My Ten Years as a Lampkeeper

When I was nineteen years old, I worked the night shift at a county funeral home. At that time I didn't believe in ghosts and gods, I just believed that wages were paid according to heaven. Until an old man who had been cremated for three days sent a voice message to his granddaughter on WeChat. In the voice, the old man said: "Don't let them send me back to my old house." Everyone thought it was a scam. Only I heard another voice in the noise. "The lights are still on," it said. That night, I met Zhu Qingshan. He wore an old jacket like a locksmith and smoked the cheapest cigarettes. Others call him Mr. Zhu, but he says that he is not an expert, but just a "finisher." Later I learned that there is a kind of person in this world called a lampkeeper. After a person dies and before the lights go out, someone must confirm whether those who should leave have a way to go, and whether things that should not be left behind have come back through the thoughts of living people. From county funeral homes to the demolition of old wells; from abandoned hospitals to live broadcasts of soul searching; from mobile phones that receive the voice of the deceased to AI videos that can "resurrect" loved ones. I followed Zhu Qingshan for ten years and saw too many unexplainable things. I gradually understood that the most terrifying thing was never the dead. It's the living people who refuse to let go. And ten years later, I came across an old video. In the video, there stood a man who should have died ten years ago. I know, that light is on again.