Author: ycc917

Shanghai nights are always imbued with a hallucinogenic, clinging humidity. It is as if the vapors of the Huangpu River have risen to swaddle this city of desire in an ambiguous mist.

Perched atop a legendary edifice on the Bund, Bar Noir was the pulsating heart of the city tonight. It was a carnival of the late hours; the air was a thick cocktail of expensive imported perfume, the bite of aged whiskey, Cuban cigar smoke, and the restless pheromones of a hundred bodies. The deafening bass slammed against the walls like the invisible fist of a giant, causing the already exhausted heart inside Philip’s chest to tremble in rhythm.

Philip felt the world spin violently. It was the third day of his business trip to Shanghai. He had just survived a five-hour marathon of socializing with investors for a contract worth tens of millions of pounds. Alcohol coursed through his veins, scorching his nerves and making his steps uncharacteristically unsteady. He tugged at the silk tie that felt like a noose around his neck, gasping for air.

When his phone buzzed in his pocket and the name “Julie” flashed on the screen, his eyes—clouded with drunkenness—instantly lit up. It was the look of a drowning man who had just found his only piece of driftwood.

He stumbled through the writhing crowd on the dance floor, searching for a quiet corner, but was forced to retreat into the men’s restroom. Yet, this was Shanghai’s hottest spot, Bar Noir; even the restroom was not spared from the cacophony. The narrow space was packed, filled with a mix of Mandarin pleasantries, loud laughter in foreign tongues, and the faint, acrid scent of vomit.

Philip leaned sideways against the cold black marble sink, straining to hear Julie’s voice over the thunderous background noise. The mirror reflected a face that was slightly weary and disheveled, but the corners of his mouth were lifted in a smile full of love.

The lens shifts to the other side of the globe.

Milan, Italy. The warm, languid afternoon sun pierced through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling into Julie’s hotel room. It was a suite breathing with classical elegance, the air floating with a high-end fragrance of jasmine and sandalwood. The massive four-poster bed was piled high with the spoils of her recent shopping spree—lustrous silk gowns, soft cashmere scarves, and several shopping bags emblazoned with top-tier luxury logos.

Julie reclined lazily against the headboard, wrapped in a thick, pure white terry cloth bathrobe. Backlit by the afternoon sun, she looked like a harmless, freshly awakened Persian cat. But only she knew the pulse-raising suggestion hidden beneath this seemingly innocent attire.

As she lifted her leg slightly to adjust the phone angle, the hem of the pristine white robe slipped. Philip could clearly see through the screen—she was not barefoot. She was wearing a pair of sheer black stockings that encased her long calves, and dangling from her toes was a pair of aggressively sexy, red-bottomed stilettos.

This stark contrast of “innocent bathrobe” paired with “erotic stilettos” was her signature naughty playfulness, a private landscape reserved only for Philip’s eyes.

In fact, Julie had another unspoken secret. Beneath the robe, she was already wearing the daringly cut cutout dress she had just bought. Her fingers were already resting on the robe’s sash, her eyes twinkling with excitement and teasing light—the triumphant look of a hunter showing off her prey.

“Watch this, Philip. You’re going to love this…” she whispered in her mind, her finger hooking the tie, ready to unravel it at any moment for a fiery “unboxing ceremony.”

However, the second she prepared to pull the sash, the door to Philip’s restroom was violently slammed open.

BANG!

A woman in a silver sequined miniskirt, reeking of alcohol, stumbled toward the sinks. She was clearly wasted. Her foot slipped, and her body slammed heavily into Philip’s shoulder. Her studded clutch nearly flew out, narrowly missing Philip’s face.

“Oh! Sorry… excuse me… hic!” the woman mumbled incoherently. Her eyes were unfocused, seemingly unaware of the force of her collision. She turned to the mirror and began messily reapplying her lipstick, smearing it well past her lip line.

“God, it’s a war zone in here,” Philip frowned, instinctively shielding his phone. He offered a bitter smile to Julie on the screen. “Babe, it’s too loud, and a drunk lady just gave me an elbow. Give me a second, I’m moving.”

In the Milan room, Julie’s finger on the sash froze.

“God…” Hearing Philip complain about the noise, she sighed and helplessly let go of the belt. The urge to show off her sexiness, to hear his gasp of amazement, was choked back by the chaotic, vulgar background noise. In an environment that sounded like a wet market, any erotic seduction would feel ridiculous and ill-timed.

She suppressed the desire, deciding to wait until he found a quiet place. She didn’t know that this would be her last chance in this life to show him her beauty.

