His name was Song Lian, a security officer. Three years ago, while protecting an expert, he was stabbed. He never even made it to the emergency room and died in the hospital corridor.
Since then, his soul had remained in the hospital, unable to leave.
He wanted to go home—to return to his roots.
“Miss Xie.”
Ling Xiao walked into the ward from outside. “The discharge paperwork has been completed.”
He walked directly to the bedside, unaware that Song Lian was standing there. However, Song Lian had already moved aside before Ling Xiao approached, not daring to come into contact with him.
Ling Xiao possessed strong righteous energy and vigorous vitality; yin creatures would be burned by it.
Seeing that Xie Jinwen was still wearing her hospital gown, Ling Xiao looked surprised. He had deliberately returned later to give her time to change clothes.
Rubbing her forehead, Xie Jinwen said, “You blew up my house. Aside from myself, I have nothing left. If you can find the clothes I was wearing when I was admitted, I’d be very grateful.”
Those clothes had been dirty and torn, and they had already been discarded while she was in intensive care.
Embarrassed, Ling Xiao backed toward the door.
“I… I’ll go look for them.”
As soon as he left, Xie Jinwen turned her attention back to Song Lian, who had retreated to one side.
“Helping your soul return home isn’t difficult. The question is—why should I help you?”
Song Lian stammered for a long time but couldn’t come up with an answer.
He was just a ghost now. He had nothing to offer Xie Jinwen as payment.
Lowering his head, he said, “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
With that, he turned to leave.
Outside the ward stood a crowd of ghosts from the hospital—more than a dozen of them packed together.
Every one of them looked dejected.
They were all young faces.
Soldiers from this military district.
Soldiers who had protected their country in life, yet after death had found no peace.
Tragic and heartbreaking.
“Stop.”
“Let’s just consider this my good deed for the day.”
“Song Lian, organize them. Have everyone write down their requests.”
Xie Jinwen went to the nurses’ station and asked for several sheets of A4 paper and a ballpoint pen.
Returning to the ward, she placed a sheet of paper and a pen on the bedside cabinet so they could write.
Soldiers were disciplined and accustomed to following orders.
Led by Song Lian, they lined up in perfect military posture and took turns writing down their names and requests.
Meanwhile, Xie Jinwen sat on the other side of the bed and began folding paper figurines from the remaining sheets.
A nurse happened to pass by the doorway.
To her astonishment, she saw the pen floating in midair, moving across the paper as if an invisible hand were writing.
Her heart leaped into her throat.
A chill ran down her spine, and cold sweat broke out all over her body.
Xie Jinwen looked up and met the nurse’s terrified gaze.
She pressed a finger to her lips, signaling:
“Shh.”
The nurse quickly covered her mouth, nodding frantically.
Her legs went weak as she fled.
Xie Jinwen withdrew her gaze and continued folding paper.
After everyone had finished writing their requests, she had also completed a set of paper-money figurines. She lined them up neatly on the bed.
“Choose one and possess it yourselves.”
The ghosts hesitated briefly before each selecting a paper figure.
Once their spirits entered the figurines, their ghostly forms disappeared.
The already cramped ward instantly felt much more spacious.
Xie Jinwen gathered the paper figures into a stack and picked up the list of requests from the bedside cabinet.
Two-thirds of the requests were the same:
They wanted to go home and leave the place that had trapped them.
A smaller number were orphans. Their homes no longer existed.
Their bodies had not been buried in their hometowns but in a martyrs’ cemetery instead.
One request stood out from all the others:
Find my younger sister.
Among more than a dozen requests, only one asked for that.
Qin Huai.
Xie Jinwen pulled out Qin Huai’s paper figurine and began calculating with her fingers.
The answer came quickly.
When Qin Huai was young, his family had been extremely poor. Unable to support so many mouths, they had given away his younger sister, Zhaodi, to another family.
After growing up, Qin Huai had never stopped thinking about her.
But even until his death, he had never managed to find her.
The little paper figure of Qin Huai awkwardly moved its new body and said excitedly:
“Miss Daoist, I don’t need to go home. I only ask one thing—please help me find Zhaodi. I just want to know whether she’s living well.”
Xie Jinwen asked,
“And after you learn whether she’s doing well? What will you do then?”
Without hesitation, Qin Huai replied:
“I’ll reincarnate. Eighteen years later, I’ll be a good man again. I’ll still join the military and serve my country!”
Xie Jinwen fell silent for a moment before walking out of the ward.
The nurse had sprinted all the way back to the station.
She hurriedly stuffed the protective talisman from her drawer into her pocket, muttering prayers under her breath.
Another nurse—a plump woman—came out of the medication room and laughed.
“Well now, what’s wrong with our Xiaomei? Did you see a handsome guy?”
Zhao Meiyu was still shaken and didn’t respond.
The plump nurse continued talking.
“I’d heard people say that ace pilot Ling Xiao was unbelievably handsome. Seeing him today, wow, he really is handsome… Huh? Why aren’t you answering me? What’s wrong?”
Only then did she notice that Zhao Meiyu’s uniform was soaked with sweat and her face was deathly pale, as though she had seen a ghost.
The plump nurse quickly grabbed her hand, rubbing warmth back into her cold fingers.
“Xiaomei, this may be a hospital, and yes, people have died here. But don’t worry. Nothing strange has ever happened here. Don’t scare yourself.”
Finally calming down a little, Zhao Meiyu said with reddened eyes,
“The patient in Bed Three asked for paper and a pen earlier. Pens are always in short supply in our department, so I thought I’d collect it after she finished writing. But when I went over there, I saw that pen writing by itself on the bedside cabinet!”
The plump nurse felt goosebumps rise all over her body.
“How could a pen write by itself? Maybe the lighting was poor and you saw it wrong?”
“I…”
Zhao Meiyu didn’t dare think about it too deeply.
“M-Maybe.”
The plump nurse offered a few more words of comfort.
“Alright, stop frightening yourself. I’ll go check the wards. You’ll be okay staying here alone, right?”
Zhao Meiyu immediately followed her.
“I’ll come with you.”
The plump nurse smiled and said nothing, allowing her to tag along.
As the two walked into the corridor, Xie Jinwen arrived at the nurses’ station.
The moment Zhao Meiyu saw her, she remembered Xie Jinwen’s earlier shushing gesture and shivered again.
With a gentle smile, Xie Jinwen extended the ballpoint pen.
“Hello. I’m returning the pen.”
At the sight of the pen, Zhao Meiyu’s scalp tingled again. She didn’t dare take it.
The plump nurse reached for the pen instead.
“Miss Xie, have you finished your discharge procedures?”
“Yes.”
As she answered, Xie Jinwen curled her fingers slightly, preventing the nurse from taking it. She continued holding it out toward Zhao Meiyu.
“Nurse Zhao, don’t let this become a lingering fear in your heart. Take it yourself.”
The plump nurse looked between the two women.
“I’ll continue my rounds.”
She left.
Zhao Meiyu hesitated.
“Then… just put the pen on the table.”
Xie Jinwen didn’t move.
“Even if there are strange things in this world, this is a military hospital. The people treated here are mostly soldiers.”
“They protected the country and its people.”
“After death, would they harm others?”
“Are they scary?”
Zhao Meiyu felt as though she had been struck on the head, suddenly awakening from a dream.
She asked herself honestly:
Are they scary?
The answer was beyond doubt.
No, they were not scary at all.