The night was quiet and cold, with dim lighting indoors, and a gentle breeze blowing outside.
At 11:30 p.m., inside the Nanyang City Funeral Home, Lin Feng removed his gloves, exhaled deeply, and walked out of the stitching room. He lit three incense sticks on the offering table.
"Rest in peace, everyone. I don't know any prayers, but I'll ask an old monk to perform rites for you another day."
The breeze stirred the yellow paper in the brazier, sending sparks into the air. The incense flickered, and after a moment of restless movement, everything fell silent, as if in response to Lin Feng's words.
The third floor of the Nanyang City Funeral
Home was pitch dark outside. Inside the vast and empty building, only Lin Feng remained. He looked at the beautiful female corpse before him. Her facial wounds had been neatly stitched up, and he slowly pushed her into the freezer.
Leaving the funeral home, Lin Feng waved at the guard. "Mr. He, I'm heading out."
In the guardhouse, Mr. He, without lifting his head, replied while listening to an opera on the radio, "Dead men don't say goodbye, living men don't say they're leaving. Xiao Lin, you've been here for almost two years now. Be more mindful in the future."
Lin Feng smiled sheepishly, acknowledging the advice.
The last bus had already finished its route, but Lin Feng didn't mind. He hopped on his bicycle and leisurely rode toward the city. His night was just beginning.
The funeral home was located on the western outskirts of Nanyang City. Due to its remote location and haunted rumors, no one drove past here at night, especially during midnight when the yin energy was said to be at its strongest. Even the bravest drivers would take a longer detour. The road was empty, and Lin Feng sped down the highway, the cool breeze dispelling the summer heat. Having an entire road to himself wasn't a bad feeling at all.
Beep Beep—
The honking of a car startled him. Two beams of headlights appeared at the corner ahead, catching Lin Feng off guard.
It was rare to encounter a driver on this road at night.
A taxi approached and stopped beside him. The driver was an old acquaintance.
"Lin, just finished work? Need a ride?" the driver called out.
Despite being only 22, Lin Feng had been out in the world since he was 16. His maturity and his unique profession as a mortician earned him the respectful title of "Master Lin" among those who knew him.
"Nah, thanks, Mr. Qi. I'll ride home to get some exercise. What brings you out to the western outskirts so late? Picking someone up?" Lin Feng chuckled as he lit a cigarette.
Mr. Qi wrinkled his nose at the smoke. "I got a big fare tonight. Gonna pick someone up and take them to the city—200 bucks for the ride. You sure you don't want to hop in? I won't charge you."
Lin Feng waved him off. "No need, go get your passenger. I'll head off now."
Seeing that Lin Feng wasn't getting in, Mr. Qi didn't push further. "Lin, you should quit smoking! It's bad for your health! Maybe next time I'll give you a lift."
With that, he drove away.
Lin Feng watched the taxi head toward the funeral home, sighing to himself, Mr. Qi, you've been dead for three months, and you're still this dedicated to your job. I have to admire you!
Three months ago, a tragic car accident occurred in Nanyang City. A taxi driver, suffering from low blood sugar, lost control and crashed into three cars before plunging off a bridge. He died instantly. That driver was Mr. Qi, and it was Lin Feng who had stitched his body together.
Lin Feng had been in the mortician business for two years now. He knew that some people continued their lives after death in the same way they did while alive. While many might not believe such stories, those who worked in funeral homes long enough knew the truth. It wasn't uncommon at all.
As Lin Feng sped down the empty highway, Mr. Qi's taxi caught up from behind, passed him, and honked twice in greeting. Lin Feng noticed a woman sitting in the back seat, stunningly beautiful, with fair skin and a scar on her face—the very same woman whose body he had just stitched up.
She waved at Lin Feng from the car window as the taxi sped off.
Lin Feng slammed on the brakes, staring dumbfounded at the disappearing taillights, and suddenly shouted, "Mr. Qi! Stop the damn car!!"
...
On West Alley in Nanyang City, at the "Night Charm" bar.
The monotonous and tiring work of the day had ended. The night belonged to noise and revelry.
Lin Feng, being quiet and introverted, had few friends but was somewhat of a regular at this bar.
West Alley was a bar street in Nanyang City, known for its vibrant nightlife. Sitting in a corner booth, Lin Feng gazed at the stage performer, his expression a mix of disbelief and resignation. She really knows how to pick a spot!
The performer was a new female singer on stage, singing Chen Shuhua's "Ask" with a melancholic, pained voice. Her vocal tone was excellent, but she sang the song with so much sorrow that while the women in the crowd seemed pleased, the men who were drinking weren't having it.
When the song ended, a few drunken men heckled, "Hey, sing something more upbeat! I'll buy you a bouquet!"
The singer smiled sweetly. "It's my first time here, so I'll just sing three songs tonight. I hope you'll all support me in the future." She bowed and, ignoring the audience's protests, walked backstage.
A male singer took over, trying to lighten the mood with some dirty jokes and bringing the atmosphere back up.
Lin Feng saw the female singer, now in a new outfit, walk out of the backstage area and sit in a booth not far from him. Straightening his clothes, he picked up his drink and walked over.
"Nice singing, Miss Wang," Lin Feng greeted as he sat down beside her without waiting for an invitation.
Even with heavy makeup, it was clear that she had a naturally beautiful face, with fair skin, delicate features, red nails adorned with rhinestones, and slender legs in high heels. However, there was one flaw—a scar on her face, one that even makeup couldn't conceal.
