44. Ghosts take on the shape of humans.

“Old Chen, what do you think ghosts look like?”

Chen Sheng stepped out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, only to hear a certain young girl ask him this question.

“Ghosts?”

He turned his face to glance toward the bedroom.

The door was closed, so nothing inside was visible.

But Chen Sheng could easily imagine the girl wrapped up in her blanket, lying on the bed, just like a cocooned larva.

He had seen this scene more than once.

His mouth twitched; he didn’t understand why she suddenly brought this up, but he didn’t dwell on it. He simply said, “A ghost? It probably looks like a person.”

“Like a person?”

The girl in the bedroom was clearly surprised by his answer.

At first, it sounded rather odd. But on second thought, it seemed to carry a deeper meaning. Yet, no matter how she pondered it, she couldn’t quite grasp what that meaning was. So, furrowing her delicate brows, unable to unravel the mystery, she pressed on, “Why do you say that?”

Chen Sheng kept a straight face and said nothing. He couldn’t very well admit he was just being perfunctory.

“Old Chen?”

The girl’s soft voice drifted from the bedroom, urging him—no doubt it was Yu Youxin. Chen Sheng improvised, “Ghosts harm people mostly because of grudges they carried in life, or sometimes because someone trespassed into a place haunted by a ghost. Either way, there’s always some pattern to it. But when people harm people, there’s no pattern at all. Sometimes it’s for money, sometimes on a whim, sometimes after careful planning, and sometimes just out of lust…”

He found himself speaking more fluently as he recalled news stories he’d read: people kidnapping children, crippling them to beg on the streets, or abducting those with intellectual disabilities to sell as slaves in illegal kilns, or sending them off as farm laborers in remote mountains.

Which of those villains in the news isn’t more terrifying than any evil spirit?

“So, ghosts are just like people,” Chen Sheng concluded forcefully, feeling he’d made his point. Whether the logic held up or not, since the subject was ghosts, who cared about logic?

He finished speaking and looked toward the bedroom, but there was no response for a long time.

“Did she fall asleep again?”

“Back to being a night owl in the middle of the night?”

He glanced at the snack box on the coffee table in the living room. There had been plenty of chips and candies, but now only a few pieces of candy remained.

Shaking his head, Chen Sheng paid it no mind and left for work.

“Yes, ghosts… are just like people…” At that moment, the girl’s soft voice echoed from the bedroom, full of agreement with Chen Sheng’s words.

She seldom used her ghostly art, “Four Poems for the Living.”

But last night, she couldn’t help herself and unleashed its most vicious move, utterly destroying Liu Susu’s soul.

Because she sensed traces of living energy lingering on Liu Susu.

No ghost can resist the temptation to become human again.

Thus, after tasting the energy of the living, a ghost develops an insatiable craving for it. Such ghosts tend to abandon the usual "conditions for harming people" and become relentless predators.

Ordinary ghosts have rules—they only harm people under specific conditions. As long as you don’t trigger a ghost’s “harm condition,” you could live in a haunted house, sleep beside a ghost every night, and remain safe.

These ghosts are called “living ghosts.”

It means you might survive even if you encounter them.

But vengeful ghosts are different.

They harm people unconditionally!

Turning over again, the girl lying on the bed let out a heavy sigh.

Because she thought of certain things.

But soon, she paused.

“Hm?”

“Why am I thinking about all this?”

Her bright, wide eyes blinked.

“And besides, unless something unexpected happens, all this is what Old Chen will have to deal with in the future…”

Immediately, as though revived, she jumped out of bed full of energy.

The pair of glasses she gave Chen Sheng was unlike what she gave “the others”!

For the others, it’s merely a “ticket”—those who receive it are allowed to enter, but once inside, they’re unlikely to survive; even if they do, they’ll be cursed for life.

Though the place claims to suppress curses and keep the evil spirits contained, can you really trust a ghost’s word?

But what Chen Sheng received was more than just a “ticket”!

…

“Good morning, Old Chen!”

“Old Chen, you’re early today!”

“Morning, Brother Zhang, Sister Li.” Chen Sheng greeted his colleagues at the hospital with familiarity. The ones greeting him were two elderly hospital attendants, one in his forties, the other nearly sixty.

From “Little Chen” to “Old Chen,” Chen Sheng had learned to accept it with ease.

After all, there was no choice.

Even the mother of the new nurse Chen Xiaohui had taken a liking to him…

That was truly absurd.

Chen Sheng walked to his medical office and sat there until noon—not because he was busy, but because he had nothing to do.

He got up to go for lunch.

But as soon as he stepped outside, he spotted a familiar figure lingering at the hospital entrance.

“It’s her?”

Chen Sheng recognized the short-haired policewoman—he’d seen her medical records before, so he remembered her name was Xu Rongrong.

Though he recognized her, he didn’t approach.

He didn’t think much about why she was at the hospital.

But then, Xu Rongrong walked straight toward him, so Chen Sheng stopped where he was, sensing she was there to see him.

“Hello, Doctor Chen.” Xu Rongrong reached him first and greeted him.

Up close, Chen Sheng noticed that she looked unwell—despite her makeup, the exhaustion in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Hello,” Chen Sheng replied, unsure how to address her, so he simply skipped any formalities.

“Doctor Chen, there are some things I’d like to discuss with you—personally,” Xu Rongrong said directly, looking at him.

Chen Sheng found it strange—what private matters could he possibly have with her? But after thinking it over, he said, “It’s lunchtime anyway. My treat. How about that restaurant? They have private rooms, perfect for conversation.”

After all, Xu Rongrong was a police officer; she wouldn’t come to him without reason.

“Alright.” Xu Rongrong nodded.

They went to the restaurant. Chen Sheng ordered a small private room and just one dish—a bowl of pickled fish with rice—and happily began to eat.

Xu Rongrong didn’t eat; she didn’t even touch her chopsticks. Only after Chen Sheng was nearly finished did she speak: “Doctor Chen, about what happened last time—do you really think it was a parasite?”

She was direct.

Chen Sheng paused before recalling what she meant.

“Wasn’t it?” he asked in surprise. Although some things had felt off at the time, hadn’t the military hospital cured Xu Rongrong and the other police officer?