Corpse Retriever

Li Zhuiyuan took out the two sets of books. They were crude copies, lacking any dust jackets.

The Liu Clan’s Art of Observing Qi had three volumes, all fairly thick; the Qin Family’s Guide to Viewing Flood Dragons consisted of four volumes, also quite hefty, and notably, they weren’t divided by scrolls.

“Could they have been left here by Granny Liu?”

Li Zhuiyuan quickly shook his head. That didn’t add up. Great-Grandpa had once said the books in the basement had been stored there by someone else for many years. Meanwhile, the Liu family hadn’t been staying with Great-Grandpa that long.

Even less likely was the idea that Liu Yumei had sneaked her family’s secret manuals into Great-Grandpa’s basement knowing there were already books there.

First, Liu Yumei had no reason to do so. Second, the dust coating the books silently testified to their long-forgotten state.

Li Zhuiyuan opened the first volume of Liu Clan’s Art of Observing Qi and immediately frowned. The handwriting was a mess.

It wasn’t cursive or linked script—more like someone under intense time pressure had scribbled hastily, lacking any calligraphic training. It was plain ugly, like ghostly scrawls.

Many characters were so indecipherable that Li Zhuiyuan had to rely on context to guess their meaning.

He flipped through a dozen pages in quick succession. Every page was different in formatting; chapter titles and section headers weren’t even consistently placed, often interwoven within the body text.In his mind, Li Zhuiyuan pictured someone with a fine edition of a book in one hand, frantically copying it into a blank notebook with the other, eyes darting nervously as if afraid of being caught.

This had to be a pirated copy.

He turned to the Qin Family’s Guide to Viewing Flood Dragons and skimmed through it—it was clearly from the same source. Another bootleg.

That all but confirmed it. These books had nothing to do with Liu Yumei.

Li Zhuiyuan remembered Liu Yumei once telling him she knew what kinds of books he was reading, but judging from her tone, she seemed to believe they were just generic mystical texts—she had no idea he was studying rare hand-copied originals.

Moreover, Liu Yumei had probably never entered the basement. Neither she nor Uncle Qin or Aunt Liu were the type to intrude on Great-Grandpa’s private affairs.

Had Liu Yumei ever seen these boxes, she’d never have left these two sets of books behind. They were stolen family secrets—serious taboos.

“Well, I’ll just take these two sets then.”

Even he wasn’t sure if it was the content that intrigued him, or simply curiosity about the Liu and Qin families.

Closing the box again, Li Zhuiyuan carried the books upstairs to the second floor, laid them on the desk, tore off each cover, rolled them up, and burned them page by page in his water cup.

A little caution never hurt.

Out of the seven volumes, the clearest and neatest writing was only on the covers.

Li Zhuiyuan enjoyed reading on the upstairs balcony. Better to avoid letting Liu Yumei glance up and recognize the titles.

As for Ah Li, who loved to sit beside him and read too—no need to hide anything. Ah Li would never tell.

Aunt Liu’s voice rang out from the courtyard:

“Dinner time!”

Li Zhuiyuan went downstairs and sat at his little table. Ah Li was already seated, waiting.

“Hungry?”

Ah Li nodded.

A smile spread across Li Zhuiyuan’s face. If things kept improving, maybe the girl wouldn’t be far from speaking one day.

But if things kept going like this…

“Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”

Li Sanjiang let out three loud sneezes. He had washed his hair before dawn—must have caught a cold.

“Great-Grandpa, after dinner, I’ll go with you to see Doctor Zheng for some medicine or a shot.”

“No need. It’s just a small cold. I’ll sleep it off.”

Aunt Liu placed the soup on the table and chuckled, “There are people in this world who insist others see the doctor, but when they’re sick themselves, they’d rather die than go.”

Li Zhuiyuan pressed again, “Great-Grandpa, we agreed. I’m going with you later.”

This time, he emphasized his tone—he was worried his great-grandfather’s body couldn’t handle even a minor illness.

“Alright, alright, we’ll go!”

Li Sanjiang waved his hand and started eating.

