Corpse Retriever

“Grandma, I brought Brother Yuanhou to play at our house.”

“Yeah, go play. Bump!”

Li Zhuiyuan looked at Liu Cuicui standing in front of him, then at Liu Jinxia in the living room playing cards with three partners. He knew clearly that he was dreaming.

Because the scene around him was far too detached from reality. His vision was entirely in black and white, and all the people and objects seemed to be sketched with charcoal.

Though they could resemble the corresponding people and things, they were somewhat blurry, somewhat distorted, with a strange carelessness in the rough lines.

Li Zhuiyuan looked down at himself. He saw that he was still normal. What was abnormal were the other people and things in the dream.

This couldn’t help but remind him of the countless sketches in his mother’s study, the same white backgrounds with charcoal traces.

He was dreaming of the moment when he and Liu Cuicui had just arrived at her house and greeted Liu Jinxia. Next, Liu Cuicui, standing before him, took his hand and led him inside.

The little girl’s delicate hand, now held in his, felt rough, almost painful, like sandpaper.

He couldn’t help but pull away and stop walking. Liu Cuicui kept going inside alone, but her arm stayed poised as if still holding someone’s hand.

Behind him, the four people playing cards in the living room—Liu Jinxia and her partners—suddenly went silent.

Li Zhuiyuan turned to look. He saw all four of them frozen, completely still.

Even the smoke rings Liu Jinxia had exhaled hung fixed in the air, no longer spreading.

This stillness gave Li Zhuiyuan a chance to observe. The three card partners had soft, shallow charcoal marks, while Liu Jinxia’s form had thick, deep, hard lines.

Standing there for a long time, Li Zhuiyuan felt puzzled. In the past, whenever he realized he was dreaming, he’d wake up right away. But this time, he was still stuck in the dream.

Finally, he chose to walk further inside. He saw Li Juxiang sitting there, picking vegetables. Her lines were also hard, starkly out of place compared to the faint, delicate strokes around her.

Li Zhuiyuan stood in front of Li Juxiang. The deep charcoal marks captured the details of her expression—she was smiling, her eyes full of reminiscence.

“Auntie Juxiang, Auntie Juxiang?”

Li Zhuiyuan called out a few times, even waved his hand in front of her face. Li Juxiang didn’t move at all, not even blinking.

Leaving there, Li Zhuiyuan reached the staircase. Before going up, he took off his shoes and walked barefoot.

Entering the bedroom, the standing electric fan stood still, no longer spinning. The Guo Jing and Huang Rong on the TV were now just blurry sketches.

Liu Cuicui was pointing at one of her dolls, her mouth open as if explaining, also completely still.

The lines on Liu Cuicui were clearer and harder than those on her grandmother and mother, almost like black, solid edges.

It was as if everyone and everything else was drawn on, but she was carved in.

Li Zhuiyuan looked at the bed. There was no him on it—it was empty.

It wasn’t just objects that were still—sound was too. Li Zhuiyuan suddenly realized his ears hadn’t heard any noise in a long time. The entire world was terrifyingly quiet.

He started to panic a bit, because he didn’t know how long he’d be stuck in this dream.

He opened the bedroom door to the balcony. The second-floor balcony of this building was open, tiled with red and white ceramics.

Looking out, beyond the houses, some rough scribbles barely resembled farmland, but most of his view was a bleak, empty white.

Looking up, where the sun should’ve been was just a glowing white halo, like an eraser that could fall at any moment and wipe everything here away.

“Hello, is this Granny Liu’s house?”

A voice came from the dam below, so jarring in this moment, even piercing.

From the second floor, Li Zhuiyuan looked down. It was a man, about fifty years old, carrying an old woman on his back.

The old woman was very thin. Her sleeves revealed arms of shriveled skin barely wrapping a bit of bone. Her hair was long and messy, draped over her back.

“Hello, is this Granny Liu’s house?”

The man asked again, anxiously turning in a circle with his mother on his back.

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t know if he should answer.

At that moment,

The old woman, who’d been slumped on the man’s back, suddenly lifted her head. Her face was aimed right at Li Zhuiyuan standing on the second floor.

