Corpse Retriever

Two days later, Li Sanjiang hosted a modest banquet at Dalinzi’s place. The village head and a few others came over for a drink—and to witness the making of a new will.

Li Sanjiang was in unusually high spirits that day. He drank a bit too much, and Runsheng had to carry him home before returning with a cart.

The cart held candles and yellow paper. Everyone gathered in the courtyard and set up a shrine table facing the peach grove.

Although Wei Zhengdao’s friend hadn’t exactly meant well, his actions had ended up doing good. Regardless of how much people had secretly cursed him, he had indeed safeguarded the area for a whole year.

And by the looks of it, that protection might continue for years to come. Who knew when he would truly expire?

After all, nothing in this world was ever purely good or evil. Many of the “guardian beasts” in regional myths had murky origins. The rule of thumb was to judge actions, not intent.

What Li Zhuiyuan was conducting today was a small conferment ritual.

The ”small” part essentially rendered the ”conferment” meaningless. In nature, it was no different from villagers tossing a pig’s head into the river while worshipping the Dragon King.

Whether the recipient accepted or not didn’t matter. He’d already been ceremonially “elevated.” Even if he wanted to stir up trouble later, he’d feel a little awkward doing so.

Li Zhuiyuan performed the full rite—burning paper, chanting incantations, reciting sutras—with solemn care.It was all symbolic. It had no real effect—far less so than lying on the ground and Walking the Shade right there in the peach grove.

But this was a performance for the Dead Sinker. It was about attitude.

After the ceremony, Li Zhuiyuan stepped forward. In his left hand, he held a bowl of rice wine; in his right, a burning incense stick. He circled the base of the incense in the wine three times.

Behind him, Runsheng, Tan Wenbin, and Yin Meng mirrored his actions.

“To your health.”

The three of them stepped forward and tipped their bowls into the mud beyond the courtyard.

Then, Li Zhuiyuan stepped forward alone. Three wet marks already stained the earth below. But when he poured out his wine, the liquid vanished instantly, sucked into the dirt. Not a single trace remained.

That was real.

Li Zhuiyuan could almost hear the thing’s ghoulish laughter underground. It clearly wanted to see him end up just as miserable as itself for using the techniques from Wei Zhengdao’s Black Book.

Too bad for it—he had already learned the Black Book, had even used it multiple times, and yet bore no trace of Dead Sinker parasitism.

Suddenly, Li Zhuiyuan thought of something.

Maybe, while they had been cursing it, it had been cursing them too.

From its “perspective,” its presence had prevented Dead Sinkers from appearing nearby. So even though Li Zhuiyuan had learned the Black Book, there were no corpses to practice on—no “infection” possible.

It was holding on, waiting to see Li Zhuiyuan fail. But the longer it held on, the longer Li Zhuiyuan stayed safe at home—and away from Dead Sinkers.

It was a stalemate that made both sides miserable.

But it was something that could be exploited.

Stepping outside the bounds of ritual incantation, Li Zhuiyuan began to speak freely.

He angled his toes outward, rooted himself, and stared ahead.

Snap!

He clicked his fingers.

His eyes opened—Walking the Shade.

His vision split—half reality, half a hazy gray.

In the past, lacking proper training, he thought one had to fall asleep to Walk the Shade. Later, he figured out a half-awake state. But in truth, one could walk both worlds at once.

Otherwise, how could Daoists and monks deal with unclean things? If they had to sleep to see them, how could they act?

Looking back now, Li Zhuiyuan had to admire his own stubborn ingenuity—like decrypting the Chronicle of the Qi Clan, he’d always forced his way through with sheer brainpower.

He didn’t see “it.” But beneath the peach grove, where the pond used to be, he could see a faint layer of black.

“Before I met you, I encountered Dead Sinkers all the time. Since meeting you, I haven’t seen one.

“Now I’m leaving home for school. Out there, I’ll surely run into plenty of Dead Sinkers, and I’ll use the methods you passed on through the Black Book.

“But I don’t believe I’ll end up like you—a creature neither human nor ghost. I’ve got more talent. I’m smarter. And I’ve got better luck.

“Just wait and see.

“In a few years, we’ll know who was right.

“Oh, and by the way,

“If nothing happens at home, I won’t be coming back.”

The patch of black soil beneath the grove turned blood-red for a moment, then faded.

Li Zhuiyuan snapped his fingers again. The vision ended. Reality returned.

Behind him, Tan Wenbin mimicked the finger snap.

Of course, he was just imitating Little Yuanhou’s gesture. He couldn’t Walk the Shade yet—he still needed incense and chanting to boost his success rate.

Li Zhuiyuan’s message was clear: If you don’t want me safe at home, then keep my home safe, so I can roam freely and return one day in ruins, giving you the ending you crave.

But really, home meant only his great-grandfather and a few relatives.

Technically, by the household registry, it was just his great-grandfather.

But his great-grandfather had good fortune and hardly needed the creature’s protection.

Even if everyone left, all he needed was another hired hand, and he’d still enjoy his meat and wine.

Worst case? Any real trouble, and Grandpa Shan would handle it.

After all, Grandpa Shan’s coffin still rested in Great-grandfather’s hands.

…

After leaving Dalinzi’s place, they stopped at Aunt Zhang’s store and gave Xue Liangliang a call. Before long, the phone rang back.

Li Zhuiyuan asked about housing arrangements. Xue Liangliang assured him everything was ready.

