The Hand of Confession – Chapter 133

Volume 5: Days of Applying Makeup to Corpses

Für Elise

The corpse is right at the funeral home’s entrance.

More than half an hour later, the Yaksha ceased its attack. However, it didn’t retreat into the mist but lurked at the funeral home’s entrance, ready to launch another assault at any moment.

The curtains fluttered wildly as cold winds blew one after another. Shen Maomao felt cold, hungry, tired, and scared, worse off than the little match girl [a reference to Hans Christian Andersen’s story “The Little Match Girl”].

Overwhelmed by anxiety, a sudden urge to urinate surged through her, almost bringing her to tears.

In this situation, who the h*ll would dare to go to the bathroom?!

The world returned to calm, the crickets in the grass chirping noisily, accompanied by the wailing sound of wind passing through the mountain’s hollows.

“Di-di, di-di, di-di, di-di-di…”

Shen Maomao was listening to the wind when suddenly a deafening mobile phone ringtone blared from the second floor, startling her into a shiver, and she immediately covered her ears.

The ringtone was the unique keypad sound of old mobile phones, and the melody was Beethoven’s “Für Elise”.

It rang three times in total, finally stopping with a “toot” sound.

Then, a commotion erupted in the hallway, and someone knocked on her door from outside.

Shen Maomao sat up instantly, looking towards the door under the moonlight, wishing her gaze could penetrate the door to see who was in the hallway.

“Who…” As soon as she opened her mouth, she realized her throat was terribly dry. She quickly swallowed twice and then asked, “Who is it?”

Luo Jingmo’s voice came from outside: “Something’s happened, come out quickly.”

Shen Maomao didn’t bother about her roommate, the big brother, anymore. She threw off the covers, walked to the door, turned on the light, and peeked outside through the door crack, saying, “Are you really Luo Jingmo?”

Luo Jingmo: “You’re quite cautious.”

Shen Maomao: “Better to sail the ship carefully to last a thousand years [小心駛得萬年船 | xiǎo xīn shǐ dé wàn nián chuán | idiom meaning caution ensures a secure future].”

Through the crack in the door, she could see outside, and the person indeed had Luo Jingmo’s face, but she still wasn’t reassured and asked Luo Jingmo to prove her identity.

Luo Jingmo’s temple veins throbbed, clearly extremely impatient.

She thought for a moment, then suddenly reached for the back of her neck, gently rubbing the tattoo-like pattern there.

The next second, a tingling electric current spread from the back of Shen Maomao’s neck through her entire body, making her shiver: “What the heck?! What’s going on?!”

Luo Jingmo didn’t explain; she impatiently tapped on the door with her fingers: “Hurry up and get out; they’ve already gone downstairs to gather in the cafeteria.”

“Alrighty.” Shen Maomao cheerfully opened the door, turned off the light, and took Luo Jingmo’s arm, “Lou-jie, what’s going on?” Luo Jingmo said: “San Huang said he has something to announce and asked everyone to gather in the cafeteria. It should be about the phone call.”

As they talked and walked downstairs, the Yaksha that had been inactive for a while seemed to catch the “scent of humans” and launched another continuous assault.

The ground shook, and Shen Maomao almost lost her balance and fell down the stairs.

Luo Jingmo caught her with one hand, shouting, “Be careful!”

Shen Maomao nodded.

The two stopped talking, mainly because nothing could be heard clearly now.

Walking through the funeral home courtyard, they came face to face with the terrifying giant face of the Yaksha. It swung its arm, the massive axe in its hand growing larger in Shen Maomao’s eyes until it finally crashed with a “thud” onto the milky-white protective shield in mid-air. The shield wobbled, and the sword of Damocles [a metaphor for imminent danger] hung over their heads.

Shen Maomao felt a pang of fear, and the urge to go to the bathroom intensified.

Luo Jingmo, without a word, grabbed her and started sprinting. Soon, the two caught up with the main group and squeezed into the cafeteria with the others.

The cafeteria lights were off, and the neatly arranged tables and chairs exuded a cold aura.

San Huang turned on the lights. The warm yellow glow slightly dispelled the cold air. The people who came in behind closed the door. The well-insulated glass door muffled the Yaksha’s roaring, making it sound distant.

He stood at the front of the crowd, surveying everyone present, and said, “There’s work to do.”

Shen Maomao was taken aback, feeling for a moment that she saw an NPC Huang Hongxing shadow in him. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, realizing it was just an illusion.

San Huang said, “I got a call in the middle of the night. On the other end was Huang Hongxing’s voice. He said there’s a deceased person named Wang Liang who needs to be taken to the funeral home, and we have to wait for the police to conduct an autopsy.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a man not far from him suddenly changed his expression.

However, no one paid attention to why he had such a drastic change in expression. The middle-aged auntie yawned widely and asked discontentedly, “Well, whoever’s job it is should go, right? Why call everyone over? To satisfy your bureaucratic cravings?”

San Huang glared at her: “What do you know? He said the body is right at the funeral home’s entrance. I felt something was off, so I called everyone over!”

The entrance?

Shen Maomao recalled the brief glimpse she had when she passed the entrance earlier, and it seemed she hadn’t seen anything resembling a corpse outside.