When the female singer saw Lin Feng, she looked startled, as if she hadn't expected to meet him here.
"Master Lin, I didn't expect you to visit bars," she teased, her eyes slightly playful.
Lin Feng rubbed his nose and chuckled. "The work environment is stressful. I need a place to unwind. Who would've thought I'd run into you tonight? Seems like fate."
Her expression briefly tensed but quickly softened into a coy smile. "You've already seen all of me today. Aren't you going to buy me a drink?"
She leaned in closer, her attitude suggestive, the neckline of her loose blouse revealing a glimpse of cleavage. Lin Feng glanced down and could vaguely see two faint protrusions through her shirt. The scent of cosmetics mixed with alcohol filled the air, but beneath it all, Lin Feng could still smell a faint, familiar odor.
The stench of a corpse.
The woman in front of him, Wang Qian, was the same one who had left with Mr. Qi's taxi earlier, and one of the corpses Lin Feng had stitched up that day.
Lin Feng wasn't used to being this close to a corpse. He shifted away slightly, snapped his fingers, and ordered a drink from the waiter. He handed Wang Qian a glass of Blue Angel.
"Miss Wang, taking a taxi all the way from the western outskirts at this hour, you're not just here to sing a few songs, are you?" Lin Feng asked only after she finished her drink.
Over the past year, Wang Qian had been one of the most beautiful deceased women he had ever seen. With a gentle, artistic vibe, she appeared to be no older than 28. However, based on the numerous tattoos and cigarette burns on her body, Lin Feng knew she wasn't as innocent as she looked.
And her body had been slashed 16 times. Lin Feng wondered what kind of grudge could have led someone to butcher her like that.
Seeing her leave in Mr. Qi's cab earlier had enraged Lin Feng. Damn Mr. Qi, you're dead, and yet you're still picking up fares at the funeral home! Who came up with the idea of burning cars and cell phones for the dead? What a mess!
Wang Qian smiled at Lin Feng, but due to the stitches on her face, her smile looked unnaturally stiff. "Master Lin, do morticians these days concern themselves with so much? I'm here for revenge tonight. Are you going to stop me?"
Wang Qian's gums were a dark purple, her teeth yellow and sharp, and blood stained her lips. Her pupils had shrunk to pinpoints, leaving her eyes mostly white, and her gaze sent a chill down Lin Feng's spine.
The sudden gust of cold air made Lin Feng shiver.
It was midnight, and a female ghost was out for revenge. This was none of his business. He was just a mortician. Besides his boss praising his strong fate, there was nothing special about him. His connection to Wang Qian was purely professional—she was his "client." And nowadays, wasn't it all about customer service?
Lin Feng lit a cigarette, looking somewhat troubled as he spoke, "Miss Wang, if you have a grudge to settle or a score to avenge, I can't stop you, nor do I want to. But you're already a ghost, so there's no need to drag this corpse around and make a scene, is there? The body will be cremated tomorrow. It's already a mess, and I'll be the one cleaning it up! I have so much work to do, with all those bodies waiting at the funeral home. I can't spend all my time on you."
Wang Qian glared at Lin Feng with venomous eyes. Seeing that he was only talking about his work, as if he didn't take her seriously at all, she opened her mouth and exhaled a puff of black air. The temperature around Lin Feng suddenly dropped as darkness enveloped him. The bar, once lively, became eerily empty, leaving only Wang Qian standing across from him, her pupils bleeding as she stared him down.
A foul stench filled the air, and Lin Feng waved his hand in front of his nose in exasperation. "Miss Wang, what are you trying to do?"
A mocking glint flashed in Wang Qian's eyes. "You think you can control me?"
Lin Feng spread his hands, his expression innocent. "I'm really not trying to control you. If you behave and return the body, you could slaughter everyone in this bar tonight for all I care—it wouldn't be my problem."
"And what if I don't?" she sneered.
Lin Feng sighed, closed his eyes, and traced a line with his forefinger down the center of his forehead. When he reopened them, his usually languid gaze had turned cold and pitch black. The darkness around them quickly dissipated, and the noisy bar returned to its previous state.
Wang Qian stared in disbelief as the scene around her changed. Lin Feng had effortlessly broken her "ghostly trap," leaving her feeling confused, and soon, a wave of fear crept over her.
Lin Feng sat beside her, casually slinging an arm around her neck and whispering, "Miss Wang, unruly ghosts aren't welcome."
Wang Qian instantly felt Lin Feng's arm tighten around her like an iron shackle, rendering her completely immobile. His eyes, now as deep and dark as an abyss, locked onto hers. It was as if she was being drawn into them. A sharp pain pierced through her mind, but she couldn't utter a word.
Lin Feng placed his hand on the top of her head and, with a firm grip, yanked out Wang Qian's soul. Her body immediately went limp, collapsing against Lin Feng.
Wang Qian's spirit, now trapped in Lin Feng's hand, realized in shock that she had been confined inside a vessel.
"Forget about your revenge. You'll behave yourself from now on," Lin Feng said calmly.
Carrying her lifeless body, Lin Feng made his way out of the bar, like a hunter leaving with his prey for the night—grotesque and terrifying.
A waiter ran up to block Lin Feng's path. "Sir, you can't take her away. She's one of our resident singers…"
Lin Feng tilted his head and shot the waiter a glare. "Get lost!"