"I'll help you with this," the old man muttered through a mouthful of stewed, tender ribs, responding casually.
"Then I'll have to trouble you, Dad. You're the only one I can rely on, the only one who can help me." Mo Zhicheng put down his chopsticks, his eyes earnestly fixed on the old man, filled with gratitude and a touch of shame.
"Just focus on doing well; a man should prioritize his career. I'll support you in every way I can," the old man said, patting Mo Zhicheng's shoulder and encouraging his tearful son.
After the meal was finished, Mo Zhicheng cleaned up the table, washed the dishes, and swept and mopped the floor throughout the house. He kept busy until nearly ten o'clock at night before leaving.
The old man continued sitting on the couch, watching TV and eating the fruit Mo Zhicheng had brought. His mind was filled with thoughts of his most neglected son, who was ironically the only one showing filial piety. He resolved to help his son by any means necessary.
「The next morning」
The old man got up at six, as usual, shaved, changed into clean clothes, and carefully combed his sparse hair. Then, with his small bag slung over his shoulder, he sat on the couch waiting to leave.
He muttered to himself, his gaze gradually becoming shaky, a touch of madness in his eyes, but the crazier it appeared, the more determined he became.
"I must help my son, I must help my son..."
When he heard other sounds from outside the door, the old man stood up, opened the front door, and instinctively locked it behind him with his key.
Above the staircase, two early-rising elderly ladies were getting ready to go shopping. The old man looked up and greeted them, as usual.
"Off to buy groceries?"
"Yes, Old Mo, are you going out for exercise again?"
"Indeed, I can't skip it. My son was just admonishing me yesterday, told me to walk more..."
While speaking, the old man locked the front door and secured the key.
As he walked down the stairs, he misstepped, twisting his ankle and falling forward. Instinctively reaching for the handrail, he clutched at air. His body tumbled down the stairs.
He rolled all the way to the next floor, lying on the ground with his neck twisted, eyes wide open, and the corners of his mouth twitching as if smiling—a look of gratified fulfillment on his face.
The two elderly ladies, descending the stairs, witnessed the old man's fall. Frozen in shock, one stood still while the other shouted for help.
"Somebody, come quick..."
「...」
Wen Yan stepped out of the preparation room and looked at the family of the deceased, whose eyes were red and swollen from crying. He rubbed his temples; his head was aching.
A moment ago, the family had made a fuss, insisting the work of the mortician wasn't up to par.
The deceased had already reached Titan View. Big Sister Ye from the Body Processing Department had worked diligently to restore the body to its former state in just over a day. He believed she must have used "magic," yet the family was still unsatisfied.
Feeling his blood pressure rise, he had to suppress the urge to exacerbate the conflict. He wanted to point out how their ignorance of their father's death for several days had made restoration so challenging.
Walking into the Cremation Department, he found solace in its tranquility, and Wen Yan's mood began to settle.
He was now most familiar with the cremation process. After officially working for a few days and encountering more families, he started to agree with Old Zhang's perspective.
After going through the initial procedures, by the time they reached the Cremation Department, there were far fewer complications. Everyone, from family members to management to clients, became more cooperative. The infamous intrigue, sarcasm, and difficult relatives were virtually non-existent here.
Clients wouldn't leap up to complain or record a video over minor discrepancies in the cremation process.
Wen Yan sat on a chair outside the cremation chamber for a while. When he heard the sound of firecrackers from the speakers in the distance, he stood up and went to the Body Processing Department, intending to seek advice from Big Sister Ye at the preparation room.
He had no expectations of learning her "magic," but at least he wanted to understand the process and what was achievable so he'd be well-informed. That way, if a family member of the deceased ever questioned him, he wouldn't be caught off guard.
As he arrived, he saw a funeral home owner standing at the entrance of the preparation room. Big Sister Ye was there too, dressed in goggles, a mask, a hat, and protective clothing.
"This elder is my old neighbor and also comes from the same village as me. He fell down the stairs, broke many bones in his body, and even broke his neck. I can only trouble you to handle things neatly and with dignity."
