Chapter 5: Still Got Some Fight in Me

"Except for Qian Tieshan... none of the others are real cops?!"

Lin Feng's mind buzzed with confusion, and just as he was about to ask more questions, he turned around to see that the murderer's corpse had already lain back down.

"It's still early, far from midnight. How could the soul-calling technique have revived him?" Lin Feng's heart raced. Could it be a "live corpse"?

A live corpse refers to a body temporarily coming back to life under certain conditions to deliver a final message. These occurrences are extremely rare, happening only when the deceased has a powerful lingering attachment.

In his two years as a mortician, Lin Feng had only encountered this phenomenon twice. The first was a middle-aged man killed by his wife and her lover, and the second was this very moment. Niu Meng had once told him that corpses that became live corpses were highly likely to turn into vengeful ghosts.

"Lin, what are you thinking about? Hurry up and have someone take the body away," Director Wang's voice interrupted Lin Feng's thoughts, and he snapped back to reality, drenched in cold sweat.

"How long will this body be kept in the morgue?" Lin Feng asked.

"According to Director Qian's request, for a week. Even though he's a murderer, his family deserves time to mourn," Director Wang replied, then asked, "What's wrong? Why do you look so pale?"

Lin Feng grimaced. Why wouldn't I look bad? If the body isn't buried within seven days, the Yin emissaries won't intervene, and if this guy really becomes a vengeful ghost, even they might not be able to handle it.

In cases like this, cremation as soon as possible is the right thing to do.

Director Wang noticed Lin Feng's changing expressions and patted him on the shoulder. "Realized you've offended the criminal investigation team, haven't you?"

Lin Feng rubbed his forehead. Actually, no. Those guys aren't even real cops—what am I afraid of?

"Let me tell you, Director Qian is someone even city officials have to show respect to. Questioning their investigation in front of him is like slapping him in the face. I had to smooth things over for you earlier. Don't act so rashly next time."

Lin Feng looked up. "Director Wang, thank you. I'd like to ask you for a favor."

"What is it?" Director Wang asked.

"I'd like to request three days off this Friday," Lin Feng calculated. The murderer died last night, and his returning soul ritual would happen on Sunday night. If he really turned into a vengeful ghost, it would be best to stay away. After all, there's nothing more important than saving his own life.

In the Fierce Ghost Containment System, vengeful ghosts were described as being level 20 and above. That Qing Dynasty ghost from the textile factory, which was only level 18, had nearly overpowered Niu Meng. If he encountered another vengeful ghost, he might as well consider himself done for.

Unexpectedly, Director Wang, who had always treated him well, looked sorrowful and said, "Comrade Lin, we don't have many hardworking employees left in the funeral home. I had high hopes for you, but I didn't expect you to desert us."

Desert us?

Lin Feng was baffled. Why use such a term? Does Director Wang somehow know this guy might become a vengeful ghost?

Realizing that Director Wang was an unusual person, Lin Feng nervously asked, "Have you... seen something too?"

Director Wang glared at him, "Of course I've seen something! Chen Yang resigned last night, and now you're asking for leave today. Are you threatening me?!"

What?

Lin Feng blinked. Chen Yang resigned?

Chen Yang was another mortician. In recent years, with the rapid aging population and the rising mortality rates due to societal pressures, the funeral home had been receiving an overwhelming number of bodies. The older morticians couldn't keep up with the workload. After some reform a few years ago, they started hiring from the general public.

Chen Yang, who was six years older than Lin Feng, was hired five years ago. Lin Feng remembered him as being shrewd, a bit of a flatterer, but with no ill intentions. He'd been doing quite well, and his salary and performance bonuses were higher than Lin Feng's. Why did he suddenly quit?

"I hadn't heard about his resignation. Chen Yang's kid is only a year old, and his wife makes just 2,300 yuan a month. His parents live in the countryside. His whole family depends on him. Why would he resign?" Lin Feng asked.

"You didn't hear?"

Director Wang seemed equally puzzled. He had the body carried away, then pulled Lin Feng aside under a tree, lit a cigarette, and slowly explained.

"He's had... mental issues lately."

Director Wang tapped his temple. Lin Feng asked, "You mean psychological problems?"

Director Wang nodded.

"For years, you and Chen Yang have taken turns working the night shifts. Maybe it's from being in this environment too long, but lately, Chen Yang said he's been feeling mentally unstable, often seeing strange things—like a taxi pulling into the funeral home to pick someone up."

Lin Feng: "..."

"And more than once, he's asked Uncle He, the gatekeeper, about it. But Uncle He said he never saw any taxi."

Lin Feng smiled wryly and shook his head. That guy sure knows how to add to my troubles.

"I looked at his complexion; it wasn't great. I don't think he was lying. Besides, strange things happening around here aren't exactly rare. After all, this place is full of yin energy."

"So, you agreed?"

Director Wang sighed in frustration, "He was practically on his knees begging me. How could I refuse? From now on, you'll be the only one working the night shifts. Don't blame me for pushing you so hard—some of the older employees don't have enough yang energy to handle the night shifts. But you, young and full of vigor, are different."

Lin Feng groaned internally. "Director Wang, I'll do the night shifts! But I just need three days off!"

"Three days? Who's going to cover for you? You're the youngest here, next in line is me. Should I be the one working the night shifts?" Director Wang finally asserted his authority as a leader. "Alright, come to my office later and sign the paperwork. Starting next month, your base salary will double."

Lin Feng coughed awkwardly, feeling guilty. "It's not about the money…"

"The old textile factory site in Longhuai District is being torn down. Besides the new factory, they're building four residential buildings. The city is allocating apartments to our department, and you can get one! Just 2,200 yuan per square meter—internal pricing. There are six floor plans available, from 89 to 110 square meters."

