Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 00: The Woman Who Hanged Herself (Part Three)
Although I was young and the two children of Peng Caifu looked at me with disdain and disbelief, my words still made their faces flush with embarrassment. They could not leave and had to step forward under Peng Caifu's intense gaze.
Peng Hai was slightly bolder, while the girl named Yan Zi turned her face away, focusing on her brother's back as she leaned closer.
Logically, when a loved one passes away, one should feel sorrow rather than fear.
Even if she was Hanging by a Beam, she was still their mother, wasn't she?
As I watched Peng Caifu leave, I began to undress the deceased. Her seemingly curled body and tightly clenched fists, along with her bent arms, gradually relaxed under my prayers. The arms softened, the fists opened, revealing dirt lodged beneath her purplish nails. The veins against her ashen skin looked like intricate threads.
As I removed the deceased's clothing, my hand inadvertently brushed against her skin. Her cold body felt slick, as if coated with a layer of oil similar to that of human skin.
"Go fetch some water and bring back two new towels," I instructed.
Yan Zi went out to get water. I looked at the deceased, who resembled a bundle of dry twigs—skin stretched tightly over bones, emaciated beyond recognition.
"When we bathe your mother later, make sure not to cry. Don't let your tears fall on her," I added unnecessarily; given their demeanor, how could they possibly cry?
When Yan Zi returned with the water, I guided them—one to support the head and the other to wipe her body.
At first, Yan Zi was quite resistant. With her brother holding up their mother's head, she reluctantly wiped her mother's face but did so haphazardly.
I cleared my throat. "That won't do; be more serious."
Yan Zi shot me an annoyed glance, raising an eyebrow before wiping their mother's face more carefully. As her hand passed over the bulging eyes, she trembled uncontrollably like a leaf in the wind. Suddenly, she screamed in terror and fell onto the ground, wide-eyed as she stared at her mother: "Mom... Mom's eyes are moving."
"It's not that her eyes are moving; it's blood that's flowing." Seeing the Blood Tears made the boy tense up as he looked up in alarm, his entire body rigid. He shivered involuntarily. I reminded him gently and took out a piece of pristine white paper, deftly wiping away the Blood Tears that had trickled down.
The deceased's unexpected shedding of Blood Tears was not without reason.
This seems to be related to familial bonds. The deceased has passed away, and relatives come to bathe and pay their respects. Naturally, blood-like fluid begins to seep from the deceased's seven orifices.
Stripping her of all her clothes, her entire body is revealed—an ugly, foul-smelling shell, weighing no more than a few kilograms.
I had Peng Hai support the lifeless head of the deceased. It needed to be held up because her head was limp, lacking any strength like that of a newborn baby, tilting awkwardly in various directions. Her eyelids, barely open, continued to ooze blood. The grayish skin was cold and clammy; no matter how you looked at it, it was enough to make one’s scalp tingle and was difficult to bear.
Noticing that she had not been dead for long, I observed some star-like dark blood clots forming under her skin, resembling coagulated blood or bruises that hadn’t faded. When I touched them, they didn’t change much. This might have been caused by her illness; I heard my grandfather say that those who are sick often take a lot of medicine, and when burned to ashes, they are black.
After all, medicine can be toxic in excess; taking too much can lead to toxins accumulating in the body’s marrow.
As I examined the corpse so closely, Yan Zi remarked irritably, “Are you sure you chose the right profession? You should be a coroner.”
To be honest, I had seen many dead bodies before, but serving this Hanging Woman up close made me feel weak all over; a chill ran down my neck. If it weren’t for the two children of the family being present, I would have run off to smoke a cigarette and calm my nerves.
Yan Zi handed me a towel. I quickly dipped it in the basin and wrung it out before using it to wipe down the body from head to toe—her hair, face, ears, then her neck, chest, and limbs. To them, I appeared very professional and skilled in my movements, meticulous even; yet inside, I still felt uneasy.
I was just afraid of making a mistake!
