Chapter 120: Zhongli, the Mortician

At dawn, we set off toward the Jinsha River. By ten in the morning, we encountered a group of adventurous backpackers, some of whom were dedicated photographers. They were holding a map, searching for the legendary Blue Moon Valley. When they asked me for directions, I pointed them in the opposite direction. After some twists and turns, we finally made it back to Tiger Leaping Gorge Town by evening.

A month had passed, but to me, it felt like just a couple of days.

The owner of the No Cheating Inn, Big Bao, thought we had already left, so he was quite surprised when we suddenly reappeared. I joked that we had been captured by wild men and held captive for a month before escaping.

Big Bao didn’t ask too many questions. He opened a room for me and returned my motorcycle. Xu Jun and I had already agreed on the plan: I would ride the bike across Yunnan, enter Guizhou, then head to Hunan, and finally return to Jiangcheng. As for the possessing ghost and the starving ghost attached to Xu Xiaokang, I already had a solution—Pig-Ear Ghost, the spirit medium, had told me how to deal with them.

Xu Jun, on the other hand, would take a bus from Tiger Leaping Gorge Town to Lijiang and then fly back to Jiangcheng. If everything went as expected, I would arrive a day and a night later than them. Riding solo for thousands of miles, my biggest fear was getting lost. That night, I borrowed Big Bao’s computer to map out all the checkpoints along the way, took detailed notes, packed my things, and set off.

When I returned the computer, Big Bao mentioned the Wrinkled Granny, describing her as “just a crazy old woman, but with some strange abilities—the seven cats she keeps at home are all unusually fierce.”

“What did she do while we were gone for a month?” I asked curiously.

“She stayed at home. At first, we suspected you two had been harmed, but there was no evidence. She seemed completely at ease, not afraid at all. No one brought it up again. But it’s been a while since she’s been back.” Big Bao, as the owner of a small inn, knew everything that happened in the town.

On the morning of the seventeenth day of the seventh lunar month, I settled the bill with Big Bao for watching my motorcycle and paid for the lodging. Then, with a full tank of gas, I revved up the bike and sped off. Xu Jun and his family also took a bus to Lijiang.

Jiangcheng, I’m coming back.

The ride took nearly forty hours. When passing through Changsha, I was stopped by traffic police. The fake driver’s license Guo Shuai had made for me had long been ruined after falling into the Jinsha River. No matter how much I pleaded, the officers refused to let me go, saying that speeding on a motorcycle posed a danger to public safety.

Little Rascal started barking frantically. In desperation, I pretended my grandfather had just passed away and that I was rushing home for the funeral. Even the Jade Corpse shed fake tears. The officers, moved by pity, finally let me go. I slowed down and stuck to the side of the road—riding a motorcycle in the city was risky enough as it was.

From Changsha to Jiangcheng, my initial urgency gradually faded.

But I finally made it back. At five in the afternoon, right during rush hour, it took me two damn hours just to get from the city entrance to Chu Han Jun’s Auto Repair Shop. By the time I arrived, I was fuming. The sky was dimming, and neon lights had begun to flicker on.

…

As soon as I parked the bike, Little Rascal jumped out and trotted straight into the flower shop. Yu Yuwei was sitting inside. When she saw me return, then glanced at the Jade Corpse and Xie Lingyu standing nearby, her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

Jun was about to close up for the day and wanted to grab a drink, but I asked him to fix my bike first—drinking could wait until tomorrow.

I called Xu Jun first, telling him I had made it back to Jiangcheng safely, albeit with some close calls. I needed to find something first, and once I did, I’d accompany him to that old building to deal with the possessing ghost.

Xu Jun thanked me repeatedly and asked for the flower shop’s address. Less than two hours later, a same-city courier delivered two brand-new phones.

Next, I called Jiese, asking if his Diamond Sutra study group had finished. He said he still had about a month left.

Then I asked about him and Zhong Li.

“Nosy!” Jiese cursed before hanging up.

After sitting in the flower shop for a while, Yu Yuwei filled us in on the business. Xie Lingyu listened attentively, occasionally praising her.

Back at Unit 4, Apartment 404, Xie Lingyu started cleaning. I was utterly exhausted and collapsed onto the bed, asleep instantly.

At two in the morning, the new phone rang urgently.

“Xiao Qi, emergency! Where are you now?” It was Jiese’s voice.

“What’s wrong? I’m at home,” I answered, quickly putting on clothes. From his tone, something bad must have happened.

“Grab your gear. I’ll be at your place in ten minutes.” He hung up decisively.

