The Serial Short Story Project: “Ghosted” by Xie Shi Min

“Who are you? Where is my girlfriend?!” Jiajun demanded.

The little boy in front of him shook his head.

“You cannot see her,” he mocked, in a singsong voice, before becoming serious again. “It is against divine law for the living to pursue the dead.”

“Who asked you for your opinion?” Jiajun snapped at him, annoyed.

“Well, you did. You asked me for an audience, remember?” The little boy grinned. He transformed, growing taller and taller, older and older. At last, he was a grown man with a bushy beard and a crown. Somehow, a throne adorned with dragons appeared and he sat on it. A desk appeared before him and awnings framed his seat. The little boy had transformed–no, wait–was, the Lord of the Dead. Jiajun staggered back.

“I’m surprised that you even made it this far.” Yan Luo Wang, the Lord of the Dead, remarked.

“You–” the sixteen-year-old sputtered, staggering back.

“Surprised? I take on many forms,” he said, his voice becoming raspy. The deity’s face became more and more wrinkled, with his beard growing grey. “Regardless of age, death comes to us all. This is something you must learn, Huang Jiajun.”

The teenaged boy’s jaw had dropped to the floor, literally. He was in a dream, after all, and in dreams, anything was possible.

“Welcome to the ten courts and eighteen levels of hell, Huang Jiajun. Except… you should not be here. Not yet. Few mortals come here when they are alive, and their requests usually amount to the same thing: bringing back a loved one. But it is not possible.”

Jiajun shook like a leaf, and his heart ricocheted in his ribcage. He could barely speak. But he wanted his girlfriend, Ruoying, back, and so, he had to stand his ground. After all, he had not emptied grains of rice repeatedly into an offering bin for nothing.

“So, Huang Jiajun, what makes you think you can have permission to venture into the Realm of Spirits just to retrieve some random soul?” Yan Luo Wang asked.

The teenager finally found his voice.

“I love her.”

The Lord of the Shadows laughed, his raspy voice giving way to a thunderous bass one, before transforming into a high pitched giggle. Jiajun’s fingers twitched, and he willed himself not to cover his ears.

“I–It’s not funny. I know Ruoying and I are destined to be together. When we were young, a fortune teller told us that a red string bound us together and that we would always end up together in every life we would have.”

“Oh? Let me have a look.”

The Lord of Souls, now looking like a young boy playing dress up in robes, snapped his fingers. An iPad appeared in front of him. Sticking his tongue out, he started swiping the screen.

“Which folder did I put her record in? I don’t even remember. Urgh…”

Now was his chance. The stupid Lord of the Dead was vulnerable. Jiajun could lunge for the iPad and yank it away from the King of Hell. Or he could wait patiently for him to find his beloved’s records.

“Did a hungry ghost eat up the data on this machine? Cowhead!” Just as Yan Luo Wang said that, Jiajun lunged towards him and snatched the iPad. Skidding across the table, he almost knocked into a dashing young man wearing long, flowing robes that exposed his rock hard abs. Jiajun looked up. The man’s horns indicated that he was Cowhead, a psychopomp of the Netherworld. Shocked, The King of Hell blinked. He raised an eyebrow at Jiajun and transformed into a grown man.

“You did not pass my test.”

The teenager staggered back. Although the King of Hell did not yell, this made Jiajun even more afraid.

“With this choice, you have doomed yourself. Even if you save your precious Ruoying, you have relinquished the right to reincarnate. Ever. When you die, you will experience a special kind of torture,” he said, grinning.

“Cowhead, supervise him. See if this pathetic excuse of a human can save his girlfriend.”

The handsome young man nodded. Jiajun noticed Cowhead’s chiselled biceps that threatened to burst from the robes. Would this… deity… help him or hurt him?

“But I am not without mercy. Use the iPad to your advantage. Cowhead, see to it that he doesn’t destroy the fabric of the Netherworld.”

