Chapter 23

The sun slowly sank toward the horizon, and the funeral home, located in a valley, was about to welcome the night.

The wheels rolled over the last rays of the setting sun, and the hearse carrying the body slowly stopped in front of the mortuary.

Madam Guan, with red eyes, was the first to be helped out by her husband. She walked with unsteady steps, her body almost entirely leaning on her husband’s shoulder, likely having cried all the way in the car.

The back door of the hearse opened, and a small wooden coffin appeared before everyone.

The atmosphere became especially solemn. The photographer lifted the camera, but the lens did not focus on the wooden coffin. Instead, it subtly rested on the yellow satin flower at the front of the hearse. The machine meticulously recorded everything: the mother’s tears, the father’s sighs, and the onlookers’ regrets…

A few funeral home workers were in charge of lifting the coffin, and Ling Chen stood by the door of the resting room in advance, guiding them to place the coffin in the middle of the rolling bed.

Someone whispered, “It’s so light.”

Another person replied, “After all, it’s a child.”

Indeed, it was a child.

Ling Chen turned to look, and aside from him, no one noticed the faint, translucent figure beside the coffin, supporting it.

This was the few things He Jinchao could still do for this deceased little girl.

Zheng Linlin supported Madam Guan and walked toward the resting room. The dark aura surrounding her did not dissipate, like a mist frozen in mid-air. Ling Chen and He Jinchao knew it was only temporarily calm; it was gathering strength, waiting to strike at any moment.

Zheng Linlin was unaware of what was happening to her, her focus entirely on the little coffin.

After the coffin was pushed into the resting room, Ling Chen, citing the small space, only allowed one family member to enter.

“Mr. Guan, Mrs. Guan, you two discuss who will change your daughter’s dress. I am male and it’s inconvenient.”

After discussing, Mr. Guan, afraid his wife might be overwhelmed by emotions, decided to change their daughter’s clothes himself, while Mrs. Guan would rest outside.

Zheng Linlin volunteered, “Do you need help? I don’t have any filming equipment. I’m a woman, so it’s more convenient for a woman to change a girl’s dress.”

“No,” Ling Chen replied coldly, “Can’t you understand my words? No one other than the family is allowed.”

Zheng Linlin insisted, “Then I’ll wait outside. If anything is needed, just call me.”

“No need,” Ling Chen answered, “Keeping your distance from me is the greatest help.”

“…” Zheng Linlin was stung, her face showing some embarrassment. “Little Ling, is there some misunderstanding between us, or have I done something wrong to disturb you?”

Ling Chen did not answer. He gave Zheng Linlin a deep look and then closed the door to the resting room.

Zheng Linlin stood awkwardly in place, her assistant quickly came over to comfort her: “Linlin, don’t take it to heart. I always thought that Ling Chen had a strange personality. You see, he hasn’t smiled once in the past few days. He’s so handsome but always looks so cold.”

Zheng Linlin reluctantly cheered up: “People in this line of work might all have their ‘personalities.'”

Inside the room, Ling Chen stepped aside to make space next to the coffin for Mr. Guan.

He Jinchao drifted over to Ling Chen’s side, turning his back to the coffin and standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

Although He Jinchao couldn’t see Mr. Guan’s actions, the sounds from behind were clearly audible, echoing in the small resting room.

The heavy coffin lid was pushed open, revealing a small yellow body bag.

The zipper slid down bit by bit, and with each few centimeters, the man’s actions became slower. How large could such a small cloth bag be? Yet, just unzipping it took a long time.

Finally, he pulled the zipper down to the end, revealing the small figure lying inside.

After that, there was no further movement.

He Jinchao couldn’t hear any sound, so he asked Ling Chen, “What is Mr. Guan doing?”

Ling Chen, unable to speak, gestured for He Jinchao to open his palm, then wrote three words in his palm with his finger.

—【He is crying】.

The father was silently mourning the untimely death of his young daughter.

The tears formed a river, but they could not bring her back to life.

After crying for an unknown amount of time, Mr. Guan sniffed heavily, wiped his tears hastily with the hem of his coat, and then took out the princess dress and wig he had bought for his daughter.