“Run for it, honey,” Julie laughed from the screen, a hint of spy-instinct alertness in her tone, though she thought it was just directed at the terrible environment. “Find somewhere you can breathe.”

She smiled as she said it, unaware that he had nowhere left to run.

Philip pushed open the heavy wooden door and fell once again into the suffocating vortex of Bar Noir.

This time, the wall of sound was even more violent. The air was charged with deafening electronic dance music. The intense bass was no longer just background noise; it was like an invisible hammer, striking his diaphragm with precision and weight—Thump! Thump! Thump! It forced a deeper, dangerous pressure onto his already distressed heart, as if the rhythm of the chaotic music was forcibly rewriting his own heartbeat.

He stumbled through the crowd, feeling like a fish swimming upstream, struggling to push aside the sweaty bodies writhing to the music. He craved oxygen. He craved a moment of solitude with the woman he loved.

Through the crowded dance floor, his gaze caught the most prominent spot above the bar—several beams of scarlet laser light focused on the center of the stage. The performance there had spiraled out of control, entering the wildest, most depraved climax of the night.

The metal poles were no longer a solo act for the women. Several shirtless male dancers had joined this feast of flesh. Their muscles rippled, their bronzed skin glistening under the oil and laser lights, exuding a raw, feral power.

The performance was bordering on insanity—one male dancer hung upside down from the pole by his legs alone, spinning with astonishing core strength, whirling like an out-of-control top, flinging sweat onto the audience below. A female dancer boldly clung to him, the two bodies intertwining and tumbling in mid-air, defying gravity with dangerous abandon.

The crowd below was in a frenzy, countless hands reaching into the air, whistles and screams nearly lifting the roof. And in the background of this chaotic tableau, through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the Oriental Pearl Tower stood silently, glowing with a cold purple light, as if watching this human degradation with detached indifference.

“Excuse me…” Philip felt a violent wave of vertigo and nausea, the alcohol churning in his stomach.

The rapidly spinning muscle lines, the entangled flesh, the blinding red lights—this scene, overflowing with excessive vitality, felt like a kaleidoscope from hell to him right now. He felt as if he were about to be swallowed whole by this surge of energy.

He had to get out. Immediately. Summoning his last ounce of strength, he crashed through the glass door leading to the terrace.

Whoosh—

Instantly, the heat, the smell of sweat, and the noise were severed. A gust of river wind, carrying the metallic tang and distinct scent of the Huangpu River, rushed into his lungs, bringing a moment of clarity.

Philip inhaled greedily, walking to the edge of the terrace and resting his arms on the cold metal railing. This was the legendary Bund, Shanghai’s most expensive skyline.

Behind him, a massive red flag snapped loudly in the night wind, its color piercingly bright. Before him, the city’s prosperity was breathtaking. Across the dark, flowing expanse of the Huangpu River, Lujiazui was staging a light show of the future—the Oriental Pearl Tower flashed with pink and purple neon, like a string of giant luminous gems; the Shanghai Tower pierced the clouds, its massive LED screens reflecting on the water, shimmering and dreamlike, yet possessing an unreal coldness.

“Wow… Philip, it’s beautiful there,” Julie’s voice became clear, filled with genuine awe.

“Yeah, this is the most beautiful place in Shanghai,” Philip turned the camera toward the night view behind him, letting Julie see the dazzling skyline. “But I’d still rather be in Milan with you. Did you go try on bridesmaid dresses?”

“Yes! Natalia and Antoine’s wedding is the day after tomorrow. I’m so nervous, even though it’s not me getting married.” Julie’s face beamed with happiness, a longing for a normal life. “By the way, Philip, did you see the photos I sent you yesterday?”

Philip looked at the brilliant smile on the screen, the river wind reviving his spirits slightly.

“I did… honey, I saw them.” He had to raise his voice against the wind. “Looks like you had a blast shopping yesterday. You are the true Queen of Shopping. I honestly… love you to death.”

“Oh? Why do you love me so much?” Julie pouted on the other end, starting their usual playful banter.

“Because… of those super shiny boots you just bought!!” Philip leaned against the railing, trying to use a joke to mask the discomfort rising from deep within his body.

“Because my crystal boots are super shiny??” Julie raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of cute and feigned annoyance.

Philip looked at her, a profound warmth welling up in his heart. In the cold extravagance of this foreign land, she was the only real warmth.

“No. It’s because… we are really alike. We’re born for each other. And, you are my best friend.”

The words softened Julie’s expression. Sitting on the bed piled with silk and gowns, the corner of her mouth lifted into a mischievous smile—a smile hiding a massive secret.