2,200 yuan per square meter?!

Lin Feng's eyes widened. Where else in Nanyang can you find such cheap apartments? His parents lived in the countryside and had always dreamed of buying him a place in the city, believing he couldn't find a wife because he didn't own property (they didn't know about his job). But housing prices had skyrocketed in recent years, and they had all but given up on the idea.

His younger sister would be starting university in the city in September, and having an apartment there would give her some pride and prevent her from feeling inferior to others.

As the saying goes, money can make even ghosts work for you. Lin Feng finally succumbed to Director Wang's temptation. Desire won over reason.

"Director Wang, you've hit my weak spot."

Lin Feng quickly lit a cigarette for Director Wang, knowing he'd need his help with the apartment. Director Wang smiled like a sly fox, "Admitting your mistake and fixing it makes you a good comrade..."

...

At 11:30 p.m., Lin Feng checked his watch. It was time to head back.

The night shift at the funeral home ran from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m. During this time, families would drop off bodies scheduled for cremation the next day, and plans for the morning would be arranged.

But there was an old saying at the funeral home: "The hour of the dog guards the end of the day, but the night shift must not go past midnight." Everyone who worked there knew that around midnight was when yin energy was at its peak, and staying around corpses at that time could attract strange phenomena.

Lin Feng burned some incense, changed out of his work clothes, and headed outside.

The first floor was pitch dark. As he descended the stairs in the dark, he suddenly stepped on something soft.

"Who's there?"

He had encountered strange things in the stairwell before, like finding an extra step or a dead-end at a turn. But this time, he remained relatively calm.

"Master Lin, it's me—Mi Shihong."

A voice came from the dark hallway.

Lin Feng knew that there shouldn't be any living people left in the building, so he turned on his phone and shone its dim light toward the source of the voice.

A pale, purple-faced man covered in frost sat on the ground, leaning against the wall. He held a syringe in his hand, injecting something into his arm. His half-length hair covered part of his face, dripping with water. His arms were full of needle marks and sores. Though his head was lowered, his eyes rolled up to look at Lin Feng. Through the strands of hair, his eyes glowed eerily in the dim light.

Isn't this the corpse of the murderer Qian Tieshan's team brought in this afternoon?

Lin Feng suddenly remembered that he had used the soul-calling technique on him earlier.

Realizing this was a revived soul, Lin Feng steadied himself and quietly took a step back. He asked, "How do you know my name?"

Mi Shihong smiled. "There's a photo of you hanging by the entrance. Outstanding worker, active party member—Lin Feng."

Mi Shihong finished his injection, shivering in relief, and cursed, "Dying was really deserved. Can't even enjoy a fix after death. If I'd known, I would've kicked the habit and bailed earlier." He tossed the syringe on the ground, and it vanished.

Mi Shihong muttered to himself for a while, then looked up at Lin Feng. "Master Lin, you've got some serious skills to bring me back to life. Can I ask you for two favors?"

Mi Shihong opened his shirt, revealing a fierce tiger tattoo and a thick gold chain. It was clear that this junkie had held a high rank in the drug den.

Sensing the dark energy in Mi Shihong's eyes, Lin Feng cut him off before he could say more, "Boss Mi, I'm just an insignificant worker with no real skills. I'm afraid I can't help you with anything."

Mi Shihong's smile froze. "Are you sure you won't help me?"

Lin Feng frowned at Mi Shihong. While it was true that this guy might become a vengeful ghost, right now he was just a revived soul—a mere body with a soul temporarily attached. There was no reason to be afraid.

Seeing that Lin Feng remained unmoved, Mi Shihong suddenly attacked, throwing a punch straight at Lin Feng's temple.

"In all these years, I've never met anyone who dared refuse me. You don't know what's good for you!!"

Lin Feng was knocked down the stairs, rolling several times before he could get up. Before he could recover, Mi Shihong stomped on his back, causing Lin Feng to gasp for air.

"Master Lin? Still not reconsidering?" Mi Shihong sat on the stairs, laughing as he looked at Lin Feng sprawled on the ground, flicking his half-long hair like a typical junkie with a crazed, unstable grin.

Lin Feng struggled to his feet, shaking his dazed head.

"Reconsider... your mother!" Lin Feng cracked his neck, taking a deep breath. His phone had fallen to the floor nearby, and his face was hidden in the dim light.

"Unpredictable temper, erratic behavior, quick mood swings—definitely the traits of a classic junkie. Good thing I didn't have time to tidy you up earlier, or my work would've been a waste."

Mi Shihong didn't quite understand what Lin Feng meant, raising an eyebrow and smiling at him.

Lin Feng chuckled, rubbing his nose. "Four years ago, when I first came to Nanyang City, I hadn't found a job yet. I was starving and dizzy when I went to eat at a place called 'Boss Mi's BBQ.' There was a fly in the fried rice, so I refused to pay. The owner had some guys beat me up. Ring any bells?"

Mi Shihong laughed, frowning as he patted his head, trying to remember. Suddenly, his arrogant expression dropped as he recalled a figure from his past. As he stared at Lin Feng, the memories began to overlap. "You're the blond kid who trashed my shop the next day?!"

Lin Feng shrugged, "I stopped dying my hair a long time ago, but I can still fight."

Lin Feng picked up his phone, blowing off the dust. Seeing the scratches on the screen, he clenched Mi Shihong's throat like an iron clamp. "Damn it, I brought you back to life just so I could kill you again!"