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墨書 Inktalez
I was momentarily stunned when I heard that. "Is it really that scary? Then why do you still dare to take me there?"
The old man chuckled, "I'm seventy-three years old. It's rare for someone to live past seventy. What do I have to be afraid of? Have you heard that saying? The saddest thing in life is when a person dies without spending all their money. Even sadder is when a person is alive but has run out of money. I'm one of those who are still alive but have no money left. So, of course, I need to earn some while I can. After all, I'll be heading to the crematorium myself in a few years..."
Seeing that the old man was quite talkative, I chatted with him for a while.
However, this Electric Mountain Trike was really slow. By the time I arrived at the crematorium, it was already afternoon. I handed the old man One Hundred Yuan and told him to keep the change.
The crematorium was quite large, and since it was daytime, I didn't feel scared as I walked toward the main hall.
Inside the hall, an emaciated old man was squatting in the corner, smoking a large pipe.
I approached him and asked, "Excuse me, sir, could I ask you about someone?"
The old man looked up at me.
His face bore three terrifying scars that stretched from his forehead down to his mouth, taking up half of his face. When he smiled at me, those scars seemed even more menacing.
"Younger man, who are you looking for? I've been burning people here for over twenty years; I know quite a few living and dead," he said in a raspy voice.
I wasn't easily frightened and replied, "Sir, is there a staff member here who dresses the deceased? She's a woman with curly hair and a mole."
The old man took a puff from his pipe. "Oh, you're asking about Sister Yang. She used to work here, but for some reason, she hasn't been around for quite some time."
I was taken aback and felt a bit disappointed. It seemed that finding an elderly woman in this unfamiliar place would be quite difficult.
I sighed and waved my hand, saying, "Alright, thank you, sir. Do you know where Sister Yang's house is?"
"I wouldn't know that," the old man replied with a chuckle. "You see, those of us who work at the crematorium don't reveal where we live. It's to avoid being overheard by ghosts. If they come knocking in the middle of the night, that would be troublesome." He grinned at me.
Looking at his face made me feel a bit nauseous. I nodded and turned to leave, heading outside.
Just as I reached the entrance of the hall, I heard someone shout from behind, "Master Yan! Another one has come in. Hurry up and get ready; the family wants the ashes. Be careful not to burn them all away."
"Got it!" the old man replied.
I continued walking forward but felt something was off. I tapped my head and suddenly froze. Master Yan? Is this crematorium worker also named Yan? That delivery guy—does he share the same surname? What connection could they have? Moreover, that courier, Yan Bo Cong, was clearly hiding something from me.
I immediately recalled my experience at Shentong Express Store. When I took that package out, Yan Bo Cong's expression had changed slightly. At the time, I hadn't thought much of it, but now it seemed very suspicious.
Furthermore, when I later asked about the sender, Yan Bo Cong immediately claimed he couldn't remember, without even pausing to think. He even casually asked if I wanted to return it. He must know something but didn't want me to find out about that sender!
And yet, while a courier couldn't recall anything, the shop owner could describe that old woman's appearance perfectly. There was definitely something wrong here.
I glanced back at the Scarred Old Man tending to the fire, filled with doubts. Instead of leaving the crematorium immediately, I walked toward a more secluded area. Although this crematorium wasn't large, it had all the necessary departments; it wasn't just a single furnace like I had previously imagined.
Inside, there was a funeral home, a Crown Room, a Dressing Room for Funerals, and an Embalming Department.
Embalming essentially involved preparing the deceased for viewing—dressing them and applying makeup—since many people held funerals here. The embalmers needed to make sure the bodies looked presentable.
Thinking back to what the shop owner had said about that old woman who sent the Face Mask, she must work here. I quietly approached the entrance of the Embalming Department.
No one was at the door.
I walked in, and the temperature was quite low, a mix of air conditioning chill and a damp, eerie atmosphere, after all, this was where the dead were kept.
At that moment, I felt surprisingly brave; I was no longer afraid of seeing a corpse.
In the room lay a body covered with a white cloth. A person in a blue long coat stood in front of the corpse, fiddling with its face.
I paused for a moment.
This person had to be Sister Yang!
I glanced around and then grabbed a teacup from the table, hiding it behind my back.
With the teacup in hand, I felt a bit more confident. Of course, it would have been better if I had a brick.
