Chapter 26: Xiaomei, Her Eyes

The first time we visited that infamous entertainment establishment, we all felt a sense of unease, though none of us could quite put our finger on what was wrong. Luo Feng asked me when we should go, and I told him, “Right now.” Luo Feng didn’t object. By the time we reached the narrow alley, night had already fallen deep, and even the convenience store at the corner had closed for the night.

The alley was shrouded in darkness. The women who used to squat outside during the day, smoking cigarettes and soliciting customers, had all vanished. Luo Feng and I pressed onward, but the darkness was so dense it seemed to swallow us whole. One of Luo Feng’s men remarked that there used to be lights here at night, but ever since the place had lost its usual crowds, the lights outside hadn’t turned on for days.

Without the streetlights, the alley was pitch black—so dark you could barely see your own hand in front of your face. The cold bit at us. Luo Feng’s subordinate whispered that he’d heard stories: some people who had left the alley recently had glimpsed something filthy, something unclean. Luo Feng just scoffed, saying, “If there really is something out here, let’s see it then.”

No sooner had he spoken than we heard a sudden disturbance. I spun around; on top of the wall bordering the alley, something was moving. Luo Feng’s man looked terrified—if not for our presence, he might have shrieked. Whatever it was, it was too far for us to see clearly.

Yet, by the shifting outline of the shadow, it looked as though several hands were reaching over the wall. Luo Feng spat in contempt. “I don’t buy it,” he muttered, striding toward the shadow. He soon reached it and grabbed hold.

“It’s just a tree branch,” Luo Feng called back, laughing.

We gathered around. The moon had emerged, faintly lighting our path. Sure enough, Luo Feng was gripping a branch. Upon closer inspection, we saw that a tree in the courtyard beyond the wall had stretched its branches over. I frowned and studied the layout.

The establishment was on the second floor, the tree grew right inside the wall, and on the other side must be a small yard. Luo Feng pulled his hand back, intending to lead us further inside, but stopped after only a few steps. He abruptly spun around, shock written across his face. “There’s no wind tonight—how did the branch move so much just now?”

I had already noticed, which was why I’d examined the layout beyond the wall.

“Someone’s inside, shaking the tree to play tricks,” I replied.

Luo Feng’s temper flared. Rolling up his sleeves, he strode inside, determined to find whoever was behind the mischief. We entered the stairwell, the dim corridor reeking of decay. I followed Luo Feng, leaving his man outside.

Luo Feng pinched his nose, asking why the stench was even worse than before. I nodded, feeling my way along the wall until I found the light switch and flicked it on. At last, the source of the rotten smell became clear: in the corner near the entrance, a heap of raw meat lay piled up, long since putrid.

There was quite a lot—at least ten or fifteen pounds.

Suppressing my nausea, I crouched down. Luo Feng, face pale, suddenly asked, “You don’t think this is human meat, do you?”

I examined the heap carefully. The meat had been chopped into unrecognizable pieces and was already decomposed; it was impossible to tell what animal it had come from. Only those connected to the establishment would be active in this alley. This corridor was the front of the place—surely they wouldn’t dump scraps here so carelessly.

We both sensed something was wrong. Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the stairwell. At first faint, they grew heavier, closer. Before either of us could turn, the footsteps stopped. I could feel someone standing just around the bend in the corridor.

I felt a pair of unseen eyes staring at us.

Luo Feng and I exchanged a glance. Almost simultaneously, we spun and rushed toward the bend. As we did, the footsteps sounded again—the hard click of leather soles on the floor. But when we reached the corner, there was only darkness; the footsteps ceased.

Luo Feng lowered his voice, “What’s going on? This place is off.”

I knew what he meant. It seemed the rumors about this establishment being haunted might have some truth. Still, neither of us bought into superstition. Someone was clearly playing tricks, and we were determined to drag them out. Yet Luo Feng was right: tonight, the place felt especially strange—an oppressive silence, as if everyone inside had vanished.

According to Luo Feng’s man, business had slowed but not died out entirely. Only the regulars had stopped coming, but the women would still find clients elsewhere. It wasn’t yet late enough for the whole street to be deserted, yet this place was as quiet as the grave.

It was unnerving. Luo Feng and I crept upstairs, Luo Feng calling out a few times. His voice echoed briefly, then faded into silence. I felt along the wall for another switch but found none.

In the end, Chen Fan and I had to use the faint blue glow from our cell phones to see. We reached the second floor, familiar territory. Yet unlike before, not a soul was present. The entrance opened into a plain living room—simple tables and chairs, a clock ticking softly on the wall.

Beyond the living room was a long corridor lined with doors to private rooms, where the women entertained clients. Luo Feng moved down the hall, opening each door. None were locked. Inside, he searched for a light switch but found none that worked.

It dawned on us: the place was utterly deserted.

When we opened the last door, however, a figure stood inside—motionless, staring straight ahead. Luo Feng startled instinctively. “Was that you making the footsteps just now?” he demanded.

I studied the figure. A window behind her allowed a sliver of moonlight inside. It was a young woman, hair long and straight down to her waist. It was too dark to see her face.

At first, she didn’t reply. Only when Luo Feng strode in did she speak, her voice thin and trembling with fear.

She asked what footsteps he was talking about. Luo Feng grabbed her hand, insisting she stop pretending. To our surprise, she began to sob.

Luo Feng sneered, “You’re the only one here. If you didn’t make those sounds, who did?”

Her sobbing intensified. She said she was only here to watch over the place.

I told Luo Feng to let her go, and he finally released her. Prodded for details, she explained that all power had gone out that evening. An electrician had worked on it all afternoon with no success. With no electricity, business was impossible. The woman in charge, seeing no point in staying, took the remaining few girls out to play mahjong, leaving her behind to keep watch.

She told us her name was Xiaomei.

Outside, the moonlight faded as the moon slipped behind the clouds, and we could barely see where Xiaomei was. She offered to light a candle for us. Soon, the flame illuminated her features: jet-black, straight hair, pale skin, and a delicate, gentle face.

“What’s with the rotten meat at the stairwell?” I asked.

Xiaomei shook her head. “Who knows? Someone dumped it there. Since the power’s out, we haven’t cleaned up.”

I pressed her again, but she insisted she didn’t know. She asked if we’d come for business, and I said yes. Xiaomei slipped off her jacket and sat on the bed silently. I glanced at Luo Feng, who understood at once, nodded, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

We both found Xiaomei’s behavior odd. I decided to probe, to learn more about this place. Before the door closed, Luo Feng gestured to indicate he’d look around outside.

Turning back, I saw Xiaomei sitting on the bed. When I approached, she took my hand—her movements awkward, nothing like the practiced ease of a professional. Sensing something was off, I teased, “Is this your first time doing this sort of work?”

She nodded. “Aren’t you going to undress?”

“Let’s talk a bit first,” I replied.

But to my surprise, Xiaomei stood up and pushed me onto the bed. As I watched, she began undressing. Soon she’d stripped off her top, leaving only her bra. I sat up, but Xiaomei pushed me back down and climbed on top, laughing, “What’s so fun about talking?”

Her laughter was like the chime of a bell, utterly at odds with her earlier awkwardness. My suspicion deepened. Determined to test her, I gave a wicked grin, flipped her beneath me, and said, “Then let’s play something else.”

Sure enough, her expression changed.

But just then, I heard a noise.

Glancing aside, I saw a thin crack at the bottom of the door—where the candlelight bled through. And outside, pressed to the gap, was an eye.