The sky was barely light.
"Who was it? Who on earth did it?!"
Aunt Mary's furious scream came from the basement.
Then,
She stormed up the ramp,
And saw Dis dressed in his priestly robes.
"Father, I don't know who in hell messed with Mr. Moisan in the basement…"
"I performed a ritual for him."
"Oh, I see. Praise your mercy, may Mr. Moisan rest in peace."
Aunt Mary immediately began to pray.
Afterwards,
She returned to the workshop and quietly started to "touch up" Mr. Moisan's makeup.
It wasn't the first time a body brought to the house had been "disturbed." Her father-in-law had performed rituals for bodies several times, causing their makeup to get ruined.
But,
Since it was her father-in-law,
Aunt Mary dared not show any anger towards him—not in the slightest.
Last night, after Orpheus left the workshop, he had carefully placed Mr. Moisan's body back on the gurney, wiped away his own blood from the floor, and straightened Mr. Moisan's clothing. But the makeup… Orpheus didn't have the skill to fix that.
So, after cleaning up, he simply washed himself and went to bed.
When he woke up,
His cousin Lent, who shared a room with him, was already gone.
Orpheus sat up in bed, patting his forehead.
This body was indeed handsome, even from a man's perspective.
But it was just too weak.
In his past life, Orpheus, despite often staying up late and smoking, kept up with running and exercising. His physical condition was still quite decent.
"Looks like I'll have to start working out again."
After washing up, Orpheus went down to the second floor and saw milk and bread set on the table.
He poured a glass of milk, dipped the bread in it, ate two pieces, then gulped down the milk with crumbs floating in it. Orpheus tidied up his collar and cuffs before heading down to the first floor.
A phonograph was playing the piano piece "The Departed," one of the most frequently used songs in mourning halls in Roja City and the surrounding areas.
Orpheus stood by the phonograph; the first floor was already set up, appearing solemn and dignified.
Ron and Paul were placing the coffin on a small platform, Mina and Chris were busy lighting candles,
While cousin Lent was mopping the floor, cleaning up any potential footprints.
Aunt Mary sat in the corner drinking water, looking rather tired. Orpheus knew why she was tired—what had been finished last night had to be redone this morning, so it was naturally exhausting.
Aunt Winnie was holding a booklet, checking the inventory.
Everything in the house, except for the "flowers," was reused.
Even though the items were all used repeatedly, losing any of them would incur a significant cost to replace.
Grandfather stood by the small platform, watching Ron and Paul set the coffin.
Orpheus had been downstairs for a while, and Grandfather hadn't specifically looked his way.
Everyone in the family was working, and Orpheus, being the only one allowed to sleep in, was indeed a special privilege.
"Please come in; I appreciate you coming so early."
"It's no trouble at all, it's my duty, haha."
Uncle Mason welcomed in a middle-aged bald man, dressed in cheap clothing but with an air of importance.
Orpheus sifted through his memories and recalled that his name was "Malmer," a deputy director at a district government office.
In his "memory," Aunt Mary didn't think much of this man, feeling he was too greedy, with poor manners and a tendency to flaunt his position. In his office, aside from one director, everyone else was a "deputy director."
The other people in the office all got their positions through connections, so Malmer ended up being the one to run around doing the actual work. So, in reality, he was just an office worker.
Mr. Malmer noticed Orpheus and reached out to touch his head.
Orpheus took a step back, avoiding his hand.
"Heh, heh, I heard you were sick last time I visited, but you seem to be better now?"
"Yes, thank you for your concern," Orpheus replied.
"Good."
Mr. Malmer didn't linger, stepping up to the platform and taking out an old "Wohlfarth" camera to snap a photo of Lazarus in the coffin, then stepped back down.
Grandfather, dressed as a priest, stood before the coffin, bowing his head in prayer.
"Click!"
Malmer took another photo.
Finally,
He stepped back to the entrance of the hall, finding a spot with better lighting, and lifted the camera to capture the entire scene.
