Chapter 39: All That Searching for Nothing, Only to Find It by Chance
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The air before dawn was intensely damp. Even taking a deep breath felt as though he had inhaled a mouthful of water through his nose.
A hazy morning mist shrouded the surroundings, lending everything in the distance a blurred, indistinct quality.
Zhang Hao walked uphill along the smooth concrete road for more than ten minutes before finally reaching the entrance to the funeral home.
By then, quite a few vehicles were already parked outside.
Some people crouched by the roadside, smoking desolately. Others sat inside their cars with tissues pressed to their faces. Some were collapsed in the courtyard, refusing to rise no matter how their relatives tugged at them. Still others wailed uncontrollably, their grief-stricken cries seemingly piercing the heavens, as though they could call the departed back to life.
Upon arriving here, it seemed even the air had taken on its own emotions, endlessly infecting everyone present and magnifying the sorrow in their hearts until it became unbearable.
After all, this was the place where people came to say their final farewells to their loved ones.
Once someone was sent into that furnace, they could only ever be seen again in photographs.
Watching it all, Zhang Hao felt an oppressive tightness in his chest, yet he had no outlet for his emotions. He could only feel himself being stifled.
After taking several deep breaths, he lifted his feet and walked into the funeral home.
…
“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing? Outsiders aren’t allowed in here. Are you family or something?” a middle-aged man scolded him. A cigarette hung from his mouth, and dark stubble covered his entire face.
Zhang Hao glanced at the sign hanging by the entrance and smiled. “I’m not family.”
“If you’re not family, then you’re even less welcome. Hurry up and leave. Go on, go.” The middle-aged man waved him away impatiently.
But Zhang Hao showed no intention of leaving. Instead, he stepped forward, stopped in front of the man, and pulled a stack of red banknotes from his pocket.
“Big brother, I’d like to get a little cremated ash. Just a little will do. It has to be from a woman.”
Zhang Hao had come to the funeral home for a very simple reason.
He needed the ashes of women from ten different households.
If one wanted to know where cremated remains were easiest to obtain in this world, the answer would certainly be a funeral home.
And compared with going from house to house begging for ashes, getting some from a funeral home was obviously far easier.
The middle-aged man looked at the money, then at Zhang Hao, and immediately glanced around.
When he saw that no one was nearby, he hurriedly pushed the money back. “What are you doing? We have rules here. Don’t try that nonsense on me. It won’t work!”
Zhang Hao smiled and pulled a cloth pouch from his other hand. “Come on, rules are dead, but people are alive. Big brother, don’t you have plenty left over after every cremation? Don’t you just throw it all away? Just give me a little from the portion you’re going to discard.”
“You… What do you want these ashes for?” The middle-aged man narrowed his eyes and regarded him suspiciously.
Zhang Hao sighed silently. “My wife has always been in poor health. I recently consulted a master, and he gave me a folk remedy. He said I need ashes from women of ten different families to use as a medicinal catalyst.”
“Really?” The middle-aged man remained half-convinced, his eyes continually counting the money.
Zhang Hao nodded. “There’d be no point in lying to you, would there?”
“All right, then. Wait here.” The middle-aged man took the money and the cloth pouch before turning and walking inside.
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…
Before long, Zhang Hao was holding a worn-out cloth pouch that seemed to contain something inside.
Without looking back, he walked out of the funeral home.
He went down to the roadside at the foot of the mountain, took out his phone, and called Zhao Yuan. Then he stood there quietly and waited.
Half an hour later, the eastern sky was still dark, with no sign of dawn breaking.
On the highway in the distance, a minibus came speeding toward him, its two headlights glaring brightly.
A moment later, it stopped in front of Zhang Hao.
Without paying much attention, Zhang Hao opened the door and climbed inside.
“Haozi, are you… are you done?” Zhao Yuan swallowed nervously and asked with a mixture of curiosity and unease.
Zhang Hao nodded. “Yes. Big Brother Zhao, let’s head back.”
“…All right.”
Zhao Yuan abruptly stepped on the accelerator. A faint force pushed them back into their seats as the minibus sped straight along the road ahead.
At that moment, Zhang Hao suddenly asked, “Big Brother Zhao, do you know whether anyone in town has died recently? Preferably someone whose death left behind only a widow and a child—or even just a widow would do.”
Zhao Yuan’s hands trembled again on the steering wheel. He felt the blood throughout his body turn cold.
Zhang Hao today was far too strange!
First, he had gotten up in the middle of the night and gone to a funeral home. Now he was asking who had died and whether they had left behind a widow…
What on earth was he planning?
Wait a moment. Was this really Zhang Hao?
“Wh-what’s wrong with you? Why are you asking about… about this?” Zhao Yuan stammered, his forehead covered in sweat.
If he had not been so reluctant to abandon his minibus, he would have jumped out right then and run as far away as possible from this “Zhang Hao.”
Seeing his reaction, Zhang Hao naturally understood what was going through his mind. He immediately laughed awkwardly. “Don’t misunderstand, Big Brother Zhao. I was just asking around for no particular reason. I happen to need something for when I go up the mountain.”
Zhao Yuan swallowed and raised a hand to wipe the cold sweat seeping from his forehead. “Let me think… Don’t, don’t rush me.”
Before long, Zhao Yuan’s brows drew together. “I remember now. Haozi, there really does seem to be a case like that.”
Zhang Hao’s eyes brightened, and he hurriedly pressed him. “Tell me.”
“When I went to buy supplies today, I heard people in town say that a man was stabbed yesterday. They couldn’t save him. He’d only just gotten married, and his wife had just become pregnant. It was terribly tragic.” Zhao Yuan spoke thoughtfully.
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Zhang Hao froze.
Could this… be the very incident he had heard about yesterday?
“Big Brother Zhao, do you know when that family will hold the funeral?” Zhang Hao blurted out.
Zhao Yuan paused, his pupils shrinking. “I think… I think the funeral procession is today.”
“Turn around! We’re going back to town.”
“Haozi, what exactly are you trying to do?”
“Big Brother Zhao, I’ll give you a thousand. Turn around and take us back to town right now!”
“…All right. Hold on tight.”
…
Cliffside Town, an old residential district.
The eastern sky gradually brightened. A pale strip of light emerged from behind the mountains, bringing warm yet dazzling sunlight back to the earth.
Drip, drip, clatter—
Clang—bang—boom—
Suona horns, gongs, drums, and firecrackers rang out together.
A procession of people dressed in pure-white mourning clothes, wearing white caps with strips of black cloth fastened around their arms, moved through the residential district. Some scattered paper offerings in all directions, some sobbed softly, and others carried funeral banners.
Among the crowd was a young woman who looked to be around thirty. Her eyes were vacant, her face haggard, and she clutched an urn in her arms as she followed the procession forward to the accompaniment of the mournful music.
“Haozi, what exactly did you come here to do?” Zhao Yuan stood at the edge of the crowd and asked in a low voice, frowning.
Zhang Hao did not answer. He kept his eyes fixed on the young woman carrying the urn.
The tears shed by a grieving widow were right before him.
Fortunately, he had prepared a small bottle for collecting tears in advance. Otherwise, he would have been completely at a loss.
Now he only had to find a way to approach her and obtain a single tear.
The problem was how to do that without being beaten and thrown out by the bereaved family.
After all, today was a major occasion for them—and a funeral at that. If he handled things badly, he would deserve whatever beating he received.