My husband, Asher, and my best friend, Blair, had conspired to push me off a high-rise building. Before I died, I saw them livestreaming from the rooftop. The title read, “Watch Me Send My Gold-Digging Bitch Wife to Hell LIVE.” The comments exploded with “LOLs” and “You’re a legend!” “This kind of greedy woman deserved it, Boss Asher is awesome!” “Zoom in! I want to see her desperate face!” “Goddess Blair finally gets to be with Boss Asher. Congrats!” Turns out, the whole world knew they were going to kill me. Only I was clueless. As they embraced and celebrated, I hovered behind them, a laugh escaping me. “Darling, I didn’t leave.” Asher’s body instantly stiffened. From then on, every night, I lay between them, whispering in their ears. I’d tell them how steel rebar had pierced my body, how my brains had splattered. Watching them go from sweet affection to mutual suspicion, eventually spiraling into mental breakdowns, brought me immense satisfaction. Until Blair went completely insane and brought in a Taoist master. But the master simply bowed respectfully to me: “Greetings, Ghost King. Welcome to your rightful place.”
My body passed through the ground, without any sensation. I looked down at my translucent hand. So, people really do become ghosts after they die. Not far away, Asher was holding Blair, their kiss deep and passionate. “Blair, we did it.” “Asher, I love you so much.” Blair’s cheeks were flushed, and she snuggled contentedly into Asher’s arms. Beneath their feet lay my still-warm corpse. My skull was shattered, red and white brain matter smeared across the ground. My eyes were wide open, staring up at the rooftop. There lay the man I had loved most, and my closest friend. They were celebrating my death, using the money my parents had left me. I drifted closer, right next to Asher’s ear. “Darling, I didn’t leave.” His body stiffened, and his embrace around Blair froze. “What’s wrong, Asher?” Blair noticed his unease. Asher’s face went pale, his eyes darting around in terror. “Did… did you hear something?” “Hear what? I only hear your heartbeat.” Blair purred, tracing circles on his chest. Asher swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Maybe I’m just too nervous, I must have imagined it.” I smiled. Don’t be nervous. Our game has only just begun. The police arrived quickly and took my body away. Asher, as my husband, feigned overwhelming grief. He held his head, repeatedly telling the police, “It’s all my fault, I didn’t watch her closely enough. She had depression, I should have known.” Blair played the role of the devastated best friend, sobbing uncontrollably, almost collapsing. The neighbors whispered amongst themselves, full of sympathy. “Mr. Asher is so pitiful, his wife just jumped.” “Yes, and Ms. Blair, what a good friend, crying like that.” I watched their performance with cold amusement. They really were a perfect pair of scumbags, their acting skills were impeccable. Back home, as soon as the door closed, the sadness vanished from their faces. Blair eagerly threw herself into Asher’s arms. “Asher, can we be together forever now?” “Of course, my darling.” Asher held her, tumbling onto the living room sofa. This was my home, the house my parents had left me as our marital residence. Now, it had become their sordid love nest. I floated above them, watching coldly. They tore at each other’s clothes, their breathing growing heavy. Just as Asher was about to get down to business, I blew a soft breath. The room’s temperature dropped sharply. Asher shivered, his desire instantly gone. “Why is it suddenly so cold?” He pulled the blanket over himself. Blair shivered too. “Yeah, is the AC broken?” I drifted to the air conditioner and set the temperature to its lowest. Cold air blasted out. Blair’s teeth began to chatter. “Asher, I’m scared.” “Don’t be afraid, I’ll check it.” Asher reluctantly got up, picking up the remote control. But no matter how many times he pressed it, the AC didn’t respond. He reached to switch off the power directly, but the moment his hand touched the switch, an electric current jolted him back. “Damn it!” He cursed, a scorched mark appearing on the back of his hand. Blair shrieked in terror. I let out a soft laugh, barely audible, yet it clearly reached their ears. “Who? Who’s there?” Asher’s hair stood on end. Blair practically burrowed into the blanket, trembling. I didn’t make another sound. I liked watching them terrified, yet unable to find the source. It was far more amusing than simply killing them.
