Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 040: The Path of the Corpse
The Ashes that melded into my palm sparked a sudden realization in my mind, and I opened my eyes, heading straight for the coffin.
Once inside the room, I crouched beneath the lightweight coffin, searching meticulously.
A faint trace of Ashes that closely resembled the color of the ground abruptly caught my eye, leaving me stunned.
Was this what had caused me to become lost in that terrifying space? Were these the Ashes left behind by the burned talisman, or something else entirely?
Based on my previous experiences with Mediumship, if nothing unexpected occurred, it should have taken about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense to make a round trip.
However, just moments ago, I heard Fatty say that I hadn’t gone anywhere while lying in the coffin and had even hit someone.
Not only had my awakening time extended, but I had also struck someone. This was hard for me to accept. Was it because I was used to water Mediumship, or had someone tampered with things using Evil Arts to prevent my return? Did they even intend to trap me in that space? If so, then the one who cast the Evil Arts was still there!
Perhaps there was no Evil Sorcerer at all; everything was merely coincidence—my fate. But if there were no Evil Arts obstructing me, then how did this trace of Ashes come to be?
In my confusion, I reached out with my fingers. Unfortunately, as soon as I touched the Ashes, they scattered into fine powder on the ground, slightly lighter than the color of the soil. Yet it was impossible to determine whether this was Ashes transformed from talismans or just dirt.
Even if it were Ashes, I couldn’t gather them up. With a resigned sigh, I decided to rest for a while as Fatty went about his business, ignoring my presence.
I felt strangely out of place, as if I were an unnecessary person. Perhaps in Fatty's mind, this Ma Wu Funeral Home was solely his affair; he was indeed the legitimate owner of Ma Wu Funeral Home.
Honestly, from observing his expression while he worked, it seemed he was secretly enjoying himself.
I could move around now and really wanted to check on Lao Luo.
But before I could step out the door, someone came looking for me, asking for assistance in investigating Yin Yin's death.
As for Yin Yin, all I felt was guilt—an overwhelming sense of guilt. The visitor spoke politely; they weren’t someone I recognized. I had been to the Station several times and didn’t recall seeing this person before.
As we exchanged questions and answers, they appeared both satisfied and dissatisfied at once, casually writing down notes. I suspected that Xiuxian must have informed others about my inquiries regarding Yin Yin, which led to some suspicion against me at the Station.
I have nothing to feel guilty about; a person with a clear conscience has no fear of shadows. I will do what needs to be done.
The questions were finished.
I wanted to ask about Lao Luo, but I was afraid it might lead to other matters.
After all, I am also one of the suspects; otherwise, would the Station have sent someone to investigate me?
Feeling anxious, I escorted the person from the Station to the door. He turned around and seriously advised me not to go out much in the recent days, as they might come back to seek my assistance in the investigation.
Zhu Gang is dead. He got what he deserved, but it’s a pity for Yin Yin.
If I had paid more attention to foreseeing death, perhaps Yin Yin wouldn’t have died.
Out of guilt, I suddenly felt a strong urge to visit Yin Yin's home.
But it was getting dark, and pedestrians hurried along the street. Soon, rows of streetlights flickered on. In the gentle breeze, a swarm of brownish insects fluttered around, occasionally hitting my face. I could hear passersby cursing under their breath about some Ghostly Thing.
Looking up, I noticed the clouds were low, as if it were about to rain. The air felt stuffy and made me restless.
When it was completely dark, the last customer arrived at the shop a bit late. The fat man seemed busy coming in and out.
The aroma of rice wafted from the kitchen. My stomach growled, but I couldn’t calm my mind; thoughts of what happened in the coffin tangled in my head. I had no interest in serving customers who came to buy things and lazily propped my legs up on the bed while playing on my phone.
Hearing someone talking outside, I got up and walked out. I saw a man standing by the Counter, asking the fat man how much a paper watch on the second shelf cost.
“Hey, how much is that paper watch?”
Looking closely at this man, I noticed his eyes were red and swollen, bloodshot veins crisscrossing his eyeballs. After staring for a while, I realized he bore a striking resemblance to Yin Yin. Could he be Yin Yin's father?
I stepped outside, and the man shot me a glance before picking up a paper watch and stumbling away. Did he know something? I watched his figure disappear into the distance before finally turning back to look at the fat man.
The fat man said, “He is Yin Yin's uncle. He promised her a watch for her birthday but never delivered. Now he’s buying her a paper watch instead.”
"Yin Yin's body is in the Station?"
Pang nodded. "Yeah, here's a list. Check if the numbers match." This was the order he received in the afternoon, and I hadn't verified it yet. My mind was still cluttered with many unresolved matters, leaving me with no energy to take on any tasks.
