Chapter 3

Fang Yu took a tactical sip of water.

It wasn’t that he begrudged the money—fifty buns sounded like a lot, but it was only seventy-five yuan. And compared to nearly losing his job, it was hardly worth mentioning.

He was simply astonished that Rong Jing, who appeared to be a slender youth, could eat so much. Especially now, looking at Rong Jing’s expression, he seemed not entirely satisfied.

Fang Yu cleared his throat and tentatively asked, “Master Rong, are you full?”

Rong Jing gave him a shy smile and nodded gratefully.

Fang Yu was silent for a moment, hesitating before he said, “Please, don’t be polite with me—”

Before he could finish, Rong Jing looked even more embarrassed. “…I’m still a little hungry.”

Fang Yu said, “…Come on, I’ll take you somewhere else to eat.”

Just then, Boss Liu had come over to say the shop was out of stock—even the last leaking vegetable bun had found its way into Rong Jing’s stomach.

Fang Yu took Rong Jing to a nearby restaurant, intending to order a few signature dishes to let the master taste the specialties of Changxi County. But when faced with a choice between delicious flavors and fullness, Rong Jing clearly chose the latter, waving his hand and ordering ten large portions of egg fried rice, finally filling his empty stomach.

He stretched contentedly and thanked Fang Yu with genuine sincerity.

Fang Yu, once again flattered, hurriedly waved his hand, saying there was no need for thanks.

After their meal, Fang Yu wanted to escort Rong Jing back to Boss Liu’s bun shop, but Rong Jing insisted he could find his way, so Fang Yu did not insist. As they parted, since Rong Jing had no phone, Fang Yu proactively left him his contact information and reminded him several times, “Master Rong, when you get a phone, remember to add me on WeChat. I’ll introduce you to some business then.”

Rong Jing tucked the slip of paper with Fang Yu’s number into his pocket, waved, and returned to the bun shop.

Around one in the afternoon, Boss Liu drove his black sedan—emblazoned with four rings—carrying his wife, child, and the little zombie who had hitched a ride, on their way to Sui County.

The whole way, Rong Jing’s heart pounded at the thought of soon meeting Xie Changshi. Although the divination foretold that things would turn for the better, guaranteeing a favorable outcome, Rong Jing couldn’t help worrying that twelve years was too long—a span in which someone else could have become Xie Changshi’s close friend.

He pressed his face against the window, troubled.

…

After more than an hour’s drive, Rong Jing and his companions finally reached Sui County.

Boss Liu was a native of Heshui Village in Sui County and knew the surrounding villages and the county seat well. When Rong Jing mentioned the apartment block, Boss Liu immediately understood. “I know that place. I heard a wealthy family came from there.”

“A wealthy family?” Rong Jing blinked in surprise.

He’d lived in that building with Xie Changshi for nearly a year. At first, Xie Changshi, wary of his little zombie identity, hadn’t planned to let him interact with the other tenants. But after realizing Rong Jing wasn’t like the zombies of legend—he didn’t fear sunlight, didn’t want to bite people at every turn, except for occasionally itchy teeth—Xie Changshi tried to help him better integrate into human society by stuffing information about nearly all the tenants into his head.

Rong Jing remembered Xie Changshi had once mentioned that the cranky old man on the third floor had a grandson who excelled at his studies and was scouted by a big company right out of graduation.

Yet at the time, the gruff old man had been modest, saying, “If you want to talk about impressive kids, it’s Changshi who stands out. He’ll go far in life.”

Rong Jing agreed.

The year they first met, Xie Changshi was sixteen, a high school student, always finishing first in every exam.

That was the only time Rong Jing found the old man, though fierce, rather agreeable.

Lost in his memories, Rong Jing was brought back by Boss Liu’s voice. “Yes, apparently he’s a big boss now, but I don’t know the details. I left to open a breakfast shop ten years ago. Even though I’m from around here, I barely get back a few times a year. But… I heard that apartment block is being demolished. Master Rong, are you sure the person you’re looking for hasn’t moved away?”

Rong Jing frowned uncertainly and muttered, “I don’t think so.”

Despite his words, his expression grew more troubled.

