Chapter 0065 The Spirit Bone Tower
A few days later, Frank Fang and Arjan Pai arrived in Shenyang by plane. I had to give up on the hospital visits and endured the pain to pick them up at the airport. When Frank saw my face, he was shocked. His first question was whether I had seduced a decent woman and been beaten by her husband. Feeling helpless, I explained the real reason. Frank said, "Spirits harming humans happens from time to time. It's fortunate Arjan Pai is here; he can help exorcise the spirit from Sun Xicai while he's at it."
I sucked air through my teeth in hesitation. Frank added, "I'll see if I can get the Master to give you a discount. Don't be so stingy with your money anymore; your own safety is what matters!" I reluctantly agreed.
In the afternoon, Wang Jiao called me while Sun Xicai was in the shower. She said Xicai had been very cold toward her lately and asked what she should do. I told her not to overthink it—men have their bad days just like women, and she should just avoid provoking him. She asked where I was, and I casually mentioned that an Arjan Master had come from Thailand to handle a spirit matter for a client.
At exactly midnight that evening, Arjan Pai performed the soul-calling ritual for Brother Jiang at his home. The process went smoothly. Over the next ten days, Brother Jiang's consciousness slowly returned, though he still spaced out occasionally. In this state, he couldn't drive, so he had to quit his job as a taxi driver and recuperate at home.
Sister-in-law Jiang was extremely reluctant when she handed the remaining 40,000 RMB to Frank. She was clearly dissatisfied with me, her eyes burning with a rage that suggested I was her mortal enemy. As the three of us walked out, we heard her splash a large basin of water out the door behind us. It seemed that in her eyes, I was nothing but a source of bad luck.
Frank told me that of the 80,000 RMB collected, 14,000 was our profit. Splitting it down the middle meant 7,000 RMB each. I felt like I had lost more than I gained; Brother Jiang was a good guy, but I certainly couldn't associate with him anymore—his wife wouldn't allow it. Frank sensed my thoughts and advised, "Don't mourn the loss of people like his wife. The fewer clients like that, the better!"
Still, I found it hard to let go. Although greed played a part, there were many chances to avoid the disaster if certain people hadn't played negative roles—including Brother Jiang himself. If the day-shift driver hadn't been so malicious, if Jiang's temper hadn't been so short, if his wife hadn't been so greedy...
There were too many "ifs," but life only follows one track. As the saying goes, there is no medicine for regret. Within a month, I had experienced two instances of crossing into the netherworld. From then on, I never took a taxi for business at night.
Brother Jiang's matter was resolved. Though the deal made money, I considered it a loss. Because of the influence of the "Male Undead Spirit," my luck was low and I was easily haunted. It was a terrible feeling; I felt groggy all day. If I hadn't worn my seatbelt that night, I might have died in the crash alongside Brother Jiang.
I asked Frank to negotiate with Arjan Pai, and he eventually agreed to exorcise the spirit from Sun Xicai for 250,000 Thai Baht—about 50,000 RMB. It pained me to spend it, but since the Master was already here, I decided to go through with it. However, when I called Sun Xicai, he was traveling in Dandong with Wang Jiao, staying at a friend's house. He planned to return in half a month and asked if I could wait. Arjan Pai certainly wouldn't wait two weeks for one case, so we had to postpone it. Frank and the Master returned to Thailand.
The injuries on my face still hadn't healed, so I couldn't visit my cousin's factory. I refunded my ticket and continued going to the hospital. It took nearly half a month for the wounds to finally begin to recover.
During this time, I kept wondering why I, along with the half-dead Brother Jiang, had managed to cross into the netherworld and return safely. Recalling that night in the taxi when we couldn't find the road, I remembered feeling a wave of intense heat and stripping off my shirt. At that time, a specific spot on my back felt burning hot. Thinking back, wasn't that exactly where my Five Lines Sak Yant was tattooed? I went to the mirror, took off my shirt, and twisted my body to look. Yes, it was that spot. I surmised it was very likely the protection of the Five Lines tattoo that saved me.
