Chapter 28: The Shade Corpse

He knocked down a shadow corpse, wrapped red threads around its body, and stuffed two packets of floral foam into its nose and mouth with a squishy sound. Once the ears and nose were blocked, with no breath entering, it would lose its vitality.

I thought to myself, last time I also blocked Huang’s mouth, why was he still able to escape? I tossed the remaining floral foam to Shen Yihu. “Plug up his lower exit too. I’ll go after the other one.”

Shen Yihu cursed but still caught the floral foam, stepped forward, pried open the shadow corpse’s legs, and stuffed the remaining foam into its exposed rear.

The shadow corpse that ran away sensed danger and fled, which worried me. That yin energy might have been absorbed by it.

After running a few steps, my foot stumbled on something, kicking a black bag. A white skull rolled out from inside. I thought the scar-faced doctor had packed money when he fled, but it turned out to be a human skull.

I guessed this must be the skull Bai Yu hadn’t found for years. Picking it up, I chased after the shadow corpse. Soon, in the woods beside the hospital, I spotted the escaped shadow corpse.

In its hands was none other than the scar-faced doctor. Why was it heading into the woods?

The scar-faced doctor was already unconscious. The shadow corpse tossed him aside and began digging frantically at the ground, as if intending to bury him. Its hair and fingernails grew longer at an alarming rate, quickly carving out a small pit. The light was too dim for me to see its expression clearly, but in the darkness, its eyes seemed to glisten—was it crying?

The scar-faced doctor groggily opened his eyes and let out a cold chuckle.

“You… all of you… you’re all scum. You all deserve to die,” the scar-faced doctor laughed.

He had gone mad.

For some reason, in that moment, I steadied myself and didn’t rush forward. If karma was real, then the scar-faced doctor being killed by the shadow corpse—wasn’t that some kind of justice?

The shadow corpse soon dug something else out of the woods—a heavy, wrapped bundle. Holding it, the shadow corpse let out a cry that echoed through the night, like a cat in heat, mewling softly.

The bundle clinked and clanked… like the sound of stainless steel surgical tools.

The scar-faced doctor laughed maniacally. “This set of tools was used to kill Bai Yu. I stripped her clothes, cut up her beautiful face with these blades… heh… she came at night… just like this night…”

The shadow corpse dug another pit, then jumped to another spot, repeating the same motion. Soon, it unearthed another bundle, which clattered as if filled with keys.

The scar-faced doctor giggled. “This set was used to kill Tian Han. When he came, I thought his hands were so delicate… I liked him… I had just put on Bai Yu’s skin… he actually said I looked beautiful…”

Hearing the name “Tian Han,” the shadow corpse became even more sorrowful and resumed digging, pulling out yet another bundle. It threw it to the ground with a clang—another set of stainless steel surgical tools.

The scar-faced doctor stood up as if dancing. “Isn’t this what killed you? I gave you anesthesia, and you just stared at me with wide eyes while I laughed and laughed… I was the gentlest with you… dying under anesthesia, what pain could there be? Oh, what was your name again?”

The nameless shadow corpse bared a row of pearly white teeth, reeking of formaldehyde, and lunged forward. With a snap, it bit off both of the scar-faced doctor’s ears, its mouth now dripping with blood.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Beast, you cannot kill!”

The shadow corpse lifted its head as if understanding me, grabbed two scattered scalpels from the ground, and pinned the scar-faced doctor’s hands to the earth. Blood quickly pooled beneath him.

The scar-faced doctor’s agonized screams carried far. Two drunken students returning from a night out shuddered, jolting awake. “What was that? Did someone just scream?”

Two more forceps stabbed into the scar-faced doctor’s legs.

The shadow corpse stood up and chittered at me. From its gaping mouth, a wisp of black yin energy emerged—undoubtedly Bai Yu’s spirit.

From the hospital’s second floor, Han Zongnan’s despairing wail rang out, dissolving into the endless night sky along with the yin energy.

Just as the *Compendium* said: ordinary shadow corpses were usually kind. Their purpose was simple—once vengeance was done, they harmed no one else.

In the end, I didn’t step forward to stop the scar-faced doctor’s bleeding. Instead, I pursued the nameless shadow corpse.

Staring into its white pupils, I said, “You shouldn’t linger in this world. Your soul is already scattered. Staying will turn you into a corpse demon.”

The shadow corpse bared its fangs threateningly, its fingers now grotesquely elongated, as if warning me not to interfere.

“I shouldn’t have let you harm others in the first place,” I said. “You can’t leave now.”

The shadow corpse let out a guttural screech. I shook my head. “I’m a feng shui master. I can’t let you go.” It lunged at me, but it didn’t seem intent on harming me. With no other choice, I smeared the last of the floral foam over its face, sealing its ears and nose. Then I wound red threads around its body eighteen times for good measure before driving a steel nail into its spine.

Only then did the nameless shadow corpse stop struggling.

From start to finish, it had never wanted to hurt me. It had just wanted to leave—to escape this place reeking of medicine.

Tears soaked my clothes as I sat on the ground, sighing. Five meters ahead, something glowed faintly in the darkness—something the shadow corpse had wanted.

