"A ghost is merely an emotion"—Preface. 

This is an absolutely true story, so true that every detail stands up to scrutiny. But whether it's true or not doesn't matter now. What matters is that this thrilling story is over, and I'm still alive. Although these days I still can't figure out whether I made the right choice for my life, I absolutely refuse to return to that terrifying scene and face the choice again. Oh my god, I never want to be associated with such a life-threatening situation again. I've had enough. 

It was the summer of 2002. I was working part-time at a plastic window factory. I earned 600 yuan a month, using only 300 yuan for living expenses and saving the rest for the winter when work was slow. I wasn't married, and even though I was 35 and half my life had passed, I still had no home. I had no choice but to live in the factory—even taking on a night watchman. The work at the plastic window factory wasn't strenuous, and it didn't require much skill. I could still do it. In my more than ten years of working, this was the eleventh (or twelfth?) job I'd found. The boss was kind; he didn't delay our wages or scold us. I planned to stay here for the long haul. 

I finished work early that day, and my coworkers had all left, leaving me alone in the deserted factory yard. The setting sun shone brightly above the office window, and the yard, after a day of roaring machinery, was remarkably quiet once it stopped. I walked into the office, picked up the mop, and began cleaning the floor tiles as usual. 

As I mopped, I pondered what to have for dinner. Spinach, tofu, and steamed buns all day were so bland they left my mouth. It was time for a better meal, at least a bowl of tofu pudding (no matter how expensive it was, I couldn't afford it). But alas. There was no tofu pudding for dinner, and a single serving of anything else, like steamed buns or pan-fried dumplings, would cost me half a day's wages. I couldn't bear it. 

As I was lost in thought, I heard a soft click from the quartz clock on the wall. It must have been five o'clock. A cool breeze brushed past me, and my hair stood on end. Then, something crimson flashed past the edge of my vision. With a start, I froze, half-hunched over, mop in hand, waiting. 

Nothing happened, and the room was utterly silent. That thing couldn't have been a mouse, since it was bigger than a cat. Besides, it didn't make any scurrying noises. I slowly raised my head. I was alone in the room, nothing else. Unless it had vanished into the wall? Was my vision blurring? 

I wasn't reassured. Something was clearly amiss. Half-hunched over, I pondered for a moment before realizing it. The office was simply too quiet. The back wall of the office borders a residential area. Normally, the sounds of hawkers hawking in the alleys, children running, couples arguing, passersby chatting, residents blasting music, and the dripping of a loosely closed faucet in the office kitchen are constant, making it difficult to find a moment of peace. But now, the entire room was utterly silent, as if all sound had been muffled. Even a cemetery wouldn't be so quiet; at least there's the sound of the wind. 

The unusual stillness in the room made me nervous. My legs gave way, and I had to cling to the mop handle to steady myself. This happened to me whenever I was in danger. My mind was in a tizzy. I was certain something dangerous was happening, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. Then, a moment later, I felt the chill of the room grow thicker, as if I were in a crypt. It suddenly dawned on me that there weren't just me in the room, but others! 

I think my face paled immediately, the air so stifling I almost fainted. The open door lay just to my left. Outside, I could see the dusk deepening, a peaceful scene. I only needed three steps to get outside, to safety. But my legs were as weak as shoelaces; I couldn't even take a single step. Worse still, I could feel the man staring at me from very close! 

My heart was pounding. If it kept beating like this, it would burst. No, I had to calm myself and get out of here as quickly as possible. The sooner the better. Who knew what would happen if I stayed any longer? I kept repeating to myself, "Calm down, calm down," as I pricked up my ears and listened carefully, not missing a single sound. Fortunately, the room remained dead silent. My heartbeat slowed a little, my legs gradually regained strength. Another ten counts, and I was about to run screaming. 

Then, something moved in my field of vision. Startled, I looked closely and saw a liquid leaking from the mop. I clearly remembered that the mop was wrung out very dry, with very little moisture in it. And now the liquid was more like egg white. I froze, watching the bright red liquid ooze from the mop. At the same time, I smelled a strong, fishy odor. It seemed familiar. Yes, it was the slaughterhouse. I'd smelled it before. So, it was blood!