Chapter 107

Chapter 107

A few days later, Huahua came looking for Qin Song again, this time carrying a bag of sunflower seeds.

“Brother Hai, have some seeds.”

Qin Song said, “I’m at work. I don’t eat on the job.”

Huahua said, “You’re really strict. You still have ten minutes before you get off work. Chat with me for a bit. The boss isn’t around anyway.”

Qin Song asked, “Have you collected a bunch of stories these past few days?”

Huahua nodded. “Of course. This is my real job, after all.”

Qin Song asked, “Which platform do you write on?”

Huahua eyed him warily. “What do you want?”

Qin Song said, “Just curious. I want to see what you write.”

Huahua gasped. “Oh! You’re not planning to give me a malicious one-star review, are you?”

Qin Song laughed. “How could I possibly do that?”

While tossing the sunflower seed shells into the trash can, Huahua said, “I’m not telling you. Gotta keep it mysterious.”

Qin Song said, “Actually, I’ve got a few novel apps on my phone too. I searched your pen name yesterday, and couldn’t find you.”

Huahua said, “There are so many novel apps out there. All that proves is that you have no eye for these things and didn’t download the one I use.”

Qin Song replied, “Oh, is that so?”

Huahua changed the subject. “Hey, I just saw something super soap-operatic at the front desk. Want to hear it?”

Qin Song said, “No.”

Huahua said, “Even if you don’t want to hear it, I’m telling you anyway. Just now an old guy came in – there were hardly any hairs left on his head… Guess what? He came with two women. They were both young and pretty, but they were absolutely drenched in perfume. One whiff and you could tell it was cheap as hell. It made my throat hurt…”

Qin Song said, “That’s normal. Every hotel has stuff like that.”

Huahua curled her lip. “Wow, you have a pretty high tolerance, huh? Sometimes I feel like you know a lot more than you let on. Like you’re not as honest and good-natured as you look.”

Qin Song didn’t respond.

Huahua gave a sleazy grin. “Honestly, I really wanted to follow them just now and press my ear to their door to listen to what was going on… The story I’d hear that way would definitely be more real, more colorful. Too bad I didn’t do it. That’d be a little too perverted. I won’t allow myself to do something like that.”

Qin Song said, “How is that even a story? How are you supposed to write that into a novel?”

Huahua said, “I could write a horror novel about a hotel, telling stories about the terrifying things that happen in hotel rooms.”

Qin Song frowned.

Huahua went on, “There’s a trick to it. If you’re writing a horror story about a hotel, you can’t write separate things happening in every room. You have to focus on one room and tell the stories of different guests who all stayed there. For example, that Room 302 the old guy took those two girls to just now – I’m just using it as an example, but I could build a whole story from that…”

The moment Qin Song heard the words “302,” his pupils suddenly shrank. His right hand began to tremble slightly.

He quickly tucked his right hand behind his back to hide it.

Huahua was sharp enough to notice his odd reaction. She finally stopped talking and asked, “Brother Hai, what’s wrong?”

Qin Song pressed his lips together and said nothing. Huahua looked at him anxiously.

A few seconds later, Qin Song let out a small breath. “I’m fine. I just suddenly got a bit of a headache.”

Huahua said, “You think that old guy was too sleazy too, huh? Same here. That whole scene was giving me a headache!”

Qin Song took a sip of water. “I’m fine. Keep going.”

Huahua said, “Okay, let me continue. Look, I’ll use the three of them as material. First, I write about this old guy bringing two beautiful women into the hotel – just that opening alone is enough to hook a lot of readers, don’t you think? Then the old guy goes into the bathroom to take a shower, and the two women wait outside. But when he comes out after washing up, he finds that his wallet and phone have both been stolen clean, and those two women are already gone! So the old guy calls the police and lies on the bed, angrily waiting for them to arrive. He lies there and gets sleepier and sleepier… until gradually, a pale hand reaches out from the left side of the bed… then another pale hand reaches out from the right side of the bed…”

Qin Song said, “Are you sure anyone would actually want to read that if you wrote it like this?”

Huahua awkwardly stopped the two hands flailing around in the air and turned to Qin Song. “This is the best I can do, what else am I supposed to do? I haven’t read that many horror stories! So you tell one! You’re already so old, you must have read plenty!”