After confirming the early move-in date, Xue Liangliang offered to drive a truck from Jinling to pick them up, given the volume of luggage.

In the background, Luo Gong’s voice could be heard. Xue Liangliang responded, “Teacher, I’ll be driving a truck soon to pick up my junior. He’s got too much stuff—books and blueprints. A train or bus won’t cut it. He’s still a kid.

“It’s fine, not a hassle. He’s important. I’ve got the license—got it just to make site transport easier. Hehe. Just lend me a truck, okay? Thanks, thanks!”

Li Zhuiyuan knew. Liangliang’s eagerness wasn’t just about brotherhood. He wanted a chance to beg Luo Gong for time off.

Looking back, thank goodness Uncle Qin had been a step too slow to punch through Baijia Town back then.

After the call, back at home, Li Zhuiyuan told Aunt Liu about the move-in date.

She was surprised. “Isn’t there still a lot of summer left? What’s the rush?”

“Yeah. I just can’t wait to get to campus.”

“Alright. Once your great-grandfather sobers up, I’ll let him know.”

“Thanks, Aunt Liu.”

“No need to thank me for something this easy.”

Once he headed upstairs, Aunt Liu wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the east wing to inform Liu Yumei.

“This early? Is the house ready?”

“Has been for a while.”

“Good. Start packing—mainly Ah Li’s clothes and my design sketches. Don’t forget a thing.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Oh, and her collection boxes. Label them all. Don’t let them get bumped. They’re her treasures.”

“I understand.”

The east wing was a bungalow with two bedrooms and a living room. With no stove, the kitchen was elsewhere. Liu Yumei and Ah Li shared the north room.

Aunt Liu walked to the south room, opened the door—and paused.

Boxes were stacked to the ceiling, blocking the entrance.

“Whoa, that many?”

Liu Yumei sighed. “You’ve no idea how much space those sketches take. And that son-in-law from the Bai family—he’s delivered so much it’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have people move everything. The basement at the Jinling house will hold it. What about these spirit tablets—”

Liu Yumei glanced at the altar. At first, the tablets bore old dates. Over time, new ones replaced them. Now they were all freshly carved.

“Once we get to Jinling, buy some Thunderstrike Wood. Carve a new set. No—make two. We can’t let Ah Li run out of materials.”

“Why not just give her the wood blocks directly? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Liu Yumei shook her head. She walked to the drawer, pulled out a rolled painting, and slowly unfurled it.

“This is Ah Li’s drawing.”

Aunt Liu stepped closer. The painting showed a room with a high threshold. Outside the door, ghostly creatures roamed. Inside, the altar’s oil lamp was burnt out. All the spirit tablets were cracked.

“They’re willing. When the day comes that Ah Li stops carving them, it’ll mean she no longer holds a grudge.”

…

Xue Liangliang arrived in a truck. To avoid blocking the village road, he pulled into the fields—after all, it was Great-grandfather’s land. No one would mind.

Runsheng and the others began loading luggage. There was a lot. A regular pickup wouldn’t have sufficed.

Li Zhuiyuan and Ah Li had already said their goodbyes upstairs. With their silent understanding, there was no sadness.

But when they came downstairs, in front of Liu Yumei, the boy looked reluctant to leave. The girl kept her eyes lowered, face somber.

After getting into the truck, Li Zhuiyuan asked worriedly, “Liangliang, are you good to drive?”

“Relax.” Xue Liangliang started the engine, turning the wheel. “Little Yuan, pass me that cushion. I need it for my back.”

…

Not long after the students left for school, Aunt Liu formally resigned from her post.

Li Sanjiang had expected it. They shared a simple farewell meal. At the end, he handed over two red envelopes.

“One for you. One for Ah Li.”

Aunt Liu looked at Liu Yumei, uncertain.

Liu Yumei nodded. “Take it. It’s Sanjiang’s way of showing gratitude.”

Then, Li Sanjiang took out a thicker envelope, cautiously handing it to Ah Li.

Though he’d witnessed her growth over the year, the girl still unnerved him—especially without Little Yuanhou around.

Liu Yumei’s gaze sharpened. “What’s going through your head, old man?”

“It’s for the child. Our Little Yuanhou—his parents divorced, left him here alone. Thank goodness this little girl was here to keep him company.”

She noticed he hadn’t said “for our future granddaughter-in-law.” Her heart softened.

She reached out. “I’ll accept it for Ah Li. When we see Little Yuan in Jinling, I’ll repay him with something even better.”

…

After Liu Yumei’s household moved out, Li Weihan and Cui Guiying moved in.

With Weihan drinking and chatting with him, Li Sanjiang wasn’t lonely.

To Li Weihan, this was already fulfilling a promise—caring for Uncle Sanjiang in his old age, though Sanjiang’s body was still strong.

He even used the excuse to have his sons take their grandkids back home. One must serve the old before the young—Li Weihan had his priorities straight.

Before long, someone came looking for work as a paper effigy crafter.

She was a woman in her thirties. Looked honest and dependable. From Shigang. Her husband had died. No children. Her in-laws had cast her out. Her birth family didn’t treat her well either. She wanted room and board along with the job.

Li Sanjiang had her try crafting one.

To his surprise, she was skilled—her paper effigy lifelike.

“Alright. You’re hired. What’s your full name again? You said it’s Yinghou?”

“Xiao Yingying.”

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