Corpse Retriever

”All right.” Xue Liangliang paid the bill, then shoved all the leftover cash into Li Zhuiyuan’s pocket, patting it as he said, ”This is your pocket money from your big bro.”

”Thanks, big bro.”

When they walked Xue Liangliang back to his hospital room, they saw Uncle Qin already waiting on a bench in the corridor. After saying goodbye, Li Zhuiyuan left the hospital with him.

”Go ahead and sleep. I’ll carry you.”

”Okay, Uncle.”

Uncle Qin hoisted Li Zhuiyuan onto his back. Exhausted and sleepy, he quickly dozed off.

It wasn’t clear how much time passed—he only felt his body swaying slightly and heard car horns in the distance.

Li Zhuiyuan’s first thought was: Did Uncle Qin use the paper Santana trick again?

He opened his eyes excitedly—only to feel disappointed.

The bus was packed with people. This was just the intercity coach to Shigang Town.So it wasn’t a trick—just a regular ticket.

He wanted to ask Uncle Qin more about last night’s paper car, but he held back. The closer they got to home, the more things became unspoken.

But he remembered Uncle Qin saying last night that ”she” carried them.

So the paper Santana was just a dreamlike conduit, a kind of hypnotism. In reality, it was one of the Bai Family Matrons who physically carried him and Uncle Qin from Siyuan Village into the city?

Looked at that way, it wasn’t so strange. It was basically a rehash of Runsheng’s method.

”Don’t want to nap a little more?”

”No, Uncle. Weirdly enough, this little nap feels like it really hit the spot.”

”There was roadwork and traffic. It’s already 4 p.m.”

”Oh, no wonder.”

The bus stopped. Li Zhuiyuan and Uncle Qin got off and walked along the village road.

”Xiaoyuan, let me ask you something.”

”Go ahead, Uncle.”

”What do you think of your friend’s choice?”

”He didn’t know what was going on out here, so his decision makes sense. Understandable, really.”

”That’s not what I meant. I mean—if it were you, would you marry into someone else’s family?”

Li Zhuiyuan stopped walking. He looked toward Great-Grandpa’s house in the distance, then turned to face Uncle Qin.

Instead of answering, he asked, ”Uncle, are you leaving?”

Qin Li looked genuinely surprised. ”Why would you say that?”

”Just a feeling.”

Qin Li smiled and dropped the question, falling silent as the two of them walked home.

Qin Li stepped back from the doorway, letting Qin Li walk up holding a small box of chess pieces.

Li Zhuiyuan glanced over at Liu Yumei, who was sipping tea in the courtyard. Uncle Qin stood behind her, speaking softly.

Only when she nodded did Uncle Qin follow Aunt Liu into the west wing.

”Xiaoyuan, your great-grandpa and Runsheng went out,” Liu Yumei said.

”Grandma Liu, did they get a job?”

”Not quite. We just got paid for two big paper effigy orders. With cash in hand, your great-grandpa had Runsheng take him to Shigang Town to buy a TV.”

Li Zhuiyuan could only sigh inwardly. Great-grandpa really never saved a penny—whatever was in his pocket, he spent.

Still, he didn’t care much about the TV.

He had already finished Comprehensive Treatise on Yin-Yang Physiognomy and Theory of Fate Structure and Projection. Though he hadn’t fully digested them—or rather, didn’t dare to just yet—he could set them aside for now.

Next, he needed to go to the basement to find more books.

Even though Great-grandpa’s teachings about laying a solid foundation still echoed in his ears, he just couldn’t hold back anymore.

He didn’t want to be useless the next time something happened.

Sure, that kind of ambition might be rash and should probably be discouraged, but... he was still a kid, after all. He couldn’t always be so mature and rational—this was his way of managing the ”condition.”

Li Zhuiyuan assembled a flashlight and headed down to the basement—this time, with Ah Li in tow.

”Ah Li, come help me pick a box.”

This time, he wasn’t fixated on clearing out the first box.

Ah Li walked over to the middle one.

”This one?”

Li Zhuiyuan had her hold the flashlight while he pried open the lid.

”Ah Li, shine the light here.”

