Famine 181: [Space Business]

In the darkness, the little cat purred contentedly, licking away, mouthful by mouthful.

Ssshhh. Ssshhh.

In the darkness, Gu Ying’s faint voice sounded:

“In her room, there were piles and piles of boxes.”

“She never knew what was inside them…”

“The next day, she rushed downstairs, gently placed the small-bodied Milk Tea into her bike basket, rode her electric bike as fast as it could go, sped to the pet hospital. While riding, frantically making calls to ask, she finally found out—it was a raw ingredient for some kind of additive. Before it was diluted and processed, it was toxic to small animals… ah, and possibly not harmless to humans either. It was a product from a rather unregulated, small workshop.”

“No wonder, when I first moved in here, every time I asked about it, my relatives would clam up, telling me not to open them.”

“….”

“You can’t blame my relatives.”
“They lent me space to live in their cramped warehouse—they’ve already gone above and beyond, there’s no reason for resentment after such kindness.”

“Really, you can’t blame the owner of the donkey-meat sandwich shop, either.”
“I piled things in the corridor, disrupting the other tenants—it was normal for them to be upset.”

“I can only blame myself.”
“It was all my fault.”

Milk Tea had never been the type to scratch at boxes. Her legs bothered her; she couldn’t stand up to scratch. Gu Ying would regularly trim her claws.

But Gu Ying had taken such good care of her.

Loved, the little cat’s wounds grew over with new flesh, and she gradually adapted to life with one fewer leg. She began to bravely explore the world, using her small, imperfect body.

It should have been a good thing.

…But Gu Ying had failed to create for her a safe, open space for a cat to safely explore and grow.

Gu Ying had always walked a few paces behind Si Zhiyan.
But now, near Si Zhiyan, came Gu Ying’s repressed, breaking sobs.

The sound was just an arm’s reach away.

Yet Si Zhiyan could not see Gu Ying; he could only hear her voice continue.

“I wish I had a home…”

“If I had a job, if I had a place to live, if I hadn’t been living in my relatives’ warehouse, if I hadn’t piled so many things in the hallway that day…”
“If only I weren’t so useless… If only I had a home, Milk Tea wouldn’t have…”

Ssshhh, ssshhh.

With the joyous sound of the cat licking as background, Si Zhiyan switched on his flashlight, and to his horror, realized the space had become a giant maze of boxes. Boxes large and small stacked upon each other, towering high, seeming to have no end. The room was packed full. In every direction, there were narrow, meandering gaps between the boxes, layers upon layers stretching away.

There was no way out.

Just like this—in a cramped, suffocating corner of the big city—the whole life of a small cat was trapped.

There was no more time to waste. Si Zhiyan took a deep breath, looked around, and called, “Gu Ying, where are you? I have something to say to you.”

“If… if I had a home…”

“I just want a home… ah.”

The crying came so close, it was as if it sounded against Si Zhiyan’s left ear.

Slowly, slowly, he turned his head to the left.

He saw her.

Wedged in the gap between two boxes, pressed close to Si Zhiyan, was a distorted face.

—Gu Ying was embedded in the crack between the boxes.

She was flat.

That day, Gu Ying had rushed downstairs, borrowed an unrestricted electric scooter from Aunt Zhou, the broker, and sped off at the fastest pace she could manage.

She was a good kid; she’d never driven like that in her life. She was frantic, desperate, put on her headset, and while dialing her relatives to ask about the toxin that poisoned her little cat, she lost focus.

So, when an overworked truck ran a red light, she didn’t manage to dodge in time and was swept under its wheels.

As she wished, her body had almost turned into a sheet. Delicate features smashed flat, eyes burst, embedded in her shattered face, a horrific sight.
But now she could fit perfectly into the gap between the boxes. She suited the dense, expensive apartments of the big city, as well as this warehouse.

Gu Ying, a human paper doll, hugged the ghost cat with phosphorescent froth bubbling from its mouth, still licking its lips, and slowly smiled at Si Zhiyan.

Now, she had a home.

Gu Ying’s flat, paper-thin head poked out, her neck bending at an unnatural angle, spun 180 degrees. Her head faced backwards, long hair hanging down as she said to Si Zhiyan, “Sir… do you want a home too?”

Snap!

The boxes on either side of that narrow gap suddenly lurched inward.
The crack had always been narrow, and now all those looming boxes pressed in at once, trapping Si Zhiyan in between so tightly he couldn’t budge.

Like this, he’d be crushed flat!

Breathing had become difficult. Si Zhiyan strained to reach Gu Ying’s hand. “Miss Gu…”

Clang—clang—

The clock struck midnight.

No time.
There was no going back.

“Mr. Si…”
Gu Ying’s chilling voice curled, almost like a song.

Snap!

Si Zhiyan was squeezed violently between the boxes, feeling as if all his internal organs were tumbling together; he almost vomited.

But he had managed to grab Gu Ying’s hand.

In the dark, narrow, suffocating crack, Si finally managed to ask a question:

“—Do you like loft apartments?”

……

Eh?

On Gu Ying’s oddly flattened face there was a blank expression.

Si Zhiyan took a deep breath and rattled off:

“Do you like loft apartments? Say, a fifty square meter loft, with a mezzanine inside, actual floor space up to eighty square meters. Two floors, with your own bedroom upstairs, your parents’ room opposite. The living room on the lower floor is open, with Milk Tea’s cat tree and bed. No more boxes, no need to squeeze into an oily warehouse, and no dangerous things lying around.”

“Or maybe you prefer a studio apartment? Studios are safer, and though small, have everything you need. There’s a floor-to-ceiling window, a rug with a bean bag chair beside it, projector screen opposite. Milk Tea’s cat tree can sit by the window, so the little cat can gaze at the night view. In the evening, pull the curtains, and you can hold Milk Tea and watch a movie together.”

