Volume One: The Field of Eight Coffins Chapter 23: The Ghost on Tiptoe

At that moment, my third uncle, I, and Liang Yue, who had rushed up behind us, all pointed our flashlights at the person who had just jumped. The beams interwove, illuminating his face all at once.

Only then did I realize that the man was standing with his back to us on the low parapet, but there was a face visible on the back of his head. In other words, his head had been twisted a full one hundred and eighty degrees, facing us in a grotesque manner.

This horrifying scene happened too quickly for us to react before his body plummeted from the rooftop.

My third uncle, who was in the lead, stopped abruptly, staring in disbelief as the strange figure disappeared over the edge. I hurried over, panting, and asked, "Uncle, did you… did you see that man's face…?"

His expression grave, my uncle nodded without a word.

By then, Liang Yue had caught up, looking even worse than I did—her face was ghostly pale and cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

I snorted, "I told you not to come, but you just had to. Scared now, aren’t you?"

Liang Yue waved her hand dismissively. "No, it’s not that. I… I know that man… but he…"

Uncle turned to her. "Who was it?"

"He’s one of the shop owners in this mall, a distributor for a major sports brand. His name is Chen Wanli, but he… but he…"

I pressed, "What is it? You’re so frightened you can’t even finish a sentence?"

She shot me a glare before continuing, "But he died last month... He jumped off this very building."

"What?" My uncle and I were both startled, staring at her in shock.

Liang Yue steadied herself, nodding with certainty. "Yes, I’m sure I’m not mistaken. That face—it was him. He’s dead. He jumped from this rooftop."

I pointed to the spot where the man had leapt. "Then what on earth is going on? Does someone jump twice for fun?"

She replied irritably, "How should I know? I should be asking you. Could it be that the one who just jumped wasn’t a person, but Chen Wanli’s…"

She couldn’t bring herself to say the word “ghost,” and for the first time, the always-fearless Liang Yue showed a trace of dread.

I turned to my uncle. "Someone’s jumped again. Should we call the police?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "A fall from this height without a sound? It’s probably not real…"

As he spoke, he fiddled with the compass in his hand. The needle was still spinning, not settling in any direction.

I leaned over. "Uncle, does this thing really work?"

He replied, "Of course. My master made it specially. I’ve used it countless times and it’s never failed. The presence of spirits can alter the magnetic field of a place. Based on that principle, the compass needle should point to where the spirits are most concentrated—the place with the heaviest yin energy."

"Then why has it been spinning all night?"

Uncle shook his head. "There are two possibilities. I’ve told you before, the red paint on the building’s exterior easily attracts wandering spirits. One possibility is that the place is now filled with ghosts…"

At that, both Liang Yue and I shivered, glancing around subconsciously.

When our eyes met, we both glared at each other and looked away.

Uncle continued, "The other possibility is that this compass only works on a flat plane. If the spirit is above or below us, it won’t work."

"But that doesn’t make sense, Uncle—when we were on the first floor, the needle was spinning, and now we’re on the top floor, and it’s still spinning."

Uncle interjected, "And in the elevator, I noticed the needle never stopped."

I muttered, "That’s odd. Could the spirits be above or below us?"

A spark lit in Uncle’s eyes. He quickly asked Liang Yue, "Assistant Liang, is there a basement here?"

She nodded. "Yes. It used to be a parking garage and storage rooms for some tenants. But after the incident, the basement was sealed off."

Uncle asked, "What did the incident have to do with the basement? Why seal it?"

After thinking for a moment, she replied, "After the accident, we called in a Taoist priest. He said the basement was full of malignant energy and had to be sealed, otherwise it would erupt and cause bigger trouble. Most of the storage rooms were already idle, business was slow, and there weren’t many cars, so we just closed off the basement."

This reminded me of the chill I’d felt underfoot while standing in the lobby earlier.

I quickly told my uncle, "When I was on the first floor, I felt a cold current coming up from below. I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t mention it."

