The rusty gate was shut tight.
A rainbow arch with peeling paint. A fountain with no water. A merry-go-round that would never spin again.
No one had set foot in here for a very long time. Chen Ge walked around and finally stopped in front of a storage room door.
The room was covered in mold. Tossed in the corner was a tattered Doraemon cartoon costume.
"Hey? Are you still there?"
Chen Ge had never hung up the phone, but until now no one on the other end had responded.
He walked into the storage room, picked up the cartoon character suit from the floor, and held the Doraemon head in one hand.
"I'll keep the costume safe for you. Get some rest, and I'll wake you when dawn comes."
Chen Ge found a large bag nearby and stuffed the cartoon costume inside. While folding it, he discovered a photograph tucked inside the pocket on Doraemon's belly.
It seemed to have been taken in a hospital. A young father was saying something to a doctor, and beside him, a emaciated boy was hiding behind the young man's back.
He put the photograph away. When Chen Ge looked at his phone again, he saw the call had already been disconnected.
"I forgot to ask his name." Chen Ge thought back and realized that neither the news reports nor the landlady had ever mentioned the man's name.
It was as if the man lived inside the cartoon costume, and all people knew was that there was a Doraemon who loved children at the amusement park.
Holding the phone, Chen Ge stared at the number on the screen.
Two calls made, two different lives, two different dead.
"What exactly does this number mean? Why did every victim dial this phone before they died? And how am I supposed to find the ghost I drew?"
Chen Ge thought about it but came up with nothing. He decided to keep calling.
Holding the large bag with the cartoon costume in one hand, he used the other to dial the number.
"Statistically speaking, the ghost I draw this time should be more powerful than
After three or four rings, the call finally connected. Drawing on the experience of the first two calls, Chen Ge spoke immediately: "Hello, is there anything I can help you with?"
The other end was noisy. Chen Ge heard the sound of a train passing by.
After the train noise faded, the other end went quiet again. He could faintly hear children reciting something.
"Hello?" Chen Ge walked out of the Children's Kingdom park carrying the bag, hailed a taxi, and told the driver to just head forward.
A whistling wind came through the phone. Chen Ge didn't press the other person. He waited patiently, and after an unknown amount of time, violent coughing suddenly erupted from the phone.
"Are you... alright? Are you feeling unwell?" Chen Ge's voice was warm, the kind that could give anyone strength at any moment. "Is there anything you need me to do?"
"Thanks, but there's no need." The man on the other end sounded as if charcoal had been stuffed down his throat. His voice was horribly raspy, and each word came with a violent cough.
"You don't look well at all. Don't stay out in the open—go home quickly. Or tell me where you are, and I can take you to the hospital." Chen Ge had reflected on the previous two calls. Both times, he'd arrived only after the call had disconnected. This time, he intended to find the other person before the call ended.
"I appreciate the thought, but there's no point going to the hospital. They can't cure what I have." The man coughed for a long while before recovering. He walked slowly forward, and the wind was rather loud.
"The hospital can't cure it?"
"That's right. I spent a long time in the hospital, but the illness just wouldn't go away. I've even come to think it's not really a disease at all—it's become a part of my body."
Chen Ge didn't quite understand the man's words. "Brother, what exactly is your illness?"
"Lung cancer. Late stage."
The man spoke as though he were describing something utterly mundane, but Chen Ge felt his heart skip a beat. "Then why are you out here alone? Where's your family? Let me take you back. The wind is strong out here."
"It is quite windy today." The man coughed every few words. His physical condition was terrible—he seemed as though he might collapse at any moment. "I snuck out without my family knowing."
A late-stage lung cancer patient who had slipped away from his family in secret—Chen Ge immediately thought of the protagonists from the previous two calls and realized something was very wrong. "That's extremely dangerous. Can you at least tell me where you are? I won't interfere with any of your decisions—I'd just like to walk with you. How about that?"
"I can manage walking on my own. Actually, ever since I found out I had lung cancer, there's been one place I've been wanting to visit."
"One place?"
"It's built high up. To get there, you have to climb a lot of stairs."
"You want to go to the Jiujiang World Trade Center? Why there?" Chen Ge rarely went into the city center, but he knew the World Trade Center was the tallest building in Jiujiang. From the top, you could see the entire city spread out below.
At the thought, Chen Ge immediately gestured to the driver, telling him to head toward the Jiujiang World Trade Center.
The man didn't answer Chen Ge's question. He kept coughing—just hearing it through the phone was uncomfortable enough.