Last Bus of Route 13

Whether Sixth Uncle was alive or dead didn’t matter as much as whether he was human or… something else. That question directly tied back to Bai Fan.

I couldn’t shake the memory of how Bai Fan had greeted Sixth Uncle so warmly on the bus. She had called him “Sixth Uncle” herself, saying he lived near her family and had watched her grow up.

The more I thought about it, the colder I felt inside.

Xiao Liu noticed the scattered forms on the ground and muttered a complaint before quickly bending down to pick them up.

He hadn’t even gathered half of them when Old Wu came running over from a distance, his voice sharp and accusing:

“What are you doing?!”

That shout yanked me out of my tangled thoughts and back into reality.

Old Wu rushed over, snatched the black bag from Xiao Liu’s hands, and immediately started gathering the scattered forms. His tone was anything but friendly as he asked:

“Why is this bag in your hands?”

Xiao Liu, ever the diligent worker and respectful subordinate, hurried to explain:

“Brother Wu, we ran into the elderly guard, and he said you’d left this bag behind. We were just about to bring it to you.”

Once all the forms were stuffed back into the bag, Old Wu glared at me and muttered under his breath:

“Looks like everything I said this morning went in one ear and out the other. Do you really have to dig this deep?”

Before I could respond, Xiao Liu chimed in:

“Brother Wu, don’t mind Li Yao. His brain doesn’t always work right. He didn’t mean to scatter the files like that.”

I frowned and asked:

“Old Wu, I’ve already looked through two of these file folders. Tell me, why do the forms list the deceased passengers as villagers from Huyaoshan? Didn’t you say before they were all from Tangwazi Village?”

Old Wu let out a heavy sigh, waved his hand dismissively, and said:

“I’ll say it again-if you want to stay alive, stop asking questions.”

With that, he stormed off, bag in hand, clearly irritated.

Three simple bus accidents had somehow spiraled into something far more mysterious.

Feeling defeated, I followed Xiao Liu back to the dormitory. Just as we arrived, I received a text from Bai Fan:

“You didn’t show up last time I invited you to dinner. Are you free tomorrow?”

I stared at the message, gripping my mobile phone tightly, unsure how to respond. It had been days since I’d last seen Bai Fan, and I couldn’t deny that I missed her. But with everything going on, should I still meet her?

Or was I just overthinking things?

She didn’t seem to care about my short stature, my average looks, or my lack of wealth-wasn’t that already a blessing? And here I was, doubting her, doubting everything. I’d doubted Old Liu before, and in the end, hadn’t I just proven my own foolishness?

After wrestling with my thoughts for what felt like forever, I finally convinced myself. My fingers moved quickly across the screen as I typed my reply:

“7:30 PM then. My treat.”

After sending that, I thought for a moment and added another message:

“Don’t bring Tang Yao. Just the two of us.”

A few minutes later, Bai Fan replied with a ghost emoji. That was it-no further messages.

I set my phone down and sank into my bed, relishing the comfort of the blankets.

Tonight was the most peaceful I’d felt in ages. No terrifying cries from The Gate Where a Hundred Ghosts Cry. No eerie whispers from under the bed.

Everything seemed to have finally returned to normal. Xiao Liu was snoring away, his snores loud enough to shake the walls, as if the recent dangers had nothing to do with him.

He still had no idea about the dangers of the last bus of Route 13. Every day, he worked with enthusiasm, even reflecting on his own performance and suggesting several improvements for the passenger compartments to Old Wu.

Watching Xiao Liu sleep so soundly and carefree, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of reassurance.

Xiao Liu spent his days looking at me like I was some kind of idiot, running around like a headless chicken. He had no idea what I was up to, yet every time I needed his help, he never complained. He never asked questions. He was always the first to step up.

Isn’t that what being brothers is all about?

So, from here on out, I decided I’d wade through this murky mess of fate on my own.

With that thought in mind, I gradually drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sound of Xiao Liu’s thunderous snores.

The next morning, Bun Hairstyle showed up in Binjiang District again for some business. With nothing better to do, he dropped by our office to chat with us.

Seeing Bun Hairstyle reminded me of Scorpion, so I asked him about the situation.

Bun Hairstyle threw his head back and laughed heartily three times before saying, “That punk Scorpion is done for. The day he killed that guy and tried to run, I tipped off a friend at the Public Security Bureau. They caught him red-handed. The cops even gave me a 500-yuan reward.”

I asked, worried, “But his gang is so powerful. What if he comes after you for revenge when he gets out?”

Bun Hairstyle waved dismissively. “Revenge? He’s got no chance. Before, I couldn’t touch him because he hadn’t broken the law. But now? He committed murder. My connections at the bureau have locked him up tight. No amount of money will get him out.”

He noticed my mood was still down and, knowing I was still upset about Mr. He’s death, tried to comfort me. “Look, bro, you shouldn’t beat yourself up over this. Honestly, I think that kid tricked you. He was so young he could’ve been dripping wet behind the ears. How could he possibly have been the 73-year-old Mr. He you were looking for?”

Since the man was already gone, I didn’t want to argue with Bun Hairstyle about it anymore. I just smiled and brushed it off.

Bun Hairstyle suggested we all go out for drinks that evening, but I told him I had plans with Bai Fan, so I declined. By five or six in the afternoon, Bun Hairstyle and Xiao Liu had already headed out.

I quickly got myself ready and went to meet Bai Fan for our date.

The information in the second file folder had surprised me, but in the end, I chose to trust Bai Fan and set my doubts aside.

That evening, Bai Fan wore a white T-shirt and jeans, her figure as stunning as a model’s.

