The spiritual energy required to speak during the Physics exam leaves Xiaoyu incredibly drained. For two days, her form feels faint, almost transparent, as she drifts through the city. But as the weekend arrives, she notices a strange shift. Her deliberate actions to help Xu Jiang and Yue Chen have not weakened her permanently: they have anchored her. Her ghost presence feels heavier now, more defined and responsive to her own will.
She returns to her family's apartment on Saturday evening to test this new strength.
The front door passes through her with a slight resistance, like walking through heavy curtains. Inside, the apartment is suffocatingly quiet. The television is off, and the dinner table holds only two simple bowls of plain congee.
Her parents come home from the local grocery store, looking completely exhausted and emotionally numb. Her mother collapses onto the sofa, her coat still on, her eyes staring blankly at the wall. Her skin looks gray, her spirit entirely spent from the constant, crushing weight of her grief. Her father stands in the small kitchen, his shoulders hunched as he stares at the kettle, looking lost.
Xiaoyu walks into the kitchen, standing right beside him. She wants so desperately to comfort them, to give them some small sign that the home they built hasn't completely lost its warmth.
She looks up at the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Resting on the edge is a small, green tin of high-grade jasmine tea. It is her mother's favorite blend, the one her father used to brew for her every weekend during their happier days.
Xiaoyu steps closer to the counter. She takes a deep breath, focusing every ounce of her mind on the smooth metal of the tea tin. She visualizes the physical weight of it, pushing her spiritual energy forward like a concentrated gust of wind.
"Just a little bit," she whispers to herself, pressing her invisible fingers against the metal.
A sharp spark of static electricity cracks against the tin.
With a sudden, distinct scrape, the green tea tin slides a full two inches across the shelf. It hits the outer lip of the cabinet and tumbles over the edge, clattering loudly against the stainless steel countertop right next to her father's hand.
Her father jumps back in surprise, his heart racing. He looks up at the high shelf, then down at the green tin resting innocently by the kettle. There is no wind in the kitchen. The apartment windows are closed tight against the spring chill.
He picks up the tin, his fingers tracing the cool metal. A look of deep, sorrowful remembrance crosses his face. He turns around, looking out into the living room at his wife, who has turned her head toward the kitchen after hearing the noise.
"Xiao Mei," her father says softly, his voice cracking slightly. "I ... I think I'll brew some jasmine tea. The tin just fell down."
Her mother stares at the green container in his hand, and for the first time in weeks, a tiny, faint glimmer of life returns to her eyes. She nods quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. "Okay. Let's have some tea."
Xiaoyu stands in the doorway, watching her father carefully measure out the fragrant leaves as the kettle begins to whistle. She smiles through her invisible tears, realizing that even from the shadows of existence, she can still find small ways to take care of her family.
在物理考试中说话所需的灵异能量让小语极度疲惫。整整两天，她的形态变得虚弱，几乎透明，在城市中飘荡。但随着周末的到来，她注意到一种奇怪的变化。她为许江和悦晨付出的有意行为并没有永久地削弱她：反而锚定了她。她的鬼魂存在感更强了，现在更加明确，对她自己的意志更加敏感。
周六晚上，她回到家里的公寓测试这种新的力量。
前门带着轻微的阻力穿过她，就像穿过厚重的窗帘一样。屋内窒息般地安静。电视关着，餐桌上只有两碗清淡的白粥。
她的父母从当地杂货店回来了，看起来完全疲惫不堪，情绪麻木。她的母亲倒在沙发上，外套还穿在身上，眼睛茫然地盯着墙壁。她的皮肤呈灰色，精神完全耗尽于持续、沉重的悲伤。她的父亲站在小厨房里，肩膀低垂，盯着水壶，看起来迷失了方向。
小语走进厨房，站在他身边。她非常渴望能安慰他们，给他们一个小小的信号，证明他们建立的这个家还没有完全失去温暖。
她抬头看向厨房橱柜的顶层架子上。上面放着一个绿色的小茶叶罐，里面装着高级茉莉花茶。那是她母亲最喜欢的混合茶，在她父亲过去美好时光里，每个周末都会为她泡的那种。
小语走近橱柜。她深吸一口气，将全部精神集中在茶叶罐光滑的金属表面。她想象着它的物理重量，像一股集中的风一样推动她的灵异能量。
"就一点点，"她对自己低语，用无形的手指按压着金属。
一道尖锐的静电火花在茶叶罐上噼啪作响。
随着一声清脆的刮擦声，绿色茶叶罐在架子上整整滑了两英寸。它撞到橱柜外缘，翻过边缘，哐当一声落在不锈钢台面上，正好落在她父亲的手旁边。
她父亲惊讶地跳开，心跳加速。他抬头看向高层架子，又低头看着安静地躺在水壶旁边的绿色茶叶罐。厨房里没有风。公寓窗户紧闭，抵御着春天的寒意。
他捡起茶叶罐，手指抚过冰凉的金属。一个深沉、悲伤的回忆表情掠过他的脸。他转过身，看向客厅里已经转向厨房方向的妻子，因为听到了那声响。
"小美，"她父亲轻轻地说，声音微微颤抖。"我……我想泡点茉莉花茶。茶叶罐刚刚掉下来了。"
她母亲盯着他手里的绿色容器，有生以来第一次，一丝微弱的生命气息回到了她的眼中。她轻轻点头，双臂搂着自己。"好。喝茶吧。"
小语站在门口，看着她父亲仔细地称量芬芳的茶叶，水壶开始鸣笛。她微笑着流下无形的泪水，意识到即使从存在的阴影中，她仍然可以找到照顾家人的小方法。