Corpse Retriever

Almost everyone in the village had gone to Big Beard’s fishpond to watch the commotion, but Li Zhuiyuan didn’t go. Lying in bed, he really couldn’t sleep, so he dragged a small stool out to the dam outside the house, gazing at the distant fields.

After a while, his sister Yingzi, who had finished washing the dishes, came out too. She first carried out a square stool, placing stationery, books, and homework on it, while she sat on a small stool. A simple desk was thus set up, with today’s bright sun serving as the lamp.

Yingzi’s parents had never paid much attention to her studies, but they also never said things like “school’s useless for girls,” “better to marry early,” or “find a connection to get into a textile factory to earn money.”

Before the semester, they paid her tuition when it was due. For things like material fees, she didn’t need to feel shy or guilty—she could just ask openly, and it was normal.

But everything suffers by comparison. Compared to other girls’ families in the village, Yingzi’s parents’ hands-off, unconcerned approach somehow became a model of valuing their daughter’s education.

Yingzi knew this was influenced by her aunt, Li Lan.

Back then, Aunt Li Lan had relied on studying to completely change her fate, becoming the pride of Grandpa and Grandma. Even her father and uncles, whenever they mentioned Aunt to outsiders, would unconsciously puff out their chests, sharing in her glory.

However, Yingzi’s academic performance was only average, even though she truly worked hard without slacking.

Back in the day, Grandpa and Grandma obviously couldn’t have deliberately sacrificed their sons to support their daughter. The truth was, her father and uncles’ brains just couldn’t handle books.

This made her wonder: could it be that all the brains in the old Li family went to Aunt?

At first, this thought was just there, not too strong. But on the second day after Xiao Yuanhao was sent here, when he sat beside her, still a bit reserved, and she was stuck on a math problem with no clue for ages, a soft voice came to her ear:

“Square root of 3.”

Later, whenever Yingzi couldn’t solve a problem, she’d ask Li Zhuiyuan to do it. She also noticed that Li Zhuiyuan hardly needed to think—his eyes would scan the problem, and he’d give the answer.

Maybe for him, the biggest trouble was having to write out the solution process, or else his dim-witted sister wouldn’t understand!

You know, she was already in her first year of high school.

Yingzi had asked him what kind of school he attended in the capital. Li Zhuiyuan answered: Youth Class.

Yingzi instinctively took “Youth Class” to mean elementary school.

She marveled to herself: No wonder he’s an elementary student from the capital—the curriculum is so advanced.

Li Zhuiyuan just sat there in a daze, occasionally snapping out of it to help his sister with a problem, then going back to dazing.

Feeling a pen cap lightly poking him, Li Zhuiyuan turned his head, thinking she wanted help with a question. But instead, she pointed to the west side of the dam, where there was a step, and below it stood a little girl in a floral dress.

It was Liu Cuicui, Liu Jinxia’s granddaughter, standing there timidly, not daring to come up.

Yingzi furrowed her brow at Li Zhuiyuan, signaling him not to pay attention to her.

Normally, she’d have just spoken up—after all, the village kids had an unspoken agreement not to play with her. But yesterday, Liu Jinxia and her daughter had come to their house to “treat” her brother, so now she felt too embarrassed to say anything.

Li Zhuiyuan stood up, walked toward the edge of the dam, and approached Liu Cuicui with a smile, asking, “You’re here! Is something up?”

Liu Cuicui’s gaze darted elsewhere, her fingers pinching the hem of her skirt. “Came to find you to play.”

“Sure!” Li Zhuiyuan turned and waved to Yingzi. “Sis, I’m going to play with Cuicui.”

Yingzi didn’t say anything, just sighed and lowered her head to keep doing her homework.

Honestly, there wasn’t much fun to be had. A lot of times, it was just about not wanting to stay home, so you’d go to a friend’s house, call them out, and then everyone would wander around aimlessly together.

Liu Cuicui looked at Li Zhuiyuan, who had come out to walk with her, her eyes shining with a smile. This was the first time she’d gone to someone’s house to call them out, like the other village kids did.

Still, she didn’t dare step onto their dam without permission. Kids her age might not understand a lot, but they’re more sensitive. She didn’t want to face the adults’ rolled eyes.

“Brother Yuanhou, my mom said you were sick yesterday?”

“Yeah.” At the reminder, Li Zhuiyuan’s mind flashed back to Little Yellow Oriole, and his smile slowly faded.

“Oh!” Liu Cuicui quickly apologized. “I won’t talk about it, I won’t talk about it. Being sick really isn’t nice.”

Li Zhuiyuan touched his pocket and said apologetically, “Oh, I forgot to bring you snacks.”

It wasn’t really forgetting—Grandpa and Grandma weren’t home, and the snack cabinet was locked, so he couldn’t open it. Sister Yingzi probably knew where the key was hidden, but Li Zhuiyuan knew if he asked her for help getting it, she’d say bad things about Liu Cuicui inside the house.