I quietly approached the embalmer. When I reached her side, I suddenly stood right in front of her. I thought she was skinning someone, so I shouted, "What are you doing?"
"Ah! ... Gasp!"
The person in the blue coat screamed and then fainted on the spot.
I was taken aback for a moment and quickly checked on her. She was clearly a young woman, surprisingly attractive, probably in her twenties—definitely not an old hag skinning people.
I panicked slightly and felt a twinge of regret; I had been too reckless, focused solely on thoughts of human skin face masks without considering that this place didn't just have old women as staff.
I stepped forward and pinched the girl’s philtrum. Just as I hesitated about whether to give her artificial respiration, she woke up. She squinted her eyes, took a deep breath, her face pale, and slowly regained her composure.
"You... you idiot! Do you know where this is? This is a crematorium! You could scare someone to death!" The woman was quite fierce; as soon as she woke up, she pointed at me and started cursing.
Seeing that the woman was fine, I let out a sigh of relief and quickly said, "Sorry, sorry! I thought you were... um, miss, I'm really sorry. Here’s a red bill to calm you down." I noticed she was about to continue her tirade, so I immediately pulled out a One Hundred Yuan note and handed it to her.
Money really works wonders.
After receiving the money, the woman stuffed it into her pocket and shot me a glare. "Since you brought me back to life, I won’t curse you anymore... Wait, how did you wake me up? Did you give me artificial respiration?" She wiped her mouth.
I found this woman a bit amusing. "Don’t worry about it; I just pinched your philtrum to wake you up. I didn’t kiss you or anything." I glanced at the girl’s chest—well, it was quite flat.
The woman glared at me again.
I asked, "By the way, miss, is there an older lady working here with the surname Yang? She seems to have a mole near her mouth."
"That would be Yang Granny. She comes in at night for her shift. During the day, it's usually us part-timers who do the dressing and makeup," the woman replied. Having received the One Hundred Yuan note seemed to have improved her mood; she patted her backside and stood up, grabbing various makeup tools to continue applying makeup on the corpse.
I took a look; it was a male corpse, probably in his forties. His belly was quite large, and his skin was plump. From these aspects, it seemed he had lived comfortably before his death. However, at that moment, there was a large gaping hole in his face that looked rather grotesque—it appeared to have rotted away right in the middle of his nose, and bizarrely enough, it seemed like a bunch of eyes had sprouted from the decayed area.
I felt a bit nauseous and asked, "What happened to this person? How did he die?"
The woman looked somewhat frightened as she replied, "How would I know? To be honest, I've been working here part-time for two months now and have gotten used to dressing corpses. But I've never seen such a terrifying way to die. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't have scared me into fainting just now."
As she spoke, she began taking a piece of human skin and applying it over the man's face to fill in that eye-like hole. Then she used glue and flesh-colored tape to secure it in place before molding a nose.
I was curious and asked, "What do you do that’s so professional?"
"I'm studying Makeup," she replied. "But it's hard for makeup artists to find jobs these days. The pay is low and we often face a lot of pressure. That's why I can only work part-time here. Doing makeup for the deceased might sound a bit creepy, but I don’t have to deal with difficult clients, and the pay is better. The families of these deceased are quite nice to me too; they often slip me some Red Envelopes." As she spoke, she quickly completed the most challenging step. Finally, she sighed in relief, set down her makeup kit, and looked at me. "Alright, you scared me for a moment, but talking to you has helped me finish my work. Having someone around makes it much easier."
I smiled and said, "That’s good to hear. Oh, by the way, can you give me Sister Yang's contact? I suppose I’ve helped you a bit too."
She glanced at me and asked, "What do you need Yang Granny for? She's an old employee here and only works the night shift. If there aren’t any part-timers available during the day or if someone has an issue, she comes in to help out. We also go to her for things we can't handle." She checked the time and added, "Yang Granny comes in at seven."
I was a bit surprised and asked, "She hasn’t quit?"
She rolled her eyes at me. "If all the employees quit, Yang Granny wouldn’t leave. She’s been here forever and is basically the face of this crematorium. Many people come here specifically because of her."
Hearing her words eased my mind; it seemed that Yan Bo Cong and that old man who burned bodies were indeed suspicious.
I asked her a few more questions before getting Sister Yang's phone number and then left. I decided that tonight I would catch someone in the act!
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