Ten Thousand Soul Banner: Deceased, do you have any unfulfilled wishes?-Chapter 1155 - 1151: Fear

Zhou Zifu stared fixedly at the empty back seat, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel turning white, cold sweat breaking out on his back, even his breath shook with tremors.

He gasped for breath, raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead, muttering to himself, "I must have seen it wrong, definitely saw it wrong... I’ve been too tired recently, having hallucinations..."

He feigned calmness as he restarted the car, but as the wheels rolled out a few meters, he couldn’t help but glance into the rearview mirror again. The rearview mirror showed emptiness, which made him let out a breath of relief.

But at that moment, a familiar voice rang in his ear, "What are you looking at?"

"Ah~"

Zhou Zifu exclaimed in fright, sharply turning the steering wheel, the car scraped along the roadside guardrail and slid a long way before crashing heavily into a road sign and stopping.

He tumbled out of the car, sitting sprawled on the ground, looking back at the car, which was empty, not a shadow in sight.

The night wind rustled the tree shadows by the roadside, making them look like countless eyes staring at him, Zhou Zifu felt icy cold all over, chill seeping from even his bones.

He dared not go near the car again, scrambling to the roadside to hail a taxi, curled up in the back seat all the way, staring fixedly at the door, until he got back to his rented apartment, locked the windows and doors, and slid down the door panel to sit on the floor, slightly regaining composure.

Han Qiaoqi carrying her hands behind her, looked around the furnishings in the room, everything inside was so familiar, revealing traces of her life here.

After she died, Zhou Zifu kept all her things untouched.

Of course, it wasn’t out of love for her, but to show her parents, to establish an image of a devoted person.

Han Qiaoqi emerged from the room, seeing Zhou Zifu still sitting by the door, looking somewhat dazed.

"Zifu, I told you before, you should change shoes when you enter the house." Han Qiaoqi stood at the door, smiling gently.

Because of his original family, Zhou Zifu was careless in life, needing Han Qiaoqi’s reminders and corrections in every aspect, perhaps this was one of the sparks for conflict between them.

Zhou Zifu suddenly raised his head, following the voice, seeing Han Qiaoqi standing by the bedroom door, wearing her favorite pale green dress from before she died, her hair neatly combed, a gentle smile on her face, but in his eyes, that smile was more unnerving than a midnight ghost light.

"You... you stay away."

He shrank back using both hands and feet, his back firmly against the door panel, his voice shaking uncontrollably, "You’re already dead, you’re a ghost, don’t haunt me."

"Why shouldn’t I haunt you?"

Han Qiaoqi stepped lightly, her footsteps on the floor soundless, like a breeze floating to the center of the living room.

"You’re my boyfriend. This is my home. You see, this throw pillow was bought by me, the tablecloth also chosen by me..."

She raised her hand, fingers gently tracing across the glass vase on the coffee table, it was her favorite porcelain vase in life, once filled with fresh daisies, now empty.

"You used to say I wasted money on useless flowers, but why don’t you throw it away after I’m gone? Is it because you’re still thinking about me, right? Or is it to establish a devoted person image, to deceive my parents..."

Zhou Zifu’s pupils contracted sharply, his lips trembled, but he couldn’t utter a single coherent word.

He wanted to shut his eyes, yet Han Qiaoqi’s figure was so clearly etched in his mind, unable to be banished.

He wanted to cover his ears, but her voice clung to them, each word piercing his darkest corners.

"Zifu, look at you, the shoes still casually thrown at the door."

Han Qiaoqi’s voice suddenly softened, like she’d reminded him countless times before, with a hint of reproach.

"I’ve said so many times, shoes should be arranged neatly after taking them off, you always forget, is it because you think now that I’m gone, no one will care about you?"

Zhou Zifu instinctively looked to the side, his leather shoes were indeed tossed haphazardly, just like before.

But in the next moment, he saw a pair of delicate hands neatly arrange the shoes, meeting Han Qiaoqi bending to look at him.

"Ah."

Zhou Zifu cried out once more, clutching his head, curling into a ball, "Stop pretending to be a ghost, if you have the guts kill me, stop torturing me..."

"Kill you?"

Han Qiaoqi chuckled lightly, her voice full of mockery, "How could I bear to kill you, I love you so much, so I want you to live, to think of me day and night, to think of how you deceived me, how you harmed me..."

Her voice turned sharp and piercing, then suddenly vanished.

Zhou Zifu froze, cautiously lifting his head, looking around, the living room empty, as if everything just now was his hallucination.

He let out a breath, struggling to stand, opening the door to leave, he couldn’t stand being here for another moment, he needed to find a hotel to stay the night.

But at that moment, a hand lightly rested on his shoulder.

"Zifu, where are you going?"

Zhou Zifu’s whole body stiffened, slowly turning his head, seeing Han Qiaoqi standing behind him, smilingly watching him.

"You’re going out, remember to wear a hat, the sun outside is scorching."

Han Qiaoqi held a straw sunhat, its brim adorned with small shells.

That was bought last year when he followed Han Qiaoqi to the orchard to pick mangoes, she specially bought it for him.

"You said you didn’t like the heat, didn’t like wearing hats, but I think you looked quite nice with it on."

Han Qiaoqi gently placed the hat on his head, the icy touch sending a shiver down his spine.

The hat felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, pressing Zhou Zifu, leaving him breathless.

He wanted to tear off the hat, but his hands felt nailed down, immovable.

He could clearly smell the faint, coastal salty scent on the hat, mixed with Han Qiaoqi’s sunblock fragrance from when she was alive, a scent that once comforted him, now a haunting talisman.

Zhou Zifu’s tears suddenly flowed down, not from fear, but from a mix of guilt and terror, uncontrollable.

He recalled Han Qiaoqi’s kindness, the grievances she endured for him, remembering the moment’s hesitation when the car plunged into the sea, perhaps he once felt sincere, but that sincerity had long been consumed by greed and selfishness.

"I was wrong... Qiao Xi, I was wrong..."

He sobbed, incoherent, "I hurt you. I shouldn’t have deceived your parents... let me go, I won’t dare again, I’ll explain to your parents, I will..."

"Now you realize you’re wrong?"

Han Qiaoqi’s voice grew cold, the hat lifted by an invisible force and clamped heavily onto his head again.

"Too late."

Her figure vanished again, leaving only Zhou Zifu slumped on the ground in the living room, gasping for air, tears mixing with snot, a pitiful sight.

The sunhat remained on his head, its icy touch growing more distinct, as if Han Qiaoqi was still standing beside him.