Nurturing Corpses

"What? My granddad broke his leg!" Runsheng froze in shock. Grandpa Shan had fished him out of the river as an infant and raised him. Though the two of them often lived meal-to-meal, whenever the food ran out, they starved together. Their bond was deep and genuine. Tan Wenbin’s eyebrows leaped with excitement. He wanted nothing more than to spin pirouettes on one toe right where he stood—at long last, he had a chance to see a real dead-flipper! Li Zhuiyuan, on the other hand, felt a twinge of guilt. Counting back the days, it coincided almost exactly with when he had won all that cash playing cards in Xiting Town, after which Grandpa Shan had taken half the winnings. *Sigh. Dirty money really is hard to spend safely.* "What are you standing there gawking for?" Li Sanjiang barked at Runsheng. "Hurry up, pack your gear, and let's move!" "Oh, right!" Runsheng dashed inside to fetch his tools. This trip wasn't just to see his grandfather; he had a job to do. "Grandpa Li, I want to go too! Take me with you!" Tan Wenbin practically glued himself to Li Sanjiang, terrified he would get left behind again. "Fine, fine, fine, you can come along." Li Sanjiang agreed without fuss. The caller had explained over the phone that the dead-flipper kept bobbing up and down along a specific stretch of the river. Several villagers had spotted it, but whenever a crowd gathered to search, it vanished without a trace. A floater like that wasn't particularly dangerous; it just took tedious effort to locate. Bringing an extra pair of hands was reasonable enough. "Great-Grandpa." "What is it, Xiaoyuan Hou?" "I want to go visit Grandpa Shan too." "As you should. Come along, then." Anxious to see his grandfather, Runsheng pedaled the tricycle at breakneck speed. The three sitting in the back clung tightly to the cart’s edges, cramped and uneasy. Three bulky bundles of equipment took up most of the cart bed. Li Sanjiang's gear, Li Zhuiyuan's gear, and Runsheng's own gear—Runsheng had loaded every last bit of it. "Hey now, Runsheng Hou," Li Sanjiang grumbled. "Why’d you pack so much junk? We're going to fish out a dead-flipper, not build a two-story house for your family!" Runsheng didn't answer. He was pedaling so fast that the wind whistled in his ears, drowning out the complaint from behind. Li Sanjiang didn't bother wasting any more breath. Pulling his luopan from his robe, he began checking its alignments with deadpan solemnity. Li Zhuiyuan pulled his purple luopan from his bag and began calibrating it as well. Since they were hunting for a dead-flipper, this was an absolute necessity. As for the one in his great-grandfather’s hands, it was useless for finding floaters; its only practical application would be leading an expedition to Antarctica to look for penguins. When they pulled up outside Grandpa Shan's home, they could see straight through the half-collapsed perimeter wall into the yard. Grandpa Shan was sitting alone, his plastered leg propped up on a wooden stool. He held a sweet potato, peeling and eating it while his false teeth rested on a side table. Li Sanjiang hopped off the tricycle, his voice arriving well ahead of his feet. "Hey there, Shan Pao! Even if your teeth are shot, you didn't have to go slurping raw sewage, did you?" The sweet potato slipped from Grandpa Shan's fingers and hit the dirt. Realizing the old codger already knew about his plunge into the cesspit, his wrinkled face flushed crimson. He snatched his crutch, scrambling to hobble inside and slam the door shut. In his flustered haste, he lost his balance and crashed flat onto the ground. Footsteps were already closing in from behind. Fuming with humiliation, Grandpa Shan slammed his fist against the dirt and bit his lip so hard it went white. Li Sanjiang reached down, hauled him upright, and set him on the stool before dusting off the grime clinging to his clothes. "Who asked you to come!" Grandpa Shan huffed, glowering. Ignoring the sharp tongue, Li Sanjiang chuckled. "Shan Pao, when something goes wrong, you ought to send word to me. We've been old partners for decades, after all. Honestly now, don't you go kicking the bucket without a word. I'd be lonely." The words were spoken with heartfelt sincerity, and the scowl on Grandpa Shan's face softened. "Sanjiang Hou..." "Even if you want to die, you can't go drowning in a cesspit! It’s one thing if people pull you out early, but if you actually soaked in there overnight, I’d have to hold my nose while dressing you in your shroud during the funeral rites! Think of how filthy that’d be!" Grandpa Shan: "..." Li Sanjiang pulled out two cigarettes, tucked one between his own lips, and shoved the other into Grandpa Shan's mouth. Then he cast a sideways glance and called out, "Zhuangzhuang." "On it!" Tan Wenbin pulled out a matchbox, struck a match, and lit the cigarettes for Li Sanjiang and Grandpa