Orpheus saw that Aunt Mary, who had been sitting, stood up, and everyone, including his cousins, straightened and bowed their heads in mourning.
"Ready, everyone…"
Orpheus also stood straight, lowering his head.
"Click!"
"That's it."
Malmer put down the camera.
Uncle Mason handed him a small black notebook, which Malmer accepted with a nod.
It contained a tip.
That's how it worked with welfare cases—government grants and charity allocations might look decent on paper, but the funds had to be divided at every level.
Of course, today's "tip" would be larger than usual because Mr. Malmer had come especially early.
With the three photos needed for filing taken, Mr. Malmer didn't dawdle, taking his camera and notebook and heading straight out. Uncle Mason escorted him all the way to the door.
Even if he wanted to flatter Malmer by offering him a ride back to the office, he couldn't, unless Mr. Malmer was willing to be taken in a hearse. The Immorales family didn't own a private car.
Afterwards,
Paul and Ron worked together to lift Lazarus's body out of the coffin, placed it on a gurney, and pushed it back to the basement.
Next, they brought out "Mr. Moisan," placing him in the coffin.
Aunt Mary stepped forward, adjusting his posture as much as possible to make Mr. Moisan appear more "comfortable" and "at peace."
The rest of the decorations and settings remained unchanged, just like before.
This was a "double booking."
Although Mr. Moisan's children were stingy in other areas, because some relatives lived out of town, they had reserved the mourning hall for a "whole day" instead of "half a day."
Of course, if they could, they would have reserved by the hour.
So today, "Lazarus" was actually just borrowing Mr. Moisan's time slot.
With Lazarus's service completed, he had to return to the basement.
Mr. Moisan was now "settled" in his place,
While Paul and Ron set up signs at the hall entrance and the garden gate, indicating that today was Mr. Moisan's memorial.
With nothing to do on the first floor, Orpheus wandered to the garden and picked some patches of Agastache leaves.
He then headed upstairs to the kitchen.
Today's lunch was his responsibility.
Often, mourning halls would provide simple meals for grieving guests, but this depended on whether the family requested and paid for the service.
So, the Immorales family would eat together when working, treating it as their meal.
But today, Mr. Moisan's children didn't even order the cheapest lemonade, so the family had to prepare their own lunch.
Orpheus didn't feel out of place in the kitchen; he often cooked for himself in his previous life and enjoyed it. His cooking skills, while not at a professional chef's level, were considered excellent among home cooks.
He washed the Agastache leaves and placed a few into a cup, pouring hot water over them.
Then he began selecting ingredients. The family had a good stockpile, but Orpheus didn't plan to make anything too elaborate.
The kitchen had a fridge that looked relatively new, probably purchased recently, but to Orpheus, it seemed "old" enough.
While preparing the ingredients, he heard some noise from downstairs—guests arriving for Mr. Moisan's memorial.
Mina and Chris came up to the second floor, standing curiously outside the kitchen, watching Orpheus knead dough.
Usually, when there were guests, the two girls would serve tea and water downstairs, but today they didn't need to.
"Brother, when did you learn to cook?" Mina asked.
"Yes, yes, and what's that stick for?" Chris leaned in, asking.
"Just wait and see."
Orpheus smiled, holding a rolling pin he'd dismantled from his small desk in the bedroom. There were better, longer dowels in the basement, but Orpheus didn't dare use them, not even after washing.
Heating oil, Orpheus placed the prepared spring rolls into the pan to fry, then set them aside to drain.
The spring rolls were filled with leeks and some minced meat.
Afterwards, Orpheus began frying eggplant cakes, adding a slice of Agastache to each for a crispier texture and to cut the grease.
Because there were many family members, including Ron and Paul, who would join for lunch, Orpheus fried two large plates of spring rolls and eggplant cakes each.
Next,
Orpheus started making the sauce. He realized he'd need to go to the market later; the pantry was well-stocked, but they lacked essential spices.
He placed the marinated chicken pieces into the pot, covered it, and let them stew.
Yes, Orpheus was preparing "
braised chicken."
He picked up his cup, sipping the warm Agastache tea.
