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My Deceased Friend Speaks to Me
墨書 Inktalez
She began to see Nanfeng appearing randomly on every stranger more and more frequently.
Nanfeng's smile, with her upper and lower lips gently trembling together, hesitated for a moment before the corners of her lips curved upward, revealing a gap between her lips that showed half a row of teeth. Her lips twitched nervously, afraid that others would catch a whiff of the odor from the urine bag hidden beneath her clothes, a smell that had seeped into her skin and was, for her, omnipresent.
Nanfeng's running was also unique; her belt was tightly fastened around her waist, and a long coat wrapped around her slender body tightly. With her right hand resting on her abdomen, she ran with her head down, panting heavily. After running for a while, she would look up at you with an apologetic smile, fearing that you might be impatient. Then she would continue to run with her head down again, glancing at you every so often—she needed to see you four or five times over the length of a crosswalk to show you that she was trying hard to reach you. She would apologize and ask you to wait just a little longer until she finally got close enough to stop abruptly, maintaining what she considered a safe distance between the two of you.
Then there was Nanfeng's bell, silver and tied with a red string around her right wrist. With the slightest movement of her arm, the clapper would strike against the metal wall, producing a series of crisp sounds. Because of its high pitch and echoing quality, it could penetrate through noise and reach people's ears. This bell was inseparable from her and added a touch of childlike innocence to her. She had once complained that it looked too childish but had never taken it off.
The old-fashioned digital watch that she bought with Nanfeng back in the second year of junior high was quite ugly—a big black lump that could tell time, set alarms, and count down. It was fully functional; Ke Li's watch was stored back home while Nanfeng wore hers all the time.
Nanfeng's fisherman's hat was one of her trademarks—a black hat with a diagonal checkered pattern that covered her eyes when worn. When she couldn’t see the world, she wouldn’t be seen by it either; it was like armor.
Nanfeng had carried the same deep green backpack for many years; it was large and clumsy, like a small house resting on her shoulders. Her voice was soft and hoarse as she called out joyfully, “ Lihua … Lihua …” as if nine years ago on some random morning, she had waved at her against the flow of students entering school saying, “Over here! Hurry up! Have you finished your homework?”
So many details about Nanfeng appeared randomly on strangers at any time and place, unexpectedly jumping in front of Ke Li, having an effect akin to soul-snatching that left Ke Li dazed for quite some time.
Nanfeng had died two weeks ago; her body lay in a narrow alley less than two hundred meters from the apartment where Ke Li lived with her boyfriend Mi LIangbao. According to preliminary police conclusions, Nanfeng had been robbed before she died. She fought back fiercely, which escalated the criminal's actions quickly; during the struggle, she was accidentally killed by the assailant. The alley was remote and narrow without surveillance cameras nearby, so the suspect had yet to be identified.
The police seemed to imply that Nanfeng had brought this upon herself by complying with demands for money without resistance.
But Ke Li knew very well that it wasn’t herself who caused Nanfeng ’s death; it wasn’t that criminal either—it was her best friend who had grown up alongside Nanfeng, it was her—Ke Li!
It was she who made Nanfeng, who walked unsteadily with a urine bag hanging from her side, travel dozens of miles late at night to find her in the apartment without knowing what for.
How much of a jerk she was!
That day when Nanfeng called, she had been overwhelmed with work—preparing data analysis results for a presentation required by her supervisor while also needing to get materials ready for projects interfacing with clients—when suddenly Nanfeng ’s call came through. Upon answering, she found herself irritated by how haltingly Nanfeng spoke.
“What is it? Just say it clearly; I really don’t have time for idle chatter right now. Why don’t you come over tonight so we can talk slowly? I’m hanging up now.”
She hadn’t even given a specific time.
What had Nanfeng said on the phone?
For days now, Ke Li had racked her brain trying to figure out what monumental issue had cost Nanfeng her life. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember anything from that conversation lasting less than two minutes except for a few prompts urging Nanfeng. She couldn’t even recall what Nanfeng ’s voice sounded like.
