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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 09: Doubts
Indeed, my grandfather's sudden departure left me with lingering questions about what Fat had said.
I couldn't reach him on the phone; there were no call records at all.
Why would he lie?
I never smoked; smoking is harmful to health.
Yet, in a state of confusion, I found myself smoking to ponder my thoughts.
The image of my grandfather's lifeless body kept flashing before my eyes.
With a cigarette pinched between my fingers, I recalled his words about death and resurrection, along with his outstretched finger and bulging eyes. Suddenly, the cigarette burned too quickly, singeing my fingers. I dropped it, and it landed on the bed. I hurried to pick it up.
What unfolded next was shocking.
The cigarette butt fell onto the blanket as if it had landed on dry, withered leaves, and it ignited almost instantly. My heart raced inexplicably; this was too bizarre—how could a mere cigarette butt catch fire like that?
Yet it did catch fire, flames spreading rapidly, fiercely licking at everything around me. The fire didn't extinguish; instead, it grew stronger, reaching towards me.
I was terrified and became increasingly frantic.
The flames surrounded me, transforming me into a moving fireball. I screamed, feeling my skin melting away while hearing a cackling laughter emanating from the flames. Then, a girl engulfed in fire appeared before me.
Her dark eyes were filled with flames, and despite her melted mouth and nose, she continued to laugh.
I was utterly terrified.
"Help..." Kuang Han shouted, jolting awake, drenched in sweat. He climbed up, leaving a sweat-soaked imprint on the sheet. There was no fire, no burning girl.
He grabbed the sheet and wiped his face vigorously, tossing it aside. A faint smell of smoke lingered in his mouth; he remembered smoking before bed. The cigarette butt hadn’t fallen on the bed but had been extinguished in the corner.
After taking a heavy breath, he opened the wardrobe and took out a clean sheet to lay flat. He headed to the bathroom to change out of his soaked clothes and take a quick shower. As he turned to leave, a sharp crack echoed through the room, startling him despite having faced many terrifying situations before.
Instinctively, he turned around.
The mirror had shattered, forming a large spiderweb-like crack. Within that broken surface appeared a face—deep black eyes staring back at him. The face was unnaturally pale, with a sinister smile curling at the corners of its lips.
Damn!
He frowned, avoiding its gaze. He formed a hand sign and muttered an incantation before throwing a punch at the mirror.
His fist was mere inches from the glass when that face vanished.
He swallowed hard, feeling quite unsettled.
The malevolent presence taunted him openly, and he felt utterly powerless.
With the mirror destroyed and no ghost caught, he couldn’t help but think fondly of his grandfather.
If only Grandpa were here, that malevolence wouldn’t dare provoke him so boldly.
Sighing, he realized everything had to start over again; he needed to establish his authority amidst this darkness.
Regaining his composure, he returned to his bedroom and checked the time—it was midnight 1:00.
Who was the girl who looked so much like Yin Yin that I encountered tonight, along with all the other strange events and nightmares?
Lying in bed, I was still deep in thought.
I habitually picked up the cigarette box, suddenly recalling the nightmare from before.
Nervously tossing the cigarette box aside, I glanced at the computer on the cabinet and thought of Mi Li.
I remembered how Mi Li had been wide awake.
I got up and turned on the computer.
Mi Li's profile picture was gray.
As expected, she had long been offline.
For some reason, I truly couldn't believe that she was Chi Xinrong.
I left a message asking, "Mi Li, can you tell me your real name? I would be immensely grateful."
Leaving a message felt like holding onto a glimmer of hope.
I didn't know when it started, but Mi Li had become my emotional support. Besides facing various dead people and funeral matters, connecting with Mi Li was my hope.
I hoped to share my thoughts with her, to communicate more, and to become her only guardian.
But later, upon hearing that Chi Xinrong was Mi Li, I felt a vague sense of loss and unease.
I felt indifferent to Mi Li's existence for the first time as I opened the announcement board of Ma Wu Funeral Home.
To my surprise, there were comments on the board.
One anonymous comment read: "Hello, Ma Wu Funeral Home is hiring salespeople. Can I apply?"
I quickly replied, "Of course you can."
Ding ding—
I heard the sound of someone coming online. I clicked to check and was taken aback.
The person online was none other than the Mi Li I had been hoping to see.
Mi Li: "Brother Qi, are you awake or still asleep?"