“Snacks? We have some at my house, lots of them. Come to my house to eat.”

“To your house?”

“Yeah, come play at my house.”

“Okay!”

With his agreement, Liu Cuicui gathered her courage, took Li Zhuiyuan’s hand, and the two walked together along the field path.

Right then, she really hoped the adults on the dams of the houses along the way would see her and ask, “Hey, little Cuihou, who’re you playing with?”

She also hoped to run into kids her age on the road, so they’d see she had a playmate too.

Too bad most of the village was at Big Beard’s fishpond, gawking at the pork jelly.

Still, she was thrilled, her lips never dipping from a grin. If she weren’t holding hands, she felt she’d be so happy she’d spin in circles.

“Brother Yuanhou, do you have trouble understanding what we say?”

“At first, I couldn’t understand a thing. Then if people spoke slowly and kept it short, I could get it. Now I understand everything, and I can even say some myself, just not very well.”

When he’d first been sent to this house, he really couldn’t understand a word the elders said to him. Only his siblings and cousins who’d been to school could talk to him in Mandarin.

He remembered back then, every time he called Li Weihan and Cui Guiying “Grandpa” and “Grandma” [as in maternal grandparents], they’d clearly get a bit upset and kept correcting him to say “Grandpa” and “Grandma” [as in paternal grandparents].

Around here, they didn’t use “maternal grandpa” or “maternal grandma.” Often, they distinguished grandmas by direction—like the one living south was “South Grandma,” and the one north was “North Grandma.”

“Hey, Brother Yuanhou, have you been to the Forbidden City?”

“Yeah, I’ve been.”

“I want to go there someday.”

“Sure, just call me, and I’ll take you.”

“Really? You’re not tricking me, are you?”

“No tricks. I know the Forbidden City really well.”

In Li Zhuiyuan’s memory, there was a time when Li Lan worked at the Forbidden City. He’d been left there to play on his own. Sometimes he’d sit on the steps by a side gate, holding an orange cat in his arms, watching the endless stream of tourists coming through the main gate. He’d watch for an entire afternoon.

“Hey, Brother Yuanhou, have you ever had bean juice?”

“Uh…”

“Have you?” Liu Cuicui blinked her big eyes, looking over curiously.

“I have.”

“Is it good? What does bean juice taste like?”

What did it taste like?

Li Zhuiyuan’s mind flashed to last week, when Cui Guiying was scrubbing out the spoiled pickle jar at home.

“Some people like it, some don’t.”

“Really? Well, when I go to Beijing someday, I’ll definitely try it.”

“Yeah.”

“Brother Yuanhou, look, that’s my house.”

Following Liu Cuicui’s pointing finger, Li Zhuiyuan saw a two-story building across a stretch of farmland.

“You live in a building, huh.”

The village had all kinds of houses. Most were single-story brick and tile homes, a few poorer families still lived in mud houses, and likewise, a few better-off families had already built two-story buildings.

Walking onto the dam of Liu Cuicui’s house, they entered the first-floor living room, where Liu Jinxia, with a cigarette in her mouth, was playing bridge.

Her card partners were two old women and one old man. Playing cards with Liu Jinxia meant you could eat at her place, and the food was pretty good—meat and liquor included—so Liu Jinxia never lacked for card buddies. She was happy to spend a bit to “buy” company for her entertainment.

The card table was truly a magical place. Liu Jinxia, despite her cataracts and poor eyesight, played her cards with no delay at all.

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

“Grandma Liu.” Li Zhuiyuan greeted her.

“Yeah, go play.” Liu Jinxia answered briefly, then turned her attention back to her cards. “Bump!”

Just moments ago, the card players had been talking about what was happening at Big Beard’s place. Liu Jinxia, puffing smoke rings, had responded casually. Hearing her granddaughter bring Li Zhuiyuan in, she paused slightly, her eyes narrowing through the haze.

This kid got possessed yesterday, and this morning Big Beard and his son were floating in the fishpond.

If there wasn’t something fishy going on, Liu Jinxia wouldn’t believe it even if you beat her to death.

But she didn’t stop her granddaughter from playing with Li Zhuiyuan. What a joke—both of them were bad-luck stars, so who was too good for who?

Liu Cuicui led Li Zhuiyuan through the living room to the inner room, where Li Juxiang was sitting on a stool, picking vegetables. Seeing her daughter bring someone back, she was a bit surprised at first, but when she saw it was Li Zhuiyuan, a smile spread across her face.

It reminded her of when she was a kid, playing with Li Lan.

Li Juxiang stood up right away, wiping her hands on her apron. “Sit, Xiao Yuanhou.”

Then she quickly went inside and brought out a bunch of snacks to entertain him. Liu Jinxia’s family was indeed well-off, and with Liu Cuicui as the only child, she had snacks that other village kids envied.

Li Juxiang also opened two bottles of lemon soda, giving one to Li Zhuiyuan and one to Liu Cuicui.

