Chapter 80: Enmity and Mist Amidst Healing

“Scapegoat?” Huzi’s eyes widened.

“Mmm, that young man is definitely not an ordinary doctor. There must be something hidden behind all this,” came the reply.

Upon hearing this, Huzi slammed his fist on the table. “Damn it! That bastard dared to set me up!”

Old Liao picked up his jacket. “Let’s go, let’s pay a visit to the Municipal Hospital.”

“Brother Liao, no need for thanks between us. If you can help me solve this, you can pick any of my collections!” Huzi grinned broadly.

“It’s not really about the antiques. I just genuinely enjoy helping people…” Old Liao’s face flushed as he made his promise.

...

Noon, Yue’nan Municipal People’s Hospital.

“What? You don’t have such a doctor here?!” Huzi’s booming voice echoed through the hospital, drawing annoyed glances from those nearby.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere, he lowered his voice and said, “Head nurse, could you please check again? See if you can find this person.” Huzi held up a blurry photo, seemingly taken secretly the first time the young man had visited the antique shop.

“There really isn’t anyone like this among our official staff. I’m not sure about outsourced workers. Are you the patient’s family? Please, don’t get agitated. Let’s talk things through. Our medical staff always try to do the best for the patients,” the head nurse explained nervously, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she stared at the burly Huzi.

She must have mistaken us for troublemaking relatives.

“So what do we do now?” Huzi slumped into a corridor chair, looking utterly defeated.

“Should we try the morgue?” Hu Ji suddenly suggested.

Huzi and I hesitated but nodded, while Old Liao started to grumble.

“This is just too unlucky. Can’t we avoid it?”

“Good question. No, we can’t.”

Dragging Old Liao along, we hurried toward the elevator.

The Yue’nan Municipal People’s Hospital is enormous—there are four main buildings, not to mention the inpatient wards. We were in the first building, and the morgue was on the basement level.

The hospital’s registration system for the morgue is very strict. At the front desk, only a nurse and a security guard were present.

The nurse was watching a livestream, occasionally giggling, while the security guard was playing cards on his phone.

During the day, unless something unexpected happened, their work was fairly easy, so they usually just idled away the hours.

When we explained our request, they firmly refused to let us into the morgue.

“Well then, sir, have you seen this person?” I took the photo from Huzi and handed it to the security guard.

The guard, a man in his early fifties with graying hair and a deeply lined face, looked at the picture.

“Oh, that’s Xiao Li. He took some extended leave a few days ago and hasn’t come back yet.”

We were delighted and quickly pressed for Xiao Li’s address and phone number before hurrying out.

...

As we left the hospital, Hu Ji said, “I have something to deal with. You go ahead—I’ll catch up with you later.”

He hurried off alone.

The three of us didn’t say much. Although Hu Ji was the most capable among us, we were only going to see a security guard—nothing should go wrong.

Soon, we arrived at Xiao Li’s apartment building.

It was an old residential block, the kind you see in the earliest urban redevelopment projects. Despite its age, many people still lived there. The doors and windows were of the traditional kind—no metal security doors, just a wooden door inside and a screen door outside.

Knock, knock, knock—Old Liao rapped on the iron door.

There was no answer, but I thought I heard faint sounds from inside.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Old Liao, growing impatient, knocked harder.

With a creak, the wooden door opened behind the iron one, and a shifty-looking young man peered out.

He eyed us, his gaze lingering on the towering Huzi behind us. Suddenly, his face flashed with alarm, and he spun around to close the door.

“Open up! If you don’t, I’ll kick it down!” Huzi shouted, slamming his fist against the iron door. The heavy blow echoed ominously.

Startled, Xiao Li hesitated but eventually opened the door.

As soon as the door opened, Huzi lunged inside, grabbing Xiao Li by the collar and pinning him against the wall. “Why did you set me up?!”

Xiao Li’s panic only grew; his eyes darted about, finally settling on the inner room.

Noticing this, I nodded to Old Liao, and together we kicked open the inner door.

Red lights flickered and smoke drifted through the air.

Inside was a small altar!

Xiao Li must have some nerve—he actually set up candles and an altar in his bedroom. Didn’t he find it terrifying to get up at night for the bathroom?

