Chapter 367

Chapter 367

◎The Last Meeting◎

Xiao Ye scrolled through his tablet for ages before finally finding the news: "Naonao, check this out—it’s gotta be that accident. Four years ago on Huasheng Road, a bus swerved to avoid a multi-car pileup ahead but ended up crashing into the guardrail, flipping over, and plunging into the lake—seven dead, nineteen injured."

"One of the deceased was Sheng Siyuan's mother, Hong Qiaozhen."

Ji Nanxing opened the files retrieved by the Management Bureau: "Sheng Siyuan’s dad passed away when she was five. Her mom, Hong Qiaozhen, pulled her up all by herself. The two were tight, leaning on each other for years. No surprise Sheng Siyuan’s still hung up on it."

Xiao Ye was curious: "How’d she get that rhino horn incense? Did they track it down?"

Ji Nanxing shook his head: "We’d need to grill Sheng Siyuan about that. These days, nobody’s making this stuff new anymore. There’s probably only a few left who even know how to craft it. Sometimes you might luck out and find some in old stashes."

Xiao Ye: "Wait—is that rhino horn incense really made from real rhino horn?"

Ji Nanxing: "Not exactly, but it does have rhino horn as an ingredient. It’s mixed with special herbs and spices, ground into powder, then reshaped."

So back then, you could whip this up, but now? No way. Wild rhino horn isn’t used in incense anymore—no matter how bad you want it, you can’t make it.

Xiao Ye toed off his slippers and flopped onto the bed, sighing as he flicked through the article again. "What do you think she’ll choose?"

Either way, it’s a gut-wrenching call.

Ji Nanxing: "Up to her. Whatever she decides, we respect it."

Sheng Siyuan was stuck on the same question—how to choose.

In her tiny rented one-bedroom, Sheng Siyuan stared blankly at the small box on the coffee table.

Inside was just a single stick of incense, about the length of a finger. She’d grabbed the little incense box on impulse once because she liked its soothing scent but couldn’t find the same blend again. Instead of lighting it, she had kept it out as a deodorizer.

Lately, with summer heating up and people wearing lighter clothes, one of her coworkers reeked to high heaven. With the heat, the stench got worse. Even perfume just made it worse—the mix would knock you sideways.

That day, she had unfinished work, and her apartment was without power until after ten. So she camped out at the office to finish her tasks—AC beat sweating it out at home.

With the office empty, she cracked a window to clear the air, but she still caught whiffs of her coworker’s stench. So she finally lit one of those precious sticks she’d been saving.

The scent was calming, like a weight lifting off. Everything felt normal—she finished her work, turned off the lights, locked up, and headed out. It was just before eleven, so she gambled on catching the last bus.

Of course there was no last bus at that hour. She had no choice but to book a ride-hailing car.

While waiting, a bus rolled in out of nowhere. For a second, she was thrilled—maybe she’d gotten lucky and caught the final ride. But the moment she saw the battered, weathered look of the vehicle, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

She was sure she was seeing a ghost. She’d heard all the creepy tales about phantom night buses. As she debated whether to bolt, she spotted someone inside—her mother, dressed in the same clothes she wore the day she died in that crash four years ago.

She stood outside; her mother sat inside, like the bus had taken four years to finally show up.

In that instant, nothing else mattered. Even if the bus was full of ghosts, even if it was all in her head, even if those spirits wanted her life—she was ready to give it.

Going it alone was wearing her down. She was hanging by a thread.

Once aboard the ghost bus, Sheng Siyuan realized it wasn’t a hallucination or some vengeful spirit trying to grab a replacement. It really was her mother—she could even smell that familiar scent.

But no matter how much she called out or tried to talk, her mother didn’t respond. Before long, something invisible nudged her off the bus as it started moving again.

Still, just seeing her mother again filled her with joy. She could tell herself Mom was just working late—busy during the day, but they could meet at night. Just thinking about it had her counting down to nighttime every evening.

She had no clue why she could see—let alone step onto—that ghost bus. It’s not like she’d never pulled late nights before. Soon enough, she put two and two together—it had to be the incense.

