Whoosh—
Autumn Ease yanked open the curtains, letting the blinding golden sunlight flood his bedroom.
In the autumn glow, countless dust motes drifted lazily through the air.
His phone buzzed, chirping a crisp water-drop tone—someone had messaged him on WeChat.
Autumn Ease only added work colleagues and relatives on WeChat. A message meant business—or his mom’s endless voice notes.
Staring at the one-minute audio clip, he sighed. He didn’t want to tap it, but feared missing something important.
Modern tech bridged distances; a loved one’s voice felt like a whisper in his ear.
“Autumn Ease, what are you doing at home? How many vacation days did you take? Are you staying a few more days before heading to Hangzhou? Is that campus beauty still pretty?”
His eyebrows twitched. His mom was always so nosy. That “campus beauty” had married years ago—why ask?
Before he could type a reply, another voice note arrived—longer this time.
His frown deepened.
“Clean the house. No one’s been back; everything’s molding. Today’s sunny—air out the quilts. Winter’s coming. Cook at home, not takeout. Buy loofah and okra at the market; they’re cheap in autumn. You know how to stir-fry loofah with eggs. Boil okra, then dip it in sauce…”
After listening to several nagging notes, Autumn Ease finally replied—mostly with half-hearted answers.
Like… he had zero urge to cook. Or even leave his apartment.
He made an excuse: *What if I get killed?*
Yeah, food delivery felt safer.
Even in small cities, delivery thrived. Glancing at the clock—past ten—he ordered cheap lunch, then dragged himself out of bed.
He aired the quilts, tossed clothes into the washer, and poured detergent.
Spotting bloodstains, he winced. He Googled how to remove them.
Plenty of methods popped up, but he lacked the ingredients. He switched the tap to cold water—apparently better for blood.
He squinted at the detergent bottle boasting “removes bloodstains!”—whatever.
If it failed, he’d deal later.
The floor held no trash, just thick dust. Sweeping did nothing. Resigned, he grabbed a damp cloth and scrubbed tile by tile.
The musty smell faded. Sunlight streamed through clean windows, lifting his mood.
He realized how numb he’d become. Before, such mysteries would’ve sparked fierce curiosity.
Now? If nothing happened next, he’d likely forget it all.
Sometimes, forgetting—and killing curiosity—made survival easier.
At twenty-six, he’d outgrown reckless youth.
Just as exhaustion hit, lunch arrived.
His heart pounded opening the door—not for a cute delivery girl, but fear: *What if yesterday’s killer disguised as a courier?*
Overthinking. The courier was a middle-aged man.
Tired eyes, messy hair, greasy aura, reeking of smoke.
“Your order,” he muttered flatly. His gaze held a trace of killing intent—not like an ordinary person, but someone who’d slaughtered many beasts.
Or maybe just a butcher.
“Thanks.”
Autumn Ease took the food, set the table by the window, and plopped down.
He watched anime while eating. Two hours slipped by.
Glancing at the midday sun, he called GuanPeng.
“Yo? GuanPeng?”
“Damn it! I just woke up, and your call rings. Did you bug my room or what?” The joking tone dissolved Autumn Ease’s worry.
“Shit, I was worried about you!” Autumn Ease caught himself mimicking GuanPeng’s slang. “Anyway, that thing you wanted to tell me this morning—just say it now. You won’t believe what happened today…”
“What? What was I gonna say?”
“Huh? You forgot?”
“Yeah… kinda. Feels important, but it’s gone.”
“Seriously?!”
“Swear. Remind me—maybe it’ll come back.”
“A girl. A girl from a dream.”
Silence stretched. GuanPeng’s reply crushed him: “No idea…”
“Really?” Autumn Ease doubted it—this had to be a prank.
“Dead serious.” GuanPeng’s voice turned grave.
Autumn Ease weighed his sincerity, then sighed. “Fine. Tell me when you remember.”
“Okay.”
The call ended.
Confusion thickened.
GuanPeng forgot too?
Memories from the dream world…
Was this linked to whoever wanted him dead?
Eliminate all who knew? Death or amnesia?
“Aaagh!” Autumn Ease rubbed his temples, groaning. “What the hell is going on…”
His phone rang—the Tom and Jerry theme.
“Mom?” He answered.
“Sweetie? What’re you up to?”
“…Spit it out, okay?” He rolled his eyes. Her timing was perfect—right when he needed quiet.
His heart churned with frustration.
He needed space to process.
“Aw, just chatting. Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Please. We met last month.”
“Exactly—a whole month!”
“Talk fast. I’m busy.” His tone sharpened.
After twenty years of daily nagging calls, impatience was normal.
He knew he *should* be patient. But hearing her voice? Impossible.
“Your cousin-uncle passed away.”
“Huh? Which one?”
“The one we met at Qingming Festival last year.”
“Oh… right.” Autumn Ease hummed vaguely. Only a faint memory remained.
“He was kind as a kid. His parents helped our family. He served in the army… How did his health fail so fast? A stroke took him young.”
“Mm.”
“Your dad and I are swamped with work. Can’t attend the funeral. You still have vacation days—go for us?” Her voice trembled with sorrow.
“When? Day after tomorrow.”
“Day after tomorrow…” Autumn Ease calculated. That was his first workday back. Attending meant sacrificing rest.
“You’ll go the day before. They booked a hotel—the funeral starts early.”
“Fine.” He relented.
Maybe he sensed her grief.
She was remembering childhood.
Back then, no kid imagined their own death.
Life trapped her—work and duty held her down.
Or maybe he just craved an excuse to leave—even for a funeral.
True freedom was a myth. Better to accept it.
“Coordinate with your uncle. Meet him at the train station there.”
“Okay.”
*Uncle* meant his mom’s younger brother.
“Ugh, you brat. You talk less every year.”
“Gotta go. Busy.”
“Busy gaming, right…”
Autumn Ease’s ears buzzed. He hung up fast, slumping at his computer.
He’d search Baidu. Maybe others shared his nightmare—even as urban legends.
Why did he resurrect after being killed?
Why turn into a girl, then revert?
The twists made his head spin.
Even if ghosts toyed with him…
Why complicate it?
Just kill him already.
He dug out his five-year-old laptop, dusted it off, and connected to his $30/year internet.
Time to search.
========
(Scene: Late-night computer glow)
