17.
That day, the sky was overcast and cold, and not a breath of wind stirred the air.
When six police officers entered the lobby on the first floor of the old funeral home, their faces were grave. The director came out to greet them in person.
Even though someone had warned him the police were coming, the director’s expression still changed.
After exchanging greetings with the officers, the director glanced at Lâm Công to signal him.
But as he looked away, he shot me a warning glance, too.
Lâm Công quietly slipped through the crowd and hurried toward the abandoned cemetery.
“Officers, is there anything you need our help with?”
The man leading them was tall and in his forties. “Yeah. Director, would you mind showing us around?”
The director smiled ingratiatingly. “Of course.”
“How come Officer Trương isn’t here today?”
The tall officer glanced at the director. “Are you and young Trương close?”
“Oh, whenever there’s something to take care of, he’s usually the one who comes to let us know. So we know each other, that’s all.”
Faced with the officer’s questions, the director was slippery as an eel, never missing a beat.
Then the whole group went into the makeup room.
There were still two bodies lying there. I stood behind the crowd and watched the police investigate.
At the chief officer’s direction, two officers stayed in the makeup room to collect evidence, while the other four separated us for individual questioning.
A police officer led Lưu Trúc away. I clearly saw her hands trembling.
Those hands had never trembled when she brought down the scalpel.
And just before an officer led me away, the director suddenly whispered in my ear.
“Whatever they ask, you tell them. Everything was done according to the funeral home’s procedures. Otherwise, I guarantee you’ll end up worse off than we will!”
I knew the director was capable of doing that.
There were security cameras recording everything I’d done, and my crime was even worse than theirs, since I’d once disposed of my late girlfriend’s body.
The director surely had evidence of that, too.
So when the police questioned me, I said nothing—but I told them a different story.
18.
By the time they’d finished questioning all of us, Lâm Công had finally returned.
A group of officers immediately looked at him and asked where he’d been.
The question left Lâm Công stunned. He didn’t know how to answer.
The police didn’t press him further. Instead, they led us to the cemetery.
Seeing this, the director didn’t object. He even took the officers there himself.
We stopped at plot 201 in the Fu section.
The tombstone read: Lý Tử Mặc, died in 2016.
An officer pointed to the name on the tombstone and asked, “Who is this?”
The director smiled, but seemed relieved. “She was a former employee of ours. Maybe the atmosphere here was too much for the poor girl, and it affected her mental health. One day, she collapsed while working.”
Lưu Trúc added, “Afterward, her parents came and accepted 100,000 yuan in compensation. Then we held a funeral for Tử Mặc.”
I followed the officer’s pointing hand and stared at the name on the tombstone. Suddenly, I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, and the director’s words came back to me.
“You’re very clever. Not like the others…”
I took a deep breath, understood what was going on, stepped forward, and raised my hand.
19.
Back in college, Lý Tử Mặc used to say to me, “Let’s get married after we graduate.”
I ruffled her short hair. “Sure!”
I was a year ahead of her. After graduating, I moved to the city for work.
After she graduated, she went to work at a funeral home in a county town.
The director, Lưu Trúc, and Lâm Tiếu had been working together to commit crimes for years. Everything had gone perfectly.
That is, until Lý Tử Mặc arrived. She happened to discover them stealing organs from corpses, and without discussing it with me, she went straight to the director and demanded that they turn themselves in.
Would the director confess?
Of course not.
What about Lưu Trúc?
And Lâm Tiếu?
None of them would confess.
What would they do?
They’d kill her to keep her quiet.
Lưu Trúc was a half-trained doctor, and she had a drug that could make someone look as if they’d died suddenly. The three of them plotted to kill Lý Tử Mặc, then lied to everyone, saying she was mentally unstable and had been making baseless accusations lately.
Lý Tử Mặc’s parents were farmers, and on top of that, people already gossiped that their daughter’s line of work was shady.
So they believed everything.
By the time I came back, she had been cremated and buried.
I would never stroke that smooth, short hair again.
My parents urged me to stop dwelling on it, but I couldn’t believe Tử Mặc would be frightened by something so absurd.
So I came here.
To get close to the three of them.
I had prepared everything I’d say in advance. If anyone asked why I’d come, I’d say I wanted to make money, to earn their trust.
