This is what I looked like on the seventh day after my death: pale eyes, bruised skin, soaking wet hair, and water constantly streaming from my facial features. Both the drunkard and Lan were terrified; the drunkard screamed “ghost” and turned to run. Then Jing chased after him from behind me—I knew he wouldn’t let those people off easily. But Lan was different. Her wide eyes were filled with undisguisable fear, and she stood there trembling all over.

　　“Don’t come any closer!” she cried at me.

　　“I’m Wit, Lan…” I watched her leave, speaking slowly and softly.

　　Maybe no one in this world will ever remember me again…

　　Chapter 8: The Child in the River (3)

　　From that day on, I never saw Lan again. From her classmates’ conversations, I learned that Duang had accepted her confession. Jing often said that heartbreak was no big deal; he often saw people come to the banana grove to cry after breakups.

　　“What do you know about love? You’re only seven.” Jing patted my head.

　　I shook off his hand. “And what do you know? You just mess around with the banana tree, you don’t even have the courage to say it out loud.” I was a little angry.

　　“You’re just a short-lived little ghost, what right do you have to talk to me like that?” Jing was suddenly hit where it hurt and got agitated.

　　“Yeah, I’m a little ghost, I don’t know anything. You’ve watched over her for hundreds of years, so you tell me what love is, what affection is—what right do you have to judge me?” I couldn’t care less and shot back.

　　Actually, ever since the banana grove existed, someone had dug this Jing on the mountain. Rather than saying which came first, it’s better to say they depended on each other for life. Thanks to the nourishment of the Jing’s water, the banana trees survived several severe droughts, and because of this, she gained a spirit and consciousness. That’s the story of the banana tree and the Jing.

　　“Wit.” Jing suddenly became very calm. “Some things can’t happen just because you want them to. Where there is fate, there are obstacles. Like you and Lan: you drowned, and tomorrow at noon, she will be consumed by fire, but there’s nothing you can do. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, because everyone’s fate is predetermined, just like how we met, just like how you parted.”

　　“No! I’ll save her, I’ll prove to you that not everything is destined.” I didn’t want to hear another word from Jing, and left the banana grove without looking back.

　　“Would you trade your next reincarnation to save her? You’re about to receive offerings, Wit!” I heard Jing’s distant, angry shout.

　　School. Scorching sun. The class bell.

　　I almost forgot how long it had been since I last felt all this. The midday sun made me feel like my soul was about to scatter. I tried to find shaded spots as I headed to the school—I didn’t want to appear from a sewer or a toilet, because that’s not my style, and I didn’t need to leave a ghost story for this school.

　　Unfortunately, I was still a step too late. The raging fire had already spread into the teaching building, and students from the lower floors had all run out. The playground was packed with people; some were coughing, some were pointing and talking, and Lan’s classroom was on the fifth floor. I ignored the burning pain of the sun and rushed in without looking up, but with every step I took, I felt myself fading away.

　　Suddenly, I saw a figure in the hallway—it was Duang. He was shouting Lan’s name as he tried to rush upstairs. He was no longer that snot-nosed tagalong. In that moment, I thought he really looked cool, but with the fire this fierce, it didn’t seem easy for him to get up there.

　　After I helped him clear some of the thick smoke, my body was becoming more and more transparent. My strength was too small, so small that I was about to disappear.

　　“Wit!” I seemed to hear someone’s voice.

　　“Wit!” He habitually pressed his face close to mine. It was Jing; he pulled me up.

　　“Do you remember the wish you made to me when you were little? That kind of cliché black-and-white movie scene—you said you wanted to be the male lead in a film, breaking through danger to save the heroine in distress. Actually, it’s not impossible, though the time is short.”

　　After saying this, he pushed me out. The moment I burst through the thick smoke, I saw in the stairway mirror that I no longer looked seven years old. I was tall, with thick black eyebrows, dark eyes, dense hair, a high nose bridge, wearing a blue school uniform and high-top sneakers. This was my real age—seventeen. Turns out I was pretty handsome. I really wanted to hold onto this moment, but there was no time. When I rushed into the fifth-floor classroom, I saw Lan collapsed on the ground, with some fainted teachers and students around her. I picked Lan up, held her tightly, and used my icy body temperature to dissolve the burning heat of the flames around us.

　　“Wit.” Lan slowly opened her eyes.

　　“Wit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Lan cried.

　　“It’s okay!” I held Lan tightly. Countless sparks flew around us, just like the Milky Way that night.

　　The students on the playground saw us embracing from afar. At first, there was silence, then someone shouted, and the crowd erupted in a frenzy. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I heard the sound of fire trucks, the sound of water, and Duang’s shouts. Then, the fire truck’s water drenched us completely.