11:43 p.m.
Lin Wanqing sat in the car without starting it right away.
A clear plastic bag sat on the passenger seat.
Inside was the pair of white shoes.
She had been staring at them all afternoon.
The longer she looked, the more uneasy she felt.
That string of numbers on the soles—
0714.
And the photograph.
Her mother.
Her father.
Her sixteen-year-old self.
And the blurry man reflected in the glass window.
She had always thought she remembered everything clearly about the year she was sixteen.
Only now did she realize—
maybe she remembered only the parts someone else wanted her to remember.
The time on her phone changed to 11:44 p.m.
Sixteen minutes until midnight.
She looked at the address again.
Nan Street 17.
It was an old apartment building that had already been half-demolished.
She had heard it was originally scheduled for redevelopment.
But because of ownership disputes and certain historical issues, construction had never actually begun.
Wanqing had looked into it.
Ten years ago, there had been a fire here.
No one had died.
At least, that was what the official records said.
But while researching, she had discovered something strange.
The time the fire had started.
Four in the morning.
And the time she had ridden that strange elevator last night…
Had also been four in the morning.
She didn't know if it was a coincidence.
But she no longer believed in coincidences.
11:58 p.m.
Wanqing pushed open the front door of Nan Street 17.
It wasn't locked.
Inside was pitch-black.
She turned on her phone's flashlight.
Dust drifted slowly through the beam.
Some very old posters still clung to the walls.
Some of the words were already impossible to make out.
She walked farther inside.
The soles of her shoes made faint sounds against the floor.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
She stopped abruptly.
Because she heard another sound.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Like an alarm clock.
Wanqing frowned.
How could there be an alarm clock in a place like this?
She followed the sound.
It was coming from the second floor.
She climbed the stairs.
With every step, the sound grew clearer.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
When she reached the second floor, the sound disappeared.
Wanqing stood there.
The surroundings were completely silent.
She turned around.
There was no one beneath the stairs.
Just as she was about to leave—
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
The sound started again.
This time,
it was right behind her.
Wanqing spun around.
There was a door at the end of the hallway.
Written on it:
203.
The sound was coming from inside.
She walked over.
The door wasn't closed.
She pushed it open gently.
There was only a bed in the room.
A desk.
And an old-fashioned alarm clock.
The alarm clock sat on the desk.
Its hands were stopped at:
04:14.
Wanqing stared at it.
The alarm clock clearly hadn't been wound,
yet it was still ringing.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
She stepped closer.
She pressed the stop button.
The sound ceased.
The room fell quiet again.
She let out a breath of relief.
Just then,
the alarm clock's hands suddenly began to move.
Extremely fast.
Four o'clock.
Three o'clock.
Two o'clock.
One o'clock.
Midnight.
Then they returned to—
04:14.
The alarm clock began ringing again.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Wanqing took a step back.
“What the hell is this…?”
She pulled out her phone to take a picture.
But when she pointed the camera at the alarm clock,
the screen suddenly went black.
The phone shut itself off.
She pressed the power button several times.
Nothing happened.
The only sound left in the room was the alarm clock.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Then—
The door closed by itself.
Bang.
Wanqing turned around.
The door was completely shut.
She walked over and pulled the handle.
It wouldn't open.
“Is anyone there?”
No one answered.
She yanked on it hard.
Still nothing.
The alarm clock suddenly stopped.
The room became frighteningly quiet.
Wanqing stared at the alarm clock on the desk.
It had stopped.
The hands were still pointing to 04:14.
Then she noticed.
There seemed to be a piece of paper trapped beneath the alarm clock.
She moved it aside.
Sure enough, there was a yellowed piece of paper.
Written on it:
“At 04:14, don't let her wake up.”
Wanqing stared at the sentence.
A chill ran through her.
Who?
Who was “she”?
The next second,
footsteps sounded outside the room.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Someone was walking down the hallway.
The footsteps slowly drew closer.
Then stopped outside the door.
Wanqing held her breath.
The person outside didn't knock.
They simply stood there.
A few seconds passed.
Then a man's voice sounded.
“Wanqing.”
Her entire body went rigid.
It was Officer Zhou.
“It's me.”
Wanqing didn't answer.
“Open the door.”
She didn't move.
“You don't believe me?”
Wanqing stared at the door.
“How do I know you're really you?”
Silence fell outside.
After a long while, Officer Zhou finally said:
“Because I'm the only one who knows what happened to you when you were sixteen.”
Wanqing's heart began to race.
“Then tell me.”
“You weren't asleep in your room that night.”
“Someone hid you.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
“Why?”
There was no answer from outside.
Wanqing asked again:
“Why would she hide me?”
Officer Zhou's voice dropped.
“Because someone came looking for her.”
“Gu Yan?”
“No.”
Wanqing froze.
“Then who?”
“Your father.”
Her entire body went rigid.
“That's impossible.”
“Why is it impossible?”
“My father wasn't home that night.”
“How do you know?”
Wanqing didn't answer.
Because that was exactly what she had always remembered.
The year she was sixteen.
Her father was away on a business trip.
Her mother was home alone.
She fell asleep after eating cake that night.
When she woke the next day, her mother was gone.
Her father didn't return until the following evening.
She had always believed that was what happened.
But now Officer Zhou was telling her—
her father had been home that night.
A sudden headache seized her.
“You're lying to me.”
“I'm not.”
“Do you have proof?”
“I do.”
A faint sound came from outside the door.
Like something being set on the floor.
“Look beneath the door first.”
Wanqing lowered her head.
Beneath the gap under the door,
there was an envelope.
She slowly crouched down.
Then picked it up.
There was no name on it.
Only a date.
2016/7/14.
She opened it.