She looked at Luo Jingmo and found Luo Jingmo staring at a man with a deathly pale face, so she leaned in and asked softly, “Lou-jie? What are you looking at?” Luo Jingmo withdrew her gaze and said, “He’s very scared.”

Fear wasn’t unusual; everyone present was scared. But someone with a face as white as a sheet, whose teeth were chattering uncontrollably, was rare.

San Huang at the front of the crowd said, “What are you guys talking about back there? If you have something to say, why not bring it to the table?”

A group of people in front all turned their heads to look at them.

Shen Maomao: “We were saying you forgot to zip up your fly.”

So the group transformed into “fly watchers,” collectively staring at San Huang’s crotch.

San Huang reflexively covered his crotch with his hand, his face turning beet red, and he shot a resentful glare at Shen Maomao before turning around to zip up his fly.

Shen Maomao innocently said, “See, you told me to bring it to the table. We also wanted to discuss the color of your underwear, do we need to—”

“Shut up!” San Huang interrupted her, unable to bear it any longer, “Shameless!”

Luo Jingmo gave him a cold glance but said nothing.

Shen Maomao’s heart pounded with fear at her gaze; she knew Lou-jie was the kind who would act rather than talk. If left unchecked, San Huang might not see the next morning.

She quickly advised, “Lou-jie, calm down! It’s not worth it!”

Luo Jingmo lowered her gaze, remaining silent and expressionless, but it seemed San Huang’s life was spared for now.

After a minor commotion, San Huang said, “Where are the morticians? Get ready to go out and bring the body back.”

Guan Qiwen and Dao Ba stood up together. Guan Qiwen said, “We can go out, but that monster is still out there. As the leader, can you guarantee our safety?”

San Huang, flattered by the remark, almost forgot his own surname. With a wave of his hand, he said, “It’s just a trip to the entrance. You can wait until the giant ghost stops attacking to go out. It’s just carrying a corpse, how long could it take?”

It seemed he wasn’t quite at the point of truly forgetting, as he didn’t promise to ensure their safety. Instead, he said with a sarcastic smile, “Whether you go or not is up to you. Huang Hongxing is pressing for it. Go or don’t, it’s your choice.”

Guan Qiwen pursed his lips into a displeased arc but knew San Huang was right. They didn’t want to go out today but had no choice.

He looked around and asked, “Where’s the other one?”

The man Luo Jingmo had been watching earlier stood up, his face mournful, and said, “I can’t go…”

San Huang said, “Why are you special? Do you want those two to do the dangerous work while you stay in safety and reap the benefits?”

The man clutched his head, shaking it repeatedly, “No… I can’t go…”

After muttering a couple of times, he raised his head, his bloodshot eyes peering through the gap between his arms at San Huang, like a trapped beast in a cage. With all his strength, he let out one final roar, almost to the point of losing his voice, saying, “I am Wang Liang!”

The room erupted in shock.

Shen Maomao also widened her eyes and looked over as Wang Liang slowly crouched to the ground, clutching his head. All they could hear was his low sobbing.

“I will die… I don’t want to die…”

Shen Maomao gripped Luo Jingmo’s hand tightly. At some point, the Yaksha outside had stopped its assault, and the cafeteria fell into silence. Suddenly, Dao Ba grabbed the man’s arm and forcefully dragged him out.

No one foresaw his sudden action, and the man named Wang Liang began to struggle frantically.

Guan Qiwen was momentarily stunned but quickly stopped him: “What are you doing?”

“If he doesn’t go out, where are we supposed to get the corpse?!” Dao Ba’s eyes were dark, and his expression resolute. With great strength, he grabbed Wang Liang’s mid-length hair and slammed his head against the wall.

Wang Liang struggled desperately, cursing and yelling, but his voice weakened after several consecutive blows.

Guan Qiwen: “He’s a player, a living human being!”

Dao Ba’s face was gloomy: “It’s not like I haven’t killed before.”

The two sides reached a stalemate. Poor Wang Liang was finally spared further contact with the wall but lay dizzy on the ground, unable to get up for quite some time.

Shen Maomao was held firmly by Luo Jingmo; she bit her lip, her fists clenched tightly as she trembled all over, trying to withstand it.

Luo Jingmo said coldly, “Just manage yourself.”

Shen Maomao, like a balloon that had been pricked, suddenly deflated. Her eyes glistened with tears, and she quickly wiped them with the back of her hand, leaving a transparent streak.

Luo Jingmo’s heart softened instantly. She pulled Shen Maomao into her arms, gently rubbing the back of her head, and softly comforted her: “This is a question of whether one dies or three do. You have no right to make that decision for them.”

Shen Maomao sniffled, “I know…” She just really hated this feeling of powerlessness, being unable to do anything.

Over there, Dao Ba also expressed a similar view: “If he doesn’t die, we won’t be able to complete the mission. Then it won’t just be about him dying; you, me, and even the person who was originally supposed to die, we’ll all be done for together!”

He hoisted Wang Liang over his shoulder, looked at Guan Qiwen, and said, “If you want to die, don’t drag me along. Since you’re so unwilling, I’ll carry him back myself later, and you can stay outside and commit suicide to atone for your sins.”

---

---