I packed my jade ruler, compass, and pre-drawn talismans. Since he hadn’t told me what was going on, I didn’t have time to prepare everything. I even scooped up the still-sleeping Little Rascal. The Jade Corpse probably wanted to come, but I left her with Xie Lingyu, promising to return soon.

“Be careful,” Xie Lingyu urged, handing me a jacket and slipping a fruit knife into my pocket.

Sure enough, before I even reached the ground floor, I heard the roar of a motorcycle. Jiese skidded to a stop, kicking up dust, and tossed me a helmet.

“Let’s go. I’ll explain on the way.” I put on the helmet, hopped onto the bike, and we sped off with a sharp turn. At the gate, we ran into Xu Guangsheng, the night watchman, who eyed the little black dog in my arms.

“Master, when did you get back?” Xu Guangsheng asked.

“Today. Lift the bar, will you?” I shouted. He stepped forward, offering a cigarette. “Hope you don’t mind it’s not a fancy brand.”

“Baisha cigarettes? I love this flavor.”

As soon as the bar was raised, Jiese revved the engine and we were off. On the way, he explained, “Something happened with Zhong Li tonight.”

I thought to myself, so these two really are together—has this monk broken his vow of celibacy?

We raced to the funeral home where Zhong Li worked. Jiese parked, removed his helmet, and strode inside, calling Zhong Li as he walked.

I noticed the small parking lot was packed with taxis.

Less than two minutes later, Zhong Li emerged from the staff entrance in a white uniform. “Xiao Qi, I’ll keep it brief. An elderly woman was brought in tonight, but… she’s not quite right. I’ve locked her in the makeup room.”

She handed us two white coats and masks. Jiese and I quickly suited up.

Inside the funeral home, the sound of weeping echoed. Down the hall, a man in a black hat sat on a bench, staring blankly ahead, silent.

The Soul Reaper was here again.

The funeral home had several private rooms of varying sizes and prices.

From another room nearby, intermittent sobs could be heard—a young boy’s cries, sharp as needles piercing the heart.

“Ah…” I sighed deeply. After changing into the white coat, I went through a quick sterilization routine in a workroom.

“The family outside still doesn’t know what’s happening. I haven’t told them,” Zhong Li said, her expression grave, eyes red and swollen from crying.

“Don’t worry. Now that Master Xiao is here, everything will be fine,” Jiese reassured her, giving her shoulder a gentle pat.

Inside the makeup room, the elderly woman sat on the bed, her back to the window—startling even me.

So this was the “strangeness” Zhong Li mentioned: the corpse sitting up.

Through the window, I could see a pair of old-fashioned cloth shoes.

Zhong Li explained:

The woman was from the countryside, having raised three sons and two daughters. In her old age, alone and destitute, she was brought to Jiangcheng to live. But her children were too busy, so they bought her a small, isolated apartment. Tragically, when she was finally discovered, she had already been dead for three days—likely from gas poisoning. Her home, however, was spotless, meticulously cleaned.

Furious, I cursed, “Those ungrateful children should all be shot!”

“Have you figured anything out?” Zhong Li, accustomed to strange occurrences from working at the funeral home, remained calm as she watched me.

Death by gas poisoning meant revival was impossible.

“Let me take another look…” I frowned, studying the scene carefully.

“Could it be… a ghost possession?” I mused aloud after a moment.

“You really think that’s possible?” Zhong Li’s composure wavered slightly. Jiese quickly asked, “What can we do now?”

“I’ll go in and talk to her.” I exchanged a few words with the monk. Back in Blue Moon Valley, Pig-Ear Ghost had taught me how to handle possessions.

Ghosts with lingering resentment could possess, but since the old woman had died of poisoning and her body was frail, the threat was significantly diminished.

After the family’s farewell ceremony, Zhong Li was supposed to prepare the body. If we delayed too long, they’d notice something was wrong. We couldn’t wait.

Leaving Little Rascal outside, I pushed open the door. The room wasn’t thick with resentment, but my skin still prickled.

The old woman’s eyes rolled toward me as she sat on the bed, her wrinkled hands resting on her knees—hands that had toiled all her life, never knowing a day of peace.

Her moving eyes ruled out reanimation. Besides, in a place as sterile as a funeral home, reanimation was unlikely.

The movement suggested possession.

Half of her face had already been made up, giving it a plump, hydrated appearance. The other half remained sunken with age spots, dehydrated and withered. Her white hair had been neatly combed, and she wore a well-fitted, old-style black padded jacket.

Zhong Li’s skills were clearly top-notch.

“You…” I began, “Why do you linger in this world? The cycle of life and death—what keeps you here?”

“I… can’t die. I still have sons to take care of… I can’t die,” the old woman rasped.