Shan in turn. "Shan Pao, come stay at my place until your leg heals. You can move back then." "I'm not going. It's just one broken leg. I can feed myself just fine; it's no big deal." "Then should I send Runsheng back to look after you?" Grandpa Shan muttered under his breath for a moment, then shook his head. "No need. Runsheng is doing well at your place—eating well, sleeping well, growing sturdier by the day. The lad's living a good life; why should an old man hold him back?" It sounded touching, but Li Sanjiang just waved a hand and said, "Runsheng Hou, run inside and check the rice vat and oil jar." Runsheng ran inside and came sprinting back out moments later, astonishment written all over his face. "Grandpa, did you really sell all the rice, flour, and oil we bought you last time?" To sell provisions like that, you had to scrape them loose from the vats and peddle them in small scoops. Just how desperate had he been to do something like that? Grandpa Shan blew out a ring of smoke, hoping it would veil the embarrassment on his face. "I don't know what got into me those two days. Every hand dealt was huge, yet I lost every single time. Losing again and again, but with every hand dangling hope right in front of me... It was plain uncanny." "Hah! So you didn't want Runsheng back because you were afraid you wouldn't have enough sweet potatoes to feed him, didn't you?" Grandpa Shan turned his head away, remaining silent. "I say, you old Shan Pao, you're a grandfather after all! Even if you don't leave anything behind for your grandson, you shouldn't squander everything away like this! In a few years, when Runsheng Hou needs to find a wife, look at this dilapidated shack—what family would let their daughter marry him? "Now look at me! Look at how I'm building up an estate for my Xiaoyuan Hou! The city might be out of reach, but in the countryside for miles around, won't my Xiaoyuan Hou have his pick of all the finest lasses?" Grandpa Shan seized on the core of that statement at once. "What happened? Xiaoyuan Hou can't go back to the capital?" Li Sanjiang’s expression curdled, and he took a harsh, bitter pull from his cigarette. "What did you do? You went and lost the boy's capital household registration?" "Shut your trap!" "You stop lecturing me, and I'll shut up. Otherwise, I'll give you a proper earful about how precious that registration really is." Li Zhuiyuan walked up to Grandpa Shan and asked softly, "Grandpa Shan, your leg isn't too badly hurt, is it?" "Not bad, not bad at all. It'll mend with rest." Grandpa Shan waved his hand, visibly embarrassed. When he took the money last time, he hadn't known the truth. It was only when he returned to the gambling table later that he heard the whole story: the one who had actually played and won the cards was the little kid, not the older boy. Runsheng had merely run errands, the stake had belonged to Xiaoyuan Hou, and yet he had shamelessly pocketed half the winnings. Except the money was completely gone now, and he couldn't repay a single copper. Thinking about what he had done filled him with burning shame. "Runsheng Hou," Grandpa Shan said, turning his gaze toward the youth. "Listen to Xiaoyuan Hou from now on." With no money to pay back, all he could offer was his grandson's loyalty. Runsheng nodded earnestly. "Grandpa, I understand." "Have they arrived? Hey, are you here yet?" A shout drifted over from outside. It was the local village chief, the one who had made the phone call earlier. Grandpa Shan still didn't know why they had come. "What's that about?" Li Sanjiang grumbled sourly, "If a dead-flipper hadn't popped up in your village, we wouldn't even know you'd broken your leg!" "Then hurry on out and get to work." "Right." Li Sanjiang was about to stand when his great-grandson spoke up: "Great-Grandpa, stay here and keep Grandpa Shan company. Brother Runsheng can go on his own." Grandpa Shan looked worried. "Can Runsheng manage it on his own? Isn't he still a bit green?" Li Zhuiyuan replied, "Grandpa Shan, Brother Runsheng might have been green in the past, but ever since he started following my great-grandpa, he's changed. You'll see." Grandpa Shan curled his lips. "You sly little Xiaoyuan Hou." Li Sanjiang beamed with pride at the compliment. Patting his knees, he said, "Fine! Let Runsheng Hou go look for that dead-flipper first. If there's any trouble, come running right back to get me." Having successfully coaxed his great-grandfather into staying put, Li Zhuiyuan gestured toward Runsheng. Runsheng caught on immediately. Shouldering one set of corpse-retrieving gear, he tossed Li Zhuiyuan's smaller set over to Tan Wenbin. The three of them followed the village chief down toward a stretch of the river. The water channel wasn't very wide, but dense woods lined both banks, and thick reeds crowded the water's edge, severely obstructing the view. "It’s this stretch