I unlatched the leather-bound suitcase, carefully arranging my folded garments in the rosewood wardrobe. Beneath layered cotton shirts lay an ivory envelope containing 20,000 yuan（approximately $2,900） in crisp bills - my father's parting gift. Beside it rested an Agricultural Bank of China card bearing a handwritten label: "From Su Tongyuan."
My elder sister's name, untouched by my lips for eleven winters since her departure. Though curious about the sum within, I resolved never to draw from it.
As I organized my possessions carefully, my mental inventory began.
First necessity: a mobile phone. Not merely for familial bonds, but survival itself.
Ling Xi's warning echoed - the malevolent haunting my veins demanded her spiritual intervention every third dawn. Without timely communication, my quest for karmic redemption would end in futility, leaving my corpse as empty as an unlit lantern before the ancestral altar.
Second essential: a driver's license. I'd originally planned to obtain this after entering university. Now circumstances forced me to accelerate the timeline. Without it, I'd remain trapped in this villa like a caged bird.
Third necessity: bedding. In the dead of winter, freezing to death wasn't part of my karmic redemption plan.
As for other daily essentials like toothpaste and toothbrush, I'd compiled a list to hand Ling Xi later.
Lying on the bare Simmons mattress, I tasted true solitude for the first time - a desolate helplessness that gnawed at my bones. Grandfather's death, my body haunted by malevolent spirits, exiled from home and education... How could slaughtering a single pig unravel my entire existence? Was this heaven's cruel jest, or proof that Su Ning's fate had always been written in bitter ink?
The more I pondered, the more injustice tightened its grip. Self-pity welled up, hot and unbidden. Tears silently traced their paths down my cheeks, salting the sterile mattress fabric with proof of human frailty.
"Have you been crying?" Ling Xi's figure appeared in the doorway, holding a plastic bag of snacks.
Her tone remained detached as she said, "Eat these if you're hungry. I ordered takeout for you."
"Ah? No, no—just got dust in my eyes." I clumsily scrambled to my feet, wiping my face with my sleeve and forcing a smile. "But didn't you say I should handle meals on my own?"
Ling Xi frowned slightly. "I'll provide when I'm home. When I'm away, you'll fend for yourself."
"No need to trouble yourself," I said gratefully. "I can cook—just give me ingredients."
"Really?" She fixed me with a skeptical look.
"Really," I nodded emphatically. "Can't compare to restaurant chefs, but I can manage home-style dishes."
She set the snacks by the doorway. "Fine. I'll have someone deliver groceries to stock the fridge—enough for a week."
"Also these." I handed her my prepared list. "About the driver's license…"
Ling Xi skimmed the items. "Tie Shan can take you to the driving school. We'll pull some strings to expedite it."
"Tie Shan? The buzzcut driver who picked us up from my home?"
"Right, Tie Shan is my personal chauffeur. He'll assist you temporarily." Ling Xi said with pragmatic generosity. "There are three cars in the garage. Choose one after getting your license—it'll make errands easier." She disappeared with my checklist, leaving me wandering the second floor's empty corridors.
Boredom gnawed at my bones. Booted up the dinosaur of a desktop, I logged into my QQ account—the same one created during a middle school computer class when phones were forbidden luxuries.
Friends list bloomed with handles like "CrazyBasketballFan1993" and "MoonlightSword7", digital tombstones marking friendships frozen at seventeen.
Memories of classroom pranks and lunch breaks flooded back, drawing another sigh from my lips. Would I ever shed these cursed spirits three years later?
The notification chime startled me—Meng Fan, my high school desk mate turned sworn friend, had sent premature New Year wishes. His panda avatar winked cheekily.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Finally typed:" Ran into some trouble. Have to take a leave from school."
" Wdym trouble? Scored detention for copying my math homework?"
Too lazy to type, I hit the voice call button and jammed my earbuds in. "Holy shit dude, don't freak me out like that!" Meng Fan's familiar rasp exploded through the speakers the moment the call connected. Slouching in my chair, I forced a laugh. "No joke. Had to suspend my studies."
"The hell you mean?" Panic sharpened his voice. "College entrance exams are next semester! You ditching the whole university dream?"
"Life-or-death situation. No choice." I picked at the desk's chipped veneer. "Look, this sounds insane, but…"
The line hissed with static before Meng Fan's tone turned grave. "Cancer?"
"Ningzi, we're fucking blood brothers! Spill it!"
"Um," I hesitated, my guard up. "Swear you won't breathe a word—I refuse to become gossip fodder in their midnight whispers."
"You think I'm that kind of snake?" His indignation crackled through the speakers. "Cross my heart—take this to the grave. Leak one word, let lightning strike me dead!"
With his oath still hanging in the digital ether, I unraveled everything—the malevolent spirits, Jingdu exile, the ten good deeds pilgrimage.
Silence.
Just as I checked for a disconnected signal, Meng Fan spoke with uncharacteristic solemnity: "Ningzi… I believe every damn word."
"Hmm." I hummed softly, tilting my head. "Weren't you the Science Boy who debunked ghost stories? Since when do you believe this stuff?"
Meng Fan clicked his tongue, the sound crackling through my earbuds. "Some things… you can't logic your way out of—"
His words cut off as his grandmother's voice carried through the line, scolding him about cold rice.
"Gotta bounce, Ningzi! Dinner's ready. Tonight—I'll tell you about the weird shit happening at myself. Makes your spirit problems look tame."
The call died abruptly. I yanked out my headphones, muttering, "Teasing bastard." Killed time with Minesweeper until Ling Xi's voice drifted upstairs at seven sharp.
The living room looked like a supermarket bombing site. Ling Xi rubbed her temples, gesturing at the chaos. "Your survival kit. Sort it yourself."
I surveyed the loot—apples bruising against cabbage heads, frozen fish stacked like silver ingots. Enough provisions to outlast a zombie apocalypse.
"Bedding and phone stuff's on the sofa," she added, already retreating toward her room. "Takeout's on the table. Phone card needs your ID verification."
Fumbling with the cash in my pocket—20,000 yuan from My father plus 1,000 in red envelope money (the last gift from Uncle before everything went sideways)—I swallowed the anxious knot in my chest. "How much… do I owe you?"
Ling Xi paused mid-stride. "Focus on staying alive. We'll settle debts after your tenth good deed."