Once out of the car, Rong Jing intended to bid Boss Liu farewell, but to his surprise, Boss Liu was more thoughtful than he’d expected. Having heard from Fang Yu that Rong Jing had just come down the mountain and had no way to contact anyone, Boss Liu decided to park and wait downstairs. If Rong Jing couldn’t find his person, he’d take him back to the village for a meal.

Rong Jing looked up at the apartment building. Twelve years had passed, and the walls were now mottled and worn. With demolition imminent and fewer residents, the building looked even older and more dilapidated.

Rong Jing climbed the stairs, clouds of gray-white plaster dusting the ground at every step. Huffing and puffing, he reached the eighth floor, found his way by memory to apartment 803, and, looking up, his eyes lit up.

The entrance to 803 looked much the same as it had twelve years ago. The old door still bore Spring Festival couplets and a “Fu” character for good fortune. There was a shoe cabinet at the door, but instead of shoes, it held a still-green potted plant and several neatly seated stuffed animals.

Rong Jing picked up the rabbit plush by its ear and examined it closely. It was indeed the same rabbit from his memories, though now much more worn.

Unable to wait any longer, he knocked at the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

No answer.

Undeterred, Rong Jing knocked again.

Knock, knock, knock.

At last, footsteps approached. With a click, not the door of 803 but that of 801 swung open, revealing an elderly face.

The old woman squinted at Rong Jing for a long moment, then suddenly said, “Little Mirror?”

…

Yancheng.

In the VIP ward corridor of the Xie family’s private hospital.

Song Qing frowned as he took a call. Hearing the person on the line say, “There’s a new pit in the ground, and in the pit there’s a coffin that’s been opened,” a series of enormous question marks popped into his mind.

He couldn’t help but ask, “Are you joking with me right now?”

The manager of Nancheng Cemetery sounded utterly wretched. Heaven only knew how terrified the security guard had been that morning when he found a propped-up tent and a coffin in the northwest corner of the cemetery.

But the real fright didn’t come until after checking the surveillance footage.

“I’m not joking, sir. After the guard called me, I checked the cameras. The footage shows that around midnight, five young men climbed over the wall into the cemetery, all carrying backpacks. Presumably, the tent in the northwest corner was theirs. But before two in the morning, the cameras caught them again, running as if chased by ghosts—faster than rabbits—bolting straight out of the cemetery.”

“I called the police. They found those young men. All their statements matched: the coffin wasn’t theirs. And while they were drinking and chatting, a voice not belonging to any of them suddenly joined in… As for who it was, they were too scared to look back; they just ran for their lives.”

Song Qing was silent.

He rubbed his brow, said he understood, and hung up.

But as he turned, a ripple of unease stirred within him.

He was the personal assistant to Xie Changshi, the head of the Xie family. From the day he started working for Xie Changshi, he had known his boss paid particular attention to news from Nancheng Cemetery in Changxi County and from Sui County.

Song Qing never understood why, guessing perhaps someone important to his boss was buried in Nancheng Cemetery. But Xie Changshi and his mother had lived in Sui County, and after her death, she was buried in a Sui County cemetery. So, the logic didn’t quite fit.

Until now… Suddenly, a wild thought crossed Song Qing’s mind: could it be that his boss had always paid attention to Nancheng Cemetery because he already knew a coffin was hidden there?

Song Qing shuddered, deciding his imagination was getting out of hand, and quickly returned to the ward.

In the spacious room, sunlight filtered through the curtains onto the bed, illuminating the features of the young man lying there. A month ago, Xie Changshi had suddenly fallen into a coma without warning. Every possible test had been run, yet nothing could be found. With no diagnosis and no sign of waking, all anyone could do was wait, as he lay quietly as he did now.

But early this morning, good news arrived.

During a night check, the nurse noticed Xie Changshi’s fingers twitch.

Though the test results were unchanged, everyone believed it was a sign he was about to wake.

Song Qing exhaled, and was just about to pull the quilt higher for Xie Changshi when, as he bent down, he was caught off guard by a pair of black eyes suddenly opening.

Song Qing froze—before he could express his joy, a shrill ringtone cut through the air.

Between his boss waking and taking the call, there was no contest. Still, glancing at the caller ID, he blinked in surprise and instinctively answered.

A strange but pleasant voice came through: “Hello, this is Rong Jing. Grandma said you could help me find Xie Changshi, is that right?”