So she tried a second time and successfully waited for the ghostly bus again—she couldn’t bear to stop.

But no matter how much incense she burned, each use diminished the supply, and what remained wouldn’t last much longer.

Should she just see her mother briefly, exchange a few words as before, or spend a full night with her properly before never meeting again? Either way, it meant enduring once more the pain of losing her only family.

The next day, Sheng Siyuan took the day off. She rarely asked for time away, but some of her older colleagues were sympathetic—they knew she had lost her mother years ago and had been living alone ever since. The company only checked if she was sick. Once they confirmed she was okay, they approved her leave.

Sheng Siyuan sat on the balcony all day, watching people come and go, watching the sunset, seeing the neighborhood go from empty to filled with children laughing and playing. Before nightfall, she replied to Ji Nanxing’s message.

Ji Nanxing and Xiao Ye soon arrived at Sheng Siyuan’s rented apartment. They didn’t linger on their surroundings, focusing only on the small wooden box she brought out.

Holding the box tightly, Sheng Siyuan said, “This is all I have left. I bought these incense sticks while traveling before. I had no idea they could summon spirits. Later I looked into it, but I still couldn’t be sure if this was the legendary rhino horn incense. But since it let me see my mother, I used it.”

Ji Nanxing closed the lid and handed the box to Xiao Ye, then gave Sheng Siyuan a talisman. “Put this somewhere safe first. After tonight, you can carry it with you. It’s not good for the living to see ghosts, let alone every night. If your mother hadn’t been protecting you, just being out like this could make your soul slip away.”

If the soul slipped out and couldn’t return in time, it would be fatal.

Sheng Siyuan asked, “You said my mother was protecting me… Has she been following me all this time?”

Ji Nanxing shook his head. “Your mother died suddenly. Those who pass away from illness usually have time to prepare mentally, but sudden deaths often leave behind stronger unresolved ties—like an unreturned home, unfinished business, or someone they never got to see. Your mother must have had such a tie, which is why she occasionally followed that ghostly bus back to the living world. Once she saw you, she latched onto you—but she hasn’t been with you constantly.”

Sheng Siyuan murmured, “My mother’s unresolved tie…”

Xiao Ye asked, “Where was your mother going or what was she doing that day?”

Sheng Siyuan lowered her head and spoke after a long pause. “That day… my mother was bringing me food.”

The crash occurred just steps from the bus stop near her office building—only across a bridge. But her mother never made it across.

Back then, she had just graduated and was interning at this company. As a new employee, she was full of youthful enthusiasm. The company paid based on performance—the more work she did, the more she earned. Fresh out of college, she was already making over ten thousand yuan a month, and with a little effort, twenty or thirty thousand was within reach.

Faced with such temptation, she couldn’t resist. She pulled endless overtime, drafting proposals, managing projects, chasing targets.

At lunch, she ate with coworkers, but when evening came and others left early, she’d just grab a quick bite from a convenience store.

When her mother found out, she sometimes brought homemade meals.

That day, her mother had come with a thermos of dumplings. From her office, Sheng Siyuan could even see the bridge.

When the accident happened, her coworkers gathered by the windows. She felt uneasy—her mother had said she was bringing food, and the route required crossing that bridge around that time. Seeing the crash unfold, she immediately called her mother to check if she was safe.

But the call would go unanswered forever.

Lingering ghosts meant death, and death meant tragedy. Even after handling many cases with Ji Nanxing, Xiao Ye still struggled to face the raw grief of losing a loved one. He looked away, at a loss for words.

Ji Nanxing didn’t offer empty comfort either. Some wounds couldn’t be soothed with words—it was better to act.

“Do you know your mother’s birth details?”

Sheng Siyuan nodded and went to fetch a talisman from her room. “I pray for my mother every year. This has her birth details—I asked a master to write it, saying that if I placed it under an eternal lamp, my mother would have a blessed next life.”

Ji Nanxing glanced at the talisman but didn’t say it was just ordinary paper with no real effect. People needed something to cling to for solace, and if it brought Sheng Siyuan peace, there was no need to shatter that belief.

