(3/5)
“Ding-dong—”
“Ding-dong—”
“Ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong—”
The sharp sound of the doorbell pierced through the muddled, humid dream, jolting Yang Siguang awake from his bed.
His head felt heavy. His back was soaked, drenched in cold sweat.
Clutching his head, Yang Siguang struggled to sit up. The glass jar rolled out of his embrace, settling on the soft mattress.
Li Chen’s eyeball wobbled within the formalin liquid, its surface faintly shimmering as if with a hint of light.
Even though he was awake, sitting on the bed and listening to the doorbell echo from outside, Yang Siguang remained dazed for quite a while before finally regaining his wits.
The sky outside had already darkened.
The living room was still eerily quiet. Presumably, his parents had other plans for the evening, and Ding Xiaolong, who had fled the house in a panic earlier that afternoon after being caught stealing in Siguang’s room, hadn’t returned since.
Through the closed bedroom door, he could still hear the persistent ringing of the doorbell at the entryway.
“Ding-dong—”
“Ding-dong—”
Yang Siguang initially thought that, after such a long time without a response, the ringing would eventually stop on its own.
But after waiting for a while, the sound continued relentlessly, aggravating his throbbing headache until he could no longer endure it. Finally, he dragged himself up, propping against the wall, and stumbled toward the front door.
“I’m coming! Who is it—”
He called out toward the security door, then pressed his eye against the peephole.
The house they were living in was a second-hand property his mother and stepfather had bought a few years ago. It had been very cheap, but the property management was equally poor. The hallway lights had been broken for ages, with no one coming to repair them.
As a result, the hallway became particularly dark once night fell.
Through the peephole, Yang Siguang glimpsed the fleeting shadow of a thin, frail figure that seemed to dart past—a child-sized silhouette.
At the same time, the doorbell abruptly stopped.
Yang Siguang froze.
A child’s prank? That was his first thought.
However, for some inexplicable reason, the thin figure that had just flashed by felt uncannily familiar to him. But as a reclusive university student, Yang Siguang had hardly interacted with the neighbors since moving in, let alone with any children.
“Click.”
Yang Siguang opened the door.
He leaned out cautiously, gazing in the direction the figure had disappeared… deeper into the hallway, farther from the windows. The entire corridor was shrouded in heavy shadows, except for the faint, eerie green glow of the emergency exit sign at the end.
Yang Siguang wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but it felt as though the child was still hiding in that shadow, staring at him unblinkingly.
He could sense that lifeless, oppressive gaze.
He couldn’t help but shiver.
Though it was summer, the hallway felt unusually cold. Rubbing his temples, Yang Siguang was about to close the door when his peripheral vision caught sight of an envelope lying on the doormat.
“?”
The envelope was made of high-quality, thick paper. A faint scent of sandalwood wafted from its jet-black surface.
Centered neatly on the envelope was a line of formal script:
[To: Yang Siguang]
Other than that, there was nothing else—no address, no delivery slip.
Yang Siguang stared at the entirely black envelope, hesitated, and then slowly opened it.
A stronger scent of sandalwood, mixed with the faint, damp smell of paper ash, rushed out as he unfolded the letter inside.
[Dear Mr. Yang Siguang,
Greetings.
It is with the heaviest of hearts that I inform you that Mr. Li Chen passed away in a car accident on June 11, 20xx.
A funeral service will be held for him on June 17, 20xx, at Biyunshan Cemetery.
Details of the service are as follows:
Date: June 17, 20xx
Time: 10:00 AM
Location: Biyunshan Cemetery
Address: 456 Yunling Road, City A
Contact: Li Bo, Phone: 138-0011-2233
If you have any questions or need further information, please do not hesitate to contact the individual above.
May Mr. Li Chen rest in peace, and thank you for your support and care during this difficult time. He would have been deeply grateful and would have cherished this bond forever.
Obituary Notice.]
The sensation was like venomous insects gnawing fiercely at his nerves, and the intense pain spread from his neck to his brain.
Yang Siguang stared fixedly at the obituary notice between his fingers, his mind dazed for a long while before he forced his gaze to focus on the rows of stark black, orderly characters.
Something seemed off…
He couldn’t help but think.
Cold wind whistled through the gap under the door, filling the entryway and chilling his hands and feet.
As a young college student, Yang Siguang had not yet reached the age where obituary notices came frequently.
But even so, he felt that the phrasing and tone of this particular obituary were strange in an indescribable way.
Moreover, he had to admit that receiving this notification had thrown him into a state of anxiety.
His relationship with Li Chen had always been distant, so he didn’t understand why he would receive such an obituary—especially after tentatively inquiring among his peers to see if anyone else had received notice of Li Chen’s memorial service, only to get answers that made him increasingly uneasy.
