Chapter 47: The Service Station

“We’ve got a clear understanding of the situation now. Please come with me to make a statement,” the square-jawed policeman said to Mu Yu, his tone formal and precise.

Although they had apprehended a wanted criminal, as per standard procedure, everyone present needed to go to the police station. The group trip was clearly ruined. Ma Jin, dissatisfied, cast a lingering look toward Luan Meng. He had planned to confess his feelings during this excursion—who knew how long he’d have to wait for another chance now? Still, Ma Jin had no intention of relying on his family background; those with the strongest connections understood best the power of the state. Those who shouted “my father is Li Gang” at the first sign of trouble were not privileged scions, but rather the cause of their fathers’ distress.

“Could you come over for a moment?” the officer requested.

Mu Yu frowned. This whole process would likely take another day. Given the current circumstances, who knew what might happen?

“Yes? What is it?” The policeman frowned, suspecting he was dealing with another person trying to pull strings, but he didn’t refuse and followed Mu Yu a short distance away.

“Ma, what do you think he’s doing?” Ma Jin’s sidekick sidled up, glancing slyly in Mu Yu’s direction.

“Hmph, probably thinks his connections will keep him out of the police station,” Ma Jin remarked loudly, making sure those nearby—including Luan Meng—could hear. Though he thought he was hiding his feelings well, his thinly veiled hostility was obvious to everyone around. Did he really think being able to fight was useful?

Ma Jin brooded, hoping to see Mu Yu publicly reprimanded and hauled away in disgrace. Luan Meng also frowned, but her disapproval was for Ma Jin’s attitude rather than Mu Yu. Even if Mu Yu had done something wrong, he had just saved a busload of people—how could anyone take pleasure in his misfortune?

“Wow, Ma Jin, are you jealous? He just saved us, after all. How can you talk like that?” Wu Tiantian, always blunt, spoke up. If not for Mu Yu’s intervention, she’d likely be on her way to the crematorium now, and she stared at Ma Jin without the slightest embarrassment.

“How could I be… I just…” Ma Jin faltered, at a loss for words. The strange looks and whispered comments from classmates left him struggling even to speak. He was used to things going his way—he’d never faced such a scene before.

“Hey, Luan Meng, why does that officer suddenly look so formal?” Wu Tiantian tugged on Luan Meng’s sleeve, having noticed something no one else had.

“We’re sorry for disturbing you. Would you like us to arrange a car for you?” The officer handed back Mu Yu’s credentials. Mu Yu shook his head.

“No need, just drop me off at the next service area. I’ll make my own arrangements from there.”

“Yes, sir!” The officer gestured to his colleagues, handed off his duties, and personally drove Mu Yu away.

Ma Jin watched, slack-jawed, as the officers loaded Mu Yu’s luggage into the police car. What kind of status must he have…?

Whatever the others thought, it had nothing to do with Mu Yu. They were just passersby—unlikely ever to cross paths again. What concerned Mu Yu more was the recurring confusion in his own memory. After this farce, Mu Yu arrived at the service station even later than usual. Only a few trucks sat dormant in the lot; the only light shone from the main building.

Waving to the departing police car, Mu Yu picked up his suitcase and entered the service station. Built over a decade ago, the facility was showing its age. It had originally been constructed for truck drivers, not travelers. This route was a vital logistics corridor, and in peak season the station was packed—drivers who couldn’t get a room had to sleep in their trucks.

But tonight, the place was especially deserted. Mu Yu pushed open the door, the iron scraping against the floor with a sharp screech. How distinctive—a doorbell wasn’t needed.

This wasn’t his first stay here, but the usual uncle at the front desk was absent; instead, a young man stood there, yawning.

“Room for the night, sixty-eight a night, one hundred deposit, check out before eight in the morning.” The young man was surprised to see a customer so late, but recited the rates in a rote tone. Customer service? Out here in the middle of nowhere, this was the only option—take it or feed the mosquitoes.

Mu Yu shrugged, unconcerned. “One night. Where’s Uncle Song? He’s not here today?”

The young man pulled out a grimy payment code from under the counter. “He retired. Hasn’t been back in a while.”

“Retired?” Mu Yu was puzzled. Uncle Song was only in his fifties and tough as an ox—retired already?

“Yeah, I heard he got sick. Didn’t last long after that.” The young man, bored, lowered his voice conspiratorially. “But rumor is, he wasn’t sick—he died of fright. They say there’s something unclean in this service station.”

“Really?” Mu Yu was skeptical. To his senses, the building felt chilly at worst—no trace of anything supernatural. And as for ghosts…

He instinctively glanced at his abdomen. Xiao Bai usually stayed quietly inside him, only occasionally peeking out. But there was no denying that she was a far scarier creature than any ghost.

