Chapter 66: The Last Bus (Part 1)

Returning to the big city, Su Xiaodi’s first matter was to carry large and small bags back to find her grandmother and report her safety. Chen Jiu, meanwhile, went to pick up a commuter car.

Originally picking up a car had not been arranged high on this week’s to-do list, but she had discovered that every time she made some plans, there would always be extra business trips coming to disrupt them. So she arranged a commuter car early, making it convenient to go anywhere.

Having not returned for nearly a month, Chen Jiu settled the cats and dogs, then began doing some simple cleaning for the shop.

In the afternoon, several clients came for consultations, but none had any major matters. They only wanted Chen Jiu to calculate their marriage prospects or career futures. After hearing auspicious words, they paid and left. All very simple and easy work.

Chen Jiu recorded the accounts satisfactorily, praying for more of this kind of work to come.

Few big jobs, many small jobs. The spare time was just right for circulating energy to repair her depleted vital energy. Perfect.

After finishing work, Chen Jiu immersed herself back into gaming, having a wonderful time. Fang Lei still often came to team up with her. During matchmaking wait times, he would also tell her some fresh gossip.

“Sister, have you heard the recent secret rumors of Qiu City?” Fang Lei asked mysteriously.

Chen Jiu raised an eyebrow: “Qiu City secret rumors? Supernatural events?”

“Exactly! This is right up your alley, isn’t it? So you were the first person I thought of telling.” Fang Lei excitedly lowered his voice. Clearly the previous incident hadn’t left him any deep psychological shadow. The scars healed and he forgot the pain.

He deliberately described with a breathy voice: “At that time, there was a shop assistant who had just gotten off the night shift…”

At dawn, the last bus of Route 37 at X Station in Qiu City slowly pulled out from the platform.

There were only a few scattered passengers on the bus, mostly migrant workers returning from out of town, or locals who had just finished the night shift. Route 37’s route started from X Station, passed through the old city district, and ended at Qing Mountain Cemetery on the outskirts of the city. This stop name alone made many late-night passengers feel uneasy, but it won on cheap ticket prices and direct access to the outskirts, making it the most cost-effective choice for people living nearby.

That day was Friday. Business at the shop was slow, so the assistant finished her shift half an hour early and caught this last bus.

There were only four or five people in the carriage, scattered sitting in various places. No one spoke. It was very quiet.

The assistant was scrolling through short videos on her phone, then casually looked up and swept a glance.

In the first row sat a middle-aged man in work clothes, his head leaning against the window, seemingly dozing off. In the middle of the carriage was a couple, huddled together without any communication. In the last row sat an old man in a gray jacket, half his body hidden in shadows, his expression unclear.

Everything looked completely normal. But for some reason, the assistant felt an indescribable, inexplicable unease in her heart.

She turned down her phone volume, lowered her head, and continued scrolling through videos.

The vehicle stopped, and someone boarded at the second stop.

The assistant didn’t look up, using her peripheral vision to sweep a glance. It seemed to be a young woman, wearing a dress, with long hair draped over her shoulders, walking quietly with almost no sound.

When passing by her, the assistant smelled a faint fragrance.

The woman sat in the seat in front of her, her back perfectly straight, motionless.

The assistant finally became somewhat curious, slightly raising her head again to look. She discovered this woman’s hair was wet, as if just fished out of water, and a small puddle of water had already accumulated beneath her feet.

She immediately felt a chill down her back, working hard to calm herself, forcibly shifting her gaze toward the window.

Streetlights flew past rapidly. She gripped her phone tightly, closed her eyes, and decided to pretend she was asleep.

The entire carriage was too quiet. Quiet to the point of being hair-raising.

Something was wrong… no matter how quiet, it shouldn’t be so quiet that there was no engine rumbling, no mechanical sounds at all, right? This bus was practically gliding silently over the road surface.

The assistant abruptly opened her eyes and discovered the scenery outside the window had changed.

Streets, streetlights, shops had all bizarrely disappeared, replaced by a desolate expanse of grass and trees.

This was absolutely not the road to the outskirts!

She abruptly stood up, wanting to ask the driver what on earth was going on.

But the instant she rose, everyone in the carriage turned their heads, looking at her with expressionless faces, hollow eyes devoid of life, as if what they were looking at was not a living person, but a cold corpse.

The assistant’s entire body went rigid. She fell back into her seat. Everyone remained motionless, sitting in their original positions like sculptures.

She worked hard to swallow a mouthful of saliva, not screaming, trembling uncontrollably as she raised her phone, pressing the record button toward the front.

The frame showed empty space.

The assistant also didn’t know exactly how she got off the bus, or what specifically happened during the process. In any case, when she woke up the next day, she was already lying in her rental apartment, having unsurprisingly developed a high fever.

…

“This person also has a light Eight Characters, too many night shifts, ran into something dirty.” Chen Jiu simply reached a conclusion, asking: “How did you hear about these things? Do you know this person?”

Fang Lei: “This was a post on our school forum. The person seeking help is this assistant’s cousin. But everyone is treating it as a story, not many people taking it seriously. But I just feel it’s real. Why would someone make up this story for no reason? You can’t earn money writing on the school forum, right sister?”