Mr. Guan faced some difficulty when dressing his daughter. Since she had been kept in the hospital morgue since her death, her body was cold and stiff, unable to bend her arms like she could when alive. While dressing her, he became flustered and had to cut the dress and shoes a little to get them on.

After finishing all of this, Mr. Guan was covered in sweat, but his emotions were visibly more stable. He adjusted his daughter’s dress again and again, holding her cold little hand and whispering, “Yun Mei’er, be good, Daddy will wait for you outside.”

He turned to Ling Chen. The man, almost forty years old, suddenly bent down and solemnly bowed to him.

“My Yun Mei’er… please take care of her.”

Ling Chen avoided the bow and responded seriously, “Don’t worry. I will make sure she fulfills her princess dream.”

Mr. Guan walked out of the resting room, looking back several times. Outside, Madam Guan was sitting with a cup of hot tea, speaking faintly with Zheng Linlin.

When she saw her husband coming out, Madam Guan hurriedly stood up and asked, “How is it?”

Mr. Guan answered, “It’s a perfect fit.”

Madam Guan finally breathed a sigh of relief, softly saying, “As long as it fits, as long as it fits…”

The princess dress was something she had spent time searching for in several stores. She had found a suitable size for her daughter on the shelf. The saleswoman had asked her while checking out, “How old is your child?”

Madam Guan had answered, “Eight years old.”

The saleswoman had said, “Eight years old? But this dress is for a five-year-old. Would you like to exchange it for a bigger one?”

Madam Guan didn’t know how to respond.

Her Yun Mei’er, who should have grown up healthy and strong like other children, was now so small. The clothes were tiny, the shoes small, and even the coffin had to be a small size.

Thinking about it, Madam Guan’s tears fell once again.

Zheng Linlin hurriedly handed her a tissue. Earlier, Madam Guan had shared many things about her daughter with her.

She knew that the little girl’s name was Guan Xiao Yun, but her family called her Yun Mei’er, and her friends called her Xiao Yun. Yun Mei’er was eight years old this year, performed excellently in school, and was lively and cheerful. But about a year ago, she suddenly collapsed, was rushed to the hospital, and was diagnosed with a type of cancer known as “children’s cancer.”

When she was first diagnosed, Mr. and Mrs. Guan were not disheartened. They remained confident that with modern medicine, their daughter would recover. They spent their savings and actively cooperated with the hospital’s treatments, while the school also raised funds and her classmates visited her to cheer her on.

During that time, Yun Mei’er was full of energy and even requested to study in the hospital room, reading aloud. She was determined that once she recovered, she would return to school.

The family encouraged each other, firmly believing that clouds would part and the moon would shine through.

But the more they waited, the more bad news they received. Yun Mei’er soon lost the strength to flip through books. Her beautiful little braids fell out due to the chemotherapy. She spent more and more time sleeping, and when she was awake, she would cry in her mother’s arms, saying she wanted to go home.

The child could cry, but the mother could not.

Mrs. Guan tried to remain calm, repeatedly telling her, “Yun Meier, once your condition stabilizes, we’ll go home. Mommy and Daddy will take you to the park. This time, we won’t work overtime, and we’ll watch your favorite princess together. We’ll even get you a pet. You’ve always envied your classmates’ dogs, right? Mommy will let you pick one you like, how about a Bichon Frise?”

However, Yun Meier never had the chance to lie in her own little bed again, to see her favorite princess, or to choose a puppy of her own.

“I regret it so much,” Mrs. Guan whispered, her grip tightening on Zheng Linlin’s arm, sobbing. “I always thought ‘later,’ ‘later.’ Why didn’t I fulfill her wishes sooner?”

Zheng Linlin’s arm had deep red marks from Mrs. Guan’s grip, but she didn’t feel any pain. Her thoughts were drifting.

Although Yun Meier passed away at a young age, her eight short years were filled with love. Her parents were affectionate, her family was united, and her classmates were kind… Even when she fell seriously ill, no one saw her as a burden. After she passed, her parents did everything they could to fulfill her wish of being a princess.

Zheng Linlin thought, if her younger sister had been born, she would have been about the same age as Yun Meier. She too would have been a beloved little girl, excelling in school, dancing, and playing the piano. She would have looked forward to weekends at the amusement park, and would have insisted on watching princess cartoons.