“You don’t believe me?” The young man was agitated. He had told this story many times; most people were at least a little spooked, if not outright terrified. Mu Yu, though, looked as calm as if he were hearing a bedtime story.

“I’m telling you, the third floor of this building is definitely strange. Last time I went to the bathroom at night, I heard marbles bouncing around in there. Couldn’t sleep all night!”

“That spooky?” Mu Yu glanced at the young man’s uneasy face and felt slightly swayed. “So why are you still working here?”

“Well, I need the money,” the young man scratched his head. “Where else can I find an easy job like this with my qualifications and such high pay? Even if there are ghosts, I have to keep working.”

“Here you go, room 2301. Here’s your key. Just remember—don’t go to the third floor at night.”

“Alright.” Mu Yu nodded, picked up his suitcase, and headed upstairs. Ghosts or not, the place was certainly rundown. Not a single light shone on the stairs, but Mu Yu’s night vision was keen, so he didn’t bother turning on his phone’s flashlight as he climbed.

The wooden stairs, blackened with greasy stains, creaked incessantly beneath his feet, like a battered instrument emitting a jarring melody. No wonder the young man at the front desk was so convinced the place was haunted. Even if it wasn’t, the atmosphere alone was enough to make someone ill.

“Sorry!” As Mu Yu turned a corner, a man in a blue uniform hurried downstairs, nearly colliding with him. The man looked fierce and burly as a bear—clearly a laborer.

“No problem.” Before Mu Yu could finish, the man, clearly in a rush, dashed away by the weak light of his phone.

What could be so urgent in the middle of the night? Mu Yu brushed at the oil stain on his clothes from dodging the man, feeling a bit annoyed. As the man’s footsteps faded, the station fell silent once more.

“2301?” Mu Yu climbed two flights and stared at the battered room number. The digits were so worn it was a wonder no one had replaced them.

“Not even locked?” Mu Yu tried to insert the key, but with a slight push, the door swung open.

“What service…” Shaking his head, Mu Yu dragged his suitcase into the room.

A sixty-eight-yuan room wasn’t going to be luxurious. The narrow corridor was barely wide enough to turn around in. Still, the room was decently equipped; there was a bathroom, and the sheets looked freshly changed. Apart from patches of water-damaged stains on the walls, it was acceptable.

After a quick wash, Mu Yu lay on the bed scrolling through his phone.

“I bet you’re lying on your side looking at your phone right now—maybe even plugged in the charger!”
“Amazing!”
“Master, master, can you read my fortune? I’ve been single for thirty years—my hands are getting calluses!”

Seeing the endless chatter in the group chat, Mu Yu couldn’t help but chuckle and roll over.

A face peeked out from his shirt front, gazing curiously at the little screen, seemingly puzzled by what made Mu Yu laugh like a fool.

“This is a phone. Xiao Bai, can you read?” Mu Yu was used to Xiao Bai poking her head out whenever she saw something novel, though he’d been startled plenty at first. But over time… it wasn’t so bad.

Xiao Bai shook her head, her ghastly face tilting up to meet Mu Yu’s eyes, curiosity written all over her features.

“Well then, let’s watch a TV show instead.” Mu Yu figured there was no point scrolling through posts alone, so he opened a streaming app.

“Let’s skip the pink hairdryer drama—you probably wouldn’t understand it anyway. An idol romance about esports? What on earth, the rating’s terrible. This one looks good—‘The Emperor’s Woman.’”

After much deliberation, Mu Yu picked a movie that looked promising. Throughout, Xiao Bai rested her head obediently on Mu Yu’s chest, watching intently.

He wasn’t sure of her gender, but suspected Xiao Bai leaned toward being female. Not wanting to assume, he tentatively played an episode.

Surprisingly, the plot was captivating, and Mu Yu soon found himself engrossed, resting his chin on Xiao Bai’s head. Her jet-black hair exuded a faint woody fragrance—unexpectedly soothing.

The screen’s shifting colors cast prismatic shadows over Xiao Bai’s face. She watched with rapt attention, oblivious to the fact that she’d become a living pillow.

When midnight came, Mu Yu grew drowsy and patted Xiao Bai’s hair. “Time to sleep, Xiao Bai.”

She obediently slipped back into his body.

Mu Yu wondered if it was just his imagination, but since Xiao Bai had entered him, she seemed less and less like a monster. This Xiao Bai—who could watch shows with him—was becoming distinct from the merciless creature who once dismembered the Shadow Clan.

“She’s actually… kind of cute,” Mu Yu thought, and drifted into a deep sleep.