Chapter 2:
Paper Doll
THE JIANG FAMILY CLINIC was in Yanchao Alley. Most of the wooden buildings had burned to ashes in the fire three years ago. Only the westernmost wing remained, offering meager shelter from the wind and rain. It wasn’t fit for people to live in, but ghosts had no problem lurking there.
The son of the Jiang family, not yet twenty years old when he died, was now a ghost wandering his own family compound. After slipping into the courtyard through a crack in the wall, he loitered for a moment, though his mouth quickly went to work.
“Is there an ocean between the front gates and west wing or what?” That clear voice couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
Jiang Shining raised his sickly face to the sky. For a moment he was silent, before he continued in a low, hoarse voice, “I’m inside the compound, but the box of food is stuck outside the wall.”
He scoffed, then muttered to himself, “Amazing.”
“You flatter me.”
Jiang Shining went quiet. Beneath the moonlight, his expression turned livid, and it seemed he was unwilling to speak further.
The three walls of the dilapidated room had been blackened by smoke, and the window facing north was nothing more than a yawning hole. As it was the early hours of the morning in winter, dawn’s light was nowhere to be seen. The sky only held a smudge of the crescent moon, its light filtering in to illuminate a corner of the room. The man sitting by the ruins of the window was half cast in cold moonlight, while his other half remained shrouded in darkness. His black clothes melded into the night. Beneath his straight, beautiful brow pooled two shadows, and the pitch-black irises within reflected a faint glimmer. Even from his silhouette, it was clear he possessed a striking appearance. However, the half of his face illuminated by moonlight was unnaturally pale, and the harsh bony jut of the wrist supporting his chin spoke of a long sickness.
In truth, he really was ill. He could neither stand nor walk. As for why? Even a ghost wouldn’t know. He’d been staying in the Jiang residence for four days, but Jiang Shining knew nothing about him, beyond that his name was Xue Xian.
“Please improve your terrible sitting posture,” Jiang Shining pleaded. He’d pressed the overflowing box of food into Xue Xian’s hands right after entering the room. “If you keep slouching to the side, your upper body might become paralyzed too.” While alive, he’d spent well over a dozen years reading the classics, and Xue Xian’s indolent posture made his eyes ache.
As Jiang Shining turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer, he found his mouth moving as that clear voice rang out of his lips. “Slouching a little will paralyze me? Do you think I’m like you?”
Jiang Shining was thoroughly unhappy now, and he gazed at Xue Xian with a face full of despair. “I’m already here, Wise One. Use your own mouth to speak, won’t you?”
Xue Xian pried open the lid of the box, squinting as he sniffed at it, inhaling the aroma of hot food. Finally, he spoke with his own mouth. “All right. Since you’ve brought me meat, I’ll suffer this hardship for your sake. Want a piece?”