Yun Meier passed away early, but she had all of everyone’s love; her younger sister never saw the light of day, never had friends or family, let alone a beautiful childhood.

Compared to Yun Meier, wasn’t her younger sister a thousand times, a million times more pitiful?

In comparison, Yun Meier was truly blessed! Why did she deserve such loving parents? Despite being from an ordinary family, her parents did everything they could to keep her alive, accumulating debt, but never regretting having her.

Why? Why did her own sister have even her right to be born taken away?

— Wait!

Zheng Linlin shook her head violently, suddenly clutching her aching head.

What was happening to her? Why did she go from thinking about Yun Meier’s passing to thinking about her own sister? Painful lives aren’t meant to be compared, they just exist. But those malicious thoughts were like venomous snakes, slithering into her mind, filling her with resentment and pain.

She was jealous, extremely jealous. Zheng Linlin didn’t understand why she felt inexplicable jealousy toward a little girl who had already passed away.

Her head was dizzy, her temples throbbing. The pain felt like a chisel drilling into her brain. She had been feeling neck and shoulder pain, headaches, but she had thought it was just from overwork. This was the first time the pain was so intense that she could barely stand.

The staff behind the camera were the first to notice something was wrong. Director Chen asked, “Linlin, are you okay? Your eyes look very red.”

Zheng Linlin was preoccupied with work, so she shook her head and rubbed her sore eyes, forcing a smile. “I’m fine… Maybe it’s just the heat, I think I’m overheated.”

Overheated? The others looked up at the sky. The sun had already set, and the moon was rising in the night sky. How could she have overheated?

If Ling Chen and He Jinchao could see her now, they would understand why— the black smoke surrounding Zheng Linlin had started to take on tinges of red.

—-

In the mortuary, Ling Chen took out a makeup brush and began to apply makeup on Yun Meier.

Ling Chen had mentally prepared for the state of Yun Meier’s body after hearing about her condition, but when he saw her in person, he realized her condition was even worse than he had imagined.

She was too thin. Though she was eight years old, she looked like she weighed only about forty pounds. Her arms were so thin they seemed like they could break with the slightest touch. Her cheeks were deeply sunken, her hair had fallen out, and the backs of her hands and feet were covered in marks from IV needles. The bruises, purple and black, layered together, and the veins in her arms and legs were almost destroyed.

The first thing Ling Chen needed to do was cover the bruises on her body with foundation and try to lift her sunken cheeks.

While he was busy, He Jinchao was also not idle. From the corner of Ling Chen’s eye, he saw He Jinchao pulling out a stack of small paper packets from somewhere. He opened each packet and sprinkled the contents around the corners of the mortuary, leaving no corner untouched.

Next, He Jinchao took out a small box and made something inside it float out, carefully attaching it to the portrait of Yun Meier hanging on the wall.

Finally, he pulled out a small transparent bottle, floated in front of Ling Chen, and signaled for him to stretch out his hand. He wanted to pour the watery liquid from the bottle onto Ling Chen’s hand.

Ling Chen was not so easy to command and spoke with a tone of mistrust, “Where did you get these paper packets, boxes, and bottles? Don’t bring that feudal superstition nonsense around me.”

But He Jinchao replied, “How can you say this is nonsense? This is from the great shaman.”

“Someone who worships Hatsune Miku at home is giving you good things?” Ling Chen was even more doubtful. “I saw what was inside your paper packets—small pellets, the box had weird yellow hairs, and this bottle… Why does it smell so bad?”

He Jinchao dodged the question. “You’re speaking too harshly. This is all natural.”

“Natural?” Ling Chen repeated the words, his gaze scanning the pellets on the floor, the strange hair on the portrait, and the liquid in the bottle. A small spherical figure suddenly flashed into his mind. “Wait, this isn’t… something related to the little Shiba Inu balls, is it?”

“Hmm…”

“Big movie star, stop pretending. Before I say something worse, I suggest you come clean.”

Seeing that Ling Chen was truly angry, He Jinchao could only confess. He explained the discussion with Hu Yizhi:

Since they couldn’t predict the extent of the threat from the little ghost around Zheng Linlin, Hu Yizhi had specially sent over the feces, urine, and shed fur of the little Shiba Inu to help He Jinchao form a rudimentary protective barrier around the mortuary.