right here," the village chief explained. "Over the last few days, several folks have come telling me they saw a dead body floating out there. I brought men down here a few times to look, but we came up empty every single time. It's the strangest thing. "Why don't you boys search first? Once you find it and need hands to pull it out, come get me in the village. I've got some urgent business to look after back there." Runsheng nodded. "Alright, Chief. Go on and attend to your business." The chief pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Runsheng. Runsheng declined, Xiaoyuan was far too young, and in the end, only Tan Wenbin accepted one, tucking it behind his ear. Once the village chief left, Li Zhuiyuan stood by the riverbank holding his luopan. The chief’s hasty departure made it obvious he didn't hold much hope of finding the corpse today either. He had likely already organized villagers to search this stretch multiple times to no avail. Calling in corpse retrievers was merely treating a dead horse as if it were alive—a token effort to satisfy the villagers' anxiety. Tan Wenbin had fully entered the spirit of things. With a deadpan, serious look, he asked, "Brother Xiaoyuan, should Runsheng and I split up and search along the river?" "Brother Binbin, you go ahead. Brother Runsheng stays with me." "Is it because my observational skills are sharper than his?" "It's because if Brother Runsheng isn't right beside me, I'm afraid I won't be safe." "Then... then I'll stay right by your side to protect you too." Li Zhuiyuan knew he was being overly jumpy. Nothing supernatural had happened in the village, and the villagers who spotted the floater had walked away unharmed, meaning the dead-flipper was almost certainly just an ordinary drowned corpse. Yet after uncovering a Southern Liang water burial right inside Siyuan Village, he truly dared not be overconfident. It was far better to err on the side of caution. Holding the luopan level, he walked slowly along the bank. After covering a long stretch, he detected no anomaly in the feng shui currents, nor did he spot any trace of a dead-flipper. Tan Wenbin asked, "Could it have drifted downstream to another stretch?" "Possible," Li Zhuiyuan said, pointing toward the surface. "Or there might be a sinkhole or drain somewhere along the riverbed that sucked the body down." "Such things exist in rivers?" "Just like the drain plug at the bottom of a bathtub." "Doesn't that mean we'd have to dive in to find it? Hey, you brought so much gear—why didn't you think to pack oxygen tanks?" Runsheng answered, "This gear is specially made for dealing with dead-flippers that can move." "Ooh, good stuff!" Tan Wenbin patted the burlap sack on his back with newfound respect. Before they realized it, they had reached a sharp bend in the river. Ahead stood a newly constructed bridge. Li Zhuiyuan halted. They had thoroughly walked the entire stretch described by the village chief and had turned up nothing. Tan Wenbin nudged Runsheng's arm. "Hey, have you ever run into a situation like this before—coming to fish out a dead-flipper and not being able to find it?" "I have. I remember back then, my grandpa and your great-grandpa would set up an offering table and perform a ritual to 'summon the person,' coaxing it to float up on its own." Hearing that, Tan Wenbin leaned in beside Li Zhuiyuan. "Brother Xiaoyuan, do you know how to do that?" Li Zhuiyuan frowned slightly. Tan Wenbin immediately added, "It's fine! Doesn't matter if you don't. You're still the greatest in my book, brother." Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. He did know how. The texts from Wei Zhengdao as well as the Qin and Liu families contained quite a few methods for "summoning the person." The problem was that his great-grandpa and Grandpa Shan had probably only learned the hollow ritual motions. If it worked, they took credit for great skill; if it failed, they blamed the corpse for being stubborn—it was entirely a matter of luck. He, however, could genuinely select a site based on feng shui currents and establish a ritual to stir the corpse. He actually knew the real thing. And the more real knowledge he possessed, the more hesitant he was to use it recklessly. What if the dead-flipper had drifted far away long ago? Moreover, grave mounds dotted the surrounding hills, and he knew nothing of the river’s deeper currents. If he performed a summons and instead of calling up the drowned corpse, he provoked some unknown, bizarre entity, what would he do then? "Let's cross the bridge. We'll walk back along the other bank." Li Zhuiyuan stepped onto the bridge. It was built of concrete slabs, three slabs wide, without guardrails. When he reached the middle of the span, Li Zhuiyuan suddenly sensed a shift in the surrounding energetic atmosphere. Glancing down, he saw the luopan needle twitching erratically. Silently