Li Li returned to the apartment, picked up the peach-wood figurine from the corner, and asked, “Do you remember your date of birth? Preferably down to the exact hour.”

  After a long pause, Xiao Mei’s weak voice replied, “I don’t remember.”

  She’d forgotten her own name—how could she recall such details? Besides, only her mother and the hospital would know her exact birth hour.

  Li Li deflated like a popped balloon.

  She had a lead, but as a newly-arrived international student with no connections, no time, and no money, how was she supposed to investigate a year-old murder case?

  Back home, she could just go to the police. But here? Why would foreign police believe a student who’d just arrived? The case was closed, the killer in prison. Reopening it would just mean extra paperwork.

  Holding the figurine, Li Li slumped onto the floor.

  Seeing her like this, Xiao Mei felt a twinge of guilt. “It’s okay. I’m already a ghost—things can’t get much worse. I can just stay a ghost. Scaring people is kind of fun, actually.”

  “Not an option,” Li Li muttered. *If you turn into a vengeful spirit, I’ll have to disperse you for good.*

  Xiao Mei felt an inexplicable chill.

  Li Li moped a bit longer, then finally stood up.

  *Fine. Xiao Mei’s tied to me for now; she won’t turn vengeful overnight. As long as the ghost exists, there’s still a way to find the truth.*

  All that running around had brought her to noon. With the sun at its peak, Xiao Mei was too weak to make a sound.

  Li Li placed her back in the corner and drew the curtains, plunging the room into dimness.

  “I’ll go get food and buy some incense.” She was genuinely hungry from all the errands.

  Xiao Mei didn’t reply.

  Li Li left.

  She didn’t go to the food-truck square Agent Wang had mentioned. Instead, she walked farther to Chinatown.

  The moment she entered the street and saw familiar Chinese shop signs, she felt a wave of comfort. Restaurants served cuisine from all over China, and there were bubble tea shops popular with the younger generation. It felt like home.

  Li Li walked into a busy ramen shop and ordered a bowl of plain vegetarian noodles.

  *A proper meal to settle in.* The place was crowded, so it probably wasn’t bad.

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  Despite the lunch rush, the staff were efficient. Her noodles arrived quickly—a generous portion.

  The server was a grade-school kid wearing glasses and a checkered polo shirt—he looked like a math whiz. Probably the owner’s son. Seeing him help out at such a young age reminded Li Li of her own “summer job” at the temple.

  *Don’t get me started.*

  Starving, Li Li quickly finished the steaming bowl. She called the kid over for the bill, glanced at it, and gasped.

  The price for one bowl of plain noodles plus tax and tip, converted to RMB, could buy her a decent meal back home. Her family earned in RMB, but she was spending dollars.

  A doubt crept in: *Is my family really wealthy enough to send me abroad? Since when was Dad this rich?*

  If Li Li knew her study abroad fund was actually her future apartment down payment, she’d have retaken the college entrance exam and fought for a domestic bachelor’s degree with everything she had.

  The kid, seeing Li Li frozen staring at the bill, grew suspicious—was she going to dine and dash?

  Li Li hurriedly paid with her card and scurried out, then wandered around Chinatown.

  There were plenty of restaurants, but since foreigners didn’t typically worship ancestors, incense shops were rare. After much searching, Li Li finally found one tucked deep in an alley.

  The shop was small and old, with a simple wooden sign reading “Incense & Spirit Money.” Li Li knocked and entered. Behind the counter, a white-haired old man was dozing, propping his head on his hand.

  Scanning the shelves, Li Li saw they sold not just incense and spirit money, but also couplets, red lanterns, and other traditional items. She walked over and tapped the counter, waking the old man, and explained what she needed.

  The old man was surprised to see such a young Asian girl buying these things. Westerners didn’t care for these rituals, so his customers were mostly Chinatown residents. And as first-generation immigrants aged and passed away, the younger generation had largely forgotten these customs.

  The old man didn’t speak much Mandarin, and his English had a heavy accent. Through gestures and fragmented words, they finally got everything Li Li needed.

  The prices were nearly double what they were back home, and the quality wasn’t as good. But Li Li had no choice. She paid tearfully, hauled a big bag of incense and spirit money back to her apartment under the odd stares of passersby, dropped it off, and—before she could even sit down—realized it was almost time to meet the senior selling her secondhand goods. She rushed out again.

  The senior was cheerful and warm. Though Li Li only bought a mattress and some kitchenware, the senior threw in many other usable items she couldn’t take home. Between the purchases and freebies, they filled the car.

  “Goodbye, Jennifer. Goodbye, Stephanie. You got your permanent residency before Mom did.” The senior teared up, speaking to the trunk.

  Li Li was puzzled. “Jennifer? Stephanie?”

  “The names I gave my mattress and rice cooker,” the senior explained, wiping her eyes. “They were my most important companions abroad. You must treat them well.”

  Li Li: “…Okay.”

  With everything loaded, they got in and buckled up.

  “So, where do you live?” the senior asked.

  Li Li gave her address. The senior’s face instantly changed. “You weren’t scammed by a shady agent, were you? Do you know what happened in that building?”

  Li Li nodded. “I know. There was a murder there a year ago.” *The ghost is currently living in a peach-wood figurine I carved.*

  “And you’re okay with that?” The senior spoke earnestly. “You can’t trade safety for cheap rent. Studying abroad is hard enough—you have to take care of yourself. If you have to, live in student dorms!”

  “I didn’t get a dorm spot,” Li Li admitted sheepishly. The temple internet had been too slow. “It’s fine, really. I’m not scared of that.”

  If anything, *it* should be scared of *her*.

  Seeing she couldn’t dissuade her, the senior sighed and changed the subject, starting the car. “That girl was a model, really beautiful. Can’t imagine why such a thing happened. I used to follow her social media. Such a shame.”

  *Social media?*

  Li Li seized on the detail. “Hey, could you send me her social media handle? I’d like to see.”

  “Sure,” the senior nodded. “I’ll send it to you when we get there.”

  A/N:

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