One morning after breakfast, I was browsing news on my computer. I couldn't understand why the spirit of Zheng Yonggui, which was possessing Sun Xicai, would choose "lust" as his way of retaliating against me. Suddenly, I pulled up some old electronic editions of the Huashang Morning Post. One headline caught my eye: "Massive Amount of Urns Missing from Shenyang Crematorium Spirit Bone Tower."
I lay on the bed and started connecting the dots. With this news and the fact that Sun Xicai had bought many second-hand urns from a funeral supply shop, I guessed that Zheng Yonggui's urn must have been among those lost in that incident. The thieves likely sold the old urns cheaply to that shop, which Sun Xicai then purchased. Once the clues lined up, I felt a sudden urge to investigate this Zheng Yonggui.
To investigate, I had to go back to the Shenyang Crematorium. Mentioning that place reminded me of my midnight sleepwalking escape, which still gave me lingering fear. But it was noon now, and with the Yang energy at its peak, I had nothing to fear.
I hailed a taxi and arrived shortly. Inside the crematorium gates, the Spirit Bone Tower was just around the corner. On the second floor, two staff members were sitting at an office desk in the hall, chatting warmly over lunch.
I walked up and said, "Excuse me, I wanted to ask how to replace a lost ash storage certificate?"
One of the staff, a middle-aged woman, didn't look up and kept her smile from the conversation, saying casually, "Name of the deceased, ID number, cremation certificate, and a seventy-yuan fee!"
"The deceased's name is Zheng Yonggui. I forgot the number, and the cremation certificate is also lost," I replied.
She turned to look at me. "How do you lose everything?"
I smiled. "I'm a bit muddle-headed. How can we get a replacement?"
Her face turned cold. "You can't!"
I said, "By the way, was the issue with the missing urns resolved?"
Her expression turned nervous. "That... isn't that all in the past?"
I said, "How can it just be in the past? An urn costs hundreds of yuan, and the ashes just disappeared. You have to give us an explanation!"
The male staff member beside her chimed in, "Brother, the police are still investigating that. No results yet." I feigned anger, asking how many years it would take. The woman clearly wanted to change the subject and told me to look for the slot in the tower, asking if I remembered where it was. I said I might, so she led me into the Spirit Bone Tower.
The last time I was here was in the dead of night. Now, in broad daylight, I felt a bit disoriented. I found the general area from memory. As I was worrying about the specific row, I smiled inwardly because I saw a wooden shelf with a clear, large crack. I walked over and sure enough, found the slot with "Zheng Yonggui" on it. I asked, "Sister, why is this shelf cracked? Was there an earthquake?"
She said angrily, "What earthquake? That thief who steals urns came back a while ago and pushed the shelf over. Several people chased him but couldn't catch him!"
"How wicked, stealing even urns!" I said with feigned indignation.
"You're telling me," she muttered while noting down the ID number. We walked out of the tower, and she pulled a large ledger from a cabinet. She pointed to a line and said, "Sign here and write 'Request for replacement certificate.' Though... you're just replacing the certificate, you don't actually have the ashes anymore."
I said, "That's fine. I'll buy a new urn and put some of my grandfather's old belongings in it."
She let out a long sigh and looked at the man. He said, "Brother, we have urns for sale here. Why don't you take a look? They aren't expensive, and I'll give you the best discount." I nodded and pulled the ledger toward me. It was a registration log. Behind the ID number was Zheng Yonggui's name, the storage date, the family member's name, and a string of digits—a cell phone number. I signed under the family member's name and quietly memorized the phone number.
She held out her hand. "Seventy yuan."
I said, "Sure, my bag is in the car downstairs. I'll get it right now." I turned, went downstairs, and when no one was looking, I jogged out of the crematorium and took a taxi back. I didn't go home but found a public payphone and dialed the number. A man answered. I asked, "This is the Shenyang Crematorium. Are you Mr. Zheng? What is your relationship to Zheng Yonggui?" The man said he was Zheng Yonggui's son. I claimed to be a staff member verifying the urn theft incident.
As soon as I said that, the man started cursing: "Verifying my ass! The urn was lost in your crematorium. Never mind that you haven't paid compensation—where are we supposed to find the missing ashes?"