Late at night at the funeral home, the newly arrived female corpse suddenly opened her eyes. The forensic doctor was so frightened that she collapsed to the ground, but I picked up the suture needle, pressed the corpse spot on her forehead and said softly: "Don't move, the Feng Shui painting on your coffin has not been completed yet."
They all thought that I was just a trainee undertaker, but they didn't know that my left hand was sewing corpse skin and my right hand was cutting off the yin and yang. The "Burial Scripture" passed down by the Pei family is full of ways to make the dead behave.
From the century-old corpse with its eyes open in the morgue, to the headless bride that had been soaked in the river for thirty years, to the pit of thousands of bones buried under the funeral parlor, the secrets of the morgue are more exciting than the criminal investigation files. And the head of the serious case team who chased me and called me "Master" didn't know that the knife I used to dissect the ghost had been quenched in the corpse water tank for three years.
This city is full of innocent souls who refuse to close their eyes, so don't blame me for using their bones to play a game of chess that no living person can understand.
