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

He is waiting.

Wait for that "soul-guiding thread" to transmit the last trace of life force back.

Unfortunately, he was destined not to live to see it.

I turned around, covered the body again with the white sheet, then walked to the door and pushed it open.

Director Wang immediately came up to him: "How did it go, Xiao Chen? All done?"

I nodded, my tone calm: "It's sewn up, but the girl left unwillingly, full of resentment."

Director Wang, please tell the family that the body should not be moved or cremated within the next seven days.

It would be best to hire a respectable Taoist priest or Buddhist monk to chant scriptures for her for a few days to dispel the lingering negative energy.

Director Wang was taken aback for a moment, then understood and replied repeatedly, "Understood, understood. I'll go tell the man right away."

I watched as Director Wang walked toward that man.

Upon hearing Director Wang's words, the man's body stiffened abruptly, and he then raised his head.

Through the glass window, our eyes met.

A hint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes, though he quickly concealed it, I still caught it.

He stared at me for a few seconds, then lowered his head, thanked Director Wang obsequiously, and followed Director Wang to the payment counter.

I watched his retreating figure with a cold eye.

Sure enough, there was something wrong with this man.

I just said those things to Director Wang specifically to see how this man would react.

As I expected, the result was as predicted.

This matter is probably not over yet.

I took off my mask, walked to the sink, and carefully washed my hands.

The cool water washed through my fingers, carrying away the remaining cinnabar and the smell of blood.

After washing my hands, I returned to the lounge.

Old Zhang has already brewed me a strong cup of tea.

"Finished? Here, have a hot drink."

Old Zhang chuckled, "Young Chen, your skills are truly exceptional. Director Wang was just praising you to me, saying you're the pillar of our institution."

I took the teacup, took a sip, and the bitter taste spread across my tongue.

"Old Zhang, stop teasing me. We're all just trying to make a living."

I leaned back in my chair and looked out at the gloomy sky.

On the first day back to work after the holiday, this happened. It seems this year is destined to be anything but peaceful.

But it's alright.

If you live a mundane life for too long, even your bones will rust.

I closed my eyes and began to review the stitching process in my mind.

Every stitch is a learning experience.

The material of that "soul-guiding thread," the way the evil energy operated, and the aura emanating from that man...

I silently memorized them all.

If he knows what's good for him and leaves the place without ever coming back, then the matter will be over, and I won't bother to pursue it further.

When I met the girl's family afterward, I would only subtly suggest that they perform a Buddhist ritual to help her pass on to the afterlife, so that she might have a chance to reincarnate.

If the family members don't listen, there's nothing I can do; this is the limit of what I can do.

But if he thinks I, a mere mortician, am easy to bully, and wants to come back and get his revenge...

Then I wouldn't mind letting him know that the stitcher's needle can stitch not only the dead, but also the living.

The steam rising from the teacup blurred my vision.

At that moment, my phone vibrated.

When I took it out, I saw it was a WeChat message from Li Qing.

"Chen Yang, Lao Jin and I found a fun place in the suburbs. They say there's a Yin-Yang Well, and at night you can hear people playing mahjong at the bottom of the well."

Are you interested? Want me to show you something new?

I only replied with two words: "Get lost."

This guy really can't stand not causing trouble for a day.

I put my phone away and closed my eyes to rest.

The funeral home was quiet in the afternoon.

……

At three o'clock in the afternoon, the man returned.

He didn't go straight into the hall, but stood under the shade of a tree at the entrance of the funeral home, lit a cigarette, and glanced at the cosmetology room from time to time.

I stood behind the curtains in the second-floor lounge, quietly watching him.

Although his movements were concealed, they were completely exposed to my enhanced senses.

I saw him take out a small notebook from his pocket, write and draw on it, and then take out a cell phone and make a call.

"...Something unexpected happened."

My ears twitched slightly as I caught his hushed voice.

"The mortician here is a tough one; he broke the thread... Yes, he hasn't been cremated yet... I understand, I'll come back tonight."

After hanging up the phone, the man took one last look at the funeral home, turned around, and disappeared at the end of the street.

I looked away, a cold glint in my eyes.

Come again tonight?

Ok.

I hadn't moved around much during the Lunar New Year holiday, so my hands and feet were a bit rusty.

I put down my teacup, turned around, and said to Old Zhang, who was dozing off, "Old Zhang, I'll be on duty tonight. You should go home and spend some time with your family."

Old Zhang groggily looked up: "Huh? Xiao Chen, you just got back and you're already on duty? Are you managing?"

"It's nothing," I smiled gently.

"Young people don't get enough sleep."

Old Zhang didn't think much of it, and happily packed his things and left.

After Lao Zhang left, I didn't do anything extra and continued to rest with my eyes closed in the lounge.

Soon, it was late at night.

Occasionally, the calls of wild cats in heat could be heard from outside the wall, sounding as shrill as a baby's cry.

By this time, I had moved from the lounge to another spot and was sitting in an inconspicuous corner of the cosmetic surgery room, twirling two walnuts in my hands.

That was left by Old Zhang; he said it could improve blood circulation and remove blood stasis.

When I have nothing to do, I also play with it.

I didn't turn on the light.

Only the faulty motion-activated light in the hallway flickered every now and then, casting a pale white light through the crack in the door, leaving streaks of light and shadow on the floor.

The refrigerator compressor emits a low, rhythmic hum.

The woman's body, whose life had been taken, lay quietly in freezer number 3.

Time passed by, bit by bit.

The clock on the wall pointed to 11:15.

Suddenly, the iron gate at the end of the corridor creaked softly.

The sound was very soft; an ordinary person would probably think it was the wind.

But I heard a very faint sound of footsteps.

The way of walking, where the heels don't touch the ground and the toes touch the ground, is a typical "thief's walk".

coming.

I stopped turning the walnuts, and my breathing instantly became long and shallow, as if I had merged with the surrounding darkness.

The footsteps stopped at the door of the cosmetic surgery room.

There was no knocking, nor any sound of picking the lock.

I saw a wisp of black smoke suddenly emerge from the latch of the door lock, followed by a "click" as the latch automatically retracted.

The door was pushed open a crack.

The man in the black hoodie slipped in sideways.

He was wearing a mask, holding a dark red pair of scissors in his hand, and his eyes quickly scanned the dimly lit room.

After confirming that no one was there, he breathed a sigh of relief and gently closed the door behind him.

"Damn, that scared the hell out of me."

He muttered a curse under his breath, his voice trembling slightly.

Clearly, he wasn't very skilled at this kind of corpse-stealing business.

He walked straight to the mortuary, only to find it empty.