Corpse Retriever

But earlier, when he had first entered the building, he hadn’t felt like this.

Xue Liangliang took a deep breath—of air that didn’t exist—and then forced himself forward, charging toward the doorway. The suffocating pressure surged back with renewed strength. Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the agony and stumbled outside.

Looking around, he saw no trace of the woman. She had truly vanished. She wasn’t there anymore.

At the same time, he noticed that the main gates of the ancestral hall—the ones he had come through—had silently closed.

This was his limit. He didn’t even have the strength to make it out to the courtyard.

All he could do was stagger back inside. His legs wobbled, and he collapsed to the ground like a shrimp being wrung dry of its fluids.

At last, he crawled back beside the coffin. The suffocating sensation lifted, and he could breathe again. It felt like salvation.

But when he raised his head and looked at the underside of the coffin lid above him, doubt crept into his mind: Was this really salvation?

After catching his breath, he got to his feet and began edging cautiously to the side.

To his horror, he discovered that the suffocation returned as soon as he moved away from the coffin—and it came on even stronger than before.But earlier, he’d been able to walk along the wall, even run his hands along the bricks.

That meant his range of movement had shrunk again.

When he reached the head of the coffin, his vision blurred. He thought he saw someone sitting in the Grand Master’s Chair facing the coffin.

But when he looked again, there was no one there.

No—this wasn’t his eyes playing tricks on him. Somewhere else, maybe. But not here!

Xue Liangliang circled the coffin once more, then darted back to the head.

This time, he saw it clearly. There really was someone in the chair—and that person was himself!

Xue Liangliang clenched his fists. He felt like he was going mad. He couldn’t understand it. Why would someone who looked exactly like him be sitting there?

If that person was Xue Liangliang, then who was he?

He touched his own face. The sensation was just like always. Reassured that he was still himself, he looked back up—only to find the chair empty once more.

He could probably run another lap around the coffin and see the figure again. But he didn’t have the courage to try.

And now, he couldn’t try even if he wanted to.

The suffocating pressure had returned—even though one of his hands was still resting on the coffin.

It was closing in. It was like he was trapped in an invisible underwater bubble. Before, the bubble had been moving. Now, it was shrinking.

Once it collapsed, there would be no space left to breathe.

Xue Liangliang pressed himself tightly against the coffin, realizing the closer his face got, the weaker the pressure became.

But it wasn’t enough. The suffocation kept intensifying.

No. No, this can’t go on...

Xue Liangliang planted his feet on the base and grabbed the coffin’s edge, hoisting himself up.

Once he was on top, the pressure vanished. He had escaped again, for now.

But when he looked down, his body froze. His mouth dropped open. His arms gave out, and he fell.

Inside the coffin was a person.

A woman, dressed in red. A red veil covered her face. Her hands rested over her abdomen.

The pain from the fall was nothing compared to the crushing pressure that engulfed him again.

Before, he could still run outside to look for the woman. Now, stepping even slightly beyond the safe zone felt impossible.

Whereas before it was just suffocation, now it felt like a pair of monstrous invisible hands were squeezing his throat.

It wasn’t just the lack of air anymore. It was the agonizing sensation of his neck being twisted and crushed.

Xue Liangliang scrambled up, stepping back onto the support beams, grabbing the coffin edge to pull himself up.

The excruciating pain pushed him past his fear—he just wanted that fleeting comfort again.

Even though he knew it wouldn’t last.

He avoided looking at the woman in the coffin. Instead, he shifted his gaze and looked forward—toward the Grand Master’s Chair.

And there he was again—his own figure, sitting in the chair.

But this time, the figure wasn’t dressed like him.

He wore a black, lustrous robe, purple trousers, a ceremonial hat, and a red flower on his chest.

It looked like... a traditional groom’s outfit.

And the face—it was identical to his own.

Xue Liangliang’s fear overflowed. Tears welled up.

At that moment, the version of himself on the chair was more terrifying than the woman in the coffin.

So, he looked down at her instead.

When he’d entered town earlier, every woman behind a door had been seated. This woman, though—she lay flat. Right in the core, the very center of the ancestral hall.

Then, the suffocating pressure crept back in.

Xue Liangliang felt like an animal being driven forward with a whip.

Though he had already guessed the truth, he still craned his neck in every direction to test where the pressure weakened.

In the end, he confirmed it: only inside the coffin was safe.

His hands clutched the coffin edge as he wavered in a final struggle.

But the relentless, tightening pressure gave him no time.

He forced strength into his waist, swung one leg over the coffin edge, and lowered his hands inside to grip the inner wall.

He had meant to slide in only his upper body, to keep some distance from the woman.

But he had overestimated his strength. Just as he made it over the edge, his balance failed—and he fell in completely.

He landed on top of her. Her body was cold and slick.

But not slick like water or oil. More like... a jellyfish, or something secreting mucus. A repulsive, almost biological slime that set his skin crawling.

And just then—

Xue Liangliang saw, in horror, the woman slowly begin to raise her head.

As she moved—

The red veil slid from her face.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

On the Bai Family Town archway, the white lanterns abruptly turned red.

Starting there, all the candles in the niches by each home’s entrance throughout the town flared red as well—casting a festively eerie glow.

Creak...

Creak...

The once-shut doors of every home slowly pushed open from within.

And the women who had been sitting behind them stood up.

One by one—

Women of all ages, dressed from different eras, stepped out of their homes and onto the stone path.

They emerged from every corner of the town and lined up, moving at the same steady pace.

Their destination: the ancestral hall at the town’s center.

Their eyes stayed shut. Their mouths didn’t move. But a whispering sound began to fill the air.

At first faint and scattered, the murmuring grew louder—more unified.

Until at last, it formed a single, chilling chant that echoed across Bai Family Town:

“Heavenly Official bestows blessings, the Bai Family welcomes a groom!”

…

“Hello, this is Li Zhuiyuan.”

“Hello. Do you know Xue Liangliang?”

“Yes.”

“I thought I recognized your voice. I’m Luo, have we met before?”

“Are you Director Luo? I was the kid with Brother Liangliang yesterday.”

“Oh, so it’s you.”

“Director Luo, what happened?”

“It’s about Liangliang. He had an accident. He kept saying ‘Little Yuan’ in his sleep—and he gave this phone number.”

“What happened to Brother Liangliang?”

“He fell overboard on a boat. He’s in the hospital now—his condition is very serious.”

“Can I go see him?”

“Yes. I’ll send a car for you right away. Give me your location.”

“Shijia Bridge, Shinan Town. We’ll be waiting there.”

“Got it.”