He took out a blank talisman, wrote her mother’s name and birth details, then lit a stick of incense in the burner. “Once this burns, your mother will come. I’ll give you one night to talk properly. At dawn, I’ll send her away—and once she leaves, she won’t return to the living world. This will be your final goodbye in this lifetime. Think about what you want to say.”

Summoning talisman, summoning incense, birth details, and a strand of her daughter’s hair—almost the moment Ji Nanxing lit the incense, Sheng Siyuan’s mother, Hong Qiaozhen, appeared at the apartment door.

Sensing the Yin energy seeping in, Ji Nanxing walked over and opened the door. “Say your goodbyes properly. I know it’s hard to let go, but no matter how much you don’t want to, it’s time for her to leave.”

Sheng Siyuan looked at the figure standing by the door and burst into tears. “Mom, you’re back. Mom, I’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

Xiao Ye couldn’t see the lingering ghost, but he knew someone must be there. Hugging the wall, he quietly slipped out with Ji Nanxing, leaving space and time for the mother and daughter.

Seeing her daughter’s swollen eyes, Hong Qiaozhen’s own eyes turned red. “Still crying like a baby at your big age.”

Sheng Siyuan wiped her tears. “Mom, can you see me now?”

Hong Qiaozhen sighed. “I can see you. I’ve heard everything you’ve said to me every day.”

Sheng Siyuan broke down sobbing. “Then why didn’t you answer me? No matter how much I called, you never responded!”

Hong Qiaozhen’s heart ached. “I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn’t move on.”

She wanted her daughter to live—truly live. She feared that if she answered, her daughter might do something reckless and try to follow her.

Sheng Siyuan wept bitterly. Years of sorrow and loneliness had built up inside her, and in the moment she saw her mother, it felt as though she’d finally found someone to lean on. She wanted to cry out all the pain of those lonely years.

Looking around the apartment, which seemed much the same as when she'd left, Hong Qiaozhen said, “You never straighten the sofa. How long has it been since you changed the cushion covers? The weather’s been nice lately—remember to air out your sheets and blankets. Don’t use them right away after airing; lay them out to cool first. You always run hot.”

She walked into the kitchen. “Sisi, come here. Open the fridge for me. There must be expired stuff in there. And those condiments—are they still good? Have you checked the dates?”

Sheng Siyuan followed obediently and opened the fridge. It wasn’t full—just a few jars of condiments that had expired who-knows-when.

“These are all bad,” Hong Qiaozhen said. “Grab the trash can and throw them out. Check the freezer too—any meat that’s been frozen too long should go, too. Frozen food shouldn’t stay longer than three months.”

As she worked, Sheng Siyuan murmured, “I’ll clean up later. Mom, let’s just talk.”

“There’s probably still delivery available now,” Hong Qiaozhen replied. “Order some flour and meat—I’ll teach you how to make dumplings. You wanted to learn how to make braised pork knuckles with soybeans? There’s no big secret recipe. It’s just about the seasonings. I’ll show you.”

Looking at her daughter with a pang, she continued, “Before, I thought I’d have more time—plenty of years left to take care of you. Who knew life could change in an instant? Getting to see you like this is gift enough. From now on, you’ll need to live well on your own. Whether you fall in love or get married, that’s your choice. But remember, no matter what kind of life you choose, be happy. Don’t settle for less than you deserve.”

Nodding through her tears, Sheng Siyuan followed her mother from room to room, learning everything from stain remover tricks to storing thick quilts, how to prevent oil splatter when cooking, and how to keep soup fresh overnight.

These were things she could’ve easily looked up online—but being taught by her mother made all the difference.

Under her mother’s guidance, Sheng Siyuan rolled out dough, mixed fillings, and wrapped dumplings while a pot of pork knuckle simmered on the stove.

The warm glow of the lights, the steaming stove, the cool summer breeze cutting through the heat, and her mother’s familiar nagging—it turned out happiness could be so simple, yet so hard to hold onto.