Chapter Twenty-One: The Belt

Cui Yue dared not come any closer, afraid Yang Liu might lash out again and tear off his ear. He wondered if Yang Liu had lost her mind entirely.

Zhang Hu caught his breath, lit another cigarette, and addressed Yang Liu.
"Speak. Who are you?"

As soon as Yang Liu heard Zhang Hu’s question, she suddenly quieted down, her eyes vacant, refusing to utter a word.

"Not talking, are you? We'll see how long you can keep silent."

With that, Zhang Hu reached out his iron-like right hand and gripped Yang Liu’s right middle finger, pressing down hard.

As soon as he touched her, Yang Liu let out another wail, as if scalded by boiling water.

"Speak! Who are you?" Zhang Hu demanded, his grip tightening.

"I’ll talk, I’ll talk! Please, don’t kill me!" Yang Liu trembled violently, slowly raising her head as she spoke.

Cui Yue watched her suffering and felt deeply sympathetic. The young girl, delicate and sobbing quietly, evoked a sense of pity in everyone who saw her.

"My name is Feng Lili. I’m from Hebi, Henan Province, born in 1962," Yang Liu sobbed softly.

"How did you die? How did you get here? Speak, now!" Zhang Hu’s hand did not slacken as he pressed for answers.

"Ow, stop squeezing, please! I’ll tell you. I fell from the school rooftop and died by accident. I don’t know how I got here. I just remember drifting, drifting for who knows how long, and then I saw this girl and entered her body."

Cui Yue was dumbfounded, his whole body tingling. To hear a living person confess to her own death and recount events utterly unconnected to her—this was too much to comprehend. He’d only ever heard rumors of ghosts and spirits, but now it was happening right before him, and he couldn’t accept it. The sheer impact upended everything he believed, sending chills down his spine.

Zhang Hu, hearing his suspicions confirmed—a wandering spirit possessing Yang Liu’s body—spoke sternly.
"If that’s the case, you’d better leave her now. Will you come back again?"

Unexpectedly, Yang Liu did not answer, only struggled harder against the ropes. Zhang Hu tightened his grip, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent.

Zhang Hu took a deep breath, unbuckled the old army belt he’d kept since his days in the service, and lashed Yang Liu with it several times.

"Stop! Please, stop!" Yang Liu’s face contorted in agony, her screams piercing as though suffering immense pain.

"I won’t leave! I need to find someone," she wailed.

"Won’t leave, eh?" Zhang Hu raised his belt and beat her again. Yang Liu convulsed in pain, foaming at the mouth.

"Will you leave? Will you come back?"

"I’ll go! I’ll go! I swear I won’t return. Please, stop! I beg you!" Yang Liu’s face was ashen, her hair disheveled, crying out in misery. The scene was so pitiful that Cui Yue’s heart ached, thinking even a ghost might have its own sorrows and no real malice. He wanted to urge Zhang Hu to stop.

"Go on, then. Don’t ever return. As long as you leave, there’ll be no more beating," Cui Yue said.

"Yes, yes, I understand. Just have him let go, and I’ll leave right now," Yang Liu whimpered pitifully.

Hearing her give in, Zhang Hu finally stopped, fixing her with a stern glare as if to say that if she lingered, the belt would fall again.

"Cui Yue, go open the window halfway!" Without hesitation, Cui Yue strode to the window and did as Zhang Hu instructed.

Only then did Zhang Hu release Yang Liu’s finger. Yang Liu suddenly lifted her head, her black eyes brimming with hate as she glared fiercely at Zhang Hu.

With a sudden gasp, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in a faint. Cui Yue felt a chill sweep past his ear, his back prickling with cold. Just then, the freshly opened window rattled and banged as if buffeted by a violent wind. After a long moment, everything fell silent again.

Zhang Hu looked around, exhaled in relief, and said to Cui Yue, "It’s over. She’s gone."

Cui Yue wiped the cold sweat from his brow and inspected the room. Finding nothing unusual, he finally relaxed.

The two men hurried to untie Yang Liu and propped her up, calling,
"Wake up, Yang Liu, are you all right? Wake up!"

They shook her gently, but she remained unconscious, her eyes shut tight.

"Damn it, must be the spirit stayed too long and drained her energy—she hasn’t come to yet. Cui Yue, quickly get the incense ash from the bowl under the bed and rub it on her face," Zhang Hu urged.

Cui Yue quickly reached under the bed, grabbed a handful of ash, and smeared it across Yang Liu’s delicate face, turning her into a little tabby cat.

"You fool! I said incense ash, not cigarette ash! What use is that?" Zhang Hu looked at Yang Liu’s face in exasperation.

Only then did Cui Yue realize, in his haste, he’d grabbed Zhang Hu’s ashtray and mistaken the cigarette ash for incense ash.

He hurried to correct his mistake, finally finding the right bowl. Under Zhang Hu’s guidance, he dabbed the incense ash on Yang Liu’s forehead and above her lips. Once finished, Zhang Hu fetched a bottle of strong baijiu from the cupboard, took a long swig, and sprayed it onto Yang Liu’s face.

Strangely enough, as soon as the liquor mixed with the incense ash, Yang Liu regained consciousness. She seemed completely drained, her face ghostly pale, dark circles under her eyes. Yet, aside from some bruises on her arms, there were no other marks, not even from the savage beating with the belt.

Yang Liu coughed weakly, her mind clearing, though she was still feeble.
"Where am I?" she asked.

Seeing her awake at last, Cui Yue was about to answer when Zhang Hu quickly cut in.

"Oh, Yang girl, have you forgotten how you got here? You suddenly collapsed at the factory gate. Xiao Cui and I brought you to the security office to rest, and you finally woke up."

As Zhang Hu spoke, he shot Cui Yue a look, warning him not to let anything slip.

Cui Yue, still puzzled, had no choice but to go along.
"Yes, you fainted just inside the factory gate. Luckily we found you right away, or things could’ve been much worse."

"Really? Uncle Zhang, thank you both. I don’t know what happened—my head hurts terribly."

Zhang Hu nodded to himself and asked,
"Yang girl, do you remember how you fell?"

"No, Uncle Zhang, I don’t. My mind is blank. I just remember leaving home, walking, and then nothing at all."