The psychopomp nodded and they walked away from the reception area. Jiajun shuddered as he thought about that encounter. He did not want to see the Lord of the Dead ever again.

Both Cowhead and Jiajun walked. Red lanterns seemed to be embedded into rocky cliffs, with screaming, cursing and swearing echoing throughout the realm. At times, Jiajun thought he was walking through a labyrinth, as no matter where he turned, all paths seemed to be surrounded by the same mountains.

Suddenly, the cliffs shuddered and groaned, just like their inhabitants. The teenager felt a cold breeze as the rocks beneath his feet crumbled. Cowhead had to grab Jiajun’s arm to stop him from falling.

“What is going on?” the teenager screamed, but Cowhead shushed him.

“You have angered my boss, so he has made your life difficult. Stick closely to me. Now hand me the iPad.”

Jiajun handed the iPad to Cowhead and the psychopomp unlocked it.

A map appeared on the screen. It indicated the psychopomp’s presence with a red dot, while Jiajun’s presence was marked with a yellow one. According to the map, they should head to the House of Liars, where Ruoying should be. A white dot represented her soul, and it was receding. They had to hurry–and fast.

“Why is my beloved in the Hall of Liars? She’s never told a lie.”

“Are you sure? Everyone lies. Going there is part of everyone’s punishment. Ah. Here we are.”

They had joined a queue of souls.

“Why do I have to queue?” Jiajun whined. “I need to save my girlfriend!”

Some souls who heard Jiajun glared at him.

“There’s nothing I can do,” Cowhead said. “Even I have to obey the rules.”

The both of them waited until they were at the front of the line. A goth-looking teenage girl holding a whip sized them up and waved them through. Jiajun thought he saw a tail peeking out, but maybe it was his imagination.

The House of Liars… was a… waterpark? Greenery framed the landscape and each person was either wading down a lazy river or chillin’ out with a drink by the pool. In the distance were water slides, but what caught Jiajun’s eye was the waterfall.

The puzzled boy gave Cowhead a look.

“The water is a truth serum. When these people get talking, they will torture one another with the truth. After that, someone yanks out their tongues in another room.” Cowhead explained.

A scream from far away pierced the air. Jiajun’s face paled. He could not bear the thought of Ruoying’s tongue being plucked out.

“Are you still sure you want to go through all this trouble?” the psychopomp asked.
Jiajun nodded, suddenly determined again.

“I can’t live my life without her.”

“I see,” Cowhead said. “What makes her so special?”

Jiajun stopped for a moment. He blushed.

“She was… kind. In Primary One, when my classmates were mean to me, she was the one who stopped them from teasing me. Do you know how rare it is for me to find kindness? I swore that she would be mine after that.”

Suddenly, the iPad made a sound. Ruoying’s icon had dropped off the map!

That wasn’t all. Jiajun felt something behind him. He turned to look, and was face to face with the goth-looking teenager.

“Mmm… I haven’t tasted a teenage boy for a very long time,” she whispered into his ear. Jiajun blinked and she had transformed into a nine-tailed fox spirit!

“Don’t mind if I do,” she purred, licking her lips.

“Don’t eat me! I–uh… haven’t grown yet!” Jiajun protested, backing away from the fox spirit. Some of her long, nine tails caressed his back, and he could not help but inhale the intoxicating scent of her perfume.

“Like I’d believe that,” she grinned, moving closer towards him. Sweat trickled down Jiajun’s brow. He tried to wriggle free from the fox’s tails, but couldn’t.

“I have to save my girlfriend!” he said, just as Cowhead growled, “Leave him alone!” The psychopomp took his eyes away from the iPad. “Jingyi, you know better than to harass any human I escort.”

The fox spirit stopped what she was doing.

“Wait… you are Huang Jiajun?”

He nodded.

“You’re Ruoying’s boyfriend?” she said, trying to hide a scoff. “She said to tell you to forget her. Go live, and all that.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Cowhead said.