[A memorial service? Oh, you mean Li Shen… I’d love to go, but it seems like this matter has blown up. Tons of local news accounts and bored influencers have been posting his photos and stuff from when he was alive…]
[And wasn’t the driver responsible for the accident acting all mysterious and superstitious? That drunkard even dared to claim it wasn’t intentional, that he was ‘blinded by ghosts’ and didn’t see anyone at all… All sorts of infuriating rumors and exposés are circulating—it’s disgusting.]
[His family’s rich, though. They’re probably working to suppress things. Right now, this whole issue is being kept under wraps. Forget the memorial service—no one even knows when Li Shen’s funeral will be held…]
Shooting sounds from a video game faintly echoed through the phone.
Li Chen’s former roommate seemed somewhat surprised to receive Yang Siguang’s call but maintained a fairly friendly demeanor.
[You know, some of the students in our year were thinking about organizing a flower tribute for him, but as soon as word got out, the department head urgently shut it down… I heard that Li Chen’s family specifically requested the school to do so. Right now, anyone who talks about this, whether on or off campus, will face severe consequences if caught!]
[You’re probably one of Li Chen’s fans, right? Take my advice—don’t bother hoping for a funeral or memorial service. Those are private affairs for the Li family. People like us, classmates or whatever, won’t get in.]
…
Lowering his gaze, Yang Siguang thanked the person on the other end of the line before hanging up.
He had asked nearly everyone who had been close to Li Chen, and without exception, none of them had any knowledge of Li Chen’s impending cremation.
At least, for now, it seemed that among the students at University A, the only one who had received an invitation was him.
Yang Siguang bit his fingernail.
He couldn’t figure out why the Li family had gone out of their way to send him this memorial notice.
Did they check the surveillance footage and discover that Li Chen’s eyeball was with him?
Were they trying to inform him in this way, asking him to return it so that Li Chen could have a complete corpse?
…
Lost in thought, Yang Siguang unconsciously hugged the jar of formalin closer to himself.
I don’t want to go.
A voice inside him screamed selfishly.
I don’t want to give it back!
They already had Li Chen’s body.
What he possessed was nothing more than something that could be held with three fingers and that could be fully concealed in the palm of a hand—a single eyeball.
That tiny piece was all he wanted.
He wanted to keep it.
That way, even after Li Chen’s body entered the crematorium, reduced to gray-white ashes in the high heat, at least through the glass jar, he could once again see the proud and aloof young man’s cold and lifeless gaze.
…
A dark, heavy sense of confusion and pain crept over him, leaving Yang Siguang feeling like he was drowning, struggling to breathe.
Even he knew how absurd his thoughts were, yet he couldn’t control his greed and madness.
Yang Siguang had thought he would follow his instincts, ignore the notice, and resign himself to waiting for the Li family to find him through surveillance and demand Li Chen’s eyeball back.
However, on the day mentioned in the notice, Yang Siguang still donned an ill-fitting black suit and took a taxi to Biyunshan Cemetery.
But before the taxi even reached the cemetery gate, he was stopped coldly by someone.
“Apologies, this area is closed to the public today.”
The person blocking the way belonged to a private security company. His suit was even more refined and expensive than Yang Siguang’s, and though his ordinary-looking face bore no expression, his eyes gleamed with sharp vigilance.
When his gaze landed on the pale-faced Yang Siguang through the car window, the scrutiny and suspicion in his eyes felt like little knives pricking at Yang Siguang’s body.
Yang Siguang recalled the details his call with Li Chen’s roommate had revealed.
In the past, Li Chen had occasionally drawn attention whenever his photos leaked online.
Let alone now—a person with stunning looks and an impressive family background who had met such a tragic end, coupled with the driver’s bizarre and unsettling remarks.
Li Chen’s death encompassed all the elements that could turn it into a viral sensation. This also meant his passing had become fodder for idle gossip over meals…
No wonder the Li family was furious.
It was understandable for them to hire a security company to screen attendees at the memorial service.
The real anomaly, however, was him—bringing Li Chen’s eyeball to attend the memorial service.
Yang Siguang got out of the car.
The ride-share driver seemed to sense something was amiss and quickly drove away, leaving Yang Siguang standing there alone, face-to-face with the security personnel, whose scrutinizing gaze grew harsher.
“Hello, I’ve already told you, this place is not open to the public today—”
“I’m here to attend the memorial service.”
Yang Siguang hoarsely said, handing the envelope to the security guard.
The man opened the envelope and after seeing the letter inside, he obviously froze for a moment.
“This is indeed a notice only sent to the family.”
The man sniffed the envelope, his brow furrowing tighter and tighter as he looked at Yang Siguang with growing suspicion.
“Yang… Si… Guang…” He repeated Yang Siguang’s name, “But I don’t see this name on the family list.”