That night, neither of them slept well. The next day, they both had huge dark circles under their eyes and looked utterly drained. Blair moved in first thing that morning, ostensibly to “care for a deeply grieving” Asher. She began to openly assume the role of mistress of the house. The first thing she did was throw out all my belongings. My clothes, my makeup, my books. As she tossed them, she whined to Asher, “Asher, these things just feel unlucky. Can we replace everything with new stuff, please?” Asher readily agreed. “Sure, whatever you want, as long as you’re happy.” I floated in front of the closet, watching Blair throw my favorite dress on the floor and even stomp on it. That was the first birthday gift Asher had ever given me. He’d said I looked like a fairy in it. Now, he watched Blair desecrate that “fairy-like” image, without a hint of regret in his eyes. I reached out and lightly touched the closet door. The heavy solid wood door slammed shut with a bang, crashing directly onto Blair’s foot. “Ah!” Blair shrieked, clutching her foot and rolling on the floor. Asher was aghast, rushing over to help her. “Blair, what happened?” “My foot… the closet door, it fell on its own!” Blair cried tears of pain. Asher looked up at the perfectly intact closet, frowning. “How could it fall on its own? Did you lose your balance?” “No! It just fell! This house is haunted! Valerie… Valerie’s back!” Blair completely broke down. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Asher snapped. “There’s no such thing as ghosts in this world!” Even as he said it, he subconsciously glanced around, his eyes filled with fear. I stood before him, flashing a brilliant smile. Too bad he couldn’t see me. Blair’s foot was fractured, and Asher took her to the hospital. Asher was left alone at home. He sat on the sofa, lit a cigarette, his brow deeply furrowed. He opened his phone and watched the livestream replay. As he watched the moment I was pushed off the building on the screen, instead of fear, a triumphant smirk played on his lips. The comments were still scrolling wildly. “Boss is a beast! That manipulative bitch deserved to die!” “Finally dead, what a relief!” “Asher and Blair are true love, they’re meant to be!” Asher watched with relish, as if enjoying a thrilling movie. I floated behind him, leaning close to his ear. “Enjoying the show?” My voice was icy, laced with a hint of mockery. The phone in Asher’s hand clattered to the floor. He whirled around, but there was no one there. “Who? Who’s playing these tricks? Get out here!” He grabbed the ashtray from the table and hurled it toward the center of the living room. The ashtray shattered on the floor. I effortlessly dodged it. “Don’t get so worked up, darling.” “Have you forgotten? It’s me, your wife, Valerie.” I mimicked my voice from when I was alive, calling him softly. Asher’s face instantly drained of all color. He scrambled out of the house, as if a monstrous flood was chasing him. I watched his pathetic retreat, my smile widening. This was just the beginning. 3. Asher hid in a hotel for two days. I didn’t bother him during that time. I needed him to believe that as long as he left that house, he was safe. After Blair was discharged from the hospital, she immediately went to find him. As soon as she saw him, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. “Asher, I’m so scared. Can we not live in that house anymore? Can we sell it and buy a new one?” Her crying irritated Asher. “Sell it? Easier said than done! That was Valerie’s pre-marital property, left to her by her parents. She just died, the property’s still frozen. How can we sell it?” Blair’s sobbing stopped short. “Then what do we do? I can’t go back, I really can’t.” “Alright, stop crying!” Asher pushed her away impatiently. “It was just a closet door, what kind of ghost could that be? You’re just scaring yourself!” He said it, but he himself didn’t dare to go home. So, they settled into the hotel. They thought that would be the end of it. So naive. At night, I waited until they were both sound asleep before slowly materializing. I lay between them, my cold body pressed against Asher’s back. He was sleeping soundly, seemingly lost in a pleasant dream, a smile on his lips. I leaned close to his ear, and in a voice only he could hear, I began to tell stories. “When you pushed me down, Blair seemed to be smiling, you know.” “She said your money, your house, would all be hers now.” Asher’s breathing grew shallow, and his body twisted restlessly in his sleep. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his brows tightly furrowed. I turned my head and leaned close to Blair’s ear. “Blair, my best friend.” “Asher said he was just playing with you, and once he got all my assets, he’d dump you.” “He also sent your intimate photos to his friends, saying you were cheap.” Blair’s eyes snapped open, and she let out a horrified scream. “Ah!” Asher was startled awake by her. “What’s wrong with you now?” he grumbled. “Valerie… I dreamed of Valerie! She was talking right in my ear!” Blair clutched her head, trembling all over. “Are you sick? Valerie, Valerie, all the time!” Asher was at his wits’ end. “It was just a dream!” “It wasn’t a dream! It was real! I heard it clearly!” “I think you’ve really lost your mind!” The two of them had a huge fight in the hotel room in the middle of the night. I floated on the ceiling, savoring their pathetic display. Mutual suspicion, mutual accusations. Excellent. From that day on, I visited them every night to tell them stories. I recounted the details of my death, the wicked deeds they had committed, and then embellished them with fabricated lies. Asher and Blair’s sleep quality plummeted, and their mental state deteriorated rapidly. They began to suspect each other. Blair wondered if Asher really just wanted to trick her for money and then dump her. Asher suspected Blair of secretly plotting something behind his back. The two, once so inseparable, now looked at each other with eyes full of wariness and disgust. Their “love” crumbled easily under the weight of my ghost stories. 