “Five Tigers” this time—something prettier. Like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” or “The dark night ever falling, bright stars always following.”
As Pingping’s thoughts drifted with longing, her face was suddenly pinched.
It hurt, painfully so.
Le Yi’s voice sounded above her.
“What the heck is wrong with you?!”
Pingping’s lashes fluttered. She opened her eyes as if waking from a dream.
“You’re seriously twisted, you know that? You actually wanted to be my twin?” Le Yi, still pinching Pingping’s cheek, made a face of utter disdain. “You don’t have any taste. Your own face is no worse than mine!”
Pingping looked at the girl above her—this Shen Xiaoxiao person—and her eyes instantly reddened.
Le Yi glanced around, spotting the half-meter-long silver needle lying behind Pingping.
Her eyes lit up as she bent to grab it.
The sharp needle spun effortlessly between her fingers; having grown up in the circus, she was no stranger to such tricks.
“You made this for me?” Le Yi looked at Pingping.
Pingping choked up, lips trembling, tears streaming down her face like a child.
Le Yi rolled her eyes. “All you know is crying.”
“If you’ve taken my face, you’d better become really cool. Don’t ruin my reputation.”
Pingping hurried to explain, “I tried hard to be cool.”
“I was so close—if only I could’ve fooled everyone, then everyone could’ve gone to school.”
“School??”
Le Yi stared incredulously at the other corpses. “So this is how you tormented them?”
Pingping’s expression turned blank.
Le Yi threw her a withering look. “Are you brainless? Who wants to go to school after they die? Most people hope to retire someday—if I haven’t even made it and you make me work after death, that’s just insane!”
Pingping gave Jiang Yan a quick glance.
She remembered Jiang Yan had said much the same.
Le Yi tossed the needle to Pingping. “Stop messing around and let us rest in peace. Who wants to keep moving after death? Our bones are brittle enough already.”
“But, but—”
Seeing Pingping still wanting to argue, Le Yi raised her hand to silence her. “And don’t come looking for us.”
“When we died, all four of us queued up together in the underworld. If you want to join, you’ll have to cut in line. That’s not good.”
“Plus, this will just make them feel guilty. They all hope you’ll live to a hundred.”
Pingping stammered, “…Really?”
Le Yi nodded. “Mmhm. They’re all right here beside me. They’ve got something to tell you.”
Pingping’s eyes widened in disbelief.
She’d thought seeing Le Yi would be the best thing ever. She hadn’t dreamed she’d get to see them all.
Xiao Tian appeared first, patting his now-chubby corpse and beaming. “Thanks, Pingping! I really did gain fifty pounds! Real men have to be big and strong!”
“But let’s leave protecting you for the next life. You’ll definitely be younger than me then, and I’ll chase off all the baddies for you!”
“Next life…”
Xiao Tian nodded firmly. “You live a long time, and we’ll meet again in the next life!”
Xiao Jia came out next, shyly kissing Pingping on the cheek.
“Live well, okay?”
“Pingping’s never seen a river, a beautiful, colorful river. Let’s go see one tomorrow.”
Pingping choked up, hugging Xiao Jia tightly.
Last to appear was Le Yao.
Le Yao looked at Pingping for a long time, then smiled, warm as sunlight.
“When people die, they become stars. So if you ever miss me, just look up. I’ll always be watching over you.”
“As long as you’re happy, Pingping, I’ll shine bright for you.”
Finally, even Le Yi relented and gave Pingping a hug.
“My face is in your care now.”
“Be cooler, Pingping.”
Pingping clung to Le Yi’s hand, not wanting to let go.
When Le Yi finally faded away, and Shen Xiaoxiao regained control of her body, Pingping at last let her emotions loose.
How many people could bear such partings?
Her body shook uncontrollably; sobs burst from her throat in heavy gulps, tears spilling onto her clothes.
She clung to Shen Xiaoxiao’s sleeve and wept her heart out.
Jiang Yan turned and asked Shen Huanhuan quietly, “Is it supposed to work like that?”
Shen Huanhuan shook her head lightly. “Of course not.”
“Xiaoxiao can only summon one spirit at a time.”
Jiang Yan nodded.
So, it was all Le Yi after all.