chanting the *Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula*, he completed a slow circle in place, then stopped, calculating from the needles within the inner and outer rings of the compass. Runsheng stood beside him in silence. Tan Wenbin craned his neck, sneaking curious peeks. He thought Xiaoyuan looked remarkably impressive twirling around with that luopan. It was a shame the boy was so young; if he were older, with that poise and presence, what small factory owner wouldn't hire him to perform a blessing before opening shop? Li Zhuiyuan stamped his foot lightly. Walking along the riverbank earlier, he hadn't noticed it, but once on this bridge, he realized the span sat directly upon a dragon-throttling position. Though the river was small and the dragon was as tiny as a dragon could be, the overall pattern was complete. Looking around at the terrain, it was exceptionally rare to see a bridge built right at a river bend; bridges were almost always placed along straight stretches. Still, even a dragon-throttling position wasn't inherently extraordinary, let alone an ominous death point. *Unless someone deliberately manipulated it to create a baleful position...* Li Zhuiyuan looked down at the concrete slab beneath his feet and said, "Brother Runsheng, go down to the bank and look under the bridge, right beneath where I'm standing." "I'll do it!" Tan Wenbin dropped his load, scampered down the bank, and finding his view blocked from the edge, waded right into the river without another thought. Though narrow, the river was deep in the middle. If there was a sinkhole or silt trap, it could effortlessly swallow a grown man whole. Squatting by the edge of the bridge, Runsheng warned, "Be careful! Don't make us have to fish you out next!" "The mud down here is so deep, and I've barely stepped in!" Tan Wenbin edged forward cautiously. His mindset was simple: he had finally bought a ticket to the amusement park, so he had to be proactive to get his money's worth. At last, he dared not step any further. Though still a short distance away, he could see beneath the bridge clearly enough. He looked up, his eyes widening in shock. Stumbling backward a few steps, he shouted up to the bridge: "Brother Xiaoyuan, there are huge iron spikes! Driven into the underside of the bridge, right under your feet!" "Are there seven of them?" "Huh?" Tan Wenbin took two steps forward again, struggling to keep his balance while counting overhead. "Yeah! Seven of them!" "Is it red around the spikes?" "Yes, it's red! Looks like red paint!" *As expected.* An ordinary dragon-throttling spot had been turned directly into a dragon-bleeding formation. Li Zhuiyuan turned around to face the bend of the river. The vital qi of this stretch flowed out here, while the baleful qi was trapped and dammed up, using the natural environment to forge a feng shui array. *Then why didn't I notice anything unusual while walking along earlier?* Li Zhuiyuan realized the answer immediately: *The baleful qi was being absorbed by the dead-flipper!* Trapping on one side, absorbing on the other—it formed a closed, dynamic cycle. No wonder villagers had spotted the dead-flipper only for it to disappear: it floated to the surface when feeding on baleful qi, and sank out of sight once satiated. This was no ordinary drowning. Someone was nurturing a corpse here! Li Zhuiyuan realized that when he put himself in the shoes of a wicked practitioner and reasoned backward from the outcome, his success rate was astonishingly high. Yet rather than feeling proud, he felt an unsettling annoyance. *Why is it so easy for me to slip into the mindset of the villain?* Besides, this feng shui setup was far too petty and cramped. To borrow a phrase his great-grandfather often barked at the drinking table: *What is this, pouring out drops like you're feeding goldfish?* If he were the one setting this up, he would have modified several more nodes, funneling in external baleful qi to create conflicting currents. Only that could truly catalyze a corpse's growth; what this amateur had done amounted to little more than keeping meat fresh. *Looks like whatever books you studied were second-rate.* Li Zhuiyuan tapped his forehead. *Wait, what on earth am I thinking?