Ah,
Orpheus loved this feeling.
Back home in his previous life, there was a simple but popular dish called "tea-soaked rice." It used Agastache tea with some pickles, a light and addictive meal, though not kind to the stomach.
Oh, right, he'd have to make some pickles. There were jars in the basement, but Orpheus decided he'd buy new ones at the market.
Once the chicken was almost done, Orpheus added potatoes, mushrooms, green peppers, and other ingredients, finishing with a final high heat.
In another pot, he made a simple tomato and egg soup.
When the soup was ready, so was the braised chicken.
"Mina, Chris, come get the dishes."
"Yes, Brother."
"Mmm, smells so good!"
Mina and Chris came in to help carry the dishes to the dining table.
After setting the table, Chris ran downstairs to let everyone know lunch was ready, then hurried back up, grabbing a spring roll and popping it into her mouth.
It wasn't that they were breaking any dining rules; when the family had guests, they would eat as they got free moments, not waiting for everyone to gather. Those who finished earlier could go back to work.
"It's delicious, Brother," Chris said, nodding while chewing.
"Chris, use a fork," Mina reminded.
"It's fine, just use your hands." Orpheus himself picked up a spring roll, dipping it in a bowl of fruit vinegar.
The fruit vinegar tasted similar to white vinegar, but Orpheus wasn't quite satisfied; he still preferred Zhenjiang black vinegar.
Mina poured Orpheus a bowl of soup. In the past, he would have added vinegar to tomato egg soup, but he was hesitant about the fruit vinegar's flavor.
Taking a sip,
Orpheus took a deep breath,
He felt so moved, he almost wanted to cry.
It wasn't out of hunger; after all the changes he'd been through, food from "home" provided a unique comfort to the soul.
No amount of "chicken soup" could compare to the nourishment of a real bowl of soup.
Mina and Chris ate happily, dipping spring rolls and eggplant cakes into the braised chicken sauce. Orpheus, however, refused Mina's offer to put some braised chicken on his plate.
He hadn't made rice, and braised chicken without rice had no soul.
"Brother, could you teach me to cook?" Mina asked.
"And me, and me too!" Chris chimed in eagerly.
"Sure, of course."
Just then, Aunt Mary came up and was surprised to see the food on the table. "Orpheus, did you make this?"
"Yes, Aunt. Please, have some."
"Alright."
Aunt Mary picked up a spring roll with a fork and took a bite.
"Mmm, it's delicious. When did you learn to cook?"
"I read about it in books."
"Really? That's amazing. Maybe we could add a new service and hire a chef to prepare meals for guests."
"Sure." Orpheus replied politely. Today was just a small demonstration. He knew how to cook many dishes; in his previous life, after achieving some financial freedom, he often traveled around the country, not for sightseeing but to seek out local cuisine.
He particularly loved and excelled at Sichuan dishes.
Aunt Mary continued eating, making snide remarks between bites.
"There weren't many mourners, and even fewer brought gifts. One person just brought a bunch of flowers, probably plucked right out of Mrs. Mark's garden next door."
The level of economic development is what gives rise to customs and traditions. Both weddings and funerals require support from relatives and friends, so the tradition of giving money at funerals has its rationale.
However, according to Orpheus's "memory," weddings here didn't necessarily require cash gifts; sometimes couples would provide a wish list. It wasn't much different, really.
And people still preferred receiving cash over gifts.
"Will they break even?" Orpheus asked Aunt Mary.
"That's why they booked the afternoon slot. Their relatives from out of town should be more generous, right?" Aunt Mary took a sip of soup and continued, "But whatever, less income means we can relax."
The family came up one after another for lunch, all praising Orpheus's cooking.
The spring rolls were the most popular. In the afternoon, Ron and Paul even came back to finish off the leftover, now-cold spring rolls.
When Grandfather came up for lunch, Orpheus stood by his side.
"Not bad."
"I can cook other dishes too," Orpheus said, "but I'll need more spices."
"Ask your aunt for money."
"Alright, Grandfather."