Inside was an old hospital registration slip.
Name:
Lin Jianguo.
That was her father's name.
Time:
July 14, 2016, 11:52 p.m.
Location:
A clinic near Nan Street 17.
Wanqing's hands began to tremble.
“This is impossible…”
Officer Zhou said:
“He wasn't away on a business trip that night.”
“He was here.”
“And he wasn't alone.”
Wanqing raised her head.
“With whom?”
Officer Zhou didn't answer.
The alarm clock began ringing again.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
This time, the sound was deafening.
Wanqing turned around.
The time on the alarm clock had changed.
04:14.
Suddenly, there was no sound outside the door.
“Officer Zhou?”
No one answered.
“Officer Zhou?”
She walked to the door.
“Are you still there?”
Silence.
She pressed her ear against the door.
There was nothing.
She slowly turned the handle.
The door opened.
The hallway outside was empty.
Officer Zhou was gone.
Only the envelope remained on the floor.
Wanqing stood in the doorway.
She began to wonder if she had been tricked again.
Until she saw the wall of the hallway.
There was a shadow.
Very faint.
Like someone was standing behind her.
She slowly turned around.
There was no one there.
But the shadow remained.
Wanqing looked down at her feet.
The shadow wasn't hers.
It stood taller than she did.
Its shoulders were broad.
Like a man.
She took a step backward.
The shadow didn't move.
She took another step.
The shadow still didn't move.
Only after she had completely stepped out of the light did the shadow slowly disappear.
Wanqing turned and ran.
She raced down the stairs,
all the way to the first floor.
She pushed open the front door.
There was no one outside.
The street was deserted.
She took out her phone.
It suddenly lit up on its own.
There was no signal,
yet a new message appeared.
“You finally know where your father was that night.”
Wanqing stared at the message.
The next one appeared immediately.
“But you still don't know why he came.”
She didn't reply.
A third message appeared.
“Go home.”
Wanqing frowned.
A fourth message.
“Look at the alarm clock outside your door.”
She froze.
Outside her door?
She had never left an alarm clock outside her door.
Then how did the sender know?
Wanqing got into the car immediately.
5:26 a.m.
She returned to her place.
The stairwell was silent.
She didn't take the elevator.
She walked all the way up to the fifth floor.
When she stood outside her own door,
she stopped.
There really was something in front of it.
An old-fashioned alarm clock.
It sat on the floor.
The display showed:
04:14.
Wanqing stared at it.
She didn't touch it.
The alarm clock didn't ring.
She took out her phone and snapped a picture.
This time, the phone didn't shut off.
She zoomed in on the photo.
There was a piece of paper beside the alarm clock.
Written on it:
“Do you still remember that sound?”
Wanqing froze.
She suddenly remembered that night when she was sixteen.
She had been hiding in her room.
Someone was talking outside.
She couldn't make out what they were saying.
There had been only one sound.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
The alarm clock.
At the time, she had thought she was only dreaming.
But now…
she knew it had been real.
She picked up the alarm clock.
An old photograph was taped to the back.
It showed her sixteenth birthday.
She was sitting at the dining table.
Her mother stood behind her.
Her father stood beside them.
And in the far corner of the photograph…
stood Gu Yan.
Wanqing's hands began to feel cold.
But the strangest thing was—
Gu Yan was holding an alarm clock.
And the time displayed on it
was:
04:14.
She turned the photograph over.
There was only one sentence on the back.
“When the time comes, she will wake up.”
Wanqing froze.
“Who will wake up?”
she murmured.
Just then,
a sound suddenly came from inside the apartment.
Not outside the door.
Inside her home.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
She jerked her head up.
The alarm clock was still in her hand.
But the sound wasn't coming from it.
It was coming from the bedroom.
Wanqing stood in the doorway,
an intensely ominous feeling rising in her chest.
She slowly walked into the room.
The sound grew clearer.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
She opened the closet.
Nothing.
Under the bed.
Nothing.
Finally,
she saw the nightstand.
A tape recorder she had never seen before sat on it.
The recorder was lit up by itself.
Its red indicator light was flashing.
She stepped closer.
A woman's voice came from the recorder.
It was her mother.
“Wanqing.”
“If you're hearing this recording, it means you've found the alarm clock.”
Wanqing held her breath.
“I only want to tell you one thing.”
“The person who was truly awakened that night when you were sixteen…”
The recording paused.
A hiss continued for several seconds.
Then her mother said in a voice barely loud enough to hear:
“It wasn't you.”
Wanqing's face went instantly white.
“That night…”
“Someone woke up before you did.”
The recording stopped abruptly.
The room fell silent.
Wanqing stood beside the bed.
Only that one sentence remained in her mind.
It wasn't you.
Suddenly,
a man's voice came from behind her.
“Do you remember now?”
Wanqing spun around.
There was no one in the room.
Only the window.
The curtains swayed gently in the breeze.
And outside the window…
someone was standing there.
White shoes.
Wanqing's entire body stiffened.
The person didn't come in.
He only watched her through the glass.
The next second,
he raised a hand.
Around his wrist…
was a silver bracelet.
Tears instantly spilled from Wanqing's eyes.
Because it wasn't Gu Yan's bracelet.
It was her mother's.
The man slowly turned around.
Then disappeared outside the window.
Wanqing rushed to the window.
She opened it.
There was nothing outside.
Only on the ground,
there remained a very faint white shoeprint.
She looked down at the shoeprint.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time, there was only one message.
“The sixth way to die: alive, yet never able to wake up.”
Wanqing slowly lowered her phone.
At last, she understood.
That mysterious person had never been telling her how to die.
They had been telling her—
some of the fifteen dead people were never dead at all.
And her mother…
might very well be one of them.