Shapeshifters

After all, even if I encountered a ghost, it was a rather beautiful female ghost. I observed her from afar for a while. Perhaps it was just my mind playing tricks, but she looked somewhat familiar, as if I had seen her somewhere before, yet I couldn’t connect her to any specific name. Then, I felt a bit ridiculous for reacting this way to a beautiful woman; it seemed like the most cliché excuse to strike up a conversation. This wasn’t the bar area of Hengshan Road, where casually chatting up a pretty girl could potentially lead to a romance like that of Hiroshima. Here, the environment and the way she was dressed looked more like something out of a horror movie than a romance. I decided then and there, whether she was human or ghost, I would pay her no mind and head back to sleep; it was the more practical choice. Lying in bed, I pondered again. Black cats, known as one of the most ominous symbols, and I couldn’t even count how many I had seen today; it certainly wasn’t a good omen. The long-haired woman in white was another common prop in ghost stories, from “Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio” to “The Ring.” All signs pointed to my streak of bad luck; I needed to be extra cautious these days. After tossing and turning half the night, I finally fell asleep, only to wake up at noon. Lying in bed, though now clear-headed, I was too lazy to get up. Honestly, the apartment was quite nice, with a clean decor, and the bed was especially comfortable. The ceiling… the ceiling had several water stains. I lay there, frowning at the stains, some of which had even caused the paint to bubble. I remembered that the Zhidan Garden community wasn’t that old; for new buildings to look like this was odd. Shoddy construction and structural issues were common nowadays, but Zhidan Garden should have been better. If there was a problem, as a journalist, it was my duty to… Hmm? Several expanding water stains near the top left corner immediately caught my attention. I looked more closely; those stains were indeed growing, which was odd. Typically, water leaks in buildings are due to issues with the plumbing on the upper floors. But these stains seemed to lead towards the living room. If it wasn’t a structural issue with the building, something must have happened in the apartment above. I got up immediately, dressed without bothering to wash up, and hurried to the second floor to knock on the door. As soon as I reached the door, I could see water seeping out from underneath, flooding the floor. I knocked vigorously, thinking the owner might have forgotten to turn off the tap while they were out. Unexpectedly, the door opened. “What’s the matter?” A woman with long hair, dressed in simple striped pajamas, answered. I was stunned upon seeing her; she was undoubtedly the same woman I had encountered last night. Up close, she was undeniably beautiful, especially her enviable long, black hair, which was now slightly disheveled. She was still fixing her hair when she saw me, pausing slightly, probably recognizing me as the person she met last night. “Who are you? What do you want?” She eyed me warily, stepping back into her apartment. She probably thought, given our encounter last night, that I was some kind of creepy stalker. I noticed her feet, clad in slippers, were soaked, and part of her trousers was wet too, looking quite disheveled. “I live downstairs, just moved in yesterday. I noticed water leaking from your place this morning; it’s causing my ceiling to bubble.” I peered inside to see her apartment flooded like a river. “But it looks like your situation is even worse.” “Oh… I’m really sorry,” she said, tilting her head with a helpless expression. “I fell asleep while taking a bath, forgot to turn off the water, and it flooded everywhere without me noticing, hehe, it’s quite a mess.” She kicked up a small splash and laughed. I took another close look at her; she seemed very familiar, with a habit of playing with her hair, constantly running her fingers through her shoulder-length locks. That’s when I realized I actually knew her. At least, I knew her name. As a journalist, remembering names is crucial, especially when trying to get close to someone. Forgetting a name in such a situation is a professional faux pas. I’m not the most diligent journalist, but names that pass through my mind don’t easily fade. “You… you are Su Ying, right?” I asked. “You are…?” The beauty looked surprised, staring at me with wide eyes. “I’m Na Duo, a reporter from the ‘Morning Star Daily’. Your shampoo commercial is quite famous now. We did a feature on you about a month ago.” Su Ying was an up-and-coming advertising star, known not just for her long hair but also for her stunning, delicate features. I considered myself quite good at spotting beauty. Our editor must have noticed her potential too, thinking she would become famous, and decided to do an interview before she hit the big time, to show our foresight and support, hoping she would thank us later. “Oh, right. That was done by a reporter named Shui Sheng, who lives downstairs. He sometimes comes up to chat with me. So, you are…?” Su Ying said, looking enlightened. “He’s away on business and lent me his place temporarily.” “Oh,” she smiled, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Na Duo.” We shook hands. “The honor is mine. Actually, I knew you before Shui Sheng did.” “Oh?” In fact, the interview with her was originally assigned to me, but due to some unforeseen circumstances, I couldn’t make it, so I had Shui Sheng go in my stead. It was quite a coincidence that both Shui Sheng and Su Ying lived in Zhidan Garden, just upstairs and downstairs from each other. That’s how I recognized her. I patiently explained this series of events to Su Ying, cursing myself internally for missing a chance to get close to a beauty.