“I know,” I said, biting my lip.
The ghost possessing the old woman might be a respectable father, the only thing weighing on his mind being his son.
“You know nothing! I worked my fingers to the bone every day just so my son could have a better life,” the old woman continued.
I noticed that when the old woman lay on the bed, her feet splayed outward in a V-shape.
This was a common posture among long-time drivers, a habit formed from years behind the wheel.
“I understand,” I nodded.
“You understand nothing! I rented a cab and drove it myself, only to be smashed to pieces by a bunch of spoiled rich kids racing their cars for fun…” The old woman’s lips trembled as she spoke, revealing the few remaining teeth in her mouth.
So, he was a driver.
To be precise, a taxi driver who worked the night shift and was shattered by some reckless idiot in a speeding car.
Ghosts usually retain some of their kindness after leaving their bodies. The three ethereal souls and seven corporeal spirits can stay connected for a while, but if the wisdom spirit scatters over time, they turn into malevolent ghosts. Especially vengeful spirits returning after seven days—they tend to be particularly cruel.
I had to act fast, to drive the ghost out and give the poor old woman some peace.
“We can negotiate compensation, and those bastards will be caught. The underworld has arrangements for this. You should leave in peace,” I said, suppressing my pity and raising my voice.
The old woman’s eyes locked onto me, then suddenly flared with intensity. Her frail body jerked with unexpected strength.
Just as I feared, her withered hands clamped around my throat.
“Weren’t we just talking fine a second ago?” I finally lost my temper and cursed at him.
Luckily, the nails that had grown after death had been trimmed by Zhong Li, or else they might have pierced my windpipe right then and there, ending me instantly.
I pried at the bony fingers—apparently, I was too easy to bully. Every zombie and ghost seemed to go straight for my neck, and the worst were those disgusting creatures that tried to kiss me.
The taxi driver’s desperate will to survive grew stronger, his benevolent side fading fast, replaced by malice. His grip tightened.
My mind was still clear. I reached for the jade ruler I carried, and the golden compass I had tucked away clattered to the floor.
A strange, auspicious light seemed to emanate from the golden compass. Gripping the jade ruler, I pressed it against the old woman’s abdomen—right at her navel.
Her body collapsed to the ground. Freeing my hands, I slapped a talisman on her forehead and another on her chest. When I pressed down, I could feel the withered flesh beneath.
Those shriveled breasts had once been full, nourishing three sons and two daughters.
The old woman convulsed twice, then lay still.
“Come in, hurry and do her makeup. Have her children come in one by one to say their final goodbyes…” I said.
The taxi driver ghost inside her had been temporarily suppressed.
Zhong Li took out her makeup kit. Since the goal with the elderly was to make them look serene, the process wasn’t too complicated. One side of the face was already done; the other wouldn’t take long.
Tears welled in Zhong Li’s eyes as she worked.
Afraid the taxi driver might stir again, I urged her to hurry.
In less than ten minutes, it was done. A white cloth draped over the body, folded just enough to reveal the face. I pocketed the jade ruler, motioned for Jie Se to help, and together with Zhong Li, we wheeled the bed toward the mourning hall.
“Finally, the family members will enter one by one to bid their last farewell,” Zhong Li said, her voice trembling but controlled.
I couldn’t help but think that people with too much emotion weren’t suited for this line of work. Zhong Li definitely wasn’t cut out for it.
The family members hesitated, reluctant to face a corpse alone—cold, lifeless, no breath left.
“Haven’t we already said our goodbyes? Why do we have to do it again?” one of the daughters protested. There had been unpleasant disputes before over the old woman’s care.
“She was your mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, aunt. Your family. She’s about to be cremated. Can’t you even give her one last moment alone?” Jie Se suddenly snapped, his anger palpable.
The eldest son finally went in first, kneeling and weeping bitterly, as if remembering years ago in their mud-brick home, when the family could barely afford a fish. His mother had smiled and said, “Eat more, children. I don’t like fish anyway.” Now, his tears were useless—where had he been when it mattered?
One by one, they entered to say goodbye.
I pulled Jie Se aside for a smoke. Passing by a young man in a black cap—likely the old woman’s college-aged grandson—I didn’t linger.
Only after the last farewell did Zhong Li approach, gritting her teeth. “If I ever have ungrateful children, I’ll haunt them after I die.”
“You might feel differently when you’re a mother,” I sighed.