Though everything was sketched in charcoal, this old woman’s eyes carried a fineness that broke the limits of the drawing style.

It was anger, malice, venom!

The next moment, Li Zhuiyuan found everything around him starting to spin and twist, like a vortex appearing from nowhere, tearing and pulling everything in—including himself.

“Brother Yuanhou?”

Li Zhuiyuan opened his eyes and saw Liu Cuicui’s concerned face.

“Brother Yuanhou, were you dreaming?”

“Yeah.” Li Zhuiyuan sat up and responded, “How long was I asleep?”

“Not long, maybe two hours. Brother Yuanhou, let’s go downstairs to eat.”

“No, I’ll eat at home.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be polite, Brother Yuanhou.” Liu Cuicui grabbed Li Zhuiyuan’s hand and led him downstairs. “Mom, Brother Yuanhou’s awake.”

By now, Liu Jinxia and her three card partners had finished lunch and started their afternoon game.

Li Juxiang smiled and lifted the red lid on the kitchen table, revealing the meal specially saved. “Xiao Yuanhou, come eat. I’ll heat up the soup for you.”

“Auntie, I’ll eat at home.”

“Be good, don’t be shy with Auntie. Auntie and your mom were never shy with each other. Besides, Cuicui waited specially for you to wake up so you could eat together.”

“Thank you, Auntie.”

“Brother Yuanhou, sit here.” Liu Cuicui sat down first, while Li Zhuiyuan went to the other side of the counter to grab bowls and chopsticks.

“Go, go, you sit down. Auntie will get them.”

“Okay, Auntie.”

Li Zhuiyuan walked back and sat. Soon, Li Juxiang placed chopsticks and a bowl of rice in front of him.

The dishes on the table, though served in small, ordinary bowls, were modest in portion but more than enough for two kids. Two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes—especially the bowl of braised pork with potatoes, which had just two potato pieces as garnish, the rest all meat, clearly handpicked with care.

Li Juxiang brought over a bowl of stewed fish soup, drizzled with sesame oil and a touch of vinegar, its aroma fresh and enticing.

On top of that, she opened a can of mixed fruit, pouring a bowl for each of the two kids.

By village standards, this was truly a lavish spread.

“Xiao Yuanhou, stay for dinner tonight too. I’ll make you more tasty stuff,” Li Juxiang said with a smile.

Li Zhuiyuan set down his chopsticks and looked at Li Juxiang. “This is already a lot. Thank you for your hard work, Auntie.”

“Hehe, don’t put down your chopsticks. Eat.”

Li Juxiang patted Li Zhuiyuan’s head, secretly marveling at how Li Lan had raised such a polite, well-mannered boy, the kind who’d be liked anywhere.

“Xiao Yuanhou, does your mom cook for you at home?”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head, placing his chopsticks on the bowl. “Mom doesn’t.”

“She must be busy with work, huh?”

“Yeah, she’s really busy.”

“What about your grandparents’ place? Don’t they cook for you?”

“I don’t go there often.”

“Then where do you usually eat?”

“At the neighbors’.”

Usually after school, in the faculty compound, the grandparents who’d finished teaching or were retired would come take him to their homes to eat.

“Poor kid.” Li Juxiang didn’t press further. She told the kids to eat, then grabbed the thermos to refill water for the card table.

Just then, a shout came from outside:

“Hello, is this Granny Liu’s house?”

At that sound, the chopsticks Li Zhuiyuan had just picked up slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.

Clatter!

In the living room, Liu Jinxia tossed her bridge cards onto the table and clapped her hands. “Done.”

The three card partners nodded, stood up, and ended the game, clearly used to this routine.

But before leaving the living room, they each went to a basin in the corner to wash their hands.

The basin had banana leaves soaking in it. They’d rub a leaf on their hands, shake them off, and then dry them with a towel on the rack.

This was to ward off bad luck, something Liu Jinxia herself had set up. She no longer cared about the villagers’ attitude toward her family and instead deliberately created rituals to enhance her mystique.

Li Zhuiyuan and Liu Cuicui walked into the living room. Liu Jinxia was just getting up from her chair and asked, “Finished eating?”