"I don't want to work right now; push all the Orders aside." I said this somewhat absentmindedly and impatiently. I knew Pang wouldn't be pleased with me dismissing these Orders, but I didn't have the patience to explain further.
Returning to my room, I checked the time; there were still a few hours until the appointment with Mi Li.
I paced anxiously around the room.
Pang's loud voice squeezed through the door crack. I could hear him clearly; his tone was gentle, implying that Ma Wu Funeral Home was too busy lately to take on new orders.
It was not good to cancel Orders like this.
The good reputation my grandfather built could be ruined in an instant, which would indirectly affect future business.
I could hear Pang cursing under his breath; I wasn't deaf.
I walked over and shut the door.
Still, I couldn't completely block out his voice.
Next, I heard him lie back in his chair, the creaking sound of the seat as he heavily set down his dishes.
As night deepened, the quiet sky buzzed with distant sounds, like something heavy rolling across the clouds.
A piercing cat's wail followed by a dog's bark echoed through the night, and from afar, a child’s mournful cry pierced the silence, creating an eerie atmosphere in the stillness of night.
I leaned against the wall by the darkroom door, silently missing my grandfather.
Suddenly, Pang popped out, arms crossed and looking serious. "Ma Qi, I want to talk to you about something."
Seeing his mysterious demeanor piqued my curiosity; I wondered what he could possibly have to tell me.
As I glanced at the time, realizing I still had half an hour before meeting Mi Li, I knew I needed to prepare. After all, it was my first time seeing her. A flutter of excitement stirred within me, and I decided to avoid any pointless chatter with Fatty for now.
Unexpectedly, Fatty was in a foul mood over a recent order. I couldn't help but think that the name "Xie Ming Manor" sounded strange. After checking myself in the mirror one last time and feeling satisfied, I stepped out, only to be confronted by Fatty, who stood with his hands on his hips, blocking my way.
“Ma Qi, you’re just wasting time doing nothing. Grandpa’s Funeral Home isn’t yours alone to inherit. If you’re not interested in running it, how about I, Zhu Dachang, take it over instead?”
Fatty really had the nerve to come out! I was taken aback; my mind was focused on meeting Mi Li. I didn’t want to argue with him, but he glared at me fiercely, determined to block my path.
Seeing him like this made my heart sink.
“Move aside; I have important matters to attend to.”
“You can’t leave.” Fatty’s hand landed on my shoulder with a firm grip as he tried to pull me back.
“Maregebi, don’t push your luck. I’ll deal with you when I get back.” I shoved him away with a punch and stormed out.
“Ma Qi, damn you…” His curses echoed down the empty street.
I didn’t look back at him. Striding purposefully toward Xie Ming Manor, I took a route that most people wouldn’t dare to tread.
This path was eerily quiet and strange; the row of streetlights failed to illuminate anything—they were all out of order.
By “out of order,” I meant that the lights themselves were fine; the wiring wasn’t the issue—it just wouldn’t turn on.
These streetlights had been carefully selected to be installed on this street. But for some unknown reason, what worked perfectly well elsewhere became utterly useless here.
Don’t dismiss it as superstition.
There were plenty of odd occurrences here; any one of those streetlights had undergone testing before being placed here.
A bright streetlight from another location could not simply be moved here without consequence. How heavy could the lamp posts be? They couldn’t just be relocated casually! If they worked fine elsewhere, they should work here too. Yet somehow, despite all efforts to bring these lamp posts and shades here, they remained stubbornly dark.
Everything was in place except for a spark of light; no matter how hard you tried, they simply wouldn’t shine.
It wasn't just one streetlight that was malfunctioning; the entire street's lights were out.
In my childhood, I heard my grandfather say that this street was filled with a heavy atmosphere.
During the invasion of the Japanese in our northeastern provinces, this street was said to be soaked in blood, with corpses piled up like firewood. A cart would run back and forth for several nights just to haul away the bodies. This street was once called "Corpse Road," but later it was renamed "Cobblestone Street."
On Cobblestone Street, when someone walks by, as dusk falls, the residents of the area act as if they’ve seen a ghost. They call their children, cats, and dogs back home, locking their doors early, unwilling to peek outside no matter what happens.
This is why the street is referred to as Ghost Street; at nightfall, it becomes virtually deserted.
Even the boldest thief wouldn't dare to walk down this street. It is said that a reckless thief once tried to exploit people's fear to steal something. However, he ended up dead in a public restroom, his face twisted in a horrifying grimace.
I knew there was something wrong with this street, but I had to cross it. It was the quickest route to my destination: Xie Ming Manor.
Comment 0 Comment Count