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At the intersection of the Eastern Ring Expressway and Tianming Road, the scene of the car accident was devastating: a Ferrari had rear-ended a heavy truck, only to be struck from behind by another large truck. The car, several meters long, was crumpled down to just over a meter, and the young woman in the driver's seat, barely in her twenties, was grotesquely contorted. According to the forensic expert on site, she suffered from cervical fractures, sternum fractures, lumbar vertebrae fractures, and leg fractures.
Rescue workers pried open the Ferrari and lifted her out. Brother Biao and I took over, placing her on a simple stretcher and covering her with a white cloth. Soon, red stains began to seep through the fabric.
The deceased's parents appeared to be in their forties. The mother, though beautiful, had her hair disheveled and fainted several times from crying. The father was well-dressed but had a pale face, his brows furrowed tightly as he ground his teeth in silence.
Upon arriving at the funeral home, they carried her into the makeup room where Sister Hong quickly opened her toolbox to begin her work. Brother Biao and I helped lift the body onto the workbench. The moment Sister Hong lifted the cover, Brother Biao retched violently, as if he were about to expel his very insides.
I was equally horrified; the "person" on the table had a face as white as paper, with legs bent at odd angles. The chest was caved in from being crushed by the steering wheel, and blood covered her entire body.
Chen Senran took the family into his office to discuss the related costs for transportation, makeup, ceremonies, funeral garments, and urns. If they hadn't already secured a burial plot, they would also need to negotiate that. All of this not only concerned service quality but also factors like distance and price.
I went to deliver water to my boss's office and overheard the girl's father saying, "Don't worry about money; I want my daughter to leave this world with dignity." He gritted his teeth and added, "I will make sure the perpetrator pays a price he never imagined!"
Though I wasn't married yet, I could empathize with his feelings. It reminded me of when I was very young and my favorite toy was destroyed by a dog; I cried for hours and chased it away with a stick whenever it came near.
And this was his own daughter—losing her felt like tearing flesh from his own body!
Once Sister Hong finished with the makeup, she invited the girl's parents to view their daughter's remains. In the coffin lay a tall girl with straight hair pulled up high. Her previously pale face now had a hint of pink due to makeup, and she wore a pink gown that rivaled those from high-end boutiques. Her delicate feet peeked out from beneath the fabric.
Her hands were folded over her lower abdomen, her expression serene and peaceful.
The girl's mother glanced once at her daughter and murmured, "Xiao Ya, why haven't you woken up yet... You're scaring your mother!" She reached out to touch her daughter's face.
The girl's father gently grasped his wife's arm: "Su Wen, don’t do that!"
Suddenly, it was as if the girl's mother had just awakened from a nightmare; her face turned ghostly pale and she collapsed weakly.
The girl's father caught his wife in his arms while Chen Senran hurriedly instructed me: "Call 120!"
I checked her pulse and softly said, "She’s experiencing liver qi stagnation. It’s not serious for now, but if she doesn’t get psychological support soon, it could lead to depression or other health issues!"
The girl's father sighed deeply: "Alas!"
That night, he stayed at the hospital with his wife while arrangements were made for vigil at the funeral home. Fortunately, our company offered such services.
During the night, Brother Biao and I kept watch outside the funeral parlor; we needed to ensure that the eternal flame remained lit while occasionally burning paper offerings.
I don't know why, but I always have this unsettling feeling, a restlessness that keeps my heart uneasy.
As the night deepened, the sounds of cars outside gradually diminished, and Brother Biao began to doze off like a chicken pecking at grains.
Seeing him in that state, I said, "Brother Biao, you should go up and rest first. Come down to replace me after two o'clock."
Startled from his drowsiness, Brother Biao lifted his head and replied, "No way, no way! We should stick together." He certainly didn't dare to guard the Funeral Parlor alone!
I had to settle for a compromise: "Then you can go up and take a short nap. Come down to keep me company after two o'clock."
Brother Biao agreed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way up the stairs.
However, as Brother Biao's footsteps echoed on the old wooden staircase, I suddenly felt that the "thud-thud" sound was like heavy hammers striking my forehead. My mind was racing, sometimes clouded and sometimes clear.
In the haze, a voice floated in: "Little brother, I was harmed by someone. You must help me seek justice!"
In my blurry vision, a figure faintly appeared outside the door, hair styled high and wearing an elegant pink gown. Wasn't it the girl lying in the coffin?
I wanted to ask but found myself unable to make a sound; my body felt as if it were encased in cement, completely immobile.
The woman seemed to know what I wanted to ask and continued, "There’s an old phone in the left bedside table of my room. It was a birthday gift from my mom and dad on my eighteenth birthday. If you let my dad retrieve the memory card, he will know everything."
Suddenly jolted awake, I found Brother Biao sitting across from me, tossing paper money into the fire pit while teasing me: "Looks like you finally fell asleep!"
I asked him, "What time is it? How did you come down so quickly?"
Brother Biao scolded me: "You must be dazed; I've been sitting right here all along."
What was going on?
The Jiangcheng crematorium is home to over twenty Funeral Homes of various sizes. Whether it's the crematorium or a Funeral Home, as long as there isn't someone deceased in the family, it's generally a "no trespassing" zone for the living.
Some say that Paper Offering Shops are gathering places for spirits, Coffin Shops are playgrounds for the dead, and crematoriums mark the beginning of their next reincarnation. Ordinary people claim that this place straddles the boundary between life and death—a cursed land filled with speculation and fear.
The truth always lies hidden beneath layers of mystery; only those who have experienced it firsthand truly understand what lies behind it all.
But in my view, this industry is just like menial jobs; it's a business, albeit one that represents the final stage of life. Very few people willingly engage with it while they are alive.
Moreover, no matter how ominous it may seem here, when your time comes, you still have to face it.
When I first arrived, Brother Biao quietly asked me, "Xiao Lin Brothers, are you scared?"
I replied, "Scared of what?"
He looked at me incredulously. "Of course, I'm talking about the dead and those filthy things!"
I asked Brother Biao, "You've been here longer than I have; what have you seen?"
He glanced back in terror and lowered his voice. "At night, I keep hearing people crying! It's really someone crying, not just the noise from the rats last time!"
I was puzzled. "Isn't that normal? The first floor is a Funeral Parlor; it's not strange for people to cry during a wake."
Seeing that I was unyielding, Brother Biao stopped trying to convince me and simply said, "You'll understand in time."
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