I stood rooted to the spot, face burning.
Clearly, my 21,000 yuan meant nothing to her—or perhaps today's shopping spree had far exceeded that amount. The truth revealed itself swiftly through the mall receipt trembling in my hand.
Forget the mountain of fruits and vegetables. Just the smartphone she chose for me—a jet-black iPhone 11 with 128GB storage—cost 6,000 yuan. The unassuming bedding set from Mercury Home Textiles? 2,300 yuan. Electric toothbrush: 1,200. Toothpaste: 160. Towels: 95.
I stared at the receipt's final tally, the numbers blurring as I sucked in a sharp breath. This woman… Did she bathe in gold-infused water? How on earth was I supposed to pay her back for this luxury arsenal?
Grumbling under my breath, I hauled the supplies up to my second-floor room.
The fresh groceries posed a bigger challenge—thankfully, Ling Xi's mansion boasted three kitchens, each equipped with its own refrigerator. After strategically organizing bok choy beneath frozen dumplings and wedging apples between cured meats, I managed to cram everything in with Tetris-like precision.
By 9 PM, I collapsed onto the living room sofa with my takeout feast: braised pork belly, kung pao chicken, stir-fried snow peas, and a steaming clay pot of pork rib soup. Having starved all day, I wolfed down the spread like a feral creature.
Ling Xi chose that precise moment to emerge for water. She froze mid-step, taking in my sauce-smeared face and the carnage of empty containers. "I'm leaving at eight tomorrow," she announced with feigned nonchalance, clutching her glass like a shield.
"Tag along if you need to activate your SIM card. Take a cab back." Her slippered foot nudged the shoe cabinet. "Key's in the Adidas box. Clean up your mess."
Before I could swallow my mouthful of rice, she'd retreated into her room with pointed indifference. I scowled at her door, bagged the leftovers, and fished out the silver key from its hiding spot beneath sneakers.
Upstairs, QQ notifications blinked urgently on my phone.
Meng Fan had spammed the chat: "Dude you dead??"
I jammed my earbuds in and hit voice call. The line connected with a beep. "Been waiting a fucking hour and a half here!"Meng Fan's voice crackled through the earbuds."Five more minutes and I'm passing out cold."
Slouching deeper into my chair, I smirked. "Bullshit. 'Passing out'? More like queuing up for your nightly gaming marathon."
Caught red-handed, Meng Fan's tone instantly flipped to playful banter. "Damn, Su Ning. Who else reads me like you do?"
"Save the sweet talk. Spill that creepy story from earlier."
A dramatic throat-clearing echoed through the headphones. When Meng Fan spoke again, his voice took on a storyteller's cadence: "You know I'm Jingdu born and bred. Only ended up in Jiangxia City as your classmate because my parents ran an aquaculture business there.
"Last year, our ancestral home got demolished in the urban renewal project. Dad blew the compensation money on a three-story villa. Mom supervised the renovation circus for three months straight—place was finally move-in ready by late November."
"Winter break rolls around. Dad insists we christen the new house for Chinese New Year. Said the property needed human energy to thrive, bring good fortune yada yada…"
"First night there, around midnight—" His breath hitched slightly. "I'm half-asleep when this… this sound tears through the dark. Like a dozen horses galloping through my room. Hooves slamming the floorboards, whinnies shredding the air. My skull was vibrating with it."
"Thought I was dreaming. Maybe parents left the TV on. Forced myself back to sleep like an idiot."
"But the second night, right at the same hour, those horse cries and hoofbeats came crashing back. Even wilder than before. Even more… soul-crushing."
Meng Fan's voice trembled through the headphones. "I couldn't take it anymore. Flipped on every damn light in the villa."
His voice spiked suddenly: "Guess what? The moment those bulbs lit up—poof!—the chaos stopped dead. And get this—my parents weren't even in the living room!"
Goosebumps prickled down my arms. "Where the hell were those sounds coming from then?"
A bitter laugh crackled in my ears. "Beats me. Another sleepless night. Didn't dare close my eyes till sunrise."
"When morning finally came, I confronted my parents. You know what they said?" His tone turned mocking. "'Stop gaming so much. You're seeing ghosts in the code.'"
"I went behind their backs to the property management. Asked if there were stables nearby—maybe some rich asshole keeping horses illegally in their villa."
I nodded. " These days with all the nouveau riche around here, it's not just horses—people keep monkeys or wolves as pets and call it normal." Meng Fan snorted. "Exactly!"
"I stormed back to property management, but they swore there weren't any stables near our compound. Refused to believe it. Spent the whole afternoon creeping around the villa district, checking every damn mansion through their wrought-iron gates." His voice turned hollow. "Not a single hoofprint. Not even horsehair on the hedges."
"Third night, I dragged my mattress to the living room. Figured open space meant safety." His breathing hitched over the headset. "Thought I'd outsmarted the curse."
"But then—" Meng Fan's whisper dropped to funeral-parlor levels. "You'll never guess what happened next."
"What?" My fingers dug into the armrest.
A wet swallow echoed through the audio."The entire room…it filled with white smoke. Thick like winter fog in Chongqing, but clammy. Reeked of wet ashes." Static distorted his next words. "The neighing started inside that cloud. Each hoofbeat—Jesus—it wasn't just noise. Felt like draft horses trampling my ribcage."
"Tried to reach the light switch. Wanted to scream for my parents. But then my vision started tunneling"
"When I woke up in ICU with an IV drip. Docs said I'd had a myocardial infarction at twenty-fucking-three."
"You believe this shit, Ning?" Meng Fan's voice crackled with indignation. "The guy who won the school's 1000-meter race getting a fucking myocardial infarction? This isn't some bad joke!"
"After leaving the hospital," he continued, the anger draining into exhaustion, "I told my parents everything about the villa. This time, they didn't argue. Let me move in with Grandma and Grandpa."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "Dad even hired a bunch of Taoist priests to chant scriptures and ward off evil spirits. Who knows if it worked—I'm never setting foot in that death trap again."
His voice thickened with lingering fear. "Still get nightmares every night—being trampled by ghost horses. You think I'd survive another week in that villa?"
"How's your health now?" I interjected.
Meng Fan yawned audibly, the sound crackling with bone-deep exhaustion. "My brain's running on dial-up these days—you know that crappy internet in the computer lab? Perpetual brain fog, man." He dragged a hand down his face. "When I say I need sleep, I mean sleep. Twelve hours barely keep me vertical."
"You're such a pig," I teased, then pivoted. "What about your parents? They're fine living there?"
"That's the creepiest part!" His pitch rose. "They feel nothing in that new house. All the weirdness targets me specifically."
A keyboard clattered as his tone lightened abruptly. "Hey, free tomorrow? New hot pot place on Nan Da Jie—my treat."
Remembering my errand to get a new SIM card downtown, I countered: "My turn to pay. Might need your class notes next semester." Even while on medical leave, detailed notes could give me an edge when repeating the school year.
"Consider it done," Meng Fan chirped, the earlier terror replaced by academic swagger. "I'll document every lecture like it's the imperial exam."