Of course, how could that old fox trust me right away?
If he pressed me, I’d say I’d killed someone and had another reason for coming here: to dispose of a body.
The old fox believed me then, believing what he’d suspected and probed until he uncovered it.
People are always so sure of themselves.
But even so, he didn’t truly consider me one of them.
Not unless he had proof that I’d committed a crime.
For example, security footage of what I’d done to the body, or a secretly recorded video of me disposing of it by pouring out the ashes.
I had no way to get out of the first one. I could only go along with it.
But for the second, all I did was pour out a jar of incense ash.
20.
I stood in plot 201 in the Fu section, looking at the director’s face and the disgusting tumor under his neck.
How could I let the police be led astray like this? I wasn’t going to let them get away with it.
Even if the director released the video of me touching the body, I’d still make them pay.
I stepped forward.
“Officer, I saw another grave with the same name in the abandoned cemetery behind the funeral home.”
The director shot me a vicious look, but when he glanced at Lâm Tiếu, he let out a quiet breath of relief.
I pretended not to notice.
The officer asked me, “The same name as on this grave?”
“Yes. Lý Tử Mặc.”
The desolate scene along the way made the officers frown. When I pointed to a bare grave with no lettering and said it was Lý Tử Mặc’s, the curiosity in their eyes gave way to suspicion of me.
“I examined this grave closely. Even though the lettering has faded, you can still make out the three characters Lý Tử Mặc.”
The expression onThe police were no longer as sure of themselves as before, but they still called someone in to collect evidence.
But when I looked closer, I realized the earth beneath this grave had been disturbed.
I immediately looked toward the director, only to see the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Could it be?
Just as I was about to look for someone else, he came over on his own.
“Comrade Officer, follow me.”
Uncle Mộc, who was mute, had spoken.
Uncle Mộc led us to another secluded spot in the abandoned cemetery.
There stood another upright grave, also unmarked.
“This is Lý Tử Mặc’s grave. I buried him with my own hands.”
When Uncle Mộc spoke, everyone stared at him in astonishment.
Following the direction of his hand, I saw a crooked line of writing where the headstone met the earth: “Died in 2017, Lý Tử Mặc.”
The director’s eyes went wide. The tumor on his neck trembled, betraying his fear.
“Those three killed Lý Tử Mặc. After they had him cremated, they told me to deal with the ashes.”
Uncle Mộc spoke haltingly in a thick local accent.
“I know I’m guilty, Comrade Officer. Please arrest me.”
The director’s eyes bloodshot, he lunged at Uncle Mộc and punched him in the face. Everyone tried to stop him, but it was too late—Uncle Mộc’s face was already bleeding.
“You filthy beggar, how dare you betray me!”
Uncle Mộc wiped the blood from his face, his eyes fixed on the director.
Just as we were wondering what Uncle Mộc would say next, he grabbed the shovel beside him and swung it hard at the director’s face.
The director’s face instantly became horrifying to look at.
Because along with the blood, pus from the ruptured tumor ran down his neck and dripped onto his shirt.
Disgusting.
No one spoke. Everyone stared silently at the director’s face, until suddenly a piercing scream shattered the silence.
We turned to look. Lưu Trúc was sitting on the ground, covering her eyes, with a little blood seeping between her fingers.
A black cat leaped past beside her.
21.
The police couldn’t find any trace of poison in the ashes.
But based on my testimony and Uncle Mộc’s, along with the statements they obtained by questioning the other three, they still convicted them.
Just as I’d expected, the director immediately shifted the blame onto me, saying I was the real mastermind.
But my laptop had been on the whole time, with its recording function always running. It had captured evidence that the director had been the mastermind for years.
All three were sentenced to life in prison.
I still had to stay in the detention center for a while.
After I got out, I asked Uncle Mộc why he had hidden Lý Tử Mặc’s ashes.
Uncle Mộc gave me a bitter smile.
“At first, I pretended to be mute to gain people’s sympathy. Later, I helped the director with a few things, and I had to keep pretending.”
“And why did you betray him?”
Uncle Mộc lifted his head and closed his eyes, like a prisoner in hell who had finally been set free.
“Maybe because the director let me live, but Lý Tử Mặc made me feel that I was alive.”
Tử Mặc, I made those people confess for you.
—THE END—