* No, this wasn't his fault; it was Wei Zhengdao's fault. When he had only studied the theories in the books, he hadn't felt it as acutely. But once he put them into practice, the wrongness became glaringly obvious. Wei Zhengdao's texts were stuffed with "the righteous path," preaching only how to execute dead-flippers in the name of righteousness. Yet the man's narrative structure and arrangements could easily be reversed. Many taboos and mistakes solemnly warned against became potent techniques when flipped to the opposite extreme. That bastard had clearly flown the flag of the righteous path while subverting it from within. "Xiaoyuan, are you alright?" Runsheng asked with concern. "I'm fine, Brother Runsheng. Someone set up an array here—" "Wait for me! Wait for me! Don't explain until I get up there!" Tan Wenbin yelled, waving his arms as he scrambled up the bank, desperate not to miss a word. His shoes and pants were soaked through, causing him to stumble. As he bolted toward Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng, he lost his footing completely. If not for Runsheng's immense strength catching him by the scruff of the neck, he might have knocked all three of them into the river. "Heheh, sorry, my bad!" Tan Wenbin crouched down, wringing out his pant legs. "Okay, you can talk now." "This bridge is a feng shui array someone set up. That dead-flipper probably wasn't a traveler who drowned by accident; someone placed it here. They're using this stretch of river to nurture a corpse." "Nurture a corpse?" Tan Wenbin's mouth fell open. "Whoa, that sounds intensely thrilling!" Runsheng asked, "Then what do we do, Xiaoyuan?" "We have two choices. One, I break the formation, and the dead-flipper will float up. Two, we go straight to the person's house." Runsheng was about to ask how they would find the house, but stopped himself. Tan Wenbin couldn't resist. "How do we find it?" Li Zhuiyuan pointed toward the stone stele by the bridge abutment. "The donor who funded the bridge has his name carved right there." Tan Wenbin scratched his head. "Oh, right... Dammit, why do I feel so stupid?" Runsheng gave a quiet "Mm" of agreement. Building bridges and paving roads had been acts of merit since ancient times, especially in rural villages where public funds fell short. Most infrastructure required the locals to raise money themselves. If the cost was split evenly among all households, that was one thing; but if a single donor funded the bulk of it, their name was routinely etched onto a commemorative stone. Li Zhuiyuan walked over to the stele. Only a single name was engraved upon it, proving that one person had financed the entire construction: Zhou Yong. "Let's go ask the village chief. This person must live in the village; he wouldn't dump a corpse here and then go traveling far away." "I know where he lives," Runsheng said, pointing north. "His place is up in the northern corner of the village." Tan Wenbin asked, "Is his family really rich?" Runsheng shook his head. "There aren't many families in this village worse off than mine, but his is one of them." Li Zhuiyuan pondered for a moment. "Then let's go to his house. We'll lay things out clearly so he doesn't just dump another one in after we fish this one out." Tan Wenbin blinked and muttered softly, "It's a corpse, not fish fry..." Runsheng explained, "Xiaoyuan means that dealing only with the corpse without dealing with the living person will just invite trouble later." Led by Runsheng, the three walked toward the northern edge of the village. Along the way, Tan Wenbin asked, "Hey, should I call my dad over?" Runsheng countered, "Do you want your dad to find out you've been fishing out corpses instead of studying at Grandpa's place?" Tan Wenbin lowered his voice immediately. "Isn't this a murder case, though? That falls under police jurisdiction, right?" "Brother Binbin, this isn't necessarily murder," Li Zhuiyuan said. "He's nurturing a corpse. You can think of it as using a feng shui pattern to preserve a body. If he had killed someone, there'd be no reason to go through all this trouble." "Oh, I see. Got it." "Brother Runsheng, be ready when we get there. If anything unusual happens, strike first to keep us safe." "Mm. Don't worry, Xiaoyuan, I know what to do." Liu Yumei and Uncle Qin were considered family, so this was the first time Li Zhuiyuan was encountering a practitioner out in the wild. He couldn't help feeling a thread of nervous tension. Zhou Yong's home was even more wretched than Grandpa Shan's. Grandpa Shan at least had a broken courtyard wall; Zhou Yong didn't even have a fence, living in what was literally a mud-brick hut. These days, rural villagers were all striving to build two-story brick houses. To lack even a single-story brick-and-tile dwelling and remain in a mud hut meant living at the absolute bottom of village society. Tan Wenbin was bewildered. "A guy like this fully funded a bridge?" Runsheng said, "He used to be a worker at the Xingren Agricultural Machinery Factory. Later, his wife and daughter fell sick, so he couldn't go to work anymore. He stayed home to farm and look after them." Tan Wenbin asked, "Are his wife and daughter still around?" "They are. The last time I rode past his doorway, I saw his wife and child sitting out front soaking up the sun." As he spoke, Runsheng glanced back at Li Zhuiyuan. "It was that time you waited for me at home while I rode to the township market to buy rice and flour for Great-Grandpa. I passed right by his door and