Fortunately, both of them buried their dissatisfaction deep within; outwardly they showed no objections. Under my instructions, they did whatever needed to be done. Especially Yan Zi, who kept casting furtive glances at me—those kind of secretive looks that made me aware of her scrutiny. Whenever I caught her gaze, she would hurriedly look away.
Clearing my throat seriously, I asked, “What illnesses did your mother have?” As I spoke, my fingers unconsciously brushed against the back of the deceased's head and noticed severe hair loss there along with slight discoloration on the scalp indicating damage.
The texture under my fingers felt hard; it seemed like dried blood clots but didn’t quite resemble them.
Logically speaking, hair doesn’t just fall out in clumps unless the patient has undergone chemotherapy.
“Diabetes, gallstones, and emphysema…” Peng Hai replied. His face was covered with acne; some were dark and enlarged from him picking at them until they bled—he had turned into this after eating soy sauce.
I remembered being around fourteen or fifteen myself; at that age, hormones run rampant. Emotions are unstable—rebelliousness and irritability abound—and there is an intense curiosity and longing towards the opposite sex.
Hearing about Peng Hai's ailments, none of them required chemotherapy, and these conditions were not life-threatening; they merely drained physical and financial resources. So, how did a patch of scalp go missing, and where had the hair gone? "Alright, that's enough," I interrupted Peng Hai, preparing cotton balls to fill the deceased's orifices completely. Then I placed a yellow paper over her face and explained the procedure for dressing the dead.
Dressing the deceased has its rituals.
It must be done by a close relative of the deceased, who puts each piece of clothing on inside out, aligning the sleeves and shoulders. The living person must hold the deceased's hands while facing each other to put on the clothes.
The same goes for putting on pants; both hands go through the pant legs, grasping the deceased's feet. The pants are pulled up to the deceased's hips, and then the living person lifts the hips to position the waistband correctly.
As I explained this, Yan Zi's face turned dark and sullen.
"Peng Hai, you are her beloved son; you should dress her."
"Sister, that's not fair. She worked hard at the sewing machine to earn money for your tuition. You used so much of her money; it's only right that you dress her."
"What money did I use from her? You had to pay a fine for being born, and you had food and drink that was better than mine. I've never even had milk; you have it all the time."
"You went from middle school to agricultural university; wasn't that all funded by her late-night sewing?"
Watching the two siblings argue over who should dress their deceased mother was quite shocking, especially in front of her body. I spoke in a low voice, "Enough arguing. Prepare twelve hundred; I'll take on the role of a filial grandson."
"Twelve hundred? You... that's too much..." Peng Yan stomped her foot in anger.
Peng Hai sneered, "If you don't want to spend money, then you can dress Mom yourself."
"Stop arguing! Go prepare me a red envelope," I said coldly, suppressing my irritation.
Peng Yan shot a glare at her brother, rolled her eyes at me, and stormed out in a huff.
Peng Hai stayed behind. He glanced at his deceased mother and then at me. "Master, whatever you need me to do, I'll cooperate."
"Alright, I'll do as you say."
Peng Hai nodded and stepped forward, lowering his voice. "You teach me how to do it, and later when my sister gives the Red Envelope, we'll split it."
I could only be speechless. Under my guidance, Peng Hai grasped the essentials, but even so, cold sweat was dripping from his acne-covered face. His hands trembled uncontrollably, and it wasn't until he bit down hard to focus and complete everything that he finally let out a long sigh of relief.
Sure enough, when the Red Envelope from Peng Yan was brought over, Peng Hai stared at me intently, eagerly signaling with his eyes as I took the Red Envelope.
Goodness, this guy is something else.
Next, the Eight Great Warriors from the village arrived. Four strong men lifted the thoroughly cleaned body and carried it to the main room. The other four took care of some aftermath tasks, clearing out the dirty items in the house—clothes and mosquito nets were all tossed onto the Host Family's Roof.
Once everything was set up in the main room, I stuffed a Rice Ball into the deceased's hand. As I did so, I cursed inwardly: "What a miser! Even in death, they can't bear to spend money on renting an Ice Coffin. Just leaving the body in the main room like this—aren't they afraid wild cats or dogs will disturb it?"
Comment 0 Comment Count