“But even the iPad can’t detect where she is, right?” Jingyi said. “You know what this means…”

Cowhead’s face paled.

“Not the seventeenth level,” he whimpered, “anything but that.”

“It’s time to come out of denial, Cowhead,” she almost sang. “You know what happens once a soul drops off the map.”

“Can you help me, then?” Jiajun asked. “Please? I just need to give this relationship another shot.”

“Are you out of your mind? You don’t ask a fox spirit for favours,” Cowhead scolded.

To Jingyi, he said, “I’ll take it from here.” The psychopomp gestured to Jiajun to go, and they walked through the waterpark. They passed the lazy river, the slides, and headed towards the doors that were labelled, “Maintenance Area”. After they pushed the doors, they saw an elevator.

According to Cowhead, they had to take it all the way down to the seventeenth level of hell, where everyone’s minds would be tortured. No exceptions. If Cowhead had been afraid, then the torture ahead was unfathomable. Jiajun gulped.

Taking a deep breath, Cowhead straightened himself and pressed the button. As soon as the elevator arrived, he and Jiajun entered. Along the way down, many gods entered and exited. Guan Yu squeezed in with the both of them, and Chang Er’s rabbit hopped in. At the next level, the other two psychopomps, the White and Black Guards of Impermanence entered, as well as Princess Iron Fan and the Bull Demon King.

Finally, both Jiajun and Cowhead alighted at the seventeenth level of hell. They stood on a sheet of ice and a thick layer of fog hurtled towards them. Quickly, Cowhead tied a red string to Jiajun’s right wrist and linked it to his left.

The mortal looked at Cowhead, confused.

“The red string isn’t only used to bind two people together. In this case, it is a reminder that what we are about to see is an illusion. Tug on it to set yourself free,” he instructed.

Jiajun nodded.

As soon as the fog rolled in, the scenery changed and Ruoying appeared.

“You’re not listening!” she screamed at him, throwing her shopping bags to the ground. Everyone stared at the couple in shock. The sun beat down on everyone outside Paragon. Wait. Jiajun was dreaming of what had happened in the past. He knew this because he had had this dream many times.

“But Ruoying, I–” Jiajun began.

“It’s always about you and what you want, isn’t it?” she yelled. “Well, I’ve had it.”

Ruoying stomped towards the road. She didn’t even wait for the traffic light to turn green.

“Ruoying!”

Jiajun raced towards her but he was too late. A bright red car rammed into his girlfriend and she fell flat onto the gravel. Jiajun was too shocked to move. When he recovered, he ran towards her, screaming.

“Ruoying? Ruoying! Please, wake up!” Some passers-by were already calling the police. The teenager knelt beside the body, not knowing what to do.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… Stay with me…”

This scenario replayed over and over, with Jiajun being unable to stop the car accident from happening. Each time he found himself arguing with Ruoying, he felt a little bit of his memory slip away. He was supposed to remember something. But what, exactly? His brain was foggy and sometimes, beneath the heat of the sun and in the heat of the argument, he felt cold.

Jiajun looked at his right wrist. In place of the watch that he usually wore was a red string.

“Tug on it to set yourself free,” a voice said. Who had said that? Somehow, his gut told him that he should follow this instruction, and he tugged on the red string.

As he did so, the scene faded. He was no longer reliving his biggest regret but standing in a cold blizzard. His teeth chattered. Nearby, Cowhead was standing still, and tears were streaming down his face.

Jiajun stared at Cowhead. Normally, he would have grabbed the iPad and ran, but he felt like he owed his guide something. He tugged on the red string, and Cowhead blinked.

“Where–oh, it’s you,” he said, looking at Jiajun. The psychopomp wiped the tears from his face.

“I will remember this,” he said. The teenager nodded and gestured to the icy landscape.

“Where do you think Ruoying could be?”

Cowhead glanced at the iPad. It was able to detect her again! Looking at the map, Cowhead realised that they had to trek through the snowstorm.