The smoke curled upward, disappearing into the night.
“Miss Zhong, you must make good money doing this, right?” I’d always been curious—few people were willing to do this job unless the pay was substantial.
“Not really. Maybe around four thousand a month,” Zhong Li said, as if expecting disbelief. “Our team leader might get a bit more, around five thousand.”
So little—and with all the late-night shifts, no proper rest. It seemed every profession had its hardships. Even high schoolers these days woke at six and didn’t sleep until midnight.
“Why did you make them go in one by one at the end?” Jie Se asked, puzzled.
“I trapped the taxi driver’s spirit inside the old woman’s body. Having them enter alone gave the soul reaper a chance to speak with him privately. The reaper was possessing the college kid in the black cap. That way, the reaper could negotiate with the driver and take him away without revealing his identity,” I whispered.
I glanced around, wary of the reaper watching from the shadows.
Jie Se’s jaw dropped. He raised a thumb in silent praise. I stubbed out my cigarette, tossed it in the trash, and glanced at another room where a child’s loud cries had faded into quiet sobs.
“I’ll go check on them. If you two want to sneak off, I won’t stop you,” I said, waving a hand as I walked into the darkness.
“What nonsense are you spouting, you little fraud?” Zhong Li snapped.
“Miss Zhong, I happen to have a few hotel VIP cards… if you’re interested,” Jie Se scratched his head.
……
I clapped my hands, and Little Rascal came running, an old woman’s cloth shoe in his mouth. The shoe smelled faintly of disinfectant and a lingering trace of decay. The fabric was clean—her daughters certainly hadn’t washed them.
Had the old woman put them on just before dying? A dark thought crossed my mind: maybe she had dressed neatly, tidied her home, closed all the windows and doors, placed a cold photograph beside her, then turned on the gas in the kitchen…
I stopped myself. Tucking the shoe away, I ran my fingers over the strange golden compass. Older compasses like this often had strong protective properties, so its sudden glow had startled me.
In another room, people gathered around a black-and-white portrait of a hardworking, kind man—a young father.
This must be the one who had possessed the old woman.
Outside, a dozen taxis were parked, all night-shift drivers who had come to pay respects.
I spotted Shi Dake holding a little boy—no older than five or six, even younger than Xu Xiaokang. I watched from a distance, then turned away.
Shi Dake set the boy down. “Xiao Ming, don’t worry. I’ll find the man who did this.” He tightened his black jacket and spoke to the other drivers.
“Brother, are you still working tonight? Can you give me a ride?” I called out.
Shi Dake squinted at me. “You’re that cross-dresser from the other night…” He hadn’t forgotten the ridiculous ghost story.
“Cross-dresser? I was the one *listening* to the ghost story about a cross-dresser…” I scowled.
He clapped me on the shoulder. “I’m looking for someone, but I’ll drop you off if it’s on the way.” I picked up Little Rascal and followed him.
The green taxi’s radio played late-night ghost stories, but the usually chatty Shi Dake was silent.
He turned off the radio and picked up the walkie-talkie. “Listen up, everyone…”
“Go ahead, Brother Shi,” crackled the response.
“First, Xiao Ming has lost his father. From now on, we’re all his fathers. Second, keep an eye out for that red sports car—it still has Old Li’s blood on it. Don’t let the bastard wash it off.” He set the walkie-talkie down. The taxis outside the funeral home roared to life, fanning out across the city in search of the red car.
Headlights flashed, horns blared—a final salute to Old Li before they vanished into the night.
“Did you all know Old Li well?” I asked, fighting back emotion.
“Old Li raised his kid alone, pinching pennies to send him to the best kindergarten. How could we *not* know him? He ate scraps to save money, but made sure his boy had beef and soup every day. How could we forget him? He’d only play poker for one-yuan stakes—how could we *not* know him?” Shi Dake muttered, driving slowly, scanning the usual racing spots.
I wanted to tell them the culprit was probably long gone by now, hiding somewhere they’d never find.
But if Shi Dake and the others didn’t do this, they’d never have peace.
The compass needle twitched in my hand. I pulled it out, watching it spin faster and faster, warmth spreading in my chest.
Down the street, the soul reaper led a man by the hand—the same man from the funeral portrait, Old Li himself.
Shuffling forward.
Lingering for one last look at the world.
“I’ll help you find that red car,” I swore through gritted teeth.
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