But the altar was crude, nothing like the ones we’d seen for worshipping Guman Thong dolls. Even the arrangement of offerings was wrong—a clear sign of an amateur’s handiwork.

Huzi stood in the doorway, releasing Xiao Li, who staggered and fell to his knees.

“All right, explain. What’s the story behind that jade cicada? And what are those offerings?” I asked, folding my arms.

Cornered, Xiao Li turned and crawled on all fours to Huzi’s side.

“Brother, I’m sorry! I never meant to harm you. I was desperate—please, forgive me! Or… you can beat me up if you want…”

His sudden actions startled us all; he clutched Huzi’s pant leg, leaving Huzi both irritated and amused.

“Wait, look at what’s on his altar!” Old Liao exclaimed behind me. I turned and saw the altar covered with a dense mass of cicada shells!

The sight was enough to make one’s scalp tingle. What was the story with the jade cicada, and why was Xiao Li conducting such a ritual?

“Speak! Where did that jade cicada come from?”

...

“Here’s what happened…” Xiao Li began.

It turned out, Xiao Li wasn’t a doctor at all, just a security guard responsible for transporting bodies and liaising with the crematorium. His job required him to shuttle between both places. He also handled unidentified corpses, escorting them to the crematorium. Being sociable, he maintained good relationships on both sides.

Half a month ago, a massive traffic accident occurred on the highway. Rain made the roads slick, causing a pileup involving more than a dozen vehicles and resulting in seven deaths—a headline event in the city.

Those seven died on the spot; when they were brought to the hospital, their bodies were mangled beyond hope. After a simple cleaning, they were sent to the morgue.

Xiao Li was on duty that day.

Usually a decent guy, Xiao Li couldn’t help but wonder if these unclaimed bodies had anything of value on them. But he was disappointed—there was nothing.

Several days passed, and some corpses remained unclaimed. Apparently, they were migrant workers with no local relatives. With no one to claim them, the police and hospital agreed to send them to the crematorium for death certificates and eventual cremation.

It was a routine case, with everything following standard procedure. It happened to fall on Xiao Li’s shift, and with a staff shortage, he was assigned to help coordinate between the hospital and the crematorium.

Xiao Li took his job seriously and quickly arranged for a hearse to transport the seven bodies.

He was well-acquainted with the crematorium staff. Despite the gloomy reputation, the positions were stable and the official employees had good hours—no night shifts, just a few contract workers left to guard the storerooms and cremation chambers.

That day, Xiao Li was greeted by Old Liu from the crematorium—a notorious scoundrel, fond of gambling and women, unmarried, and hardly a model citizen, but loyal to his friends.

He and Xiao Li were close, and sometimes Xiao Li would stay to play cards during shifts.

They chatted idly.

“So these are the ones from the car crash?” Old Liu asked.

“That’s right. A lot of deaths,” Xiao Li replied.

“A shame. Lives lost, cars wrecked. Look at me—I haven’t even owned a car yet.” Old Liu scratched his head and chuckled.

“Maybe if you didn’t blow every paycheck on cards and bathhouses, you’d have enough,” Xiao Li often scolded him, but it never helped.

“Hey, life’s short. You have to enjoy it while you can, you know? Got any money? Lend me two hundred!” Old Liu grinned.

Muttering, Xiao Li pulled two hundred-yuan notes from his pocket and handed them over. Old Liu returned the handover slip and said, “You’re a good man, brother. I’ve got a bottle of baijiu stashed in the duty room. Let’s have a drink when we fire up the furnace later!”

“Tonight? There’s no one to help you out…” Xiao Li was surprised—they’d just finished the handover and Old Liu wanted to cremate the bodies right away.

Old Liu, already a bit drunk, waved him off. “What’s there to be afraid of? The higher-ups want them burned tomorrow, but what’s the difference doing it tonight? This way the families won’t be shocked seeing the cremation.”

Unable to argue, Xiao Li figured it wasn’t his responsibility and agreed to stay for some food and drink.

At this point, Xiao Li paused and asked us, “Have you ever heard of ‘corpse sitting up’?”