“We cannot go on foot,” Cowhead said, and transformed into an ox. “Get on,” he instructed. Jiajun clambered onto his guide’s back and they journeyed across the frozen landscape.

Soon, Jiajun heard a voice, and it sounded familiar. Was it Ruoying? She had always loved singing. He also saw bright pink and blue lights ahead, which were attached to this grey, boxy building. It said: Meng Po’s bar.

Cowhead transformed back into human form and Jiajun shoved the door open. They entered and warm air soothed them.

Ruoying was on stage. She looked like a glamorous singer. Her hair was curled and her eyes glittered with make-up. On her left wrist was a red bracelet. She was singing a song about forgetting. All of the souls stared at her, mesmerised. Some of them had stopped their card games to listen to her.

Jiajun watched with his mouth agape while Cowhead raised an eyebrow. They waited until the performance was over and sneaked backstage, where the dressing rooms were.

“I see we have company. Cowhead. You’ve brought a stupid mortal boy to take his girlfriend back.”

The duo saw an attractive young woman–or man?–in a fedora. Jiajun studied their face. It was a mix of delicate and hard features.

“Meng Po, it’s OK,” a honeyed voice said. “I’ll take it from here.”

It was Ruoying.

“Ruoying! I’ve missed you!”

He tried to hug her, but she shrank back.

“We need to get you home.”

The beautiful girl sighed and shook her head.

“You never listen.”

Jiajun blinked.

“What kind of entitled person thinks he can cheat death?” she said. Meng Po gestured to her as if to ask if they could chase Ruoying’s ex away, but the singer shook her head.

“You would do the same for me!” Jiajun protested.

“No.”

Jiajun’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“But I had to come. Because of our last fight.”

“It is because of that that you have to let me go,” she said.

Cowhead wiped a tear from his eye and Meng Po handed him a tissue. They asked Cowhead for the iPad and he gave it to them.

“But remember what the fortune teller said? That we were bound by a red string? That we would be together forever?”

Ruoying nodded, untying the bracelet on her left arm.

“I used to believe that, but not anymore.”

She held it out for her ex-boyfriend to take it, but he refused.

“What do you mean? We would go the same school, take over my family’s business, have kids–”

Ruoying folded her arms. Jiajun realised what he was doing and stopped.

“Have you ever thought about what I wanted?”

Jiajun was silent.

“No! I am so much more. I wanted to sing, Jiajun, but you insisted we join NCC. You chose for me, and I resented you for it.”

“But I love you.”

“I did too, but I wasn’t happy.”

“Does that mean you’re not coming with me?”

She placed the red bracelet in his hands.

“Loving someone isn’t about clipping their wings. But I’ll remember what we had.”

Jiajun started to cry. Maybe he could fix this relationship. Maybe in his next life–but the realisation that the Lord of the Dead had taken his right to reincarnate finally hit him. There was no way out.

“I can’t let you do this. I sacrificed all of my lives for this. There has to be another way.”

Meng Po stepped in.

“There is,” they said, swiping through the iPad. “In your short time here, you have shown me that you are willing to change.”

Cowhead nodded.

“You could have asked the fox spirit to eat Cowhead, but you didn’t. On the seventeenth level, you made choice to save Cowhead and you stuck by him. That alone shows that you can be redeemed. But that is not enough. You have to live your life, Jiajun,” Meng Po said, handing him a glass of apple juice. “Learn your lesson. And maybe, when you come back here, Yan Luo Wang will give you a second chance.”

Jiajun looked at the glass in his hands. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t force Ruoying to be with him, but he had no choice. His shoulders slumped. Cowhead patted him on the back.

“Come on. You still have a life to live.”

The last thing Jiajun remembered was drinking the juice.

*

Somewhere in Singapore, a heartbroken, sixteen-year-old boy woke up. In his hands were two red bracelets. A wave of sadness washed over him, but he was at peace.

Huang Jiajun got up.

He had to live his life, after all.