"If you're going to cook, you can have a bit more allowance. Of course, you don't have to cook every day." Dis said.
"I like cooking."
Yes, and I need the extra money too.
During this exchange between grandfather and grandson, Puer had been lying on a small sofa nearby, staring at the food, the cat lost in thought.
"Meow…" (A demon with a language of its own?)
"Meow…" (A demon that cooks?)
"Meow… meow…" (Am I mad, or is the demon mad?)
Around 3 p.m., the last group of mourners from out of town finally arrived.
There were four elderly men, dressed in suits, with medals pinned to their chests.
Orpheus noticed that their gift envelopes were noticeably thicker.
The four elders gathered around Mr. Moisan, paying their respects. One, named Dingle, asked Aunt Mary about the burial arrangements. Aunt Mary politely assured him everything was prepared.
She could criticize the stinginess of Mr. Moisan's children behind their backs, but there was no need to confront them directly.
Mr. Moisan's children hurried over to help the elderly men out, chatting with them as they left.
Standing by the door with a bucket, Orpheus heard Mr. Moisan's children explaining that due to the weather, they wouldn't be organizing a cemetery burial, saying that Mr. Moisan's last wish was for everything to be simple and not to disturb anyone.
However, Mr. Dingle clearly saw through this but didn't press the issue. As they left, Orpheus noticed him sigh deeply, wiping his eyes as he glanced back at the hall.
The memorial was over.
With Aunt Winnie's guidance and supervision, the family began cleaning up the hall.
Paul's neighbor came over to tell him that his mother had gone to the clinic due to some health issues.
Paul, who had just received a raise, asked the neighbor about his mother's condition. After all, he'd just gotten a raise, and it wouldn't be appropriate to leave work unless it was serious.
After all, today's work wasn't finished yet. Although they didn't have to transport the coffin to the cemetery, they still needed to take the two bodies to the Hughes Crematorium on the outskirts.
"Go check on your mother and give her my regards." Aunt Mary said.
"Thank you, ma'am, thank you."
Paul expressed his gratitude, then hurried off with his neighbor toward the clinic.
After Paul left, Uncle Mason looked troubled, rubbing his rear and complaining:
"It still hurts."
Aunt Mary shot him a look and yelled, "You're always shirking work!"
Normally, Uncle Mason avoided handling bodies and physical labor, and slacking off was typical.
But Orpheus could tell he genuinely wasn't up to it today; he likely had been injured yesterday. He claimed he'd fallen, but Orpheus suspected he'd been beaten.
"Uncle, I'll go with you."
It wasn't that Orpheus was being diligent, but he understood that some things didn't need to be hidden; being tacitly understood was enough.
To ensure his own safety, Orpheus knew he had to fit into this family.
"Family" was Grandfather's weakness.
In a way, Orpheus was seizing this weakness, but as long as his survival was the goal, he didn't see himself as being manipulative or insincere.
Aunt Mary initially didn't want Orpheus to do physical work. What happened in the workshop recently had made her worry about her nephew's health, but they were indeed short of manpower now.
According to local customs, aside from direct relatives, women and minors weren't supposed to go to crematoriums. Here, one was considered an adult at fifteen.
Uncle Mason, delighted, patted Orpheus's shoulder warmly. "Our Orpheus is really growing up. Ron, come on, let's get our 'guests' loaded."
Orpheus and Ron together moved Lazarus, who had been left alone in the basement for a day, and placed him in the modified "Shell" hearse.
Then, they brought Mr. Moisan out and put him in the car.
During the transfer, Ron took the lead, carrying the "guest" by the shoulders, while Orpheus only needed to hold the legs.
With the "guests" in the car, Uncle Mason and Aunt Mary waved goodbye before he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.
The car headed west, then took a turn, continuing west into the Chiswick Street townhouse district.
At that point, Orpheus noticed Uncle Mason slowing the car down deliberately.
Orpheus turned to look at the opposite townhouse.
On the second-floor windowsill,
He saw a woman sitting behind the curtain with a book and a glass of water on the table.