He nodded, about to say something, when the flute music, which had just stopped, began again.

The sound was as mournful as before, plaintive and sorrowful, enough to move one to tears. It seemed to convey many emotions—homesickness, helplessness, longing for a lover, hope for family…

Even as a layman, I felt tears welling up just listening to the melody. Entranced, I tried to find the source of the music, which seemed to be coming from below the ground. I turned and walked toward the edge of the roof.

Suddenly, my uncle struck me hard on the head, making my ears ring and snapping me out of the trance. If not for him, who knows what might have happened…

Before I could gather my wits, I saw Liang Yue also walking toward the edge in silence. Her body moved stiffly, each foot stepping forward in turn.

What was even stranger was that she was walking on tiptoe—her heels lifted, only her toes touching the ground.

She moved slowly. Seeing something was wrong, my uncle dashed over and struck her acupoint at the top of her head.

The effect was immediate: her body jerked and her heels came down. She was less than two meters from the edge.

Liang Yue woke as if from a dream, staring blankly at my uncle.

She seemed like a completely different person and, just like me a moment ago, had no idea what had just happened.

I glanced at my uncle. He waved me off. "You were just like Assistant Liang a moment ago."

I pointed at Liang Yue’s feet. "Why was she walking on tiptoe?"

Uncle explained, "They say ghosts walk like that. Imagine two people standing close together—one person’s heels on top of the other’s feet. When they walk together, the front one appears to be tiptoeing."

"Wait, so just now, there was someone behind both me and Liang Yue… We were stepping on their feet as we walked?"

The thought chilled me—I had felt no one behind me. Could it have been a ghost? Was I being led, step by step, by a spirit?

Had the others who’d jumped met the same fate?

Liang Yue looked confused, so I explained what had happened to her. She listened in disbelief.

Uncle waved his hand. "Enough guessing. The flute hasn’t stopped. Let’s go to the basement."

At that moment, the flute music shifted, growing wild and powerful, like armies charging in silence or the mighty Yellow River in flood.

In any other place, I might have applauded in awe. But here, it only deepened my fear. The music was poisonous—if not for my uncle, both Liang Yue and I might have come to harm.

As I recounted what had happened to Liang Yue, she looked utterly shocked.

Uncle led us off the rooftop, saying as we went, "It seems the flute is the culprit."

Liang Yue said, "I’ve never heard of any connection between this place and a flute. Why would such an ominous sound appear out of nowhere? Could the one playing it be Old Xiao?"

The sound weighed heavily on all of us. We grew more suspicious by the moment; it seemed that, apart from us three, anyone could be playing that flute.

Uncle led the way with his flashlight, Liang Yue shuffling behind.

We descended from the rooftop and started down the stairs. On the eleventh floor, just before the elevator, I suddenly felt someone place a hand on my shoulder.

Liang Yue was behind me, so I smiled to myself and said softly, "What’s wrong, Assistant Liang? Finally scared?"

No response.

I went on, "Cat got your tongue? If you’re afraid, come walk in front of me. Your palm’s gone cold, you know?"

Just then, I saw Liang Yue come up on my right, giving me a disdainful look. "What are you mumbling about all by yourself?"

"I…" My heart leapt. She was on my right, both hands at her sides—so whose hand was on my shoulder?

I remembered my uncle had said the yang energy on my shoulder was weak—making it easy for spirits to take advantage.

A chill crawled up my back and goosebumps broke out all over.

I didn’t dare move too much; I just tilted my head slightly to the left, glancing out of the corner of my eye.

What I saw made my blood run cold—a pale, grayish hand rested on my shoulder. It couldn’t have belonged to a living person; there was no trace of blood in that skin.

Unable to contain my terror, I swatted the hand off with my right hand and cried out in horror.

"Ghost… ghost… ahhh…" My screams echoed down the corridor.

(End of chapter)