Chapter 21

In the afternoon, after lunch, Ling Chen, as usual, went to the office to clock in.

He didn’t know exactly which leader had made this decision, but even their makeup artist position had to follow a clock-in system. They had to clock in in the morning, at noon, and in the evening, with fines for being late and no overtime pay for working late.

There had been a leader who tried to implement daily, weekly, and monthly reports, aiming to evaluate each employee’s KPI in detail. When this proposal was brought up at a staff meeting, it was immediately shot down by several other leaders.

Director Song, known for being a nice person, was furious for the first time in front of so many people: “We’re a funeral home! A funeral home is trying to implement employee daily, weekly, and monthly reports? What should we report, the death toll? Are we going to create forms and PPTs, then have everyone reflect on why the number of deaths this month isn’t as high as last month? If the numbers don’t look good, should we send each employee out to kill a few people to make money?”

Though the words were crude, the logic was not wrong. As soon as this was said, the staff burst into laughter.

Fortunately, Director Song saved the day, and that ridiculous daily report system was scrapped. Unfortunately, the clock-in system still remained.

After Ling Chen arrived at the office, he opened his computer to check today’s work orders.

He was, as usual, accompanied by He Jinchao, who hovered around him, mumbling away without caring whether Ling Chen was listening.

They had developed an odd kind of understanding—He Jinchao babbling, and Ling Chen half-heartedly responding.

“Xiao Ling, I looked up some information about Zheng Linlin online last night. Some of her former classmates revealed that she comes from a single-parent family. Her parents divorced when she was in middle school, and she has been living with her mother.”

“Her former manager was surnamed Wang, and was considered a low-level executive manager at our company. Now she’s working under Chen Ge—my manager before I passed away.”

“I also went to her super-topic and searched for any fans who might have posted pictures of her accessories, like bracelets or jade pendants, but she’s too obscure. There were very few photos or videos, and I couldn’t find anything after searching.”

Ling Chen was listening while tidying up his things when, all of a sudden, a figure appeared in front of his desk.

“Ling Chen, I heard you’re going to be on TV?” said his colleague, Yue Jie.

He Jinchao immediately fell silent.

Ling Chen shifted his attention and looked at his colleague. He nodded and replied, his tone calm and nonchalant, without any excitement about appearing on television. “Director Song asked me to cooperate with the filming of a program.”

“Well, after you’re on TV, the ‘funeral home heartthrob’ will definitely become famous,” Yue Jie teased.

Ling Chen’s hand trembled. “Funeral home heartthrob?”

Had he heard that right?

He Jinchao raised an eyebrow. “Xiao Ling, you didn’t hear wrong. She really called you the ‘funeral home heartthrob—’” He couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, ‘the heartthrob of the funeral home.'”

Ling Chen’s mouth twitched. “I can’t accept being called the funeral home heartthrob.”

“Class heartthrob, hospital heartthrob, school heartthrob—those sound nice. ‘Funeral home heartthrob,’ though? It sounds so strange, almost like that phrase: ‘Your family’s grave is overgrown with grass three meters high.'”

“What’s so bad about that?” Another female colleague, Yang Jie, joined in. “You’re just being too modest. I remember clearly when you first joined, many women from different departments came up with excuses to visit our department just to see you. The door to the cooling room was almost trampled. One person came to deliver foundation, another came to borrow glue… Wait, judging by your expression, Ling Chen, you didn’t notice, did you?”

Ling Chen: “…”

He really hadn’t noticed.

Although the funeral home hired people every year, very few young people joined. As one of the few new graduates to join in recent years, his photo had spread across the “working as if visiting a grave” group as soon as he stepped in the door.

At that time, every day, colleagues from neighboring departments would find excuses to visit him, and Ling Chen thought they were just bored with work and wanted to kill time while getting paid.

However, after everyone realized that Ling Chen was quiet and aloof, they gradually lost interest in observing him.

Yue Jie asked, “When will the show air? I’ll definitely be sitting in front of the TV to help you boost the ratings!”

Ling Chen shook his head. “I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“You’re unbelievable…” Yue Jie said with a hint of disbelief. “You’re filming with a female celebrity, and you’re not even excited?”

Ling Chen thought, how should he be “excited”? He was already about to be driven crazy by the ghost child beside the female celebrity.

After exchanging pleasantries with his colleagues, Ling Chen left the office under the pretext of work. He still had a lot of work orders for the day, both in the morning and afternoon, and would be working overtime in the evening—Mr. Guan’s family would be sending their beloved daughter off tomorrow morning, and he had to do the little girl’s makeup tonight.

Ling Chen rode his small electric scooter straight to the cooling room, with a translucent figure sitting behind him, deliberately calling him, “Heartthrob, drive slower. I haven’t sat down properly.”

“If I’m the heartthrob, what are you?” Ling Chen replied sarcastically, “Crematorium heartthrob, or should I just call you ‘scenery’?”

He Jinchao didn’t feel ashamed but rather proud: “That works, I’m grass, and you’re grass. We’re such a perfect match.”

