Chapter Sixty-One: The Ball

“Oh, you’re so bad—scared me again!” Fang Min once again threw herself into Fang Yong’s arms.

“I was scared too!” Zhang Song said as he tried to lean on Lin Xue.

“Get lost!” Lin Xue pushed Zhang Song away with her shoulder.

“You’ve been telling ghost stories all night. Do any of you actually want to see a real ghost?” Fang Min asked, sounding jittery.

“See a ghost? I think the only thing we’ll see here is a lecher!” Lin Xue joked.

With a flourish, Fang Min suddenly pulled a yellowed old book from her pocket. “Look what I found on my way here—a curious little book called ‘A Diary of Encounters with Ghosts’. It describes lots of ways to see ghosts. Dare to try?”

“What’s there to be afraid of?” Zhang Song glanced at Lin Xue. “If anyone chickens out, just say so!”

“You lot have played every kind of game—now you want to play with ghosts too?” Lin Xue teased.

“If you dare play with people, why not with ghosts?” Fang Yong said, sneaking another kiss from Fang Min.

“You’re so annoying!” Fang Min pretended to be indignant and gave Fang Yong a playful shove.

“Fine, let’s do it. Who’s scared?” Lin Xue retorted, refusing to back down. After all, she had survived supernatural events before—what did she have to fear?

“Then let’s pick a game at random!” Fang Min flipped through the ‘Diary of Encounters with Ghosts’. “How about this one?”

“Playing soccer!”

“Soccer?”

Everyone looked confused. “You can see ghosts by playing soccer? Then soccer players must see them every day!”

“This isn’t the soccer you’re thinking of,” Fang Min said, peering at the book. “The ball has to be made of folded paper, tied tight with a red string so it’s firm enough not to tear. If you tie it with red string, ghosts can touch the ball too.”

“And we have to play at a crossroads, because accidents happen there and there are always wandering spirits. We each stand far apart in four directions and kick the ball to one another. If a ghost is attracted, it’ll join in, and the ball will move faster and faster. When that happens, we’ll see the ghost playing with us.”

“But be careful—if the ball tears, the ghost will be angry and follow you, bringing you misfortune.”

After Fang Min finished explaining, everyone nodded thoughtfully.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Zhang Song was eager—though it seemed he was more interested in getting close to Lin Xue than seeing ghosts.

“Let’s do it, but don’t lose your nerve later!” Lin Xue took several sheets of ritual paper from her bag. “I just happen to have some—perfect for making a soccer ball!”

Everyone quickly gathered the materials. In no time, they had fashioned a paper ball, tightly bound with red string.

Once it was ready, they made their way to a nearby crossroads and stood in a line facing four different directions.

“I’ll go first! I was the school’s soccer ace as a kid!” Zhang Song boasted, showing off as he kicked the ball to Fang Yong.

“Didn’t anyone tell you? I was a striker too!” Fang Yong caught the ball with his foot and sent it flying to his girlfriend, Fang Min.

“Why so rough? That hurt!” Fang Min pouted, half-angry, then kicked the ball to Lin Xue.

Lin Xue refused to be outdone and sent the ball back to Zhang Song.

Back and forth, the four of them kicked the paper ball around.

After about ten minutes, Fang Yong, hands on hips and out of breath, said, “I’m exhausted. Is this even going to work?”

“Doubting me? You promised to always believe me—even after we get married!” Fang Min retorted, kicking the ball to Lin Xue.

“Not seeing a ghost is best—less trouble that way.” Lin Xue, who had once nearly died in a supernatural incident, secretly hoped nothing would happen tonight.

“Come on, keep going! What’s there to be afraid of?” Zhang Song insisted.

Lin Xue kicked the ball back to Zhang Song.

Suddenly, as the ball flew through the air, it paused for a moment, then rolled straight to Fang Yong’s feet.

Everyone was startled.

“What was that just now? Lin Xue, you’re trying to scare us!” Fang Yong picked up the ball and kicked it to Zhang Song. “She’s got guts, I’ll give her that.”

“The bolder, the better—I like wild girls,” Zhang Song quipped, sending the ball to Fang Min.

“It probably just hit something. It wasn’t me—I don’t have those skills,” Lin Xue replied quietly.

“Enough chatter. If nothing weird happens after a few more rounds, let’s call it a night and go to bed,” Fang Min said, passing the ball to Lin Xue.

Suddenly, the ball paused again in midair, then slammed heavily into Zhang Song.

“Ugh!” Zhang Song grunted, holding his stomach where the ball had hit him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

The other three stared at the ball in front of Zhang Song, puzzled.

“Did you see that? The ball just moved on its own…!” Zhang Song hooked it up with his foot. “Ready for launch!”

But just then, as if struck by an unseen force, the ball shot directly toward Fang Yong.

Fang Yong, looking nervous, nevertheless returned the ball to Fang Min.

Now Fang Min, clearly shaken, hurried to pass it on—but the ball again veered straight to Zhang Song, as if by its own will.

“What’s going on with this ball?”

Zhang Song quickly kicked it to Fang Yong.

Fang Yong kicked it back, but again the ball swerved by itself to Fang Min.

The ball sped up, passing between them faster and faster, as if invisible players had joined in, kicking it around the four of them.

“What do we do? I can barely keep up!” Zhang Song gasped, catching and passing, catching and passing, but the ball’s erratic path made it seem like they really weren’t alone.

“I thought you were the soccer ace? Can’t handle this much?” Fang Yong retorted, sweating as he chased the ball, which only continued to accelerate, the air thick with unseen presences.

“I’m exhausted—I can’t go on!” Fang Min dropped to the ground, spent.

The next moment, as the ball shot toward her, about to strike, Fang Yong lunged forward and grabbed it. “Stop! We’re done!”

“Don’t tear the ball!” Fang Min cried in alarm.

But Fang Yong wasn’t listening. The paper ball, wound with red string, was ripped in two in his hands.

At that instant, the world around them fell eerily silent.

In the stillness, shadowy figures began to gather, their shapes slowly coming into focus. All around, black silhouettes drifted closer—each one unmistakably human in form, their faces showing disappointment, boredom, or rage.

“Ghosts!”