Me: "Awake. What are you doing? Why aren't you sleeping?"
Mi Li: "I'm waiting for you."
I sent a surprised emoji and asked, "Did something difficult happen?"
Mi Li: "Do you really want to know my name?"
Me: "I really want to know. I'm trying to confirm something."
Mi Li: "Alright, come to Xie Ming Manor tomorrow night to meet me. I'll tell you my name and my story."
I asked, "What time is it?"
"Right now," Mi Li replied.
I checked the time. Damn, it was 10 o'clock.
Were they trying to scare me? Accepting a late-night meeting with a beautiful woman was something only a fool like me would agree to.
Secondly, my grandfather had passed away suddenly, and I still needed to inform Uncle Zhang.
Uncle Zhang knew my grandfather's wishes. He didn't say much, only expressed concern about whether the business at Ma Wu Funeral Home would be affected by my grandfather's passing.
It was inevitable that it would be impacted.
Even at the station, they might not call us anymore.
I came to see Uncle Zhang not just for my grandfather's matters but also to ask him something else.
I wanted to know if there were any particularly unusual people who showed up at Chi Zhi Ping's funeral for Ji Xiaoying.
I knew it would be impossible to extract valuable clues from Uncle Zhang; he was just a drummer. At most, he interacted with ordinary guests, quietly sitting in an inconspicuous corner. When guests came to pay their respects, he had to puff out his cheeks and play a mournful tune.
Other than that, it was none of his business.
Sure enough, Uncle Zhang didn't remember any particularly unusual individuals showing up. He only mentioned that Zuna and Zhu Gang were always whispering to each other in a discreet manner. He noticed that Zuna looked upset, as if she were scolding Zhu Gang.
"Zhu Gang must have done something wrong; otherwise, Zuna wouldn't be angry and yelling at him," he mused.
Uncle Zhang nodded, his bushy eyebrows knitted together, and the wrinkles on his face made him look even older. "Who knows? It's a world of the wealthy; us poor folks can't understand it."
I asked again, "Uncle Zhang, if someone placed a Seven Kill Nail in your home, who would you suspect?"
Uncle Zhang was familiar with the Seven Kill Nail; his grandfather often shared various supernatural tales from the Supernatural Circle with him. He indeed knew quite a bit and rarely crossed any taboos.
After pondering for a moment, Uncle Zhang looked into the distance, then withdrew his gaze and spoke seriously, "Enemies—deep-seated hatred."
"Then who could be Chi Zhi Ping's enemy?"
Uncle Zhang shook his head. "With his wealth, who knows? It could be someone jealous of his money, a rival in business, or perhaps someone he offended in the political arena."
"Could it be internal strife?"
Uncle Zhang neither agreed nor disagreed with my theory. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, "Do you have someone in mind?"
"Yes, but thinking it through, it seems unlikely."
"If there's evidence, don't act recklessly. Later, I'll have a Longevity Tablet made for your grandfather. Offer three sticks of incense daily; the old man left without even saying goodbye."
After my grandfather passed away, I followed his instructions to discreetly send him to the dark room for a secret burial.
Uncle Zhang wanted to set up a Longevity Tablet for him; that was their bond, and I couldn't interfere.
As for Chi Zhi Ping's family matters, it seemed Uncle Zhang didn't know much either. To gain deeper insight, I would need to continue my covert investigation. Perhaps I could uncover valuable clues from the cold and aloof Princess Chi Xinrong. Leaving Uncle Zhang's place, I felt frustrated.
Damn it! How did being a Mortician turn into being like a detective? Is it really worth it to take on such heavy responsibilities just to make more money?
On the way back to the Funeral Home, I was still thinking about this matter.
The phone rang, my legs resting on the ground, the car steady beneath me. When I answered the call, I was quite surprised to see it was from the Station.
There was something urgent at the Station that required my attention, so I had to put aside other trivial matters and focus on what needed to be done there.
I hung up the phone just as school was letting out.
Approaching me was Xiuxian, but I didn't see Yin Yin anywhere.
I got out of the car and asked, "Xiuxian, where's your friend?"
"I don't know who you're talking about," Xiuxian replied, deliberately keeping her distance from me.
I gestured, "The girl who's about this tall, you call her Yin Yin."
At the mention of Yin Yin, Xiuxian's expression changed dramatically; she shuddered and took off running.
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