“Grass!” Ling Chen twisted the throttle angrily. “I think you’re thick-skinned grass. Get off my backseat and fly yourself.”

Naturally, He Jinchao refused to move his precious behind from the back seat.

They arrived at the cooling room, where Ling Chen went in to work while He Jinchao floated around outside.

There was a row of locust trees near the cooling room, their green shade thick. It was said that locust trees could calm spirits and protect homes, so the funeral home’s landscaping often included ancient locust trees. He Jinchao floated up to a tree branch, retrieved his phone and power bank hidden in a squirrel hole, and began searching for news while waiting for Ling Chen to finish his work.

The squirrels, though silly and living in such a place filled with Yin energy, couldn’t see him. Every time He Jin Chao came to retrieve something from their hole, they would squeal in fear.

“Why are these things considered cute?” He Jinchao tugged at their fluffy tails in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why does the Great Witch like to raise them?”

Fortunately, He Yizhi didn’t hear this, or else she would have loudly corrected him: “I raise hamsters, not squirrels!”

He Jinchao lazily hid in the branches, leaning against the tree, listening to the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. The lush canopy blocked the harsh sunlight, and occasionally, a few rays would filter through the gaps in the leaves, landing before him.

He instinctively curled his fingers, trying to grasp a beam of sunlight. But the light passed right through his hand and fell to the ground beneath the tree, forming a small patch of light.

The sunbeams never stayed with him, no matter how tightly he tried to hold onto them.

“…”

He Jinchao smiled self-deprecatingly. To the light, he didn’t exist, which was why the light left him without hesitation. In the eyes of most things in the world, he didn’t exist either—they couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, and wouldn’t linger for him.

But—Ling Chen could see him. Ling Chen could hear him. Ling Chen knew he existed.

It was Ling Chen who made his “existence” meaningful.

Even though his heart no longer beat, even though his body was cold, he knew he was still “alive.”

He Jinchao often thought: if the day came when he opened his eyes beside his own body and realized no one could see him, what would he become then?

Maybe, he will fade away in loneliness.

…Oh, or he might unleash himself in loneliness, turning into a troublesome, malicious, handsome ghost: 🙂

He Jinchao leaned against the big tree, casually playing with the sunlight that slipped through his fingers, his thoughts drifting without him realizing it.

Suddenly, a noisy sound came from under the tree.

“Master, yes, place the flowers over there… these acrylic boards should go here… alright, where should I sign for receipt?”

Zheng Linlin, wearing the funeral home’s uniform, quickly walked toward the farewell room. She directed the delivery workers to unload the items from the van one by one.

Behind her, the production team’s staff, carrying cameras, quietly followed her, capturing every word and every action she made in front of the lens.

The funeral center had eight farewell rooms, each with different sizes and decorations, and the rental prices varied accordingly. This time, with sponsorship from the production team, Mr. Guan’s family chose a medium-sized farewell room. They wanted it to be decorated in the style of an animated movie, in line with their daughter’s wishes when she was alive.

To meet this request, Zheng Linlin contacted flower shops and print shops, and in just one night, she designed the decorations based on the animated theme. The next day, everything was made and set up in the memorial hall.

Up in the tree, He Jinchao leisurely rested his chin on his hand, observing the scene below without much concern.

From his elevated position, he had a clear view of everything, while the staff below were unaware that a “ghost” was above them. Occasionally, they chatted idly without knowing everything was being overheard.

“That manager by Zheng Linlin’s side is called Chen Ge, right? Isn’t he He Jinchao’s manager?”

“Originally, our producer wanted to hire He Jin Chao, but Chen Ge turned it down, saying the Best Actor never accepts reality shows.”

“Then Chen Ge recommended Zheng Linlin. The level difference is too obvious though.”

“Although she’s not as popular, her attitude toward collaboration is good! I heard the producer tried to approach several other artists, but they all turned it down for various reasons, saying it was unlucky—after all, people in the entertainment industry are superstitious.”

“—She’s going to be a big star in the future!”

A childish voice interrupted the conversation. A little girl with dark eyes tightly held onto Zheng Linlin’s skirt and loudly said, “He Jin Chao is already dead!”

He Jin Chao, up in the tree, sneered coldly. He originally thought the little ghost was too scared to come out, but it seemed like she popped up again today.

However, this time, the little ghost wasn’t sitting on Zheng Linlin’s shoulder; she was holding her skirt and running after her. Zheng Linlin was tall and walked fast, while the little ghost’s short legs struggled to keep up.

He Jinchao thought the ghost was there to help Zheng Linlin, but the situation unfolded differently from what he expected.

As Zheng Linlin directed the workers to move the flowers into the hall, the little ghost disdainfully clicked her tongue and reached for the petals. When she touched the flowers, several of them wilted instantly, as if the moisture had been drained from them in an instant, leaving petals scattered on the ground.

Zheng Linlin personally arranged the acrylic boards, adjusting them to match the animated movie. The little ghost deliberately kicked the acrylic boards. Somehow, she managed to break one of them.

No matter what Zheng Linlin did in the memorial hall, the little ghost caused trouble.