4. Half a month later, they finally couldn’t take it anymore. Their money was almost gone, and they couldn’t afford the hotel. Most importantly, no matter where they went, my voice followed them like a shadow. They had no choice but to bite the bullet and move back into the house that filled them with dread. On the very first day back, Blair hired a shaman. The shaman wore a robe of an indistinguishable color, and strange symbols were painted on her face. As soon as she entered, she portentously walked around. “Hmm, this house has a seriously eerie vibe.” Blair clung to her like a lifeline, quickly asking, “Master, can you fix it?” The shaman pulled out a stack of yellow talismans from her robe. “No problem. I’ll set up a spell array and make sure that little ghost is banished forever.” With that, she plastered the talismans all over the house. On the doors, windows, walls, and ceiling. Then, she lit three incense sticks and chanted incantations under her breath. I curiously drifted closer to watch. The talismans were crooked and looked like childish scribbles. I reached out and touched one, and it instantly turned to ash. The shaman’s chanting stopped abruptly. She stared, dumbfounded, as her “spiritual tools” failed right before me. I blew a breath in her direction. All the talismans in the room spontaneously combusted at the same time. The flames weren’t large, but they were enough to send the shaman scrambling away in terror. “Ghost… A ghost!” She stumbled out, fleeing in a panic, not even bothering to collect her payment for the ritual. Blair and Asher’s faces were paler than corpses. Even a shaman couldn’t deal with me. They were utterly desperate. From that day on, Blair’s sanity completely unraveled. She started talking to herself, alternating between crying and laughing. She would yell at empty air, calling me a “bitch” for haunting them even after death. She would also suddenly fall to her knees, begging me to leave her alone. Asher wasn’t much better. He began to drink heavily, getting drunk every day. Only under the haze of alcohol could he find a moment of peace. But once the liquor wore off, an even deeper fear awaited him. I intensified my efforts. I began to manifest myself before them. At first, it was just a blurry shadow, flickering in the corner of their eyes. Later, it became clearer and clearer. They could see me, wearing the white dress I died in, covered in blood, floating through the living room. The first time Blair saw my clear image, she fainted outright from fright. When she woke up, she was completely mad. She told everyone that I had returned to take their lives. No one believed her. Everyone thought she had suffered a mental breakdown from the shock of her “best friend’s suicide.” Asher had her committed to a mental hospital. I followed. In the mental hospital, Blair was tied to her bed, endlessly muttering my name. “Valerie, please let me go, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” “Please, stop following me.” The doctors injected her with a sedative, and she slowly quieted down. Asher stood outside the room, watching her through the glass. There was no hint of tenderness on his face, only disgust and relief. He had finally gotten rid of that crazy woman. I floated beside him and whispered, “You’re next.” Asher’s body trembled, and he spun around abruptly. He seemed to sense something, his eyes filled with terror. He no longer cared about his disheveled appearance, stumbling out of the hospital. He thought that if he just stayed far away from Blair, far away from anything connected to me, he could escape me. He was wrong. I was his shadow; wherever he went, I followed. He dared not go home, dared not go to the office, only wandering aimlessly outside. He sought out all sorts of masters, monks, and Taoist priests. He spent a lot of money, but none of them helped. Those so-called “spiritual experts,” upon seeing me, either fled in terror or were complete charlatans. Asher’s savings quickly ran dry. He had killed me for my money. Now, the money was gone, and he’d brought a world of trouble upon himself. What a cosmic joke. He became increasingly haggard, his eyes sunken, his face unshaven, like a homeless man. He no longer resembled the once-spirited Boss Asher. I watched him walk step by step toward his ruin, my heart filled with glee. One day, he heard about a Taoist temple in the city’s outskirts, where an old Taoist master supposedly had profound magical powers, specializing in dealing with “unclean” things. He clung to it like a last straw, immediately seeking it out. It was a very dilapidated temple, hidden deep in the mountains. Asher hiked a long way up the mountain path before finding the place. When he saw the old Taoist master, he immediately knelt down. “Master, please save me! I’m being haunted by a malevolent ghost!” The old Taoist master, Master Zephyr, had white hair and beard, exuding an ethereal presence. He opened his eyes and calmly glanced at Asher. Then, his gaze moved past Asher and settled on me. In that instant, his expression changed. No longer calm, but startled, with a hint of reverence. I was somewhat surprised. This old Taoist master seemed different from the charlatans before. He could clearly see me. Asher was still weeping. “That female ghost is too powerful, Master, you must help me banish her! I’ll pay any amount!” The old Taoist ignored him. He stood up, adjusted his robes, and then, to Asher’s shocked gaze, he respectfully knelt in my direction. “Greetings, Ghost King. Welcome to your rightful place.” 5. Asher’s sobs caught in his throat. He stared wide-eyed, utterly disbelieving what he was seeing. “Mas… Master? What are you doing? Why are you kneeling to her?”
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