Chen Jiu made a noncommittal scoffing sound. That was hard to say. These days what couldn’t be used to chase traffic and grab eyeballs? Leading the flow elsewhere was the whole point.

Fang Lei continued chattering: “I just can’t stand those people cursing the poster to continue having bad luck. I directly told the poster to come contact you when she doesn’t have class. This job is my treat for her!”

“…” Chen Jiu was shaken by his chivalrous loyalty: “Young master, aren’t we being a bit too eager to right wrongs wherever we see them? You want to treat this job too?”

Fang Lei said heroically: “Of course!”

Chen Jiu nodded: “Alright.”

Not earning money when there’s money to be earned is a turtle’s egg. If this girl’s matter isn’t settled, it counts as a failed job for Wanshi Studio.

Early the next morning, indeed a girl came to the shop looking for Chen Jiu. This girl was timid, wearing a set of faded leisure clothes, simply tied in a ponytail, looking quite shy.

“Um, I made an online appointment.” The girl said softly: “My name is Wang Siqi. Hello, boss.”

“Hello, don’t be nervous. Want some water?” Chen Jiu politely handed over a paper cup.

Wang Siqi grabbed her bag strap, thanked her, and holding the water cup said: “My sister is still running a fever. She’s been on IV drips for several days without getting better. People back home heard about it and also said she ran into evil. I don’t really believe in this, but after that post came out, many people commented saying Route 37 had strange incidents happening before, making my heart feel all hairy, so I wanted to come ask you…”

“Would it be convenient to take me to see your sister?” Chen Jiu asked.

Wang Siqi said: “Ah, of course!”

Getting to the assistant’s rental apartment in the old city district took quite some effort. Chen Jiu wasn’t familiar with the old city district’s roads and slightly took a detour.

Upon arriving at the destination, Wang Siqi used her key to open the door. Pushing it open and looking inside, her sister was still huddled under the quilt. The room had no lights on, the curtains were drawn tight, and the air had a faint smell of sweat.

“Sister?” Wang Siqi called out gently, getting no response. So she turned to quietly receive Chen Jiu: “My sister is Wang Zhen, boss. Why don’t you sit for a while?”

Chen Jiu made a sound of acknowledgment, saying no rush, then took out her tools from her bag.

Wang Siqi pulled the curtains open slightly, then turned around and was instantly startled. Wang Zhen was already awake, huddled under the quilt staring straight at her. Her two eyeballs had no life in them whatsoever, as if her soul had been hooked away by something. Her gaze was scattered, without focus.

“Sister?” She called out again.

Wang Zhen finally reacted, coughing softly a few times, asking: “Siqi? Who came?”

Afraid Wang Siqi would have to go through another round of explanations, Chen Jiu proactively stepped forward, simply and neatly made a self-introduction, then asked: “Would it be convenient to let me see that video on your phone?”

“Okay.” Wang Zhen weakly agreed, then directed Wang Siqi to turn on the lights, and indicated her phone was on the nightstand: “No screen lock, just go to the album and look. The first one is it.”

Chen Jiu did as instructed, pulling out the first video in the album.

The entire frame was gloomy and sinister, extremely cold. The background sound only had Wang Zhen’s trembling breathing. Apart from that, it was completely silent. The focal point was the driver’s cabin: there was no one inside, and the steering wheel was turning on its own, extremely bizarre.

Wang Siqi watched for a while and didn’t dare continue looking down. She turned to go boil hot water for Wang Zhen.

Chen Jiu frowned, watching it twice on her own, then asked: “When you got off the bus, was there a remaining card?”

“What?” Wang Zhen slightly recalled, immediately feeling a headache: “I, I don’t remember.”

Chen Jiu: “Where is the bus card?”

Wang Zhen looked toward the bag hanging on the wardrobe. Chen Jiu took out the bus card, placed it beneath her nose and gently sniffed, saying: “What you rode yesterday was probably not the real Route 37.”

“What do you mean?” Wang Zhen’s eyes suddenly widened. She was already scared enough. One sentence from Chen Jiu made her fear climb to another level.

Chen Jiu used her phone to open the bus app. The card balance hadn’t changed. The ride record was completely empty, with no boarding record and no alighting record.

Wang Zhen was dumbstruck, her breathing gradually becoming heavy, then she coughed violently. Wang Siqi didn’t know what had happened, hurrying over to support her and gently pat her back.

Chen Jiu stood up, pulled open the heavy curtains, and sunlight immediately flooded in entirely. Wang Zhen instantly squinted her eyes.

“Get more sun these next few days, and try not to go out.” Chen Jiu instructed: “I’ll go see what exactly is going on.”

Wang Siqi nodded repeatedly, grateful yet somewhat conflicted. She pursed her lips and was silent for a while, then carefully asked: “Thank you, boss. But I don’t know how your side charges fees?”

Regarding the matter of fees, Chen Jiu still didn’t have the thick skin to claim merit for herself. She clearly explained the entire process of Fang Lei browsing posts online and sponsoring the fees, and considerately provided Fang Lei’s contact information.