Corpse Retriever

The thug lay on the ground, clutching his ankle and screaming.

Li Zhuiyuan picked up the Homecoming Net and threw it over him.

Another thug was tackled to the ground by Runsheng, who raised his fist and brought it crashing down on the man’s face. In an instant, it was as if a dye shop had overturned—colors spilled everywhere.

“Runsheng-ge!” Li Zhuiyuan shouted.

Runsheng suddenly shuddered. The second punch, poised mid-air, was forcibly restrained. His face slowly changed from frenzied excitement to a simple, blank expression.

Li Zhuiyuan breathed a sigh of relief. Had that second punch landed, the thug would’ve died for sure.

It wasn’t out of pity, nor was it even the fear of killing someone. Deep down, he just didn’t want the trouble that would follow if someone died.

“Here, Runsheng-ge.”

Li Zhuiyuan tossed him the black canvas. Inside its lining were wooden spirals, each carved with patterns by Ah Li.

The point of today’s outing was to test these tools, to see which ones worked and which didn’t.Runsheng laid the black canvas over the thug. Instantly, the man howled and struggled, and even a thin curl of white smoke rose.

Within the smoke, Zhao Xing’s face briefly appeared—then vanished. The thug ceased struggling.

Runsheng lifted the canvas, checked the man’s breath, and said, “Xiaoyuan, still alive.”

Li Zhuiyuan nodded. The black canvas worked surprisingly well, though that could be thanks to the Dead Sinker having already tormented these two thugs for quite a while.

Then he looked at the other thug, now wrapped up in the net. From his chest, Li Zhuiyuan pulled out a sheaf of talisman papers he had drawn himself.

He wasn’t giving up.

The other tools were made strictly by-the-book from the texts. Only these talismans bore a trace of his own originality.

He pressed one to the thug’s forehead. It blackened quickly and fell off.

He tried another. Same result—blackened, slid off.

The third, fourth, fifth… until he used up the entire stack.

All turned black. Not even a wisp of white smoke from the thug’s body.

Li Zhuiyuan fell silent.

The fact that they blackened proved some effect, but if that was all, they were worthless.

That crushing sense of failure, like a failing student, hit him again.

“Runsheng-ge, the canvas.”

“Got it.”

The black canvas was thrown over. Li Zhuiyuan caught it and draped it over the thug.

White smoke billowed up, vaguely forming Brother Bao’s desperate face before dissipating.

Lifting the canvas, Li Zhuiyuan saw it had burned a hole in the center. Many of the wooden spirals were charred black—only a third remained unscathed.

That meant this tool would need to be remade.

He walked over to the gravestone. A black copper coin lay there.

“Runsheng-ge, dig a hole over here.”

“Understood.”

Li Zhuiyuan studied the coin while Runsheng started digging.

After a while, Li Zhuiyuan glanced over and saw Runsheng had dug a hole big enough to bury several people.

“Runsheng-ge, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Runsheng scratched his head and pointed to the two unconscious thugs. “Aren’t we burying them?”

“No, just the coin.”

“Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t touch it with your hands. Use the shovel.” Li Zhuiyuan reminded him while slathering red ink paste onto the Yellow River Shovel.

Runsheng used the shovel to lift the coin carefully into the hole.

“Runsheng-ge, patch up that earthen wall. You nearly dug up someone’s urn.”

“Right.”

This was a graveyard, and Runsheng had dug so deep, part of a cremation urn was showing.

Once the wall was fixed and the hole backfilled, Li Zhuiyuan used a few stones to mark the spot, then bowed in the direction of the urn:

“Apologies for the disturbance. Please look after that coin for me. When I return to collect it, I’ll burn offerings for you.”

Until he figured out what the coin did and how dangerous it was, he wouldn’t take it, or even touch it.

He glanced down to check the Yellow River Shovel—was shocked to see the area once smeared with red had turned white.

It could darken or stain during digging, sure. But turning white? That could only mean the coin was truly evil.

“Runsheng-ge, let’s go.”

“Heading home?”

“To the police station.”

“What for?”

“To fulfill a promise.”

…

Tan Yunlong had just finished a meeting with the city task force and was yawning on his way back to his office when he opened the door and saw the boy already sitting inside.

Tan Yunlong poured tea from the thermos and placed the cup in front of Li Zhuiyuan.

He didn’t think there was anything strange about the gesture. His next question was:

“Where are the bones?”

“Um…” Li Zhuiyuan made a troubled face. “Uncle Tan, you skipped quite a few steps.”

“Last time you came to my office, you told me where the bones were. Now here you are again.”

“They’re at the cemetery between West Suburb Village and East Suburb Village. Two men are unconscious nearby.”

“Accomplices who were moving the bones?”

“That’s for you officers to investigate.”

“Thank you, Xiaoyuan. This time, you really helped from beginning to end.”

“My great-grandfather always taught me to remember the deep ties between police and the people.”

“Xiaoyuan, where’s your household registration?”

“Uncle Tan, don’t scare the kids.”

“Just asking, out of concern. My son’s a few years older than you.”

“Then you and your son must not get along too well.”

Tan Yunlong choked on that. It was true—his son only smiled at him when he brought food or toys.

“Uncle Tan, is the case going well?”

“Progress is fast. Once the bones are confirmed, the case can be closed.”

“That’s great.”

Li Zhuiyuan took a sip of tea. It was hot—he just moistened his lips and set the cup down.

“Uncle Tan, I’ll head home. You’re busy.”

“I’ll have someone drive you.”

“No need, my driver’s outside.”

Once the boy left, Tan Yunlong seemed to remember something. In the hallway, he stopped someone.

“Xiao Zhang, has Old Li left yet?”

“Just did, Captain Tan. Want me to call him back?”

“No need. Oh, and get a team together. We’re going out to pick up some bones.”

“Bones? Dinner plans tonight?”

…

Several empty cars were parked at the police station gate, causing a traffic jam.

Li Zhuiyuan stood before the “Shigang Town Police Station” sign and hugged it.

He had a feeling: the reason the Dead Sinker dissipated so quickly this time, eliminating future threats in one stroke, had much to do with this sign.

At that moment, the cars were cleared out.

Looking across the gate, Li Zhuiyuan saw an old man hugging another sign.

Their eyes met. Both let go quietly.

“Aiya, just had to hug it,” said Li Sanjiang, brushing dust off himself. “Xiaoyuan, why haven’t you gone home yet?”

“I came to pick you up, Great-Grandpa.”

“Oh, alright. Let’s go home.”

…

Back home, Li Zhuiyuan went upstairs to shower. Runsheng used the well in the courtyard, dousing himself with cold water.

Liu Yumei, sipping tea, shook her head and sighed.

After bathing, Li Zhuiyuan came down to wait for dinner.

“Xiaoyuan, come here a moment with Grandma.”

He got up, and Ah Li followed along too.

To his surprise, instead of leading him to the ancestral tablets, Grandma Liu took them into her and Ah Li’s bedroom.

Inside, the meaning became clear.

Half the bed was neatly lined with JIANLIBAO bottles, all perfectly spaced.

Liu Yumei had no choice—since she and Ah Li shared a bed, now she’d be sleeping on the floor.

“Grandma Liu, do you have any empty boxes?”

“Yes, over here.”

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