Chapter 4
THE HOUSE WAS TOO BIG. The few living beings inside could not fill the whole space; on the contrary, it was full of death’s oppressive scent. That was a smell that not even sunlight and fresh flowers could chase away.
He stood in the foyer, hesitant. This was technically his home, but every time he set foot in this spotless foyer and faced the sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, he felt fear in his heart.
Suddenly, faint music floated down the stairs, a lady’s melodious voice singing a repeated refrain. He froze for a second, as though he knew exactly what was about to happen, then slowly stepped forward. The sunlight illuminating him immediately grew strange—cold and damp—not like sunlight at all. It felt more like wind in a thunderstorm as it blew against his forearm, which his summer school uniform didn’t cover. Goosebumps erupted all over his skin.
As he climbed the stairs to the second floor, the music became clearer and clearer. The familiar tune stuck like a fishbone in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. He stopped suddenly, wanting to run away, but when he looked back, everything behind him had melted into darkness. It was as though the entire situation was preset, predetermined. There was only one road, one direction.
The darkness pressed into him on all sides. It forced him up the narrow staircase and compelled him to open that door. There was a boom, and he felt like something had exploded right next to his ear.
He looked down and saw the woman on the floor.
Her neck was at an unnatural angle, her body already turning a harsh blue. Her eyes were still open as if, despite her body’s death, her soul was still alive. She stared straight at him through those fixed, lifeless eyeballs. Two lines of blood trailing downward from the corners of her eyes, she asked coldly, “Why didn’t you save me?”
His breathing quickened, and he scrambled backward, but the woman stood up, swaying as she pointed at him with a finger mottled with livor mortis.
“You’re so smart. You knew everything. Why did you avoid me? Why didn’t you save me?”
Almost as if it was alive, the sweeping darkness caught her hand. That darkness mercilessly swallowed her whole as she screamed and questioned him. She struggled to reach him, but the blackness continued to pull her in. As he listened to her scream, he instinctively took that ice-cold, mottled hand, feeling like he was falling. All of a sudden, he felt something grab him from behind. His back pressed against a warm, firm body, and a pair of arms encircled him, hands covering his eyes.
From those slender fingers, he caught the faint scent of cigarette smoke. Then, between those fingers, a sliver of light exploded—and Fei Du woke with a start.
Cracking his stiff neck, he realized he was sitting in his study. A dull project proposal was propped open in his lap. He’d fallen asleep halfway through it and then had a suffocating nightmare—perhaps because of the way he was sitting, which had given him a crick in his neck.
It was the afternoon. A cold, humid breeze blew in through the window, promising a heavy downpour. The booming sound in his dream, and the sudden flash of light, had actually been thunder and lightning. Next to him, his phone kept ringing, showing three missed calls—no wonder he’d dreamt of that song.
Rising to close the window, Fei Du also picked up his phone. “Hello?”
Zhang Donglai’s loud voice punched him in the ear. “Lord Fei, it’s the middle of the day! Whose embrace are you languishing in right now? I called you so many times, and you didn’t pick up!”
“The thunder was too loud for me to hear it.” Fei Du’s head felt a little heavy. He rubbed his brow. “What’s up?”
“‘ The wind’s strong, the rain’s heavy, the sun’s out,’5 babe, come out and have some fun!”
Fei Du reached the window, feeling as though he could practically have wrung water out of the humid air. The plants he kept near the window all hung limply. “In this weather?” he said impatiently. “Where?”
“There’s a new off-road racetrack at the Xiling Ecological Park. It’s cool as fuck, and there’s a Track of Death that only opens in bad weather. The harder it rains, the more exciting it is. How does that saying go? ‘Let the storm rage harder’!”6
Hearing that, Fei Du practically felt mud splashing into his ears. “Are you trying to die?” he asked, his expression cold.
“Do you hear yourself? What an old-man thing to say. Where’s the liveliness a modern youth like you should possess? What do we have in life beyond eating and seeing things? Living on the edge for a bit of fun!” Zhang Donglai retorted confidently. “If you don’t want to drive, just come hang out. I’m telling you, this racetrack has a club, and they invited a little troupe of artists. They’ve got all kinds of beauties: gorgeous girls with straight black hair… Even artistic, intellectual types like violinists. They’re not the usual tacky bimbos; they’re right up your alley. It’s a rare opportunity, so get your ass over here! Don’t stay hung up on that old man at home—he’s got a girlfriend now anyway, right?”
“You’re well-informed,” Fei Du snorted. As a CEO who’d practically grown up in a greenhouse, he didn’t want to risk his life in the rain like an idiot. “Actually, I’m…”
That was when he glimpsed the reflection of his dark study in the window he leaned beside, and for some reason, remembered his disorienting dream…as well as the hands that had faintly smelled of tobacco.
More than a month had already passed since Tao Ran’s housewarming. Fei Du used to go in and harass the officer every few days, but now he wouldn’t even call him—firstly because he knew that Tao Ran liked someone, and couldn’t be bothered too often, and secondly because Fei Du felt completely unsettled every time he looked at that damn console.
Today was worse than usual; nightmares were haunting him.
“All right,” Fei Du said, changing his mind at the last minute. “Send me the address.”