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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 00: The Woman Who Hanged Herself (Part Two)
"I believe in Master Ma, and I trust you won't let me down." Her tone was so resolute now, a stark contrast to her earlier skepticism, leaving me at a loss for words.
"May I ask your surname?"
"No need for formality; my surname is Peng, full name Peng Caifu." Throughout the entire time, as this person named Peng Caifu recounted the events, it felt rehearsed, as if he had memorized every detail. There was not a hint of sorrow or pain on his face; it was as if he were discussing someone else's affairs.
Although I hadn't experienced the strange events my grandfather had gone through, I knew better than to underestimate the deceased from Hanging by a Beam. I had to investigate the situation further.
In the past, whenever my grandfather was home, he would contact the local Honor Guard upon receiving a case.
This time, I chose not to reach out to the Honor Guard for my own reasons.
The person who arrived was driving a tricycle, and his home was located in a place called Dongle Village.
Peng Caifu offered me a ride on his tricycle, but I declined; I had my motorcycle. Following closely behind the tricycle allowed me to enjoy the night scenery.
The tricycle moved quickly, gliding through the dark edges of the city like a shooting star. Soon, we were heading towards the outskirts, racing toward Dongle Village.
The bumpy rural road jolted me around; if I hadn't tightly grasped the handlebars, I might have fallen off.
After about ten minutes of bouncing along, the road became somewhat smoother. Peng Caifu shouted from the driver's seat that this stretch of road led directly to his doorstep.
Finally, I caught sight of Peng Caifu's home.
Because someone had died, the entrance to the house felt somewhat different from that of other residents.
First of all, the ground was littered with remnants of firecrackers, which was quite unusual.
At the gate, there were white paper lanterns on either side, and under the dim yellow light, I felt a deep sense of Yin Qi. It was eerily quiet; I couldn't even hear any crying.
I thought about how the children of Peng Caifu must be grieving their mother's death. Surely, someone would be crying!
But there was truly no one weeping.
As I stepped inside, no one came to greet me.
Peng Caifu led me directly to the deceased.
The body lay on the floor, messy hair covering half of a purple-tinged face.
It was my first time seeing someone who had hanged themselves.
It seemed that hanging was a painful process; in their struggle, the deceased had instinctively clenched their fists tightly. Their hands remained clenched, with knuckles turning white and stiff.
The mouth was open, revealing a dark red tongue, while bloodshot eyes bulged beneath the tangled hair, resembling severe bruising from an external injury. The rough end of the black rope looked as if it had been hastily cut with a dull knife in a moment of desperation.
To say I wasn't scared would be a lie. This wasn't about bravely taking on a task for money or facing danger head-on; it was about rising to the occasion when needed and not backing down.
A deathly aura wafted through the air, causing me to frown slightly as I wrinkled my nose and crouched down to examine the rope around her neck. At first glance, she bore an uncanny resemblance to the woman I had seen outside the funeral home, especially with her messy hair hanging over her face. My heart tightened, and I decided it was best not to say much.
I turned my head away from the rope. It was long and curled, dragging on the ground like a snake the thickness of a thumb.
The body was discarded here, and her children were nowhere to be found; they must have hidden away, unable to bear the sight of their mother in such a state.
I truly couldn't find any words of comfort for the hanging woman and vehemently rejected the thought of her appearing at the funeral home. Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine. I forced myself to calm down and glanced at Peng Caifu, asking, "No change of clothes? No bath?" As I spoke, my hands moved to untie the rope from the deceased. When I touched her hand, it felt cold—damn, this job really wasn't meant for humans.
Suppressing my rising panic, I carefully gathered up the rope and affixed a talisman to it.
"No, I don't know how to do it," Peng Caifu replied, his head bowed in humility before he awkwardly straightened up. He was conflicted, unsure whether to trust the words of this young kid in front of him. To him, I seemed just as young as his own children.
"I'll go get you a glass of water," he said before leaving.
I feigned indifference and nodded as he walked out. Once alone, I set down what I had brought and prepared myself for the task of washing and changing the deceased's clothes.
But she was a woman, and I was a man—how could I wash her?
In truth, there had been times when I had stolen glances at girls much older than me; their bodies were far more appealing than that of this corpse.
Ultimately, it didn't matter much. I was about the same age as her eldest child; I could just think of myself as her son for this moment. A son bathing his deceased mother held no disrespectful connotation. As long as I focused on doing my job properly, nothing unexpected should happen.
I truly didn't want to deal with the dead, but when I thought about how my grandfather, at his old age, was still taking on jobs, I realized I couldn't rely on him for my entire life. A foolish bird must learn to fly and carve out its own path.
As I pondered how to start and end my thoughts, Peng Caifu quietly appeared, holding a few sheets of paper that seemed to be stamped documents.
"This is her medical history; she has multiple illnesses..."
"You don't need to show me that. As long as a person has a clear conscience, that's enough." I refused to look at the stack of medical records; this wasn't within our line of work. Then, with a mature demeanor, I picked up my tea, took a sip, gently set the cup down, and looked at Peng Caifu. "How old are your children? The sensible one should come here; I have something to say."
"Alright. I'll call them right away."
Before long, Peng Caifu returned with two older children.
The older one was a girl, about the same age as me, and the other was a boy, who seemed to be around the same age as well. The height difference between the boy and girl was minimal.
"Yan Zi, listen to Master Ma for everything; do whatever he asks you to do."
Then he instructed Peng Hai on what to do.
Peng Hai was the boy. He looked around fourteen or fifteen years old—just a few years younger than his sister—probably an unexpected addition to the family.
Peng Caifu seemed to have an idea of what I wanted his children to do. With some concern, he quietly gave a few instructions before stepping aside and remaining silent.
"The deceased cannot go to the Underworld in a dirty state; they must wash away the filth of the mortal world and go cleanly. They also need to change into old clothes before proceeding."
As the head of the family, Peng Caifu could only nod in response.
Then I continued, "When giving her a bath, it must be done methodically, from head to toe. During the bathing process, you cannot be careless; you must wash away the dirt of the world with a sincere heart for your mother. As they say, one comes into this world naked and leaves it the same way."
"Dad..."
Peng Caifu's two children turned pale at the thought of bathing their mother. They looked anxious and leaned closer to him, whispering, "Dad, why don't we just pay someone else to do it?"
Money is indeed a good thing; it can make even the most difficult tasks easier.
However, there is one thing that money cannot replace: family bonds.
Seeing Peng Caifu's children shrinking back and hesitating to step forward, I couldn't help but show my anger. "If you don't do it yourselves and something goes wrong, don't say I didn't warn you. Family ties cannot be measured by money. If it were possible, I would gladly work harder to earn that money for you, but some things simply cannot be delegated."
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