When she saw me, she seemed genuinely happy and kept saying how much she’d missed me over the past few days. Her sweet words completely disarmed me, and all my earlier worries and fears vanished in an instant.

During dinner, I wanted to ask her about Sixth Uncle several times, but every time the words were on the tip of my tongue, I swallowed them back down.

After dinner, we strolled along the riverside, chatting aimlessly about anything and everything.

Suddenly, a loud voice called out from behind us, “Well, isn’t this a coincidence!”

I turned around to see who it was and, to my surprise, it was Bun Hairstyle and Xiao Liu.

Bun Hairstyle’s eyes lit up when he saw Bai Fan. He looked at me in astonishment and said, “Dude, are you for real? Is this gorgeous lady your girlfriend?”

I knew exactly what he was implying and shot him a glare without saying a word.

Xiao Liu, noticing Bun Hairstyle’s teasing tone, gave him a shove and said, “Hey, don’t look down on people like that. I think Li Yao and Bai Fan make a great couple.”

I was just about to thank Xiao Liu for coming to my defense when, to my dismay, he glanced at me, then at Bai Fan, and suddenly burst out laughing.

My temper flared instantly. Just as I was about to snap back at the two of them, a soft, feminine voice chimed in, “Well, well, Bai Fan. Hanging out without inviting me, huh?”

The voice sounded so familiar to me. I turned around and saw Tang Yao, the red-dress herself. However, she only wore her signature red dress when there were no outsiders around. Today, she was dressed in a chic and vibrant outfit.

Bai Fan was surprised to see Tang Yao and immediately pulled her over, explaining that it was just a coincidence running into her.

After introducing Bun Hairstyle to the group, I noticed he was utterly mesmerized by Tang Yao. His gaze was fixed, and he looked like he was about to drool.

Tang Yao clearly sensed my lack of enthusiasm toward her presence, but it didn’t faze her at all. She quickly blended in with the group, chatting and laughing as if she had known everyone for years.

Everyone seemed to be in high spirits-except for me, of course. Bun Hairstyle suggested we head over to a café owned by one of his friends.

Before I could protest, they dragged me along, moving with such urgency that I had no choice but to follow.

The café was lavishly decorated, one of the most upscale places in the city. Bun Hairstyle, being close to the boss, arranged for us to have a private room.

Clearly enchanted by Tang Yao’s beauty, Bun Hairstyle couldn’t stop talking. His jokes had both her and Bai Fan laughing nonstop. However, his bragging started to go overboard, and before long, he was boasting about how fearless he was-even when it came to ghosts.

Tang Yao, intrigued, suggested with a playful smile, “We’re all bored anyway. Since you’re so brave, why don’t we play Plate Spirit?”

The mere mention of Plate Spirit sent shivers down my spine. I broke into a cold sweat. The ordeal with The Gate Where a Hundred Ghosts Cry had just passed, and here she was suggesting this nonsense. Plate Spirit? No way!

I was vehemently against it, silently cursing Tang Yao in my mind.

I knew Bun Hairstyle well. When it came to people, he feared no one. He could take on ten guys without batting an eye. But when it came to ghosts? He’d turn into a trembling mess. Yet, desperate to maintain his macho image in front of Tang Yao, he swallowed hard and forced out, “Sure, sure! I’m game for anything.”

Xiao Liu, being someone who didn’t believe in ghosts at all, naturally agreed. Bai Fan, though timid, loved a lively atmosphere, and seeing everyone so excited, she nodded as well. In no time, all eyes were on me.

This wasn’t just some harmless game. If I went along with it and things went south, it could spell disaster. I quickly shook my head and said, “Why play Plate Spirit at night? It’s such a tacky game. Let’s go sing karaoke instead.”

Tang Yao scoffed and shot back with a mocking tone, “It’s 2017, and you’re still using The Most Dazzling National Style as your ringtone. How could we possibly sing karaoke with you? Three people are up for it, and you’re the only one chickening out. Aren’t you worried Bai Fan will think you’re a coward?”

Her words were cutting, and I frowned, ready to retort. But Bai Fan gently grabbed my arm and said, “Everyone wants to play. Let’s just try it. It’s all fake anyway. Don’t be scared-I’m here.”

With Bai Fan’s reassurance, the group burst into laughter.

This was blatant peer pressure. But with Bai Fan saying that, how could I refuse without making her feel awkward?

I took a deep breath and reluctantly nodded, thinking to myself that I’d just play along briefly and then find an excuse to leave.

Tang Yao, seeing my agreement, grinned and called over a waiter to bring a large plate and a white tablecloth. She then used a pen to draw a big circle on the cloth, writing “Yes” on the left and “No” on the right. She placed the plate upside down in the center.

Once everything was set, we mimicked what we’d seen on TV, extending our index fingers to press lightly on the plate.

The moment my finger touched the plate, my heart started pounding uncontrollably, like a drumbeat echoing in my chest.

I silently prayed, Please, let nothing happen!

Bun Hairstyle sat beside me. I glanced at him and saw that his eyes were wide with fear, his face pale as a sheet.

Tang Yao, seeing we were ready, stared at the plate with a solemn expression and recited, “Plate Spirit, Plate Spirit, we invite you to come. If you’re here, please draw a circle.”

We held our breath, staring at the plate intently, not daring to make a sound.

A minute passed.

The plate didn’t move.

Relieved, I finally exhaled and was about to let go, ready to declare the whole thing a sham and call it quits.

But before I could release my finger, the plate suddenly began to move under our fingertips!

Footnote:

Plate Spirit(碟仙): The Plate Spirit is a traditional Chinese divination game, similar to a Ouija board. Participants place their fingers on a plate or a similar object, and supposedly, spirits guide the plate to answer questions or provide insights, often used to communicate with the supernatural.