These drinks, shaped like beer bottles and fizzy, were cheap and popular. Kids didn’t bother pouring them into bowls—they’d drink straight from the bottle, mimicking the bold way adults drank liquor.

“Xiao Yuanhou, is your mom doing okay?”

“She’s good, Auntie.”

“I heard your mom got div—” Li Juxiang suddenly realized it wasn’t right to ask a kid this and quickly changed course. “Your mom and I used to play together all the time when we were little. We were really close.”

“Yeah, Mom’s mentioned you—Auntie Xianghou, Auntie Xianghou.”

Usually, adding “Hou” was for elders or peers, not something younger kids used.

But Li Juxiang wasn’t upset at all—she was delighted. She could picture Li Lan talking about her to her son, using “Xianghou” as her name. It meant she hadn’t forgotten her.

“Your mom was really smart back then, and her grades were great. Not like me—books gave me a headache.” Li Juxiang tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “When’s your mom coming back to visit?”

“My mom’s busy with work. She said she’ll come pick me up when she’s done.”

Liu Cuicui spoke up, “Mom, I’m taking Brother Yuanhou upstairs to play.”

“Okay, go ahead. Take good care of little Yuanhou.”

Liu Cuicui pulled Li Zhuiyuan along, and at the staircase, she deftly slipped off her shoes and put on a pair of slippers. Seeing this, Li Zhuiyuan started to take his shoes off too.

“No, Brother Yuanhou, you don’t have to. Just come up.”

Li Zhuiyuan still took his shoes off, planning to go up barefoot, so Liu Cuicui had to hand him her mom’s slippers to wear.

Wearing oversized slippers, Li Zhuiyuan followed Liu Cuicui up to the second floor and into her room, where a black-and-white television sat.

Liu Jinxia’s family had bought the TV long ago but kept it quiet. The villagers were cold to them, so she didn’t bother inviting people over to watch it.

Liu Cuicui turned on the standing electric fan, but the blades didn’t move. “Huh, is the power out?”

Li Zhuiyuan, “The plug’s not in.”

“Hey, you’re right!” Liu Cuicui bent down, picked up the plug, and inserted it into the wall socket:

“Buzz… buzz… buzz buzz… buzz buzz buzz—”

The heavy fan blades slowly started spinning, producing a heavenly sound that could blow away the midsummer heat.

“Brother Yuanhou, do you want to watch TV?”

“Either way’s fine.”

Liu Cuicui turned on the TV and twisted the dial. After one full turn, there were only a few channels, half of them just snowy static.

“Jing Gege, are you okay?”

“Rong’er, I’m fine.”

“Hmph, Ouyang Feng, you—”

Every winter and summer break, the TV would reliably play The Legend of the Condor Heroes.

The two sat on the edge of the bed watching TV for a bit. Suddenly, Li Zhuiyuan felt sleepy.

He hadn’t rested since last night, overwhelmed by tension before. Now that his emotions were settling, exhaustion hit him fast.

Liu Cuicui thought he didn’t want to watch TV, so she got off the bed and started showing Li Zhuiyuan her room’s stuffed dolls, toys, and picture books.

Though very tired, Li Zhuiyuan still looked at her, trying hard to respond to each of her introductions.

The little girl was immersed in the joy of sharing, but soon she noticed she wasn’t hearing responses anymore. Turning to the bed, she saw Li Zhuiyuan had leaned sideways against the edge, fast asleep.

Liu Cuicui immediately stopped talking. She crept over lightly, carefully helped Li Zhuiyuan lie flat, folded the thin summer blanket, and placed it over his stomach.

Next, she pushed the fan closer, pressed the small button on its back, and the fan started oscillating.

After doing all this, she pulled over a chair, sat by the bed, propped her face in her hands, and watched the sleeping Li Zhuiyuan.

She’d look for a while, then giggle quietly, her earlobes turning red. She’d turn her face away, but after a moment, she couldn’t help looking back at him.

Time slipped by unnoticed.

“Xiao Cui Hou, Xiao Cui Hou, bring Xiao Yuanhou down for lunch,” came Li Juxiang’s call from downstairs.

Liu Cuicui hurried down and told Li Juxiang, “Mom, Brother Yuanhou’s asleep.”

“Then come eat first. We’ll save some food for him.”

“No, I’m not hungry. I want to wait for Brother Yuanhou to wake up and eat with him.”

Most parents in the village with any sense would stop their kids from going to play with friends around mealtime, worried they’d get invited to eat and it’d look like they were mooching.

But sometimes it was unavoidable, and you’d end up at the table anyway.

Liu Cuicui had never experienced that. She wanted to wait for Li Zhuiyuan to wake up and eat with him.

Li Juxiang smiled, nodded, and went to the living room to call her mother and the card players to lunch.

Liu Cuicui ran back upstairs, sat back in her spot, and kept watching Li Zhuiyuan.

“Huh?”

Liu Cuicui leaned closer, a bit puzzled, because she noticed Brother Yuanhou’s brow was furrowed.

“Is he dreaming?”

(Continue in Next Part)