saw them." Li Zhuiyuan nodded. The three stepped up onto the small dirt courtyard. A large conical bamboo hat covered a well in the yard, and the ground was swept clean—though that was largely because there was almost nothing out there to begin with. The front door was shut tight. Tan Wenbin licked his lips, stepped forward, and gave it a push. It didn't budge. He pushed again, and the metallic clinking of a lock rattled from inside. He looked back at Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng, shrugging. "Looks like we came at a bad time. Nobody's home, and the door is locked from the inside." Li Zhuiyuan looked at him. "Doesn't a door locked from the inside strike you as strange?" "What's strange about that? My door locks from the inside... oh, wait. How could it be?" Locking a wooden village door from the inside was completely different from a latchkey lock on an apartment door. "Brother Binbin, call out again." "Right!" Tan Wenbin banged on the wood, shouting, "Hey! Anyone home? Is anyone in there?" No answer came from within. Runsheng sniffed the air, then raised an open palm. "Binbin, be quiet for a second." Seeing that, Li Zhuiyuan immediately stepped back several paces. He knew what Runsheng's nose was best at catching. "Xiaoyuan, there's a corpse stench. Very faint." Tan Wenbin asked urgently, "Is it a dead-flipper?" Runsheng shook his head. "Hard to say. The smell is too faint. It could be something else giving it off." Tan Wenbin guessed, "Could someone have locked the door from the inside and killed themselves?" Both of them turned to Li Zhuiyuan. Li Zhuiyuan pointed toward the adjacent window. "Let's go in and check. If we find a corpse, we call the police. If not, we apologize and pay for the damage." Tan Wenbin walked to the wooden window and tugged. "Locked too." Runsheng stepped up, edged him aside, grabbed the frame, and pulled hard. The entire window popped out in one piece. Runsheng wriggled his body through the opening. Seeing him go in, Tan Wenbin gritted his teeth and scrambled in right behind him. *Creak!* The inner latch of the wooden door was undone, and the door swung open to reveal Runsheng standing behind it. "Xiaoyuan, the key was sitting right on the table, so I unlocked it directly." "What did you do that for, Runsheng?" Tan Wenbin hissed. "If there really is a corpse in here, you just contaminated the crime scene! How are we supposed to explain this as witnesses?" Li Zhuiyuan walked through the front door. "Don't worry. Your dad will smooth it over for us." "But this isn't my dad's precinct!" "You were gambling in the village. Your dad took leave and came here in plainclothes to catch you, stumbled upon this house, and became the first witness." Tan Wenbin swallowed hard. "That actually sounds reasonable." The interior of the house was surprisingly spacious, though the floor consisted of bare dirt full of small pits, lacking any brick paving. The wooden ceiling beams hung low; an adult walking inside had to duck carefully to avoid bumping their head. The layout followed standard village architecture: the kitchen and hearth sat on the far east side, the main hall occupied the center with a long chest along the wall topped by an altar with holy statues, and the western side served as the bedroom. The house was cluttered with belongings. Many items were battered and worn, clearly spared from the trash out of thrift, yet everything was arranged neatly and methodically. Tan Wenbin headed east toward the kitchen while Runsheng checked the western bedroom. Li Zhuiyuan remained in the central hall, gazing up at the deity portraits hanging on the wall. On the far left hung Guanyin Bodhisattva. On the far right hung the Jade Emperor. And hanging directly in the center was Jesus. It was normal for villagers to hang holy images, and a blend of Buddhist and Daoist figures was common enough. Some even hung Confucian figures—his great-grandpa kept a portrait of Confucius at home. But placing Jesus squarely in the middle created a bizarre clash of styles that looked utterly out of place to any discerning eye. Li Zhuiyuan walked up to the chest and noticed that the incense burners before Guanyin and the Jade Emperor hadn't been used in a very long time, coated in a thick layer of dust rather than incense ash. The burner before Jesus, however, was filled to the brim with fresh incense ash, clearly used with great frequency. *Does Jesus even eat incense smoke?