“A conventional apartment would be more spacious, though a bit more expensive. There’d be a dedicated kitchen and a coffee nook, and on weekends you could close the door, cook delicious cat food for the kitty, then blend yourself a strawberry milkshake. The scent would float out, and Milk Tea would circle by the door, meowing for you.”
“In the study, you could quietly sketch drawings, and your parents’ room could face the sun. Seal up the windows; Milk Tea’s litter box could go on the balcony, and a wall could be turned into a climbing frame for her. She could race around a space of a hundred square meters…”

“All of these homes—you can have them.”

……

For a moment, Gu Ying’s entire spectral presence seemed frozen in place.

Si Zhiyan had had a hazy sense of these bizarre inner worlds before. The consciousness inside them was bitter, sluggish and muddled, always immersed in pain.

But he knew—they could, at times, receive some information.

Gu Ying opened her mouth, murmuring instinctively, “I can’t afford them… I don’t have a job…”

Si Zhiyan interrupted her at once: “What a coincidence. We’re actually hiring—a building designer. Are you interested?”

“…Eh?”

Gu Ying gave a brief, curious, high-pitched sound.

“We’ve actually been worrying about this lately.” Si Zhiyan drew a difficult breath. “Miss Gu, you’re an architecture student, aren’t you? We have a lot of buildings and interior spaces here, in urgent need of design… If you can do it, the fees would be more than enough to cover your rent. You’d even be able to save some money, for buying your own place in the future.”

After a pause, he added:

“Room and board included, single dormitory, weekends off, nine to five, no overtime, great benefits.”

It was the truth. That was what the farm’s employees were offered. Si Zhiyan did his best to look as sincere as possible.

Most players faced with a ghostly option would:
Draw a sword to fight, shapeshift, make a run for it, try to outwit…

Si Zhiyan’s approach:
How about house-hunting?
And post a job ad.

There was less and less air; it was just too tight to breathe. Si Zhiyan, straining, reached toward Gu Ying. “Would you like to apply for the position? Please, hand me your resume.”

Snap.

The ghostly shadow of the cat slipped from Gu Ying’s eerie flattened hand, landing lightly, and licked its paws.

Gu Ying suddenly snapped awake.

Bang, bang, bang, bang…

All the boxes moved outward again, releasing Si Zhiyan. He collapsed to the floor, his chest burning fiercely with pain that felt like an explosion. Keeping still, he closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he weathered the pain, then he straightened his collar.

Gu Ying, paper-thin, drifted forward like a sleepwalker, her twisted limbs swaying.

Si Zhiyan followed.
He remembered Gu Ying’s resume was by the door.

The instant Gu Ying’s hand closed on the resume folder, the noise of the outside world rushed back in.

The clock spun, daylight grew, light streaming through the windows. The endless boxes disappeared like a dream.

They were back in a stuffy afternoon, standing together by the doorway.

Si Zhiyan glanced up at the calendar on the wall.
A day had passed. It was now eight o’clock in the morning of the second day.

So, this so-called “five-day” deadline was five opportunities to trigger a paranormal encounter.
Each time the story was triggered, midnight would immediately arrive. During this period, they had to remain in the room. Only once the haunting was resolved would daylight return.

Holding her resume, Gu Ying’s hand trembled slightly as she muttered in confusion, “Huh…? What did I just… wait, what happened…?”

She turned around in a daze, lifted her face to Si Zhiyan. “You… what was it you just said?”

“Ah, yes. I just told you…”

Si Zhiyan took a deep breath, unbuttoned his collar, and smiled sincerely.

“…We’re recruiting.”

He reached into his trenchcoat pocket, took out a glass jar, and smiled as he said:

“Come, let me show you around the project. And… your dormitory.”

Thunk.

He set the mouth of the jar atop one of the boxes.

In an instant, the sealed space inside the jar unfolded like a little world all its own.

The sky was a clear, dazzling blue, with clouds like cotton candy drifting quietly above. The ground was laid with solid planks and stretched into an endless lawn.

A clean, spacious, slightly fantastical high-rise towered into the air. And a young girl dressed in a mage’s robe, hair loose about her shoulders, stood at the door, arms folded, gazing up in contemplation.

“Child!” Si Zhiyan called out.

The girl turned, silky black hair falling to reveal a gentle, lively face. “Ah, big brother!”
Her left eye sparkled; her right was hidden beneath her bangs, yet somehow it suited her, even adding to her beauty.

Si Zhiyan went over and ruffled her hair with a smile. “How did the assignment I gave you go?”

“Yes, big brother.” She nodded, stretching out her hand as she explained, “Just as you said, I used the power of Tianman Paradise to expand the space within the [Tiramisu Candy Jar], and cleared out all the desserts inside… In the end, inside this jar, I created a perfectly flat space of 3,000 square meters, with a height of 1,000 meters.”

“As instructed, I borrowed your [Imagination Brush] to generate a preset high-rise residence within.”

“It’s just…”

Si Zhiyan asked, “Just?”

The girl dropped her gaze, considering. “Hmm. The imaginative world doesn’t really suit such high-rise buildings—the preset from the High Priest should be just a prototype. It’s structurally safe, but the interior isn’t suitable for living; it’s just an empty shell, flat floors and columns, no dividing walls at all.”

“You’ll need to find a real builder to take charge of the interior design.”

Si Zhiyan smiled and turned toward Gu Ying.

Gu Ying, holding her cat, gazed up, tears blurring her vision, at this brand-new, beautiful, spacious apartment tower.