Old Tang saw me standing there frozen. He patted my shoulder lightly and said,"Brother? What's wrong? You're sweating bullets."
I steadied myself and told him everything that happened during tonight's run—the old man with the pipe, and that old lady who came back for her vegetable basket.
Old Tang listened, sat on the edge of the bed for a long time in silence, then finally waved me over and spoke in a low voice:
"Brother, if what you said is true, then this is trouble. One of those two—either the old man or the old woman—isn't human."
I sighed, grabbed the bottle of white liquor off the table, and took a long swig. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I slammed the bottle down and cursed,"That bastard Old Wu really screwed me over. What kind of cursed job did he stick me with? If I end up losing my life over this, I'll drag him down with me!"
Old Tang spat on the floor, "Bah! Don't talk nonsense like that. It's bad luck."
He snatched the bottle from my hand and gulped down a mouthful himself.
"Honestly, when I was younger and driving long routes, I ran into all kinds of crap—ghost walls, burial mounds, you name it. Nothing new to me!"
Then as if remembering something, he added,"Right—there's an old master I know, someone with real skills. I'll give you his address. You should go see him when you get the chance."
I frowned, remembering what Old Tang had told me on the phone earlier. I muttered, "Brother… this time, that master really exists, right? You're not pulling my leg again?"
Old Tang clicked his tongue, poured me a full glass, and shoved it into my hand. "Relax. This old man has real abilities. He can definitely help you."
I nodded. I've never been good with crowds—sure, I talk to coworkers, but most of the time I prefer to keep to myself. Old Tang was different though. Maybe it's because he's the same kind of loner as me. In this whole company, he was the only one I truly trusted.
The two of us kept drinking and chatting until dawn. By the time we finally passed out, it was almost five in the morning.
At ten, my obnoxious ringtone—the song The Most Dazzling Folk Style—dragged me out of my dreams. I croaked into the phone. It was my third aunt calling.
"Xiao Li, are you free today?"
My third aunt is the type of woman who would spend eighty cents out of her last dollar to help someone else. Ever since she found out I was still single, she treated me like her new charity project, setting me up on blind dates left and right. In the past few months alone, she'd already introduced me to seven or eight women. But she never told them the truth about my job ahead of time—just said I worked at a city company. Once they found out I was a bus driver, every single one of them walked away.
I was exhausted and in no mood. "What is it, Auntie? I'm sleeping. If it's nothing important, I'm hanging up."
"Don't you hang up!" she snapped. "Listen to me. I've found you a great girl this time. You'll definitely like her!"
I groaned and rolled over. "Auntie, I'm done. I'm fine being alone."
"You brat!" she yelled. "You're already past thirty, still not married. I'm embarrassed for you! This girl is wonderful, and she doesn't mind your job. I already arranged it—tonight at six. I'll send you the address."
Before I could protest, she hung up. A minute later, a message popped up:
'Meeting set. 6 p.m. at Story of Time.'
I nearly choked when I read it. Story of Time was one of the fanciest restaurants in the city. A meal for two there could easily cost over a thousand yuan.
My aunt must've passed by and thought it looked nice. And now she'd thrown me right into the fire.
I sighed, gave up on sleeping, and dragged myself out of bed. After lunch I rushed to Old Wu's office—I'd already decided I wasn't driving the Route 13 night shift anymore. No way. After what happened last night, forget it.
But of course, Old Wu was out at a meeting in the city.
By then it was almost evening, and since I couldn't back out of the date, I went to a barber, polished up my shoes, and headed to the restaurant.
The Story of Time lived up to its reputation—doormen at the entrance, waitresses in sharp little suits. One of them showed me in, smiling knowingly like she could tell I was here for a blind date.
My heart sank as I fingered the 1500 yuan in my pocket. Would it be enough?
Then I saw her—by the window, long hair cascading down her back. And when she turned around… I was stunned. She was beautiful. Not just pretty, but striking—delicate features, bright eyes, graceful posture. My jaw almost hit the floor.
"Auntie actually pulled this off?" I thought, staring.
She blinked at me and asked softly, "Are you Li Yao?"
I nodded too hard, hurried forward—and promptly slipped off the chair and landed flat on the ground with a loud thud.
The entire restaurant turned to look. My face burned so hot I thought I'd burst into flames.
She was laughing so hard she could barely stand, but she came over and helped me up. And to my surprise, she didn't seem to mind at all. She kept smiling, kept talking as if nothing had happened.
Her name was Bai Fan, an HR manager at a private company in the city. But when she said she lived in Tangwazi Village—where I'd just driven last night—I almost dropped my fork.
We actually got along really well. When dinner ended, she looked at me and said,"Brother Li, I heard from Auntie you're driving the Route 13 night shift now. Since it's Friday, I was thinking of going home for the weekend. What time's your bus? I'll ride with you."
I froze. My first instinct was to say no. After last night, I'd sworn never to touch that route again.
But then I looked at her. Maybe she wanted to spend more time with me. Maybe this was my chance.
I clenched my teeth. To hell with it. If it's fate, let it come. For a girl like this, it's worth the risk.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm driving tonight. Eleven o'clock. I'll take you home."
Her smile lit up the room, dimples and all. I thought my bones were melting.
At eleven sharp, I drove out from the depot. Bai Fan sat near the front, chatting with me happily the whole way. For a while, I almost forgot last night's terror.
Then, halfway along the route, my stomach dropped. The same old man with the white towel on his head boarded the bus again.
My blood ran cold. But before I could panic, Bai Fan greeted him cheerfully:"Uncle Liu! Selling vegetables in the city again?"
He chuckled. "Ah, it's Bai Fan. Yeah, brought some produce to market." Then he looked at me and said,"Kid, mind if I smoke?"
Relief washed over me. Last night, the old woman swore the seat was empty—that I'd been talking to myself. But Bai Fan saw him too. He was real. Which meant the real ghost must've been… the old woman.
The rest of the trip passed without incident. At the paper mill terminal, Bai Fan gave me her phone number. My heart soared. The nightmare of last night almost felt worth it.
On the return leg, I kept expecting the old woman to appear again. But the road stayed clear, and I made it back to the depot in one piece.
I was exhausted but relieved. As I parked the bus, I saw Old Wu staggering drunkenly toward the office. My anger flared.
I stormed over, grabbed his collar, and snarled, "Old Wu, what the hell do you have against me? Why'd you put me on that cursed route?"
He flinched, reeking of alcohol. "Xiao Li? What's gotten into you? How did I harm you?"
"You know damn well!" I shouted. "Ten years ago, three drivers died on that line, each with a busload of passengers! And you still shoved me onto it. Why?"
Old Wu froze, staring at me wide-eyed. "How… how do you know about that? Nobody knows, except me."
I yanked him closer. "You think I'm stupid? Old Tang told me. You can't hide this forever!"
He looked genuinely baffled. "Old Tang? Which Tang? We don't have anyone named Tang in our depot."
My fury boiled over. "Don't play dumb with me. Tang Xiansheng! He's my closest friend here!"
The moment the name left my mouth, Old Wu slapped me hard across the face. My head spun.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I roared.
His face twisted in anger. He jabbed a finger at me and shouted,"Don't you dare say that name! Tang Xiansheng was the first driver of Route 13. He's been dead for ten years!"