Here is the full translation of Chapter 3 of 奉身 into English:
Chapter 3: The People in the Temple
Lin Qishan received the anonymous delivery just before the rain stopped.
The envelope was old, as if it had been pulled out of some forgotten corner, its edges soft and crumpled, with the faint, blurry mark of "Internal Network Transfer Seal."
He didn't open it immediately.
He stood on the balcony of his rented apartment, smoking a cigarette. The city before him resembled a pot of soup that had been left too long on the stove, the foam not yet cleaned, and the air carrying a sour smell. Outside the window, the roof of a construction materials market could be seen, with a plastic money cat swaying in the wind. It seemed to nod at him, as though reminding him that his wasted life was down to its last breath.
The cigarette burned down to his fingertips, and only then did he tear open the package.
Inside were two items: a copy of an old case file, marked "No. 0024 Criminal Case Related to the Cult," and a blurry photo of a woman whose face was unrecognizable. On the back of the photo was a scrawled message in red ink: "They all forgot, but I'm still here."
He stared at the message for a few seconds, as if staring at a sharp blade that had once cut him years ago. It didn't matter whether it hurt anymore—it was just instinct that made him nauseous.
He stuffed the documents into the bottom drawer of his desk. Then, he turned and went downstairs to his night shift.
The city's night was even brighter than the day, but the people were quieter.
Lin Qishan now worked at a company called "Qinghe Data," a seemingly legitimate but actually marginal outsourcing company that handled public sentiment control. His desk was near the end of the hallway, right next to a broken air conditioning vent. Whenever the system overheated, it would spew hot air that smelled faintly of rust.
His job was to remove "sensitive phrases" from the platform, including but not limited to religious terms, regional labels, number combinations, and repetitive words used in a rhythmic manner.
Tonight, his task list had 23 items, most of which were routine—terms like "incense offering," "donor," "merit exchange," and even "spiritual eggs." He deleted them one by one, his gaze dull, his actions steady, like someone repeatedly cutting frozen meat with a dull knife.
Then, when he got to the 17th item, his hand suddenly froze.
It was an old audio link, named with only six letters and numbers: XGCI-0024.
He blinked, clicked on the audio, and a faint female voice came through, as if whispering from around a corner: "I'm still here… Don't forget me…"
Then there was a long string of white noise, like something had been thrown into water but didn't create any bubbles.
His finger paused on the mouse, and he didn't continue.
"Stuck on keywords again?" A voice came from behind. It was He Qizhou, his colleague on the night shift. He was younger than him, and looked like the type who could find his way out of any public opinion storm.
"Just an old word popped up," Lin Qishan replied nonchalantly.
"You didn't click on 0024, did you?" He Qizhou lowered his voice suddenly. "That thing was locked up years ago. It's said to be related to the Xiangci case."
Lin Qishan didn't respond.
"You don't know, do you?" He Qizhou chuckled, lifting a file from the corner of his desk. "After the incident, all the relevant accounts and word databases were moved to the special review archives. That fire really did burn people—seven women, they said their spiritual practices failed and they all went mad."
Lin Qishan stared at the screen, a dark weight pressing down in his eyes. He suddenly whispered, "Do you believe some things can't be erased?"
He Qizhou paused, then shrugged and laughed. "I only believe in money and clean-up orders."
The next afternoon, Lin Qishan went to the site of the old Xiangci shelter. It had now been renamed "Spiritual Healing Valley," and a marble arch stood at the entrance, reading: "Offering incense for every wandering soul."
He didn't go inside.
When he circled around to the side door, he saw a woman sitting on a long bench outside the laundry room, wearing a blue work uniform and sewing a torn towel. Her skin was pale, and there was an old scar around her neck, like something had been tied tightly around it. When someone approached, she would quickly hide her hands, and her eyes would instinctively drop to the ground.
He stood there for a while, and the woman seemed to notice something. She looked up at him for a brief moment.
Her gaze was neither pleading nor fearful. It was more like an animal assessing the wind.
Lin Qishan nodded politely. She didn't respond but simply put the towel she had been sewing into a cloth bag and turned to enter the laundry room. Just before the door closed, he heard her murmur, "Don't take pictures of me… I'm afraid the gods will take my photo away."
His stomach suddenly felt cold.
On the way back, he turned into a narrow alley. The alley wasn't wide, but at the end, there was a crowd gathered. He had thought someone had fainted again, but then the crowd suddenly parted, and a man was shoved out, covered in blood. He bumped into Lin Qishan's shoulder, and Lin Qishan sidestepped, almost slipping and falling.
"Catch him—he robbed the donation box from the healing station!" someone yelled from the crowd.
When Lin Qishan looked up, he saw three young men in work uniforms chasing after him. He didn't have time to think and was about to leave when someone grabbed his arm from behind.
"Are you with him?" The man pulled out a baton.
Lin Qishan's gaze grew cold, and without answering, he quickly raised his hand to block the strike, then used his feet to push the man away. The man stumbled and hit the wall. Lin Qishan took a step back and withdrew his gaze like the wind brushing across an empty field.
The scene was quickly controlled by nearby patrol officers. No one questioned his actions, and no one asked who he was. The young men in the work uniforms just glanced at him, as if they had memorized his face.
Back at the company that night, Lin Qishan opened the "XGCI-0024" audio again, only to find the link had expired. The system only displayed one message: "Content not authorized for inspection, automatically archived."
"Did you delete it?" he asked He Qizhou.
He Qizhou glanced at him, and then said, "If you ask again, I'll start thinking you actually want to find her."
Lin Qishan didn't respond. He flipped over the blurry photo on his desk, and there was a line of text written on the back:
"ID 0024, female believer, unidentified, death record suspicious."
He stared at the text for a moment, as if hearing an old dream whispering in his ear.
He Qizhou suddenly walked over, looking at the photo with some thought. "Huh, this woman… isn't she the one you deleted back then?"
Lin Qishan's gaze suddenly became sharp, like the wind had torn apart the landscape. He slowly looked up and realized a long-forgotten expression had returned to his face—fear.
(End of Chapter 3)
Summary of Chapter 3:
In this chapter, Lin Qishan uncovers a connection between the Xiangci shelter and a mysterious "0024" case. The case involves seven women who were victims of a spiritual practice gone wrong. Lin's investigation takes him to the shelter, where he meets a woman with ties to the number "0024." The deeper he delves, the more he realizes the complexity of the situation, and the dangerous forces behind it. The chapter ends with Lin facing unsettling truths about his own involvement and the web of secrecy surrounding the case.