* Li Zhuiyuan raised a hand to open the chest. Its construction closely resembled a coffin; the top lids had to be lifted off to see inside. Each lid section slotted into grooves like puzzle pieces, requiring them to be opened one by one. Such chests were typically used to store sundries or grain. He hesitated, then lowered his hand. To be safe, he would wait for Runsheng. Runsheng and Tan Wenbin returned. "No one in the bedroom." "Nobody in the kitchen either." Li Zhuiyuan asked, "Brother Runsheng, can you tell where that corpse stench is coming from?" Runsheng shook his head. "Once inside, I can't pin it down. That faint smell is everywhere." Tan Wenbin scoffed, "Are you saying a corpse has been living and walking around this house, leaving a scent everywhere? Don't be so ridiculous!" "Brother Binbin, are you like Master Ye who claimed to love dragons until a real one showed up?" "Huh?" Tan Wenbin immediately recalled why they had come. The vivid image of a corpse wandering around the house flashed through his mind, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, making him shudder violently. "Brother Runsheng, open the lid and look inside." "Alright." Runsheng knew how to handle these interlocking lids. He gripped one side, pushed inward, and lifted it away. Li Zhuiyuan stood on tiptoe to peer inside. The chest held only bags of grain, giving off a sharp, pungent odor—likely fumigant used to keep the rice from molding. There was nothing else in the hall; this long chest was the only piece of furniture capable of hiding anything. Li Zhuiyuan headed toward the kitchen, Runsheng and Tan Wenbin trailing close behind. The kitchen had a standard rural layout with an earthen stove, behind which sat piles of dry grass and firewood. Tan Wenbin pointed at the pile. "I checked over there just now. Nothing in the firewood." Li Zhuiyuan lifted the lids of the water vat and the rice vat in turn. The water vat was brimming with water, and the rice vat was heaped full of grain. Tan Wenbin spoke up again. "I checked those too. No problems. Though no matter how poor this family is, their rice vat is fuller than Runsheng's." Li Zhuiyuan stepped back several paces, retreating behind Runsheng and Tan Wenbin. Pointing at the rice vat, he remarked, "For a family of three, why use such an enormous rice vat, and keep it filled to the brim?" City families bought rice as they needed it. Rural families kept grain reserves, but they stored the bulk in separate bins and kept only a small amount in the kitchen vat for daily use, replenishing it from storage as it ran low. Runsheng looked at Tan Wenbin, then back at the rice vat, silently asking: *Are you doing it, or am I?* Tan Wenbin was trembling, but he braced himself, nodded, and walked over to the vat. Reaching into the middle, he began clawing the rice aside. As he dug deeper, he suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream: "Aaaahhh!" He collapsed backward onto the floor, scrambling away on all fours. Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng stepped forward to look. In the hollow dug out of the grain sat a clump of black hair. There was someone inside the vat! No wonder Tan Wenbin had been scared out of his wits. Who wouldn't be terrified by such a sight? You could practically picture the person beneath the rice, curled tightly in a fetal position. Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes, reopened them a second later, and steadied his breath. "Brother Runsheng, verify it." "Right." Without hesitation, Runsheng reached in and dug further. The forehead beneath the hair was uncovered. It was indeed a person—a young girl. Clearing more rice away, he revealed the girl's eyes. Her eyes were wide open. And both of them were packed full of individual grains of raw rice. Tan Wenbin, having just scrambled back to his feet, leaned in for another look. The moment he saw it, he recoiled several paces in terror. Li Zhuiyuan averted his gaze. He couldn't blame Tan Wenbin for being cowardly; even he found those eyes difficult to stomach. "Xiaoyuan, I can't dig any deeper unless we scoop all the rice out or pull her up." "No need. Leave it like this for now." "Alright." Li Zhuiyuan twitched his nose. He caught a cloying scent. "Brother Runsheng, do you smell that?" "Uh, no. Just that faint corpse stench. Xiaoyuan, what do you smell?" "Why do I smell a hint of fragrance?" "Fragrance?" Li Zhuiyuan shook his head and glanced toward the water vat. The water hadn't been changed in a long time, and in the dim light of the hut, it looked dark and murky. "Brother Binbin." Tan Wenbin shook his head violently, looking pleadingly at Runsheng. "Brother Runsheng..." Runsheng didn't hesitate. Wearing only a sleeveless vest, he didn't even need to roll up his sleeves. He plunged his bare arm straight into the vat, sweeping and probing through the depths. Finally, he pulled his dripping arm out and shook it off. "Nothing inside." Tan Wenbin suggested nervously, "Should... should we go outside now?" Runsheng shot him a glance. "You were the one begging to come along, and you're the one scared half to death the moment you see something." "Isn't this how a normal person is supposed to react?" Tan Wenbin retorted. Li Zhuiyuan walked toward the bedroom, Runsheng following behind. Tan Wenbin cast one last glance