When I was six years old, I first discovered I could see things that didn’t belong to this world.
My grandfather passed away that year, and we moved into his home in the Grain Bureau Residential Compound.
A week after he died, I saw him at home again. He was leaning on a dragon-head cane, tottering toward the bathroom all by himself.
I followed him, only to find the bathroom completely empty.
I told my dad about it, and he slapped me hard across the face.
Grandma said I was seeing “unclean things.”
But later, I realized I could see more than just the dead; I could see the living, too.
For instance, Aunt Chen from the compound had been away on a business trip to Beijing for several days. Yet one afternoon, I ran into her in the stairwell-just a fleeting glimpse.
I ran off to tell the adults who were outside enjoying the cool air. As a result, when Aunt Chen finally did come home, she and her husband had a massive row.