"Yes, rest assured," Big Sister Ye nodded, acknowledged with a sound, and then turned back to the preparation room, closing the door with a SNAP.
The owner of the funeral store didn't mind. Upon seeing Wen Yan arrive, he immediately took out a business card.
"Wen Sheng, I've heard about you these past few days. My name is Ah Gui. Here's my card; if you need anything, just give me a call."
Wen Yan accepted the card with a smile and responded.
Some funeral stores not only sell funeral items but also undertake funeral planning, handling all sorts of procedures from high-end to simple. This relieves customers of any worries; they just need to follow along, making it very convenient and stress-free.
The only catch is the cost.
And Wen Yan's colleagues were also happy to interact with these people, as it saved hassle for everyone.
Seeing that Wen Yan seemed to have no intention of engaging in small talk, Ah Gui quickly took his leave. Wen Yan turned to enter, looking into the preparation room from the adjacent room through the glass.
On the stainless-steel bed lay an old man, his neck twisted onto his shoulder. Although the skin on his neck was unbroken, the outline of the bones could still be seen. His body was stained with blood, with broken ribs piercing through the skin.
Big Sister Ye glanced at Wen Yan, waved at him, then pointed outside, indicating that Wen Yan should quickly leave as she needed to get to her real work.
Wen Yan quickly reviewed the employee manual in his mind. It seemed that staff were only prohibited from entering the preparation room at will while an operation was in progress. Watching wasn't forbidden; the glass was specifically there for observation. When a mortician first took on an apprentice, the apprentice wasn't qualified to enter and had to learn by watching from here.
Wen Yan waved his hand and turned to leave.
Once everyone was gone, Big Sister Ye in the preparation room, with a calm expression, reached out and held the old man's neck. With a movement of her hands, CRACK! She set it back into place. She then reattached the old man's ribs. It only took a few minutes, and the old man's form had largely returned to normal.
She flicked her finger lightly in the old man's throat. He opened his mouth, letting out a series of heavy gasps as a puff of white air sprayed out. She then reached out and gently wiped her hand over his eyes. The old man, who had died with his eyes open, now had them closed. His slightly contorted face settled into a peaceful expression.
Only then did she continue to take out various tools and begin to clean the old man's skin...
In a little over an hour, she had mostly restored the old man's body and appearance. The remaining steps would have to wait until the end, as redoing the makeup later if too much time passed would be more troublesome.
「When it was time to leave work」
People from the office began to depart one after another. Only Old Zhang from the Cremation Department and the security guard at the main entrance remained.
The entire Funeral Home grew very quiet, devoid of the city's noise and lights; even the chirping of insects and birds had disappeared.
The surrounding mountains gradually transformed into massive shadows, like several giants encircling and looking down upon the Funeral Home.
「At 11 p.m.」
In the small office next to the Cremation Department, Old Zhang, who was on night duty today, was drinking some alcohol and eating fried peanuts.
He checked the time, lit the alcohol in his cup, downed it in one gulp, then took a flashlight and went out to patrol the middle and back yards, except for the front office building.
After a round of inspection without any issues, he returned to his small office, turned on his mobile phone, and started to drink and scroll through videos.
「At one o'clock」
From a row of VIP single rooms in the middle courtyard, a slight creaking noise, CREAK... CREAK..., could be heard. The latch on the lid of an ice coffin was trembling gently. Wisps of cold air rose, condensing into water droplets. With the added lubrication, the movement of the latch grew more pronounced.
Soon after, the handle lifted, and the ice coffin's lid slowly opened. The old man inside began to move his stiff body, inch by inch, crawling out.
Dressed in a deep blue burial suit, his eyelids barely opened, he stood on the ground, rigid. He pushed open the glass door outside the VIP room and stepped out.
With faltering steps and a stiff figure, he moved slowly toward the backyard. The ribs in his chest, which had just been set, had broken apart again. As time passed, blood gradually seeped out.
In the Funeral Home's gatehouse, the security guard, as usual, sat in front of the surveillance monitors, watching dramas on his tablet.
As he watched, he caught something moving out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw a stiff figure slowly moving on the monitor.