After Linghu Lan died, she donated all her belongings to an orphanage.
Not long after, the house was auctioned off.
An elderly couple bought the house, intending to use it as their son and daughter-in-law's wedding home.
The house was renovated and left to air out for more than half a year before the wedding was held, and the newlyweds moved into the room.
The newlyweds were both avid readers; the man preferred history and military books, while the woman enjoyed romance and ghost stories.
That day.
The woman was reading a ghost story when she suddenly became sad. The ghost story was called "Mirror Soul," a work by the late suspense master Wen Mo. One of the stories in it was about a black cat.
"Cai'er, what's wrong?" The man was very attentive, feeling sorry for his wife who came from an orphanage, and always tried his best to treat her gently and considerately.
Wen Cai'er sighed. "I miss my black cat."
Wen Cai'er's black cat died a few years ago. The orphanage doesn't allow cats, so the black cat wanders outside. Every night, it would sneak into the orphanage to keep her company, and then run out to find food on its own at dawn. Sometimes, she would leave some food for the black cat.
Life in the orphanage was not easy, but she managed to get through it thanks to the black cat's companionship.
The black cat died, and she felt empty inside for a long time.
Wen Cai'er's husband patted her head and said, "If you miss the black cat, why don't you write a note and burn it for it?"
"Pfft! Burning paper money for a cat, you really came up with that idea."
"What's the big deal? People burn paper money for others, and that cat is just like your family."
“You’re right, but I’ll still write a story about a black cat. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to write ghost stories for a while now. I really love ghost stories, and I’d like to try writing one myself.” Wen Cai’er’s eyes lit up.
“Then write it!” Wen Cai’er’s husband was very supportive.
Without hesitation, Wen Cai'er turned on her computer and began to write. She had never typed before, so it was very difficult for her. However, after thinking about the black cat, she persevered. As she wrote, she felt a surge of inspiration and gained more and more feeling. Finally, she wrote a short story about a black cat by evening.
After finishing writing, she felt completely drained. She closed the document, turned off the computer, washed up, and went to bed.
She was so exhausted that she didn't notice that the moment she turned off her computer, a bright light flashed across the screen, quickly dissipated into the air, and disappeared.
At midnight, the moon hung in the sky, exceptionally bright, making the night feel eerily cold.
A black cat appeared on the windowsill, carrying a black bag in its mouth, and meowed softly. "Meow!"
No one heard its voice, as if it were separated from the world by a barrier.
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