“Still eating, just came out to look,” Liu Cuicui said.

“What’s there to look at? Fine, Xiao Cuihou, help Grandma put away the cards.”

“Okay, Grandma.”

After giving her instructions, Liu Jinxia walked off on her own toward the back, to a shady room that served as her office.

“Slow down, there’s a step here,” came Li Juxiang’s voice from outside. She’d gone to greet the caller after hearing the shout.

“All good, no problem, no problem.”

Li Zhuiyuan looked toward the living room door and saw Li Juxiang helping an old man step over the threshold.

The old man was hunched forward, his back curved, hands clasped behind his lower back—a hunchback.

Or maybe… like he was carrying someone who wasn’t there.

“Are these your kids?” the old man asked with a smile, looking at the two children.

“The girl’s mine, the boy’s my sister’s. My mom’s waiting for you—go through that door, turn right, and keep going to the end.”

“Good, good. Can’t keep Granny Liu waiting.” The old man continued walking inside.

Li Zhuiyuan’s gaze stayed fixed on the man’s hunched back.

The old man passed through the inner door of the living room and turned right. He should’ve kept going, but he suddenly stopped.

Because he was a forward-leaning hunchback, his shoulders and above were now blocked by the wall, leaving only his curved back still visible.

Then,

His hands, clasped behind his lower back, unconsciously lifted slightly—left arm pressing down, right arm swinging up. His hips shifted inward, shoulders twisted outward, and his cheek was already pressed against the wall.

Li Zhuiyuan stared at that empty back. In that moment, he felt as if someone was there, propping themselves up on the man’s back, “looking” at him.

Li Juxiang asked, “What’s wrong?”

The old man’s rough voice suddenly carried a hint of shrill hoarseness as he said, “This boy…”

Li Zhuiyuan’s hands clenched tightly in nervousness. He suddenly recalled a time when his mother had taken him to look at a wall of paintings. He’d asked why a big section was left blank, and she’d answered," Xiao Yuan, that’s negative space. It’s left for you to imagine. That makes it even more effective.

Back then, he’d been a bit confused. Now, he seemed to understand.

“Keep moving. My mom’s waiting inside,” Li Juxiang urged again. She genuinely didn’t know why he’d stopped there. Still, she didn’t find his posture odd—after all, he was a hunchback, and even standing still, he looked strange.

“Yeah.” The old man grunted, then suddenly squatted down, his body leaning slightly backward, hands reaching to brace against the ground.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Li Juxiang reached to help him, but despite his hunched, skinny frame, his downward force was heavy. She couldn’t pull him up at all. Luckily, he steadied himself with his hands, just squatting and leaning back without falling over.

Seeing this, Li Zhuiyuan stumbled back two steps.

That posture—it was like he was setting someone down from his back.

The sunlight from outside streamed into the living room, but the old patterned floor tiles reflected little light, showing only faint shifts of shadow and shine.

Li Zhuiyuan’s gaze dropped. At the inner doorway, it seemed like two patches the size of footprints darkened slightly.

It was so subtle, so faint that Li Zhuiyuan wondered if his eyes were playing tricks, if he was overthinking.

But then, two new patches darkened briefly before fading, closer to him this time.

Finally, those two darkened patches appeared on the tiles right in front of him—and didn’t fade.

The cold breeze brushed over him. Li Zhuiyuan felt his face, chest, hands, and feet start to chill. But the thing was, he was facing inside the house—where was this breeze coming from?

The back halves of those darkened patches vanished, the front halves deepened, and the chill in front of him grew stronger.

Li Zhuiyuan swallowed hard. His gaze flickered, shifting away. Some instinct told him not to look straight ahead, as if an emaciated old woman was there, unseen, leaning forward, her face drawing close to his.

Li Zhuiyuan bit his lip.

Suddenly, he felt the chill on his left cheek deepen, like a block of ice pressed against it. His scalp began to tingle, prickling in waves.

The old man squatting on the ground turned his head toward him, finishing what he’d started to say, “This boy… he’s real good-looking.”

(End of Chapter)