Chapter 511: Humans and Ghosts, Different Paths

Although the old woman wasn’t the ghost of the little girl, judging by her demeanor, it was clear she was deeply troubled. Jiangcheng didn’t press further. He knelt down, picked up the little girl’s spirit, and gently held her in his arms. He asked, “Little sister, what’s your name?”

The little girl raised her head, her eyes like sparkling jade, and replied, “My name is Wang Hong.”

“Wang Hong…” Jiangcheng repeated the name softly, then asked, “Where is your home? Can you show me the way?”

“My home is at the back of the mountain, in Wangjia Village,” the little girl answered.

“Wangjia Village?” Jiangcheng frowned slightly. He had heard that name before. It was rumored to be a rather isolated mountain village. He then asked, “Little sister, how did you end up here?”

The little girl’s eyes dimmed. She was about to speak when the old woman interrupted, “Don’t ask about that. It’s better not to know.”

Jiangcheng looked at the old woman. Her face was filled with sorrow. He understood. There were some things that were best left buried. He then said, “Alright, I won’t ask. Little sister, I will take you home now.”

“Really?” The little girl’s eyes lit up.

“Yes,” Jiangcheng affirmed. He stood up, holding the little girl. He looked at the old woman and bowed slightly. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

The old woman just sighed.

Jiangcheng then turned and walked towards the mountain path, following the direction the little girl pointed. The path was steep and winding, but Jiangcheng walked steadily. The little girl’s spirit was light, and holding her felt like holding a wisp of cloud.

As they walked, the little girl pointed to a large tree and said, “That’s where I used to play.” She pointed to a stream and said, “That’s where I used to catch fish.” Her voice was light and airy, filled with a childlike innocence that tugged at Jiangcheng’s heart.

After walking for a long time, they finally arrived at Wangjia Village. It was a small, dilapidated village nestled in the mountains. The houses were old and crumbling, and there were very few people around.

Jiangcheng followed the little girl’s directions and stopped in front of a small, mud-brick house. The door was ajar, and a faint light flickered inside.

“This is my home,” the little girl said softly.

Jiangcheng pushed open the door and stepped inside. The house was simple and sparse, but it was clean. There was an old man sitting by the fire, his back hunched. He looked frail and lonely.

The little girl’s spirit floated towards the old man. “Grandpa, I’m home.”

The old man didn’t seem to hear her. He just stared into the fire, his eyes filled with a deep sadness.

Jiangcheng understood. Humans and ghosts, different paths. The living could not see or hear the dead.

He gently placed the little girl’s spirit on the ground. “Little sister, you are home now. Stay here with your grandpa.”

The little girl looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and gratitude. “Thank you, Big Brother.”

Jiangcheng smiled faintly. “You’re welcome.” He then turned and quietly left the house, closing the door behind him.

He stood outside for a moment, looking at the small house. He could feel the little girl’s spirit inside, watching over her grandpa. It was a bittersweet feeling. He had helped her find her way home, but he knew she would forever be a spirit, bound to this place.

He sighed, then turned and walked back down the mountain path, leaving the quiet village behind. The sun had set, and the sky was filled with stars. As he walked, he thought about the old woman and the little girl, and the thin line that separated the living and the dead.