Aunt Liu laughed, “Seems like the great-grandson’s words still hold weight, haha.”

Just as Li Zhuiyuan finished portioning a small dish for Ah Li, he heard Aunt Zhang calling from across the rice fields on the village path:

“Little Yuanhou, Little Yuanhou! A call from Beijing!”

Li Sanjiang urged, “Go on, Little Yuanhou. It’s probably your mother.”

“Alright, Great-Grandpa, I’m going. Brother Runsheng, come with me.”

“Huh? Oh, okay.”

Runsheng had just sat down, incense in hand, but at Little Yuan’s request, he stood right up and followed.

From afar, Li Zhuiyuan could see Li Weihan and Cui Guiying standing outside the corner store.

Made sense. If Aunt Zhang had called him, she would’ve told his grandparents too. From his mother’s perspective, he was supposed to be staying with them, not Great-Grandpa.

Behind his grandparents were several Li family children sharing snacks. When they saw Li Zhuiyuan, Shitou and Huzi ran up with treats in hand:

“Brother Yuanzi, here, have some! Grandma bought them for us, hehe.”

Li Zhuiyuan knew that Cui Guiying usually never splurged on snacks for the kids—too many mouths to feed. The only reason she did today was because she was overjoyed.

Her daughter had finally called.

The last time she came home, it was with her ex-husband, and they weren’t even married yet. Li Zhuiyuan hadn’t even been born. She hadn’t returned since.

In earlier years, she sent the occasional telegram or letter. But gradually, even that stopped.

She still sent gifts for the holidays, and quarterly remittances never failed.

Technically, she’d done more than any child in the village.

But sometimes, all parents want is to hear their child’s voice.

That longing, bottled for too long, had become a kind of luxury.

“Little Yuanhou, quick, it’s your mom on the phone. Grandma and your mom just finished talking,” said Cui Guiying, beaming, as she nudged Li Weihan, “Hurry, pass the phone to Little Yuanhou.”

Li Weihan reluctantly handed over the receiver, “Okay, okay, Lanhou, I’m letting Little Yuanhou talk to you now. Don’t hang up—we’ll talk again after.”

Li Zhuiyuan was skeptical. His mother? Calling him? Chatting with his grandparents for so long?

Li Weihan solemnly passed him the phone: “Go on, your mom misses you.”

Li Zhuiyuan couldn’t believe it. He had long hoped for a call from her—but hope wasn’t the same as wishing.

He lifted the receiver.

“Hello? Is this Little Yuan?”

Li Zhuiyuan’s lips twitched.

It wasn’t his mother.

It was Aunt Xu, his mother’s secretary. He remembered she was also from Nantong.

So it was Aunt Xu who had spoken with his grandparents—not his mother, Li Lan.

His grandparents, after so many years without hearing their daughter’s voice, had likely forgotten it. Aunt Xu spoke the same dialect—there was no way they could tell the difference.

Watching their radiant faces, happier than they were during the New Year, Li Zhuiyuan felt a wave of disgust toward his mother.

Li Weihan: “Little Yuanhou, say ‘Mom!’ Come on, she said she missed you so much. Tell her you miss her too.”

Cui Guiying: “Little Yuanhou must be shy. Don’t cry now just from hearing her voice! Don’t make Uncle Sanjiang fret tonight, haha.”

They clearly hoped to hear him call his mom—something they’d never witnessed. His cousins were all smiling and urging him on.

Even knowing who was on the line, Li Zhuiyuan forced a bashful smile. Gripping the receiver, he cried out with heartfelt longing:

“Mom, I missed you so much!”

There must’ve been a speakerphone on, because he heard footsteps—some approaching, some retreating.

He imagined the real person had walked away earlier to avoid the noise, and now, hearing the call, was returning. Aunt Xu was stepping out.

This time, it would be his mother on the line.

A surge of hope rose in his chest.

It was wrong to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it: Maybe, just maybe, she treated him differently than she did his grandparents.

Finally, Li Lan’s voice came through:

“Li Zhuiyuan, you’ve become even more disgusting.”

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