“Did Hu Yizhi brainwash you?” Ling Chen held his forehead. “I don’t want to argue in front of guests, but do you really think hamster excrement can resist evil spirits?”

“The little Shiba Inu is not just any hamster.” He Jinchao retorted. “Xiao Ling, you should have heard of the ‘Five Immortals,’ right?”

The “Five Immortals” are five small animals with mystical powers in folklore, often kept by shamans to gain spiritual power.

The Five Immortals are the fox, weasel, hedgehog, snake, and mouse.

He Jinchao raised his finger, and his phone, which had been lying on the table, began automatically playing several voice messages from the great shaman.

【”The fox is a protected species, the weasel’s farts stink too much, the hedgehog is not cute enough, I don’t like snakes… so I decided to raise hamsters. After all, hamsters and mice are similar, not that different.”】

【”The little Shiba Inu is an amazing hamster, it runs on the wheel 300 times a day, flips 200 times, and digs 80 holes. The fact that it found you in the sea of people just shows it’s a hamster with an eye for the valuable.”】

【”Mr. He, I’m sending you the little Shiba Inu’s by-products. Use them as instructed, safe and convenient with no side effects!”】

“By the way, don’t forget what you promised me before, to do it in my live stream—”

The last sentence was cut off by He Jinchao.

Ling Chen: “Wait, play the voice message till the end. What did that fraud Hu Yizhi scam from you, the big fool?”

In just a few minutes, the “great sorcerer” was downgraded to a “fraud,” and He Jinchao was labeled as the “big fool.”

He Jinchao defended himself: “It wasn’t ‘scamming,’ we were just helping each other as friends.”

Ling Chen: “So, he really scammed quite a bit from you. Let me guess what it is—did he make you buy rockets for him in that tiny live stream with only fifty people?”

“Not exactly,” He Jinchao was honest. “He asked me to buy him a hundred carnivals.”

By the way, one carnival equals one hundred rockets.

Just calculating that in his head, Ling Chen felt his heart racing: “He Jinchao, you should be glad you died early—if someone like you had lived to sixty, I’d go to your doorstep to sell health supplements and scam all the money you earned in your life.”

Alright, Ling Chen admitted he had a possessive desire for He Jinchao’s money! After all, they had agreed that after He Jinchao died, all his money would go to Ling Chen.

So, He Jinchao’s money wasn’t just his anymore, it was their “shared property.” He Jinchao using their “shared property” to give to the fraudster was like using it as toilet paper.

Ling Chen couldn’t be bothered to argue with the brain-dead He Jinchao, nor would he allow He Jinchao to smear hamster urine on himself, which was disgusting.

He returned to the coffin, gathered his focus, and continued to apply makeup on the little girl.

Once he immersed himself in work, time and the noise around him couldn’t disturb him.

Time passed second by second, until Ling Chen finished the final touch. Only then did he snap out of his trance.

In front of him lay a young girl sleeping in the coffin, dressed in a long gown. Her golden hair draped over her shoulders, with the ends curled playfully. Her eyes were tightly shut, her face round, and her lips showed a faint tint of red. Her crossed hands rested gently on her abdomen, and her skin was delicate and smooth, with even her nails beautifully decorated…

Anyone who saw her would think she was a sleeping princess. When she awoke from her sweet dreams, she would wave her magic wand and embark on the next great cosmic adventure.

Such a sight should provide some comfort to her parents, right?

Ling Chen exhaled, putting down his makeup tools. It was only then that he realized how sore his body was. After hours of bending to touch up her skin tone and fill in her hollowed cheeks, now even the slightest movement felt like his waist would break.

“Heh…” He supported himself against the bed, rubbing his waist. The next moment, a chair appeared behind him, with a soft cushion already placed on it.

Ling Chen glanced at the figure by the corner of the room. He wondered how long He Jinchao had been watching him while he worked.

He carefully sat down on the chair, leaned back, and sighed with relief at the comfort.

“Thank you for your hard work.” He Jinchao thoughtfully offered him a water bottle, almost bringing it to Ling Chen’s lips.

