Corpse Retriever

Zhu Yang let out a bitter laugh. “No matter how much I travel north and south, I’m still stuck in this truck cab. If it weren’t for my wife and kids back home, I wouldn’t bother trapping myself in here for half a lifetime.”

Li Zhuiyuan noticed several thick paperback novels under Zhu Yang’s seat, clearly cheap pirated prints. It seemed this was how he passed the time.

He also spotted two steel pipes and a knife.

Nowadays, these were standard gear for long-haul truckers.

By late afternoon, the truck had entered a mountain road. After driving a while, Zhu Yang felt something was off. He stopped, got out, and cursed.

“Heartless bastard—ran over a nail.”

Tan Wenbin looked puzzled. “Did a nail fall off the truck ahead?”

Zhu Yang snorted, lit a cigarette, and pointed ahead. “Walk up a bit, there should be a repair shop.”

Tan Wenbin, quick on the uptake, didn’t say something dumb like “What luck.” Instead, he cursed, “Shameless bastards!”

Zhu Yang sighed. “This is the polite version.”Then he turned to Runsheng. “Come with me to show some presence. Let’s act tough and haggle the price.”

Runsheng replied, “Got it!”

Zhu Yang and Runsheng walked off to find the repair shop. Tan Wenbin stayed in the cab to memorize vocabulary. Li Zhuiyuan and Xue Liangliang wandered over to the roadside.

Below was a slope leading to a river. With leaves beginning to fall, the view was surprisingly clear.

“This place has good feng shui,” Li Zhuiyuan remarked.

A spot where dragons rest and phoenixes perch—an auspicious place. In ancient times, this would be ideal for founding a village. But with modern transport, it now seemed remote and forgotten.

Xue Liangliang, ever the engineer, nodded. “Perfect spot for a small hydroelectric plant.”

Sure enough, a repair shop wasn’t far off. Soon Zhu Yang and Runsheng returned with a middle-aged mechanic and a young apprentice.

At first, Li Zhuiyuan thought Zhu Yang was putting on a show—being overly friendly with the mechanic.

But he quickly realized Zhu Yang was being sincere. The man’s prices were completely fair, even generous.

Even if the nail had been planted by the mechanic, Zhu Yang would’ve praised, “Nice placement!”

Once the tire was fixed, Zhu Yang offered a pack of cigarettes, but the man declined, only accepting the agreed amount.

As he was leaving, the mechanic said quietly, “It’s getting late, and there’s less traffic. Don’t go further. The road ahead… isn’t peaceful.”

Zhu Yang asked, “What do you mean?”

The mechanic shook his head. “Can’t say.”

Zhu Yang pressed, “There’s a bunch of us. We’ll be fine.”

“They’ve got guns.”

Zhu Yang fell silent.

The mechanic pointed downhill. “See that little path? Take it into the village. Spend the night there. Wait until morning when the roads are busy again.”

Zhu Yang asked, “Is that your village?”

“No. I live further ahead.”

“Then…”

“Believe me or not, it’s up to you.”

He left with his apprentice.

Back in the truck, Zhu Yang dug under his seat for his “weapons,” but hesitated. In the end, he chickened out, poked his head out the window, and said to the group:

“Better safe than sorry. Let’s backtrack a bit and rest until morning.”

As they turned around, Tan Wenbin said, “My dad’s told me stuff like this before, but I didn’t think it’d be so real.”

Zhu Yang replied while scanning for the path, “It’s not all that dramatic. Just bad luck. This time I’m on a solo job, not traveling with the convoy.”

Runsheng, excited, chimed in, “Now this is the jianghu!”

They found the path, and not long after, a small village appeared—only a few dozen homes, many with lights still on.

“Sorry, folks,” Zhu Yang said. “Let’s make do for tonight. Tomorrow it’s just one gas pedal to the destination.”

He didn’t plan to enter the village or find lodging. Just wanted a place with signs of life to park safely.

Stopping at some godforsaken roadside spot would be far more dangerous.

There was food in Zhu Yang’s truck, and Runsheng’s bag too. Everyone grabbed a bite and prepared to sleep.

Li Zhuiyuan and Xue Liangliang stayed in the cab. Runsheng, Tan Wenbin, and Zhu Yang slept by the rear steel cables, using clothes and plastic sheets as cover.

Tan Wenbin could’ve slept in the cab, but insisted on keeping watch—said it was because he was a cop’s son.

Li Zhuiyuan barely dozed before waking up. He got out to pee.

It was bitter cold in the mountain night. He rubbed his arms for warmth.

After past experiences of trouble during nighttime bathroom breaks, Li Zhuiyuan was now extra cautious. He immediately sought out Runsheng.

Runsheng, holding a steel pipe, was awake.

He got up to accompany Li Zhuiyuan.

They didn’t go far—just a few steps. Runsheng loosened his belt. Li Zhuiyuan didn’t need to; he wore drawstrings.

Afterward, Runsheng offered a bottle of water for handwashing.

“Stream water,” he chuckled.

“You sleepy, Runsheng?”

“Nope. I’ll sleep during the drive tomorrow.”

“Mind if I sit with you for a while?”

They climbed into the truck bed and returned to Runsheng’s previous corner.

Tan Wenbin’s snores filled the silence like a solo concert. He was juggling exam prep and travel fatigue—of course he was exhausted.

“Something’s not right…”

Li Zhuiyuan’s ears twitched. He hadn’t heard a peep from Zhu Yang—not even breathing.

He went over, lifted the plastic sheet where Zhu Yang had been sleeping. Just a jacket. No Zhu Yang.

“What?” Runsheng was stunned. “Maybe he went to poop?”

“You didn’t talk to him earlier tonight?”

“No. I thought he was under that plastic the whole time.”

“When did you start your watch?”

“After Binbin fell asleep. Nobody was talking, so I just kept lookout. Maybe he left while we were peeing?”

“Or maybe he left earlier.”

“Could he have gone into the village? Thought sleeping in the truck was too rough and found a room?”

“Then why didn’t he wake us?”

“Afraid we’d make him pay?” Runsheng shook his head. “No, he’s not that kind of guy.”

Though they hadn’t known Zhu Yang long, he seemed decent. Letting others sleep in the cab while he took the back was generous.

And if he’d really gone to find lodging, he wouldn’t have to pay—Liangliang had always been accommodating.

They waited a while longer. Still no sign of Zhu Yang.

Li Zhuiyuan woke up Tan Wenbin and Xue Liangliang. Everyone gathered in the truck bed to discuss.

It might’ve seemed like overreacting, but they all knew better.

“Should we go look?” Xue Liangliang suggested.

“No,” Li Zhuiyuan said firmly. “Until Zhu Yang returns, we’ll keep watch in pairs, rest in turns, and hold out till morning.”

Everyone agreed.

They took shifts, inching the night along.

Eventually, dawn crept in. But the weight in their hearts only grew heavier.

Zhu Yang hadn’t returned.

By 8 a.m., the sun was fully up, but still no Zhu Yang.

Even if he had gone into the village for the night, he should’ve come back by now.

A trucker wouldn’t stray far from his vehicle.

As he chewed on dry rations, Tan Wenbin mumbled, “So is he really missing? Or is he betting none of us know how to drive a truck?”

By 10 a.m., they decided enough was enough. They had to act. Zhu Yang had to be found.

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