Lights flickered, flowers toppled, and cameras suddenly lost power…

Various unusual phenomena caused the staff to become uneasy.

“This… something’s not right, is it? I charged all three batteries this morning, and brought two memory cards, but now they’re all dead, and the cards show reading failure!”

“I placed four cameras around the hall, and when I checked just now, three of them were black screens!”

“I’ve touched that acrylic board before, and it was thick, but somehow, a gust of wind blew it over, and now there’s a huge crack in it!”

“The flowers were fresh when they were moved down from the van, but now, less than half an hour later, they’re all wilting.”

The staff’s conversations didn’t avoid Zheng Linlin, and although she tried to pretend she didn’t hear, the strange occurrences couldn’t be ignored.

She remembered how worried her mother had been when they spoke on the phone every night since she started this job. But the thought of gaining fame through this opportunity filled her heart.

It’s alright. She gritted her teeth secretly. These were just small annoyances, minor mistakes. They wouldn’t affect the filming.

The acrylic board must have been placed wrongly, causing it to break. The flowers wilting was simply because the sun was too strong.

There was no reason to worry. Everything was proceeding normally. As long as she successfully finished filming this show, she would surely win the audience’s love with her outstanding performance. All the tears she had shed on camera surely deserved a trending topic, right?

Zheng Linlin quietly reached into her pocket and gently touched the object hidden deep inside.

It was incredibly soft. Though it was roughly sewn, every stitch was made by her hand. Ever since she brought it close, her luck had gradually improved. This time would be no different; this little thing would surely bless her.

What she didn’t know, however, was that the more she touched the object in her pocket, the more the little ghost beside her glared at everything in the hall with resentment.

“Interesting.”

Up in the tree, He Jinchao naturally didn’t miss the small motion of Zheng Linlin reaching into her pocket.

He speculated that what Zheng Linlin was hiding in her pocket must be something the little ghost resided in.

But what confused him was that the little ghost had been helping Zheng Linlin step by step in fulfilling her dream of fame. Why was she now causing trouble at such a crucial moment in her work?

Her actions were contradictory, acting on whims like a childish spirit, changing faces at will.

At this moment, the little ghost’s gaze turned to the photo of the deceased hanging on the wall—its frame was covered by a white cloth that would only be removed before the farewell ceremony tomorrow.

Her expression twisted, her black eyes filled with resentment and jealousy, like nails dipped in poison, glaring at the photo.

She remembered the cries of the middle-aged couple in the office yesterday, their longing eyes for their beloved daughter. A malicious thought rose from the depths of her heart.

The little ghost took steps toward the photo, an evil plan swirling in her mind.

What if—she made the photo fall, and the funeral didn’t need to happen?

With this brilliant idea, the little ghost clapped her hands and giggled. Her childish laughter echoed through the entire memorial hall, but no one heard except He Jinchao.

She tiptoed, reaching out her small hand, trying to pull the white cloth from the photo. The first time, she failed. She pulled again, and again…

“Look, look, look…”

A staff member widened his eyes in shock, unable to say a complete sentence, trembling as he pointed toward the photo in the hall.

Everyone turned to look in the direction he pointed, and sure enough, they saw something shocking!

The photo hanging in the center of the hall slowly tilted to the side, and even the white cloth covering it began to slide down, as if an invisible hand was pulling it!

Gasps echoed in the hall. He Jinchao’s eyes narrowed, and he lightly jumped down from the tree, planning to stop the mischievous little ghost.

As soon as he landed, the little ghost noticed him hiding in the tree.

He Jinchao waved his hand, and the memorial photo immediately began to shake in the opposite direction. The white cloth spread out like a tug-of-war rope, unfurling to the left and right.

Facing such a bizarre scene, the photographer instinctively turned the camera. He Jinchao noticed the photographer’s movement, his mind in disarray, and his actions hesitated for a second.

It was that one-second delay that allowed the reckless little ghost to find an opening. She let out a shrill scream, her small body suddenly shot up a few centimeters, as if she had aged a year in the blink of an eye, and her eyes were filled with flickering ghostly flames.

She exerted a sudden force, and the memorial photo fell from the wall, crashing heavily onto the floor!

Everyone didn’t have time to react. Zheng Linlin screamed and instinctively closed her eyes—however, the expected sound of the frame breaking did not come.

—A well-proportioned hand firmly gripped the memorial photo.

“The wind is so strong, it almost blew the photo away.”

The young man, who had somehow appeared from the side mortuary, walked out. His face was mostly hidden by a mask, revealing only a pair of clear and transparent eyes. With a calm expression, he gently placed the nearly fallen white cloth back over the memorial photo, ensuring not even the slightest edge showed.

He held the memorial photo with both hands, his gaze lightly sweeping over Zheng Linlin and the staff inside and outside the mourning hall, before finally lowering his head again.

Everyone thought he didn’t want to be filmed by the camera, but what they didn’t know was that as he lowered his head, his gaze landed on the face of the little ghost beside him, which was contorted with malice, as if about to tear apart.

“This memorial photo is so important, it’s better kept with me,” Ling Chen said in a calm tone, “so there won’t be any… mistakes again.”