While speaking, the man placed his hand on Yang Siguang’s shoulder.
“Where did you get this notice from?”
He asked, one word at a time.
Yang Siguang stared blankly at the man, a headache starting to return.
It was delivered to my door by you guys—
He thought about explaining, but for some reason, the cemetery felt so cold.
So cold that his whole body started to tremble uncontrollably, and his voice got completely stuck in his throat.
In fact, it wasn’t just him who suddenly felt cold—the security guard, who was sturdy and looked exceptionally sharp, also involuntarily shivered at that moment.
Just then, someone noticed the standoff at the cemetery gate and quickly walked toward them with a frown.
“What’s going on here?”
He asked.
The man was very tall, with dark brows and eyes, and a tall, handsome figure.
His voice was calm as he spoke, but Yang Siguang could sense the aura of authority that naturally came from being in a high position at work.
Whenever Yang Siguang encountered such a person, his stomach would involuntarily tighten.
In fact, the security guard who had been staring at him, upon seeing this man, immediately weakened in demeanor.
“Mr. Li,” he respectfully greeted.
“There’s a young man here who somehow got a black envelope for family members and tried to come in. I thought he looked suspicious, so I stopped him.”
“The list of people with black envelopes has already been given to you. The faces and names must match. If they don’t, just tell them to leave. What’s there to be suspicious about? And you guys are still wasting time here on such an important day—”
The man, called Mr. Li, spoke halfway, his voice suddenly cutting off.
He stared at Yang Siguang’s pale face, as if struck by lightning, frozen in place.
Yang Siguang was standing very close to him, close enough that he could clearly see the man’s pupils shrink to a dark dot due to shock.
“It’s you—”
Then he heard the man let out a barely audible whisper.
It wasn’t something the man intentionally said, more like an unintentional murmur due to being overly surprised.
However, the man’s moment of lost composure only lasted for a short moment.
“Yang Siguang.”
He stared at Yang Siguang, not looking at the envelope, but accurately calling out the name.
“Oh, I know him.” This was directed at the security guard. “This is my younger brother’s… friend.”
When he mentioned Yang Siguang’s identity, there was a moment of hesitation, but he quickly pushed it aside as if it hadn’t happened.
“He has a black envelope; it’s fine.”
Turning back to look at Yang Siguang, the man had returned to his previous calm and competent demeanor.
“Thank you for coming to attend Li Chen’s memorial service.” He paused, then extended his hand to Yang Siguang, “I’m Li Bo, Li Chen’s older brother. Come, I’ll take you inside.”
Yang Siguang hesitated for a moment.
However, when he looked up, he noticed that the man in front of him bore a faint resemblance to Li Chen.
Without knowing why, he slowly raised his hand and placed it in Li Bo’s.
Perhaps because of his strong and robust physique, Li Bo’s palm was very warm.
The moment Yang Siguang’s cold fingertips touched it, they subtly curled.
Not sure if it was just his imagination, but for a brief moment, he felt like Li Bo trembled slightly.
But when he looked at him, the man’s expression was completely calm and normal.
Li Chen did indeed have an older brother.
However, everyone in the city knew that the relationship between them was quite distant.
That man was adopted by the Li family after Li Chen’s mother, a famously unreliable young lady, eloped with someone. The Li family, in their complete disillusionment, brought in a distant relative’s child to adopt.
Initially, they wanted to adopt him as a son but worried that the child would become distant as he grew older, so when Li Bo was brought to the Li family, he was still an infant in swaddling clothes, crying for milk.
In terms of age, he was only a few years older than Li Chen.
Later, Li Chen was brought back to the family under tragic circumstances, and so, in the family tree, Li Bo was considered Li Chen’s “older brother.”
But those few years of age gave Li Bo a natural advantage in the Li family.
While Li Chen was still in university, Li Bo had already entered the company and handled many important matters. He had subtly established a strong position within the company.
Now that Li Chen was dead, Li Bo’s position had become even more secure. Yang Siguang, in a daze, followed him all the way into the grand and solemn memorial hall. Many people there were dressed in suits, and when they greeted Li Bo, they all showed great respect.
“Mr. Li.”
“Mr. Li… condolences.”
“Mr. Li…”
…
Li Bo handled the crowd smoothly, responding courteously to everyone, yet without making Yang Siguang feel neglected. When Yang Siguang finally regained his composure, he realized that Li Bo had directly seated him in the farthest corner of the hall.
Although the spot was remote, the arrangement was meticulous.
There were tea and snacks nearby, and the seats were positioned to avoid drafts—despite it being midsummer, the temperature inside the funeral hall was always set to an unusually low level.
Yang Siguang felt the cold air constantly rushing towards him as he entered the hall, and before he knew it, he was frozen to the point where his body had nearly lost all sensation.
