What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

"Brother! Something terrible has happened! You must go and see!"

As soon as Erhu entered the room, his dark face was filled with terror, sweat streamed down his temples, and he was evenly panting.

He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me out, his grip as strong as a bull's.

"Hey, Erhu, slow down, slow down."

I gently brushed his hand away, and with a skillful flick of my wrist, I pressed him down onto the armchair in the main room.

"What happened? Tell me in detail."

Seeing Erhu panting heavily, I took the teacup and poured him a glass of cool boiled water.

Erhu took the cool boiled water, tilted his head back, and gulped it down. He let out a long sigh: "Brother Chen... Brother Chen Yang! Someone...someone has died!"

Upon hearing this, I frowned: "Who is it?"

Erhu put down his teacup and sighed deeply: "It was Zhao Dong from the village! I don't know what possessed him last night, he insisted on going into the mountains to collect traps, and... and he was just found at the foot of Eagle's Beak Cliff!"

My hand, which was pouring tea, paused. Zhao Dong? A young, honest face flashed through my mind.

Zhao Dong wasn't much older than me. He was an honest man, but he was very popular. Because he liked to go into the mountains from time to time to set traps to catch rabbits, the people in the village jokingly called him "Hunter Zhao".

He wasn't bothered by the jokes from the villagers, and would even occasionally send some wild game he had hunted in the mountains to the elderly living alone in the village.

He is an extremely honest and straightforward person.

"He...died from the fall?" I asked.

"Yes!" Erhu swallowed hard, a chill running down his spine. "Eagle Beak Cliff is so high, and below it is just a jumble of rocks. When they found them... I just went to see them, and they looked absolutely terrifying!"

At this point, Erhu glanced at me furtively, his tone becoming earnest: "Old Duan Gong said that dying without a complete body is a great taboo. If you bury it like this, it will become a vengeful ghost that haunts the house, and you won't be able to be reincarnated in your next life."

Besides, Zhao Lie... Zhao Dong is such an honest person, everyone really can't bear to bury him like this!

The old master said, "This craft used to be your grandfather's specialty. Now that he's gone, and you happen to be in this line of work, brother, you're the true heir of the Chen family. We can only ask you for help!"

After listening to Erhu's description, I nodded slightly, without showing any disgust or fear on my face.

To an ordinary person, it's a pile of rotten flesh; but to the corpse stitcher, it's just a "clothes" that needs repair.

The tradition of mortuary burial emphasizes "respect for the dead and peace in the burial ground."

Regardless of one's life circumstances, one should die with dignity and respect.

If the body is mutilated and the resentment is difficult to dispel, it will not only cause unrest in the household, but also be a great disrespect to the deceased.

"Zhao Dong was an honest man; he often brought wild game to the village before he died."

I said softly, stood up, walked to the altar by the wall, and lit an incense stick for my grandfather's memorial tablet.

"I'll take this job."

Turning around, I looked at Erhu and said, "Go and tell them to have the body carried to the front door first, but don't bring it inside."

Please note that a shelter should be set up to prevent the body from being exposed to direct sunlight.

Prepare two basins of well water, a jar of liquor, and... prepare a large rooster, one with a bright red comb.

"Okay! Okay! I'll go right now!" Erhu nodded repeatedly when he saw that I had agreed, put down his teacup and ran out.

After seeing Erhu off, I turned around and went into the inner room, to my grandfather's room.

I never expected this to happen on my trip back home. Although I brought needles and thread with me, all my other tools were left in Jiangcheng.

However, there should still be a set of tools in Grandpa's room.

I pulled out the black wooden box that had been with my grandfather all his life from under his bed.

Upon opening the box, a faint sandalwood scent wafted out.

Inside, various tools were neatly arranged: silver needles of different sizes, specially made mulberry bark thread, sheep gut thread, black gold thread, as well as scissors, tweezers, and some bottles and jars of preservatives and spices.

I reached out and touched the cold tools, feeling a familiar sensation on my fingertips.

After confirming that everything inside was correct, I picked up the suitcase and left the house.

Last night it was a killing technique; today it's a life-saving grace.

This is the duty of a corpse stitcher.

Zhao Dong's home is at the westernmost end of the village, right next to the entrance of the mountain.

Before I even got close, I heard a series of cries coming from not far away.

The entrance was already crowded with villagers who were watching the spectacle. They craned their necks to look inside, but dared not get too close, and whispers rippled through the air.

"He's here! Prince Chen Yang is here!"

After Erhu spotted me, he shouted, and the crowd immediately parted like a tide, making way for me.

I nodded to Erhu, carried the wooden box on my back, and walked through the crowd.

As I instructed, a makeshift mourning tent had already been erected in front of the Zhao family's house using a few bamboo poles and blue and white striped plastic sheeting.

Upon entering the mourning hall, I looked up and saw a door panel placed on two long benches in the center, covered with a straw mat.

Beside the door, a middle-aged woman sat slumped in the mud, her hair disheveled, her voice hoarse from crying, clutching a muddy cloth shoe tightly in her arms.

Several of her relatives were trying to pull her up, but they couldn't manage it.

"Auntie, please accept my condolences."

I walked up to the woman, knelt down, and gently offered a word of comfort.

But she seemed lost in thought, as if she hadn't heard a sound, only crying incessantly, "My son... my son..."

"Ugh!"

Just then, I heard a sigh.

I stood up and saw that it was Old Duan Gong.

He leaned on his cane, his voice trembling, "Yangzi, you've finally come. This is truly...a tragedy! Enough of the chit-chat, Dongzi...he's lying up there. Go and see him; you must let him leave this world with dignity!"

I nodded: "Don't worry, Ancestor. Now that I've taken on this job, I'll make sure Dong-ge is on his way in a clean and tidy manner."

Upon hearing this, the old master sighed again, said nothing more, and simply patted my shoulder.

"Erhu!" I called out after I got up.

"Brother Yang, I'm here!" Erhu stepped through the crowd and came to my side.

"Erhu, take a few men and surround the shed tightly. Except for immediate family members, everyone else should retreat to a distance of ten zhang (approximately 33 meters) to prevent the yang energy from affecting the corpse," I instructed Erhu.

Sewing corpses is a yin-related activity, which cannot be exposed to light or be disturbed.

I asked Erhu to disperse the crowd of onlookers, not only to keep me focused while I was sewing the corpse, but also to preserve some dignity for my family.

"Alright! Scatter! Scatter! Listen to Brother Chen Yang!" After hearing my instructions, Erhu immediately started shouting to shoo people away.

Once all the unrelated people had left, the mourning hall fell silent, with only suppressed sobs remaining.

I walked to the door and reached out to lift the straw mat.