I stood and walked forward. Under the dim light, I found a single rose lying on the ground, delicate and beautiful. I picked it up and placed it in the shadow corpse’s hand. Who had it wanted to give this to? A lover? Or someone else?

Shakespeare once wrote: *A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.* The shadow corpse’s fingers suddenly clenched tightly around the flower, refusing to let go.

I carried it back inside and laid it beside the subdued shadow corpse named Tian Han. In the formaldehyde-filled hallway, in the darkness that couldn’t obscure the profound sorrow of existence, it was as if everyone could see that rose—still fragrant in the dark.

Han Zongnan’s arms stretched forward as if cradling Bai Yu. To me, he was an extraordinary man. With his pure, youthful love, he had dissolved Bai Yu’s decade-long resentment. Without him, I wouldn’t have resolved this so easily.

“Has she gone?” I asked.

Han Zongnan snapped, “Who are you? Who gave you the right to interfere? If it weren’t for you, I might have had a chance to see her again. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have vanished into the mortal world. If it weren’t for you, my heart wouldn’t ache like this. If it weren’t for you, everything would have ended perfectly.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Shen Yihu leaned against the wall, smoking in silence like a philosopher.

What could I do? I chose silence. Han Zongnan left, his arms still outstretched as if Bai Yu slept peacefully in them—lonely yet fragrant.

Shen Yihu said, “Xiao Qi, no one will understand what you do. They’ll blame you, so you’ll be lonely—lonely as a drenched stray dog in the rain, lonely as a solitary traveler in a sea of flowers. In this vast, bustling world, you’ll never truly belong. You’ll wander outside of it…”

I burst into laughter but couldn’t finish.

He Xiao, exhausted, lay fast asleep on the ground. I picked it up. Normally, it would’ve recoiled from my scent, but now it slept soundly, unfazed by the stench of spoiled soy milk clinging to me.

“Miss He Qingling, thank you. I’ll buy you fish when we get back,” I murmured. It was too deep in slumber to hear. People say cats are spiritual—now I believed it more than ever.

Shen Yihu followed me out. The campus hospital suddenly blazed with light as powerful lamps illuminated the scene. A crowd rushed in, surrounding me.

Shen Yihu flashed his badge. “He’s with me.”

In the woods, the scar-faced doctor’s white coat hung in tatters from an unknown tree. Surgical blades pinned his limbs as he dangled from a noose.

Before him lay his black bag, its zipper somehow open, revealing a pale human skull staring blankly at the doctor’s skinned face.

For some reason, it felt like divine retribution.

Chen Tutu carried a white toolbox filled with evidence collection tools. Soon, both shadow corpses, the scar-faced doctor, and the scattered surgical instruments were taken away.

Chen Tutu glanced at the white skull and shuddered. She couldn’t explain why the pristine bone made her so uneasy.

“I need to take it in for questioning,” she said.

“Medical Examiner Chen,” I asked, “did the scar-faced doctor hang himself?”

She shot me a glare. “If someone stabbed blades into your hands and legs, could you climb up and hang yourself?”

My stomach dropped. Had it been Han Zongnan? I thought he had left, heartbroken, carrying Bai Yu’s lingering presence. But instead, he had killed the scar-faced doctor.

“Medical Examiner Chen,” I warned, “tell everyone to be careful. Don’t let the floral foam fall out of those two’s mouths.” She gave me a fierce look, thinking I was holding a grudge.

Within half an hour, Han Zongnan was arrested and locked in the same car as me. Shen Yihu had vanished.

“Did you kill him in the end?” I asked.

Han Zongnan shook his head. “No.”

I believed him. A man of such deep feeling wouldn’t lie. “Since we’re sharing this ride, it’s fate,” I said. “Tell me how you met Bai Yu.”

“Two years ago, on a night when I hadn’t finished my figure-drawing assignment, I wandered the campus aimlessly. Under a dim light, I saw Bai Yu and felt inspired to sketch her,” he said. “From that day, I couldn’t forget her. I dreamed of her often. To see her again, I waited under that light for a year.”

I understood his pain. Listening to him, I couldn’t help but feel moved—though deep down, he still resented me.

The car carrying us drove smoothly. It was May Day, so the streets were quiet. He Xiao, curled on my lap, slowly opened its eyes.

Han Zongnan said quietly, “Still… thank you.”

He Xiao, unwillingly resting on me, grew restless and let out two sharp meows.

A sense of foreboding washed over me. I tore a strip from my shirt, tied the jade ruler to He Xiao’s back, and patted its head. “Be careful on your way. Find Xie Lingyu. Tell her to be careful—something might happen to me. I might not make it back for a while.”

Han Zongnan had been arrested as a murder suspect. Sharing a car with him, I was clearly under suspicion too.

When the car stopped at the Jiangcheng Criminal Police headquarters, the door opened. He Xiao, black as night with the jade ruler strapped to it, slipped silently to the ground.

Within half an hour, news came: Shen Yihu had been suspended, and I was under investigation for murder.

In a nearby room, I saw the straw-hatted “Old Five” lounging with his legs crossed, chatting with a portly man.