Washed, disinfected, injected with preservatives, the body sent today is still fresh, and it was just judged dead from the hospital in Shangyangpo at nine o'clock in the morning.
Ji Xingzhi, who had been busy for a night, saw the sent corpse before leaving work, and suddenly dispelled the idea of going home in a hurry, changed into protective clothing again, and began to work again.
He had heavy dark circles, had not eaten breakfast, and had been working in the morgue for more than twelve hours straight.
During the period, when the assistant came to work, he persuaded Ji Xingzhi to let him rest for a while. Ji Xingzhi disagreed, still stubbornly doing the work at hand, and finally barely drank half a bottle of water.
"If you are hungry, go and eat by yourself." Ji Xingzhi's tone was impatient, he didn't raise his head, and when he took the tweezers, he didn't know if he deliberately bumped into the other party's arm, as if he was chasing someone. The assistant had to shut his mouth and did not speak again.
He couldn't catch Ji Xingzhi's fast movements, and suddenly felt like a burden, and he stayed up until twelve o'clock in the afternoon and was very sensible to leave for lunch.
At this point, Ji Xingzhi, who had calculated for a morning, was able to find a gap, and quickly and neatly cut away the relatively complete liver of the deceased.
Anyway, there were also places in the abdomen of the corpse that needed to be sutured and repaired, and he hurried non-stop, completing the final cleaning steps before the assistant returned, and filling the vacant place in the right abdominal cavity with cotton.
The object of service on the dissection table was a man in his early twenties, presumably a college student, and when Ji Xingzhi finished the most important part of the repair, he had to sit on the stool by the workbench to rest, and he glanced boredly at the pale and collapsed dead face. It should look good when you are alive, and it may look better when you wear makeup.
The body in front of him was a poor person who was not very lucky for the information filled in by the family members, and Ji Xingzhi rarely showed a trace of regret, but it disappeared in just an instant. Since working in the funeral home, he has been exposed to all kinds of deaths and strange family members almost every day, which has made him gradually become cold and accustomed from the initial pity and guilt.
"Sorry, I'm coming back late." The assistant hurriedly pushed open the door and straightened the protective clothing on his body as he walked. Wearing a mask, he was panting slightly as he walked quickly, the hem of his protective suit lifted with his steps, and the curled breeze seemed to carry the aroma of a hearty lunch.
Ji Xingzhi followed the prestige and wrinkled his nose. In this cold and humid room, any smell of fireworks is an arrogant disturber and makes him feel uncomfortable.
"No hurry." However, Ji Xingzhi replied, and he slowly returned to the dissection table, waiting for the assistant to pack up the suture instruments and prepare the tools for makeup.
Ji Xingzhi's job is to repair the body and apply makeup to the deceased. The assistant glanced at Ji Xingzhi cautiously, feeling that Ji Xingzhi's mood was much calmer, not as irritable as in the morning, hesitated for a moment, and asked again with the courage to whisper: "Teacher, do you have something to eat?"
The newly hired assistant had only been here for a few days, and the people were quite enthusiastic, but Ji Xingzhi did not need such enthusiastic people. "Just ate half a sandwich in the lounge next door." He replied, adding explanation, "I have food in my duffel bag."
The black rectangular one-shoulder duffel bag is in the lounge next to the wall, and for the past six months, Ji Xingzhi has had to carry it to and from work every day.
At first, colleagues at the funeral home were curious to ask him why he always carried such a large bag, but Ji Xingzhi only said that it contained a thermos cup and a bento box.
Because doing this work made him a little embarrassed to eat at a nearby restaurant, and it was even more difficult to order takeaway to be delivered to the funeral home, so he had this cumbersome habit.
Ji Xingzhi had shown them the contents of his bag, and on several occasions he shared the food with them, all made by himself at home.
Ji Xingzhi's cooking is not delicious, since Fu Hexi left, there has been no one to cook for him, and he can only fend for himself.
After a few tastes, colleagues no longer wondered, after all, Ji Xingzhi only cooked the food, without any seasoning or taste, and they were no longer keen to come here to rub rice.
However, Ji Xingzhi's bag was really just food, just like the liver cut off from the corpse just now, giving it to the "one" at home was enough to be a delicious meal.