With hands on her hips, she paced back and forth in the living room entrance, slapping herself on the forehead repeatedly as if trying to extract Nanfeng ’s frail voice from the crevices of her mind so that she could hear what troubled her heart; perhaps then Nanfeng wouldn’t have died.
“Enough,” said Mi LIangbao, grabbing hold of her wrist with one hand while pulling her into his embrace with the other. “If you can’t remember it, then those vague statements lack memorable content. Even text communication on WeChat is hard to retain if there’s no significant information. Your attention was focused on work at that time; there’s no way you could remember what she said.”
“But how do you know there wasn’t any significant information in what she said?”
Mi LIangbao seemed to ponder his words carefully before pausing for several seconds before explaining methodically to Ke Li, “You mentioned that she hesitated while speaking; doesn’t that imply that what she wanted to express was difficult for her? If she couldn’t articulate it over the phone—even if you patiently tried to help—she wouldn’t be able to say it. The best way would be face-to-face communication. So regardless of your attitude during the call or how long it took, the end agreement would still be the same: meet in person to talk. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
People often get stuck in their own thoughts by skipping over intermediate steps and instinctively banging their heads against an impenetrable wall at their destination only to end up hurt. However, if they could clarify their thoughts and untangle their reasoning while guiding them through the maze in between—helping them understand their destination lies in another direction—their mental knots might just unravel.
When the knot in the heart is untied, one will encounter the next knot.
Ke Li was almost trapped in a mire of despair, filled with regret and self-blame. Slapping herself was a light punishment; she grabbed her hair and squatted on the ground, wishing she could tear her scalp off. With her head buried in her knees, she held her breath, compressing her lungs, forcing the murky air in her chest up into her throat. Her blood vessels were engorged, her face flushed, yet none of it alleviated the pain in her heart.
She hated herself for being careless and forgetting the appointment with Nanfeng. Around ten o'clock that night, a colleague asked her, "Aren't you leaving? How late do you plan to work? You can't finish everything in one day. Your overworking makes us feel very passive." She forced a smile and casually replied while typing away at her proposal. She had always preferred to complete a task efficiently once started, leaving just a bit for the next day. Did it bother her?
At that moment, Nanfeng was being brutally stabbed by assailants, his intestines bleeding as the barbed end of the knife protruded from his abdomen, hanging outside. She was still busy with her proposal.
In fact, she could have left on time. Even after dinner and a shower, she would have had plenty of time to meet Nanfeng at the subway station exit. If she had done so, Nanfeng would not have died.
She clearly remembered that just as she was about to finish her proposal, an unfamiliar call came in. The caller claimed to be the Captain of the Criminal Investigation Team in Haidian District. It sounded like a scam at first, and she was about to hang up when she heard the name "Wei Nanfeng." She pressed the phone back to her ear.
"You are her only emergency contact. According to protocol, relatives need to identify the body to confirm the deceased's identity. What is your relationship with the deceased?"
"We... grew up together."
Ke Li began to fall into a nightmare, stuck in the day Nanfeng passed away, endlessly reliving everything that happened that day. Every scene, every person, every detail felt as real as memories, making it hard for her dazed mind to distinguish between dream and reality.
That day, she sat at her workstation, sunlight slanting through the window and illuminating her face. The central air conditioning above hummed loudly; she felt alternately cold and hot. A mountain of documents piled beside her while her supervisor kept urging her on... She lifted her head in a daze, feeling like a thick blob of glue. Wanting to clear her mind, she asked her supervisor for a straightforward answer: "Sister Meng, did my best friend die?"
The supervisor did not answer her; Nanfeng stood beside the supervisor, smiling at her with compassion and affection like a sacred mother.
Ke Li opened her eyes, feeling an unusual calm within herself.
After this dream, she began encountering Nanfeng in reality.
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