50: Chapter 50 Don't Get on the Last Train No. 4

In the dead of night, people talk of ghosts; at midnight, ghosts talk of people.

The number 4 sounds like the word for death, so some of the older generation consider it an inauspicious number, avoiding it like a fierce tiger.

And my mother is one such person; since I was small, none of my belongings could be related to the number 4, and even the bus I took to school couldn't be one that had a 4 in its number.

And today, what I want to tell is a supernatural story related to the number 4.

My name is Guo Heng, and I am a graduate who just arrived in Tianhai City not long ago. Like the vast majority of graduates, I've been looking for a job ever since I graduated.

It's just that the industry for my major isn't doing well this year, so finding a job has been even harder than in previous years.

In order to find a job as quickly as possible, I ran all over every district in Tianhai City.

Until one night, after I came out of an interview at a company, it was already very late.

I arrived at a bus stop near the company, and under the dim streetlights, I waited all alone for the last bus on this route.

Because the company was located in a remote area, there weren't many people around, so I was the only person at the bus stop.

Behind the bus stop was a patch of wasteland overgrown with weeds as tall as a person, and once night fell, all kinds of sounds emanated from the grass.

The unknown is humanity's greatest fear; looking at that pitch-black wasteland, I couldn't help but feel terrified, my heart praying constantly for the last bus to arrive quickly.

After a long while, I saw a glimmer of light appear at the intersection in the distance, and I knew the last bus had finally arrived.

It's strange to say, but ever since I was small, my mother strictly forbade me from taking any bus routes containing the number 4, yet tonight's bus happened to be number 444.

However, as an undergraduate graduate who has received sixteen years of education, I didn't believe in superstitions like 4 meaning death, so I boarded the bus without hesitation.

Because it was the last bus, there were only the driver and myself in the entire vehicle.

This was my first time enjoying a 'luxury vehicle' worth millions all to myself; honestly, it felt pretty good.

At first, I paid attention to the bus route, and the surrounding environment was familiar from when I arrived in the afternoon.

After setting my mind at ease, because I hadn't eaten dinner yet, and people are prone to getting sleepy when hungry, I didn't know when I had drifted off to sleep.

I only knew that when I woke up, my neck felt extremely sore, and I was freezing all over; the driver must have set the air conditioning too low.

I looked up, but there were no air vents above my head.

Strange, then why was it so cold?

I looked around, and only then did I realize that, unbeknownst to me, quite a few people had boarded the bus.

These people included a grandfather and grandchild who were soaking wet, a young couple clinging to each other affectionately, and a middle-aged migrant worker covered in mud.

There was also a young mother with disheveled hair, wearing a red dress, cradling an infant in her arms.

Although there were quite a few people on the bus, it was abnormally quiet inside; the only sound I could hear was the roar of the engine.

I looked out the window; this was a very remote road, and there were absolutely no passing vehicles or pedestrians on the road.

If it weren't for the buildings still lining both sides of the road, I would have suspected that I had boarded a ghost bus—after all, isn't that how these stories are usually written?

After a few minutes, the bus stopped at a station, and an old man with a face etched with the wear and tear of life walked on carrying a rolled-up newspaper, then sat down beside me.

After the bus started moving, the old man unfolded the newspaper in his hand and began reading right beside me.

Watching how engrossed the old man was, I felt a bit curious; in this day and age with such advanced technology, there are actually still newspapers?

So, I pretended to sit up straight and lean back, casting my gaze toward the newspaper in the old man's hands.

'Life Evening News'

This was the title of the newspaper. I followed the title and continued reading; it recorded some events I had never heard of before.

'A brat beat up an old scrap collector in the street. In the process of trying to evade him, the old man and the brat both fell into the river and drowned. The old man's family has sued the child's family.'

'A fire broke out in a rental apartment in Tianhai City, resulting in two deaths. According to the investigation, the deceased were a married couple; they were found embracing each other, their bodies fused together.'

'During night construction at a certain work site, a middle-aged migrant worker lost his footing and fell into a pile of sand, only being discovered the next day when he was confirmed dead.'

'The city has cracked the largest child trafficking case, wiping out one child trafficking organization. During the raid, Sister Hong (pseudonym) escaped carrying an infant and was discovered in a field one day later.

According to the autopsy report, Sister Hong died from poisoning after being accidentally bitten by a venomous snake while fleeing. The infant in her arms was, when discovered, already...'

When I reached this point, the old man sitting next to me seemed to notice that I was also reading, and he suddenly raised his head to look at me.

I don't know if it was because of the backlighting, but I had the distinct feeling that the old man's eye sockets were pitch-black hollows, as if there were no eyes inside them at all.

I was immediately amused by my own thought; if a living, breathing person didn't have eyes, how could he possibly be reading a newspaper, right!

I awkwardly scratched my head and embarrassedly turned my head to look at the driver.

Suddenly, I felt as if something had dropped onto my thigh. I looked down, and it appeared to be a plump, white maggot.

Where would a maggot come from here?

I subconsciously looked up, and the dim streetlight by the road flashed across the old man's face. I could clearly see that the old man's eye sockets were crawling with writhing maggots.

I froze for a moment, but soon I screamed. Trembling all over, I ran to the side of the woman in red, pointed at the old man, and shouted at the passengers on the bus that he wasn't human.

The other passengers seemed to have been startled by me, and they all stood up one after another.

Just at this moment, I smelled a pungent stench coming from beside me; it was a bit like the smell of a dead rat, but not quite.

I turned my head to look at the woman beside me. By now, she had raised her head, her disheveled hair pulled back to both sides, revealing those blackish-purple lips and a deathly pale face.

My brain went buzzing; I suddenly remembered the Sister Hong I had seen in the newspaper who died from snake venom, and cold sweat instantly poured down from my forehead.

I snuck a glance at the infant in her arms; the baby's face was a bruised blue-purple, and it looked like it had long since lost its vitality.

The smell of dead rats all around became increasingly pungent, and the passengers on the bus had surrounded me at some point.

The soaking wet grandfather and grandchild dripping with water, the unrecognizable couple clinging to each other, the migrant worker with sand spilling out of his ears, mouth, and nose.

Everyone matched the events in the newspaper; I had truly boarded a ghost bus.

...

The story ended here. Sitting on a small stool waiting for the barbecue to be served, Shi Yimin curiously scrolled down, wanting to see if there was a follow-up.

After scrolling past an advertisement, he saw the first comment left by the original poster.

'My name is Guo Heng. Surrounded by fierce ghosts, how will I successfully survive? V me fifty, and I'll update the follow-up immediately.'

"Damn it, what a scam!" Shi Yimin couldn't help but curse.