back at the eyes embedded in the rice vat... Then he bolted forward, high-stepping after them. The bedroom contained two beds, one large and one small, both draped in blue mosquito netting with woven bamboo mats spread over them. A neatly folded quilt lay on the large bed, while a thin blanket rested on the smaller one. Beneath the mats on both beds lay several thick layers of cotton padding used as mattresses, making the beds softer and more comfortable. Runsheng pointed under the beds and toward the surrounding wardrobes. "Xiaoyuan, I checked all these spots. Nothing unusual." Tan Wenbin pointed at the folded quilt. "The quilt! The quilt! Why would anyone use such a thick quilt in the dead of summer?" Runsheng stepped forward, pulled aside the mosquito net, and spread the quilt out. It was just an ordinary thick quilt. "Uh..." Tan Wenbin trailed off. "Brother Runsheng, pull back the bamboo mats on both beds." "Right." Runsheng first peeled back the mat on the smaller bed, revealing several layers of cotton batting underneath. As Runsheng moved toward the large bed, Tan Wenbin rushed ahead to beat him to it. He yanked back the mat, but as he held the corner, his heels lifted off the floor, and his entire body began shaking uncontrollably. He had convulsed from sheer terror. Beneath the bamboo mat lay a thick bed of cotton batting. Sandwiched inside that cotton was a person—an emaciated adult woman. Most of her body was covered by the batting, leaving only her face, belly, and feet exposed. Her eyes were wide open as well. They were stuffed completely with raw cotton wool, bulging outward until they looked swollen and distorted. The tufts of cotton pushed outward through the lids, looking grotesque, as though fresh cotton bolls were sprouting directly from her eye sockets. "Put it down, Brother Binbin." "Okay." Tan Wenbin let go. The mat fell back into place, covering the cotton and the woman once more. He stumbled toward Li Zhuiyuan, but the boy stepped aside, leaving Tan Wenbin with no choice but to lurch toward Runsheng. He threw his arms around Runsheng, desperate for a hug. He was on the verge of tears—in fact, water was already brimming at the corners of his eyes. With a trembling, tearful voice, he asked, "Xiaoyuan, what do we do now?" "Don't be afraid, Brother Binbin." "I'm not afraid..." Tan Wenbin took a stubborn, ragged breath, only for Runsheng to shove him away. Losing his balance, he fell backward and landed flat on the bamboo mat of the large bed. "Aaaahhh!" Remembering what lay beneath him, Tan Wenbin shot up like a coiled spring. "I am afraid! I'm terrified!" Li Zhuiyuan patted Tan Wenbin's arm. "Don't be scared, Brother Binbin. Let's go call your dad." "Dad..." Truth be told, the moment the image of Tan Yunlong entered his mind, Tan Wenbin's terror subsided considerably. Even if his father unbuckled his leather belt to give him a thrashing right now, the sting would feel warm and comforting. Li Zhuiyuan walked out of the mud hut first. Runsheng picked up the window frame to put it back in place, but Tan Wenbin shouted from inside for them to wait. A sharp *click* sounded as he threw the inner latch of the wooden door back into place. Then he squeezed out through the window frame himself and helped Runsheng fit the window back into the wall. "Heheh, Brother Xiaoyuan, I locked the door and wiped the latch and the key! That way Runsheng's fingerprints won't be on them, saving us a ton of trouble!" Tan Wenbin felt rather pleased with his professional thoroughness. Li Zhuiyuan looked at him. "When your dad arrives, we could have just had Brother Runsheng unlock it again anyway. Besides, you didn't just wipe Brother Runsheng's fingerprints—you wiped every single fingerprint off the latch." "Uh..." Tan Wenbin realized he had done something completely pointless. "Come on. Let's go call your father." Normally, someone ought to stay behind to watch the scene, but leaving any one of them behind felt wrong. In the end, all three started walking back together. After they had covered some distance, a shout echoed from behind them: "Hey! Runsheng Hou! Runsheng Hou!" The three looked back and saw the village chief pedaling a bicycle along the dirt path behind them. He waved from afar, calling out, "Runsheng Hou! Did you find it yet? Any luck?" Runsheng raised a hand and shouted back, "Not yet!" Just then, the three watched as the approaching village chief suddenly turned to his left, raised a hand in greeting, and smiled, calling out a friendly word. It was the casual greeting of someone waving to neighbors sitting in their doorway as he passed. And that spot, in that exact direction, was Zhou Yong's house. The three of them turned their heads together to look toward the hut. Though they were a good distance away, they could still faintly see a mother and daughter sitting quietly together on the small dirt courtyard.