“Hmm… we are alike, that’s true…” She lowered her voice, as if sharing a top-secret classified intel. “But, actually, you know I’m an alien… I can shapeshift into anything; I can turn into your enemy in a split second, or become whatever I want. I can even turn into liquid…”

Philip chuckled at this. It was what he found most charming about his girlfriend—she was always so funny, sexy, and full of wild imagination. Of course, he didn’t know that this joke about being an “alien” was actually the most honest—and dangerous—metaphor for this top spy’s identity.

“Of course… babe,” Philip looked at the lens, his eyes full of deep affection, completely missing the subtext. “I know you can change like the Monkey King. But no matter how you change, you are my sexiest alien!”

“Then look at this!” Julie decided to give him a treat. She turned and picked up a bright red bikini, shaking it in front of the camera like shaking a lure. The small shells embedded along the edge clicked crisply. “This is for the pool party tomorrow… bright red, with a rim of little shells!”

“Meowkira~ Meowkira~ Hips never lie~”

Julie began to hum a silly tune she had improvised, happy as a little girl with a new toy. She swayed her body to the rhythm, deliberately shaking the bikini so the delicate shells along the edge clicked together.

Click-clack, click-clack—

The shells made a crisp, pleasing sound, like summer waves hitting the sand, accompanying her playful singing. She was so vivid, so happy, completely oblivious to the darkness that was about to descend.

“Oh la la!” Philip leaned closer to the screen, smiling, trying to make out the details of the swimsuit in the dim light, his eyes full of admiration and love.

Just as the corners of his mouth began to lift—

At the zenith where alcohol, love, and city lights intertwined, the Reaper’s scythe swung without warning.

A cold, invisible hand punched through his expensive Italian bespoke suit and clenched his heart tight.

It wasn’t the dizziness of alcohol.

At first, it wasn’t pain, but an immense, suffocating crushing weight. It was as if an invisible elephant had suddenly sat on his chest, or countless cold iron chains had instantly tightened.

Philip’s fingers, which had been resting lightly on the railing, convulsed violently. His knuckles turned ghastly white from the force, his nails scraping against the metal with a teeth-grinding screech. He tried to straighten his back, to shake off this absurd oppression, but he discovered with horror that his ribs felt like they were collapsing inward, squeezing the space out of his lungs.

He heard the roar of his own blood rushing madly against his eardrums.

“Philip? Are you okay? You look terrible…” Julie stopped shaking the bikini and leaned closer to the screen, a trace of spy-instinct panic in her voice.

But to Philip, her voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of the deep sea—distorted, blurred, and distant.

Then, the pain exploded.

It wasn’t ordinary pain; it was a devastating, wringing agony. A bolt of searing lightning detonated behind his sternum, running wild along his nerves. This electric shock of pain instantly climbed up his left shoulder, burning its way down the inside of his left arm to his pinky finger. The phone in his hand suddenly felt like a thousand-pound weight.

He could not breathe.

The air of the Shanghai night, already humid and heavy, turned into solid concrete in his throat. He opened his mouth wide, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently, desperate to inhale a shred of oxygen, but his lungs refused to work. It was the sensation of drowning—standing on a bustling shore, yet suffocating in an invisible ocean of air.

Cold sweat exploded in a single second, instantly soaking his shirt—the distinct, cold, clammy sweat of the dying.

This can’t be true… I’m only in my thirties… I just had a few drinks…

In Philip’s field of vision, the world began to collapse. Julie’s face started to twist and rotate, melting into the pink and purple Oriental Pearl Tower in the background.

He saw, in the corner of the terrace, a young couple taking a selfie with champagne, hollow smiles on their faces, completely unaware that a life was vanishing right beside them.

Philip’s brain tried to deny reality in those first few seconds, tried to find logic. But the physiological collapse came too fast, leaving him no chance for rational thought.

His vision began to undergo a terrifying change—tunnel vision. The dazzling Oriental Pearl Tower, the brilliant neon lights, began to melt and elongate on his retinas, turning into twisted, grotesque lines. The world was turning black and white, the edges of his sight rapidly swallowed by darkness, leaving only a tiny bright spot in the center—the phone screen, Julie’s face.

An unprecedented Sense of Impending Doom shrouded him. It wasn’t a fear of pain, but a biological instinct’s despairing realization of “The End.” He could clearly feel his life force draining rapidly from his fingertips with every faint, almost stagnant heartbeat.

He wanted to speak, to call for help, and more than anything, to say one last “I love you” to Julie.

