As the ghost bus approached, Zhou Yang dashed straight in that direction, yelling at us, "It doesn’t stop here. Let’s run to the next stop!"

"What? You want to get on the bus?" I hesitated.

After a round of voting, everyone except for me agreed to get on the bus. I was forced to submit to the majority.

We ran towards the stop sign in front. But when the bus passed us, we found that it wasn’t moving as slow as we had previously assumed so catching the bus on foot proved difficult. Seeing Bingxin struggle to run in her sandals, Dali seized the opportunity and said, "I'll carry you!"

However, Bingxin removed both sandals and held them in her hand. "It's alright. I’ll run barefoot."

What if she steps on glass or sharp gravel? I couldn’t bear to watch her get hurt so I bent over and offered, "Climb up!"

After a few seconds of hesitating, she threw herself onto my back and asked me in a low whisper, "Am I heavy?"

"Lighter than Xiaotao!" I answered.

"You naughty boy!" she tugged my ear.

We reached the stop sign where the bus came to a halt. The bus doors opened with a loud creak and we filed in immediately.

Zhou Yang stretched his neck out curiously, observing the empty bus. "Why isn’t there a conductor?"

"Maybe they take our souls for the ticket fee!" Dali uttered gloomily.

Zhou Yang glared at him, "Stop messing around. Do you think it’s funny?"

"How are you a paranormal investigator if you’re so afraid?” mocked Dali. “Even I'm embarrassed for you!"

Watching Dali tit for tat, Bingxin and I exchanged a smile. The four of us found seats in the back row and Zhou Yang started taking photos of everything.

"Make sure we’re not in the photo or I'll sue you for violating my rights,” I warned.

"Why would I take your photo?” grinned Zhou Yang. “It’s not like you’re good-looking! I’m taking photos of these two beautiful ladies."

"Song Yang-gege, smash his cell phone!" Bingxin frowned.

As soon as I stood up to get to work, Zhou Yang hid his cellphone behind him. "Geez, why are you such a downer? Can't I make a joke?"

Zhou Yang ran to the front and sat away from us, as if he wanted to speak to the driver but couldn’t muster up the courage to face the disconcerting man. As the bus traveled down the street, I observed our surroundings and surmised, "It's no big deal. It's just an ordinary bus."

In the back row, Dali suddenly let out a scream that made my eardrums ache.

“What are you doing?" I asked.

Dali pointed out the window, tongue-tied and faltering, "Dude, look at the shadows!"

At first, all we saw outside was the dark tarmac but when the bus drove past a wall, the reflection that appeared horrified us. There were silhouettes of people sitting next to the windows.

"There are ghosts on the bus!" Bingxin screamed in fright and pulled me into a tight embrace.

While Dali, Luo Youyou and Zhou Yang reacted with the same horror, I remained indifferent. So what if there were ghosts?

"But here’s what I don't understand,” I interjected. “Some supernatural novels say that ghosts have no shadows but others write that photographs are able to capture images of supernatural beings naked to the human eye. Is there a definite answer to this? Someone give me a goddamn conclusion!"

"Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean you can babble nonsense!” Zhou Yang rebuked. “There are people on the bus—we just can’t see them."

"An invisible object has the characteristic of allowing light to pass through. If that’s the case, how can it have a shadow?" I retorted.

Zhou Yang endeavored to reason, "Ghosts exist in another dimension, and those shadows are projected from that dimension."

"Oh, so you’re referring to a four-dimensional space. Would you please explain what that is?" I quipped.

Zhou Yang was rendered speechless. "Then how do you explain the shadows?"

"There must be a scientific explanation,” I insisted. “I don't think those are ghosts."

“People hell-bent on scientific superstitions are simply hopeless!" he scoffed. Having said that, he angrily sat back down.

I thought to myself, Scientific superstitions? This was the first time I had ever heard the phrase. Did he automatically relate the mere rustle of leaves in the wind or any sign of slight disturbance to the supernatural?

Our little war of words greatly diluted the strange atmosphere on the bus. Every time we passed a street lamp, the silhouettes sitting by the window appeared once more.

Pointing to the shadows on the floor, I said, "They’re completely still. Isn’t that a little suspicious?"

Dali pointed out, "Ghosts don’t move."

"How can there be a ghost bus?” I snapped. “I'm going to speak to the driver."

Right then, the bus came to an abrupt halt. Two women and a man came on board. The women were heavily made up and scantily clad while the burly man wore a lewd smile on his face as he winked at the two women. "Give it a second thought. I guarantee spending the night with me won’t be a loss for you two. You’ll even be paid."

I caught a whiff of alcohol from the man's body that suggested he was a lecherous old man who followed the ladies from a nightclub.

The three sat in the front row. "Why the hell are you bothering us? We work in a nightclub but we’re not hookers. If you want to go whoring, look for a prostitute."

The man rubbed his hands in glee, "Watch how you speak, young lady. You’re ones I'm interested in. How about it? Have you thought it over?"

Bingxin whispered, "How disgusting!"

The man seemed to notice his surroundings. "Alas, which bus is this?" Then, turning to Zhou Yang, he repeated, "Dude, which bus is this?"

Zhou Yang coldly replied that he was unaware.

As it turned out, the three of them had unknowingly gotten on the wrong bus. The man continued to pester the women to spend the night with him.

I turned to the others, "Let's get off at the next stop."

"It wasn’t easy for us to find the bus. Why don’t we stay a while longer?" urged Dali.

I deliberately frightened him, "They all say that this bus is headed to the underworld. Why don't you stay and experience it by yourself?"

My tactic was indeed effective in getting him to come around. "Alright, let’s get off at the next stop!" Dali shivered.

However, the bus drove and passed the stop. The burly man suddenly stood up and walked to the driver. "Dude, why didn't you stop?” he asked, pounding the back of the driver’s seat. “Does this bus go to Xinxiang?"

Faced with the driver’s silence, the man struck harder. "Are you mute? Why don’t you say something?"

"He’s going to die! He’ll definitely die!" Dali trembled.

"Really?” I challenged. “Then I’ll have to stay and watch what happens."

Hot under the collar, the burly man reached out and shook the driver's arm. But the most unexpected thing happened–the driver's arm fell off and rolled to his feet.

"G-g-ghost!" he yelled in horror.

Fear was contagious and the entire bus was soon filled with screams, and only I was unaffected. It was clear to me that the arm that had fallen to the ground was a prosthetic limb.

The driver quietly picked up his prosthetic arm, attached it to his body, and continued driving.

Frightened out of his wits, the burly man banged at the doors with all his might, wailing like a dying pig, "Let me down! Let me down!"

At this moment, the bus came to a stop so the burly man’s leg was stuck between the bus doors. Screaming bloody murder and begging for our help, he repeatedly pulled at his leg, trying to free it from the doors. I stood up and said to the driver, "Sir, please close the doors!"

The driver didn't seem to perceive the sounds of the outside world at all. After waiting for half a minute, the doors closed automatically and remained shut. Then the bus went on its way again.