He started rummaging through the books. This box was filled with massive multi-volume sets, much like Strange Tales of the Rivers and Lakes. Each set had at least 20 volumes and was meticulously arranged.

But they were mostly beginner’s guides and theory texts. A lot were about health cultivation.

He even spotted a copy of Dual Cultivation of the Supreme Mystery.

He flipped through it. Diagrams and instructions—plenty of poses and techniques.

Before Ah Li could lean in out of habit to read with him, Li Zhuiyuan quickly shut the book.

He frowned. These weren’t what he was looking for. Useful someday, sure—but right now, totally impractical.

He leaned into the box, aiming to dig out two sets buried at the bottom. After quite the effort and sweat, he finally pulled them free.

If these were just more health manuals, he’d write off the whole box forever.

But as soon as he saw the cover, his eyes lit up.

Chronicle of the Orthodox Demon-Suppressing Arts, Part I!

Sure, the title sounded like something out of a cheesy Hong Kong martial arts flick, but it was miles better than another health guide—and packed with promise.

Wait, why just ”Part I”?

He looked at the other set he pulled—Chronicle of the Orthodox Demon-Suppressing Arts, Part II.

So these two massive sets—over a hundred volumes combined—were actually one complete work? Why split them up?

They were all handwritten, not published volumes—there was no need to hold off like waiting for a sequel after good sales.

He took the first volume from each part and skimmed through. Both were rich with illustrations and explanations, detailing types of Dead Sinkers and how to deal with them.

But something felt familiar...

He flipped to the last page of Part II’s final volume.

Sure enough, at the very end:

“——Written by Wei Zhengdao.”

Seeing that name, Li Zhuiyuan felt an instant sense of kinship.

Strange Tales of the Rivers and Lakes had been his entry point. He never expected that Wei Zhengdao had authored a follow-up.

If that book laid out the definitions, then these were the formulas.

Li Zhuiyuan loved that kind of structure and precision.

Looking at the remaining dozen boxes, he couldn’t help but wonder—were there even more books by Wei Zhengdao in here?

A wild thought took hold: If this man had written a full curriculum, starting with beginner guides and climbing ever higher... then maybe, just maybe, those endings in Strange Tales of the Rivers and Lakes, where each Dead Sinker was “eliminated by Zhengdao,” weren’t just for literary flair.

Maybe they really were—eliminated by Wei Zhengdao.

He used to think it was just a fun conceit. After all, how could one man travel that far, face that many Dead Sinkers, and defeat them all?

But after witnessing Uncle Qin’s methods last night, he realized... maybe it wasn’t impossible?

Just like how Great-grandpa never believed he’d actually gone to college—people are prone to projecting their own limits onto unfamiliar fields.

“If I finish all your books, does that make you my teacher?”

And if he kept a journal, how would he sign off?

“Dead Sinker—eliminated by the heir of Zhengdao”?

…

Liu Yumei was nibbling on pastries and sipping tea when she saw Li Zhuiyuan climb the stairs with a stack of books, Ah Li close behind carrying her own pile.

The two kids hauled the books into the bedroom upstairs, then rushed back down and repeated the cycle from the basement, trip after trip.

Liu Yumei shook her head with a helpless smile. Her precious granddaughter, raised so tenderly since birth.

Still, this was good. As long as she wasn’t just sitting blankly at the doorway, she didn’t care if the boy took her farming with a hoe.

After moving the books, Li Zhuiyuan dampened a towel to wipe down Ah Li’s face and hands, then dried his own sweat.

Next, he took out three cans of Jianlibao, popped one open for Ah Li and saved another.

They sat on the balcony, sipping their drinks as the evening breeze blew.

Strands of the girl’s hair danced in the wind, brushing against his cheek—ticklish.

Every now and then, the boy turned his head to glance at her profile. She sat on the west side, framed in the warm, orange light of the setting sun.

“We’re back!”

Runsheng pushed the cart, Great-grandpa sitting atop it with a yellow cardboard box in his lap.

”Xiaoyuanhou, Great-grandpa got you your TV!”

”Coming, Great-grandpa.”

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