“Those are business friends of my family,” Li Bo said after leading Yang Siguang to his seat. He seemed to relax slightly, letting out a bitter smile as he ran his hand through his hair. “I told them to keep the funeral simple, but still, so many people showed up… I guess you wouldn’t want to be with that crowd.”
He didn’t wait for Yang Siguang’s response. Looking down, he saw the thin, pale young man beside him, staring blankly at the coffin in front of the hall.
Unlike a Western-style funeral, the coffin here was tightly closed, with no intention of being open. Under layers of curtains, clusters of lilies and chrysanthemums were tightly arranged around the coffin. Even though Yang Siguang stood in the farthest corner of the hall, he could still vaguely smell the strong fragrance of lilies.
The photograph of Li Chen was adorned with an exquisite black silk ribbon, standing in front of the coffin, surrounded by white roses. The young man in the photograph had a handsome face, just like before, but his expression appeared unusually cold, and his amber-brown eyes seemed to sharply stare directly at Yang Siguang, as if looking through layers of people and the frame itself.
A strange pain spread from Yang Siguang’s fingertips.
At that moment, time seemed to slow down. Yang Siguang didn’t have the chance to hesitate or feel confused about Li Bo’s warmth towards him. All of his attention was consumed by the people and their various expressions at the funeral.
As Li Bo had said, most of the people here were business acquaintances of the Li family. Even though the Li family was deeply angered by the online incidents and had emphasized not allowing outsiders, the place was still bustling, filled with noise.
Because of these people, Yang Siguang easily noticed the family members of the deceased—Li Chen’s grandparents, who hadn’t changed much since the time they took Li Chen away to live in a shabby building. In fact, the Li family matriarch looked even better preserved than Yang’s mother.
They stood there with indifferent expressions, some subtle gloom in their eyes, yet Yang Siguang could not detect any genuine sorrow from them.
As for Li Chen’s mother, she still looked as beautiful as ever, with no signs of aging. She was leaning into a well-groomed man’s arms, mumbling something under her breath. Her slightly flushed cheeks and moist eyes clearly indicated that her thoughts were far from focused on her son’s funeral.
The guests unconsciously gathered around the elderly Li couple, offering a few perfunctory words of “condolences,” before the conversation shifted to business matters.
The funeral was extravagantly arranged, but the atmosphere in the funeral hall was chaotic and noisy.
However, as Yang Siguang stared at the crowd before him, he felt increasingly disgusted and nauseous.
Why?
Why could he see no sadness on anyone’s face?
There were so many people here, but he couldn’t find any grief or mourning for Li Chen. Wasn’t he supposed to be someone who grew up in a well-off family, surrounded by family after returning home? Yet why was it that, despite his death, none of these people seemed sad?
Yang Siguang unconsciously pressed his hand to his chest.
“Are… you okay?”
Li Bo’s voice came from afar, soft and illusory.
“I… I’m fine,” Yang Siguang murmured.
But the next second, a tissue appeared before him.
He looked up and met Li Bo’s gaze, which was filled with a complicated look that he couldn’t hide.
The tissue was handed to him by Li Bo.
“You’ve been crying.”
The man sighed lightly.
It was only then that Yang Siguang realized he had unknowingly burst into tears.
Li Bo, watching him, seemed to have a strange sigh buried beneath his calm expression.
“Li Chen… I think he wouldn’t want you to be so upset for him.”
After a few seconds, Yang Siguang heard Li Bo’s dry voice.
Then, Li Bo sighed again.
“Just go ahead and light an incense for him, then leave. There’s really no need to stay here with so many people around.”
The memorial session began, and the attendants began directing people to light incense.
Yang Siguang, dazed, took the incense and stood behind a few businessmen who were whispering about some land deal in the east of the city. Step by step, he walked towards Li Chen’s coffin.
The closer he got to the portrait of Li Chen, the more intense the feeling of being watched became.
To control his emotions, Yang Siguang kept his head down, biting his lip tightly.
In the voice of the attendant, Yang Siguang slowly bent down in front of the coffin.
A sweet, metallic smell of blood lingered in his nostrils and throat…
“Drip…”
Then he heard the sound of blood dripping.
At first, Yang Siguang thought it was his own blood, but soon he realized the sound was coming from somewhere else.
He slowly raised his head and looked at the portrait in front of him.
The portrait of Li Chen had somehow changed its posture. His eyelids were now half-closed, but his sharp eyes were glaring intensely at Yang Siguang from the frame.
Behind the portrait was the heavy black coffin, and to his horror, there was now a narrow slit in the coffin.
Thick, foul-smelling black blood was oozing from that crack, dripping steadily to the floor.
Author’s Note:
Darkness review: Wife’s here! Let’s welcome the zombie!