Qin Song lowered his head and thought for a moment before saying, “Then I’ll tell you one I heard before. Once upon a time, there was a man who lived with his wife in a small cottage in the woods, and they lived a poor but happy life. His wife was very beautiful, and he doted on her, satisfying every one of her requests even when they went beyond what he could afford.”
Huahua opened her iPad. “Slow down. I like this opening. Let me write it down.”

Qin Song continued, “One day, he took his wife with him to chop wood, but there was an accident. His wife’s arm was pinned fast beneath a heavy log. Left with no other choice, he had to use a chainsaw himself to amputate her arm.”

Huahua shuddered.

Qin Song said, “After his wife’s wound healed, she was supposed to get a prosthetic, but she hated every material they showed her. She said they were all too ugly. She couldn’t accept becoming less beautiful. She grew depressed, withdrawn, and irritable. The man racked his brains trying to make her happy, but nothing worked. In the end, his wife made one request of him: she wanted a prosthetic made of pure gold.”

Huahua frowned as she took notes.

Qin Song said, “Gold was precious and beautiful, and she loved it. So the man sold off his property and worked himself half to death to earn money, until at last he had a pure-gold arm made for his wife. Ever since she put on that arm, his wife became lively and cheerful again. No one looked at her strangely or pitied her anymore. Everyone envied her for having an arm made of pure gold.”

Huahua nodded.

Qin Song said, “Later, the doctor told them that the gold arm couldn’t be worn long-term, or it would cause irreversible damage to his wife’s body. But by then, his wife had come to rely on that gold arm too much. It was her dignity, her pride. She even wore it when she slept.”

Huahua asked, “And then?”

Qin Song said, “Then she did, indeed, become terminally ill. Her health worsened day by day. Before she died, she called her husband to her side and told him he had to bury her with the gold arm on. Even after death, she wanted to be beautiful and dazzling. She also said that if her husband didn’t agree to her request, she wouldn’t let him off even after she died. Her husband agreed through his tears – as I said earlier, he agreed to any request she made, unconditionally.”

Huahua said, “That is way too committed to keeping up appearances!”

Qin Song said, “After that, for various reasons, the man lost his job and ended up deeply in debt. He was so poor he could barely survive. With no other choice, he decided to dig up the coffin and take out that gold arm.”

Huahua covered her mouth in shock.

Qin Song said, “He chose a dark, windy night and went to the cemetery alone. He found his wife’s gravestone, dug up the soil himself with a shovel, then opened his wife’s coffin – by then, his wife no longer looked human. He reached inside, tore off the gold arm, and carried it back home.”

Huahua said, “His wife…”

Qin Song said, “After the man returned home, a sudden gust of wind rose outside, and fallen leaves slapped loudly against his window. Because of his guilt and fear, he couldn’t fall asleep. He could only lie quietly in bed, listening to the wind outside. Then, amid the wind, he suddenly heard footsteps. The sound went like this…”

Qin Song slowly tapped his knuckles against the table.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Qin Song said, “It didn’t sound like someone walking. It sounded more like someone holding their arms straight out and hopping forward, one step at a time.”

Huahua swallowed and glanced around.

Qin Song said, “The sound reached the door of his little cabin and stopped. He threw off the covers and sat up, curling into a ball on the bed. But then the footsteps started again. Those feet stepped onto the wooden floor of the cabin, and the sound was especially loud…”

Huahua had long since forgotten about taking notes on her iPad. She stared intently at Qin Song’s mouth.

Qin Song said, “Finally, he watched as his inhuman-looking wife hopped in from the doorway, step by step, hopped to his bedside, and clamped her hands around his neck. She said-”

Huahua shouted, “Why did you take my gold arm?!”

Qin Song frowned. “You’ve heard this story before?”

Huahua burst into a cackling laugh. “Of course I have. That American show is so famous. Who hasn’t seen it? Hahahahaha… How was my performance? Did I make a qualified listener?”

Huahua’s hearty laughter made Qin Song inexplicably want to laugh too.

He thought for a moment, then suddenly looked up and said to Huahua, “Actually, I have another horror story. A friend told it to me. It’s a little boring. Do you want to hear it?”

Huahua asked, “What kind?”

Qin Song said, “The kind you wanted. One that takes place in a hotel.”