But when he tried to mobilize his vocal cords, all that came out of his throat was a broken, wheezing rattle… “Uh… uh…”

His legs could no longer support his heavy body. His knees gave way, and the world’s center of gravity tilted completely.

Philip slid slowly down the cold railing. He tried to grab onto this last reliance in the world, but it was all in vain.

BANG!

His body slammed heavily onto the wooden floor of the terrace, vibrating a row of champagne glasses on a nearby table, causing a crisp clinking sound.

The crushing sensation in his chest didn’t disappear with the fall; instead, it intensified, as if the Reaper was now kneeling on his chest, staring coldly down at him.

Now, the bustling night view of the Bund was gone from his sight. No Oriental Pearl Tower. Only the night sky above, dyed an ominous dark red by the city lights, and the red flag snapping in the wind. It looked so red, red as blood, like a giant warning.

A few inches from his fingertips, the phone screen was still glowing, angled toward the sky. Julie’s face was blurred out of focus, but her frantic, distorted screams pierced through his remaining consciousness like needles:

“Philip! Say something! Look at me! Philip!! Answer me!!”

Air… I need air…

Juliet… don’t cry…

Philip’s consciousness dissipated in this final call. But before the boundless tide of darkness completely drowned him, the world suddenly went strangely quiet.

The clamor of the Bund faded, and the whistling of the river wind stalled. In the last millisecond of his remaining consciousness, what echoed in his mind was not the fear of death, but that absurd, off-key, yet cutest melody he had ever heard in his life:

“Meowkira~ Meowkira~”

That was the last bit of warmth she left him in this cold world.

Then, everything fell into silence.

Chapter 2

I didn’t know how long it has been already. I was just stiff somehow… I felt comfortable but I noticed that I was not laying down. It seemed like I was floating in the air…..and  strangely… I am naked!!!

I didn’t feel any pain, I felt peaceful… and weightless. Everything seemed so harmony. I felt I was in a cloud……because everything was pure white.

Suddenly, one light just broke through the sky in front of me. I had the feeling that I wanted to go close to the light. I wanted to grab the light and followed it to somewhere nice. Yes, go to somewhere nice, somewhere wonderful and no worries. I would not remember anything and forget all troubles in the past after I reach this place. That would be no pain, no worries, and just peace in the direction of the light….

I moved and raised one arm, looked at the light and tried to grab it. Gradually, I was very close to the light. Yes… I was going to a very nice place….

” Philip…..Where are you? Why don’t you answer me???” One distanced female sound just popped into my ears…. 

“Who is she? The sound is so familiar, like someone I know”.

Although I felt I still wanted to go with the light, this sound made me feel hesitate and a little bit sad?

“Philip….where are you? The sound entered into my ears again. This time was different; although the sound seemed from very far away and so weak, but I could hear it clearly. Somehow my heart started to felt pain suddenly.

” She is…..?”  I was thinking.

” Come to us. Your time is up. Here is your place”. A deep male sound came though the light talking to me…

” You are……?”

I looked up at the light. Suddenly one thought came to my mind . I realise….I am dead!!!…

The light was from the angel.. and the place was heaven….And the female sound must be from….. my baby!!!!

Joliet was calling me.. She was crying…. I could tell she was heart broken….She was so sad.. and she needed me….

“‘ Come to us, we are waiting for you” the male sound repeated it 

” May I , not follow this light now? I promise I will come back later.” I asked this question carefully to the sound hiding in the light. I was more calm at that moment. I knew what’s going on. The light was from the angels ( or God). They wanted to pick me to the heaven. But I could not go there now. Joliet was still there alone. She must be shocked. I needed to be with Joliet to comfort her. I didn’t know how but I just knew I shall not follow this light now. 

It is just I shall not tell ” him” directly what I want. Maybe asking to see her one more time would be a better idea for now?

” Where do you want to go?” the male sound asked me.

“Hmmm, if it is possible, may I see my girlfriend one more time? 

I knew it was not a common request to ask, but I did wish God will allow me to do so. Joliet was really a very special person to me and I would be much happier if I could see her again before going to the heaven permanently.

I talked a lot and tried to give all excuses to convince him. I looked up and wished he would say yes, even this would unlikely happen. According to all movies and stories I watched and read, I have never heard any spirit could stay with mortals and not follow the light.

After some while (for me it was very long like million years), I felt I would almost give up my hope. The sound came again. 

“Yes, you may stay and see her again. We have an arrangement for you. Michael will bring you there and he will let you know what to do”

After he finished this talk, I could see the light became more blurred to dim out. Then one strong light with round shape just appeared in front of my face.

” Let’s go”, the angel said. He smiled to me and took my hand.