Ling Chen took a sip to soothe his throat and looked at the wall clock. “Is it really already midnight?”

He didn’t realize he had been working for so long.

There was no sound from outside the room. He Jinchao informed Ling Chen that an hour ago, the program team had wrapped up. All the people—Guo’s family, the staff, and Zheng Linlin—had left.

“Zheng Linlin left too?” Ling Chen was surprised. “That kid actually left?”

He Jinchao’s face turned serious. “Absolutely. When she left, I even went out to check, and she definitely left without looking back.”

“…” That’s so strange.

Ling Chen glanced at the portrait in the room, which was temporarily covered with white cloth. Some fur from little was stuck to it. They had thought tonight would be the best time for the little ghost to act, so they had been extra cautious, but the little ghost didn’t make a move.

The girl lay peacefully in the coffin, unaware of how chaotic the night was.

“Still, don’t let your guard down.” Ling Chen was extremely cautious. “I’ll stay in the temporary resting room tonight, just on duty… Ah…” He yawned as he spoke.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit?” He Jinchao looked at him. “You’ve worked hard. Take a nap on the desk. I’ll keep watch.”

They were discussing the night watch when suddenly, the door to the resting room was knocked on.

Knock, knock, knock.

Both of them immediately fell silent and exchanged a wary look.

No response from inside. The knocking came again.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

He Jinchao nodded slightly to Ling Chen, who raised his voice: “Who is it?”

“It’s me.” A familiar male voice came from outside the door. “Ling Chen, are you done with the makeup? I brought you some late-night snacks.”

Ling Chen froze: “Director?”

Indeed, it was Director Song outside the door.

Ling Chen quickly got up, holding his waist as he went to open the door for Director Song. He cautiously cracked the door open and peeked through—yep, it was indeed Director Song, with sparse hair, short and stocky, his belt fastened high, always wearing his “administrative black jacket” even in the heat. His whole body exuded an air of bureaucracy.

Director Song was holding a thermos bag with late-night food he had packed from the cafeteria earlier.

Seeing Ling Chen cautiously peeking through the door, Director Song was surprised: “What’s wrong?”

Ling Chen withdrew his gaze and opened the door: “Nothing. Just didn’t expect you to come this late.”

“I came to check on you since you’re working hard,” Director Song said. “Also, I wanted to talk about tomorrow’s shoot.”

Ling Chen nodded and stepped aside: “Please come in.”

“I’ll pass,” Director Song declined politely. “You just finished your makeup, and the family hasn’t seen it yet. It’s not proper for me to look first. Let’s talk outside.”

Ling Chen rubbed his aching waist, unwilling to take a few more steps: “It’s okay. Please come in.”

He didn’t want unrelated people to see the guest’s appearance, but Director Song wasn’t just anyone. He was a work-related superior, so it didn’t break his own rules.

“Let’s talk outside,” Director Song insisted again. “You’ve been working for so long. Don’t you want to get some fresh air and relax a bit?”

“…” Ling Chen furrowed his brows, sensing something was wrong.

He looked back at the portrait and the guest lying there, then turned back to face Director Song. His throat tightened. “Director, why do you keep insisting that I go outside?”

Director Song paused for half a second. If Ling Chen hadn’t been keeping an eye on him, it would have been impossible to detect the slight unnaturalness.

“Ling Chen, what are you talking about?” Director Song chuckled heartily, his eyes kind and friendly, like a harmless elder. “I just—”

“—You just can’t come in, right?” He Jinchao’s figure suddenly appeared in front of Ling Chen, standing as a shield, blocking him from the strangely behaving “Director Song.”

“What—”

He Jinchao pointed to the ground under their feet, where small black particles were scattered around the door to the resting room. They were so tiny they were easy to overlook, but upon closer inspection, these small particles had quietly gathered together into a fragile yet undeniable defense line after “Director Song” appeared.

It was precisely this barrier that prevented “Director Song” from stepping into the mortuary room.

“Little ghost,” He Jinchao curled his lips in disdain, looking down at the “Director Song” before him. His eyes gradually took on a crimson hue, like a mist of blood. “Didn’t your host ever tell you that it’s easy for a child pretending to be an adult to give themselves away?”