Chapter 76: Rumors of Raising Ghosts

I stared at Charlie, and he seemed a little nervous, asking what I was looking at. Chen Fan leaned in and whispered to me that both Charlie and the actress Z were telling the truth. Last night, the crew had indeed decided on the spur of the moment to add two snow scenes because of the unexpected snowfall in the capital. One was shot late last night, the other scheduled for early this morning.

Chen Fan also told me that the crew had some complaints about Z, as she’d been distracted lately. Last night, everyone worked overtime to make the most of the snowy weather and film a good scene, but Z kept making mistakes. Even deep into the night, the scene still wasn’t finished. Finally, the crew had to give up and negotiated with Charlie, asking Z to do her best for today’s shoot. Unexpectedly, Z’s condition was even worse than the night before. It hadn’t been easy to get Z as the female lead, so naturally no one dared offend her. Besides, everyone in show business knew Charlie’s bad temper; few would cross him directly.

The crew told Chen Fan that Z was absent-minded, and Charlie was frustrated as well. Late last night, the crew asked both Charlie and Z to stay overnight at the film city, but Charlie was furious and refused. He was used to a life of comfort, and spending a whole day in the film city with nothing accomplished had already upset him. The conditions there were poor, and he’d objected from the start.

In the end, it was Z who apologized to the crew and offered to stay overnight, so as not to miss the early shoot. Only then did Charlie relent. The whole crew was unhappy with both Charlie and Z, but no one dared show it in front of them. When Chen Fan, in his capacity as a police officer, questioned them, the crew finally opened up and aired their grievances.

Chen Fan’s questioning was thorough. The crew had only secured a few rooms in the film city; Charlie and Z each took one. The rooms had terrible soundproofing. Staff crammed into the other rooms said they barely slept all night. I kept watching Charlie and Z; Z kept her head down, while Charlie grew impatient under my gaze. “Officer, what are you staring at? Say something!”

I smiled slightly. Just then, Z was called away to film again. I didn’t press the matter, letting her go and deciding to question her after the shoot. Charlie was surprised; the last time we’d met, we’d been quite forceful in demanding their cooperation.

Z stood and walked away without looking at me, heading toward the set. Chen Fan and I stood off to the side, while Charlie remained seated, sighing and watching Z’s stiff expression and movements.

Chen Fan asked why I’d suddenly stopped being in a hurry. I asked him what good hurrying would do. He curled his lip in response, and the child, who’d been with us since we entered the film city, remained very quiet.

I asked Chen Fan why the crew said they hadn’t slept well last night. He looked around, then told me in a hushed tone that they’d heard Z talking to herself. Because of the poor conditions and inadequate soundproofing, only staff usually stayed in the film city for a quick rest.

“When I asked earlier, everyone mentioned rumors that Z kept a spirit child. They’d thought it was just Charlie’s publicity stunt, but after hearing Z talking to herself last night, they were spooked,” Chen Fan said.

People said Z muttered to herself for a long time, but no one knew what she was saying—the words were muffled by the wall. No one dared disturb her. Later, they heard Charlie’s voice; it sounded like he’d gone into Z’s room.

After that, the mumbling stopped.

Finally, people managed to doze for a couple of hours, but soon they were awakened again by a phone ringing incessantly. Everyone recognized Charlie’s ringtone. Judging by the time, it was Chen Fan’s call to Charlie.

We’d originally suspected Charlie and Z, but it seemed they both had alibis.

I watched Z on set; the director had to call cut several times. No one looked pleased, but no one said anything. In the end, the director simply paused the morning’s shoot and told Z to rest. Z wandered back, and Charlie patted her shoulder, telling her not to overthink things. Leaving the film city, we got in the car and drove with Charlie and Z to their apartment complex.

There had been a murder, so the underground garage was cordoned off. We had to park outside. This was my second time at Z’s place, and I felt that same chill upon entering. Perhaps it was psychological, but the temperature seemed lower than elsewhere.

I noticed that after coming in, Z didn’t bother to turn on the lights; she just sat on the sofa and invited us to sit as well. The curtains were drawn, making the room stuffy. Remembering that last time Z objected to opening the curtains or turning on lights, I surmised that she truly preferred darkness at home.

I was unceremonious and turned on the lights. Z grew nervous, glancing around as if searching for something. Then, the child said something that startled both Z and Charlie: “Brother Fang Han, there’s a ghost here.”

This wasn’t the first time the child had said that. I noticed Z’s gaze immediately shifted to a tightly closed cabinet. I called out to Z, asking her to continue what she hadn’t finished saying before. She hesitated for a long time before finally speaking—and this time, she broke down in tears.

Z said she truly didn’t know what to do anymore; she’d been plagued by nightmares for a long time. In her dreams, there was always a child with an indistinguishable face calling her name, the voice cold and genderless, demanding to know why Z wouldn’t let him go. Suddenly, Z took off her coat. Her trembling silhouette was starkly outlined, but at that moment, none of us cared about her figure, because she rolled up her sleeve.

We’d only glimpsed it before, but now we saw it clearly. The scratches on Z’s arm were worse than we’d imagined—short but deep, some already scabbed over, others raw where the flesh had been gouged out. Chen Fan inhaled sharply. The contrast between these wounds and Z’s beauty made one’s scalp tingle.

Z was emotionally unstable. She suddenly rushed over and grabbed my hand: “It’s the Kuman Thong—it must be him!”

She said these scratches always appeared after she woke up; she had no recollection of how they happened. I turned to Charlie. At some point, he’d started smoking. None of us had expected the usually glamorous Z and Charlie to be so despondent.

“All the rumors about me keeping a Kuman Thong are true. I really don’t know what to do anymore,” Z sobbed.

I had already told Z and Charlie in detail about the deaths of Master Wu Qingshan and the drunkard. It was like a fuse, igniting their already frayed nerves. Z said she’d do anything if I could help her—she’d apologize publicly and never go near the Kuman Thong again.

I frowned, not knowing what to say.

To sum up Z’s account: she and Charlie had indeed asked Wu Qingshan to help them keep a Kuman Thong. Z believed Wu Qingshan and the drunkard were killed by the spirit child, because she and Charlie hadn’t followed Wu’s instructions and returned the Kuman Thong in time. The soul, trapped and resentful, had taken its revenge.

Z’s shoulders shook even harder. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. I keep seeing filthy things—right here in this room, here and there!” She released my hand, nervously pointing all over the place. Her agitation made Charlie and Chen Fan tense, their gazes darting around.

Charlie looked as if he might cry. Suddenly he added, “I’ve seen a shadow twice myself…”

I was taken aback and urged him to explain. Z and Charlie’s habit of interrupting each other was wearing on my patience. But before Charlie could speak, Z seemed to go mad and lunged straight for the child—!

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