After Shen Niannian died, she became a ghost and took up residence in an abandoned electrical room on the roof of the tallest building in the city. She hid from the sun by day and drifted out to cause trouble at night.
A basketball flew up from below and hit her on the head. A boy named Jiang Yu lived downstairs. He played basketball, listened to Canon, and was afraid of the dark, though he’d never admit it. Niannian drifted into his room and didn’t want to leave. He couldn’t see her, after all. She eavesdropped while he played games and crept closer to him in his sleep to sneak a little of his yang energy.
But ghosts have an expiration date. Her spirit weakened day by day, and she began to appear before him. At last, he could see her. When he couldn’t see her, he could pretend she wasn’t there. Once he could, there was no going back. She couldn’t touch him or hold him, and even when she tried to tuck him in, her hands passed right through him.
The seven-day countdown began. Only then did she understand that some distances weren’t about life and death. They meant being unable to hold on to even the last trace of warmth.
The night she disappeared, he clutched his empty hand and called her name, over and over.
Three months later, he designed a bridge connecting two worlds. Canon played in the middle of the night. The basketball in the corner rolled out on its own and gently tapped his shoe.
There was still a little warmth on the ball.
He chose to believe that she had come back.