The woman's upper body leaned back, hidden behind the not-fully-drawn curtain, but her long legs and the red high-heeled shoe dangling from her
toe, gently rocking, exuded an air of unusual allure and seduction.
But seeing that red shoe,
Orpheus suddenly felt dizzy, a sense of heaviness pressing on his heart.
Because of that dream, he wouldn't be fond of high heels for a long time, especially… red ones.
Turning back to the driver's seat, Uncle Mason's eyes still lingered on the townhouse, a complicated expression in them.
But in "Orpheus's" memory, Uncle Mason, though lazy in business and averse to physical labor, had always been faithful in his personal life and had a good relationship with Aunt Mary.
Therefore, Orpheus didn't believe Uncle Mason was having an affair, especially not one so foolishly close to home.
He asked tentatively,
"First love?"
"Hmm… nonsense, there's no such thing!"
Uncle Mason immediately stepped on the gas.
He took one last glance at the woman in the garden, watering the flowers in her apron.
After leaving Chiswick Street, Uncle Mason couldn't help but glance at Orpheus, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"There's really nothing."
"I believe you, Uncle."
"I only recently found out she and her husband moved here. We've seen each other across the garden, but only exchanged smiles, no words. Orpheus, you know I value family."
He sighed, continuing,
"I ruined my previous family, and since I've already messed things up, there's no way I'd do anything to betray your aunt.
The other day, she ran into some trouble and asked me for help. I took care of it, and that was that. She and her husband are looking for a new house to move to."
Uncle Mason shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing at the two "guests" in the back.
Orpheus noted this detail,
So,
Uncle Mason being beaten by Grandfather had something to do with… Lazarus?
It could only be Lazarus, as Mr. Moisan had been brought from a nursing home, while Lazarus had been a welfare case who froze to death on the streets.
Thinking back to the dream he had in front of Lazarus, and the way Grandfather had gone down to the basement, then Aunt Mary had called Uncle Mason home…
Orpheus rubbed his forehead.
Lazarus,
Was he really frozen to death?
"Orpheus…"
"Don't worry, Uncle, I won't tell Aunt."
Orpheus knew that's what Uncle Mason wanted to hear. He had held back earlier, waiting for more gossip.
"Whew… haha."
...
Second floor, bedroom.
A leg, lifted, a high-heeled shoe's sole hooked the curtain, drawing it closed.
Then, the legs clad in red high heels moved toward the door.
Just as "she" was about to open the door,
The radio nearby crackled with static.
"Cough, cough, cough…"
A fit of coughing came from it.
"Where… are you going?"
The voice of the radio host sounded weak, like he was sick, or… injured.
Then,
A voice came through the radio:
"Oh, you said you sensed him?
He's dead, do you know that? You scared him to death! You've caused me so much trouble. The Order Church's Inquisitor has already been to see me."
"You think one Inquisitor from the Order Church matters?"
"Ordinarily, no, but he's not just any Inquisitor… No, I don't even know why he's only a local Inquisitor now.
My injury, it was his doing, and I don't have full confidence I could beat him."
"This injury I've sustained is to repay the debt I owe you from long ago. So please, stay put for a while. Also, there may be some trouble in Roja City soon; I've sensed several unusual presences in the outskirts."
"Him, him, him? Why are you still obsessed with him?! He was just a stupid thief you scared to death, now he's being taken for cremation, what more do you want?!"
"What?"
"You're not talking about that fool?"
"You mean… the one who entered our mental consciousness last time?"
"Then, then, then you mustn't approach him. He's definitely not an ordinary being!
In fact, I believe he's a high priest from some theocratic order, using a sacred artifact to conduct mental exploration, and he happened to sweep us up."
"It wasn't until later that I realized just how powerful he really was, because initially, I thought it was just another fool in the house that you dragged in, but then you told me he appeared without a sound,
No, he didn't appear—he descended!"
"You're asking why he did this?"
"Spying is merely his interest, not his purpose!"
"Especially when he chanted that hymn… it made my very soul tremble!"