Corpse Retriever

Chapter 49.2: The Starving Ghost

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Just as he got on the bike, it surged forward, and Tan Wenbin had to grab his father’s waist tightly.

“Dad, slow down. If the two of us get into an accident, wouldn’t that just free Mom?”

The moment he said it, Tan Wenbin regretted the joke. How dare he tease his old man to his face?

Probably because yesterday Little Yuanhou had shown him a taste of the real world—his dad, scary as he was, still couldn’t compare to a nest of Dead Sinkers.

To his surprise, his dad didn’t get angry. In fact, through the motorcycle’s rearview mirror, Tan Wenbin could see the corner of his father’s mouth twitching, like he was holding back a smile.

Once they entered Xiting Town, Tan Wenbin gave directions into the village, then hopped off first and walked into a gambling den. Runsheng had told him his grandfather liked to lose money there.

After Wenbin went in, Tan Yunlong got off the bike, helmet in hand, and walked in as well.

He flipped a gambling table and kicked his son out. He didn’t even need to show his badge—none of the gamblers dared challenge him.

Some people are just born with presence.

After wrecking the den, the father and son walked out. Wenbin led his dad to Zhou Yong’s house, where Runsheng was already standing.

“Dad, we’ve been inside, so… should we go back in to deal with fingerprints and stuff? You know, since you’re the expert.”

“You went inside.”

“Uh, yeah. Last night, we went in.”

“You went inside.”

“Yeah, we did. We cleaned up a bit, but probably not thoroughly…”

Tan Yunlong thought to himself, If Little Yuanhou were here, this pointless back-and-forth wouldn’t be happening.

He turned to Runsheng. “Where to next?”

“The riverbank,” said Runsheng.

It took Wenbin a while to realize: if his dad said they’d already been inside, then it was official—they’d been inside. Any traces left behind were just normal.

And more importantly, they didn’t need to go back in.

The three of them arrived at the riverbank.

Runsheng had set up a net in the water. The corpse hadn’t drifted off; it was still there.

Even Tan Yunlong, who’d seen plenty of crime scenes, couldn’t help but frown deeply at the sight, a look of stunned disbelief on his face.

“What exactly did you do?”

…

Li Zhuiyuan woke up.

He opened his eyes and instinctively turned his head toward the door—no sign of the girl.

Because he was blind now.

Almost immediately, a small, warm hand clasped his.

“Ah Li, how long have I been asleep?”

Three fingers were raised.

Three days—quite a stretch.

“Has Taigong come back?”

The hand shook side to side.

“What about Runsheng and Binbin?”

Another shake.

“I want to take a bath.”

He leaned in close to the girl and took a sniff.

Liu Yumei always scented Ah Li’s clothes. Different styles, different fragrances.

But this scent had faded.

It meant the girl had stayed by his bedside the whole time.

“Ah Li, you should take a bath too. Then get some sleep.”

Ah Li reached out to help him out of bed. Zhuiyuan waved her off. “I’m fine. It doesn’t matter whether I can see at home.”

Ah Li stood and left.

Zhuiyuan sat on the edge of the bed for a bit before standing. At first, the blindness had disoriented him. Now, he was used to it—almost worried he wouldn’t adjust back if he regained his sight.

He visualized his room in his mind, calculating each step. He reached out, opened the door, turned right, passed Taigong’s room, turned again.

Finally, he opened the bathroom door and stepped inside.

Clean clothes were already neatly folded on a rack by the door. Pouring hot and cold water into the overhead bucket was tricky, but he managed.

After washing up and changing clothes, he stepped outside to catch a breeze. Zhuiyuan felt alive again.

Back at his room’s entrance, he sat on the rattan chair.

Downstairs, Liu Yumei was brushing her freshly bathed granddaughter’s hair. She saw the boy return calmly and sit down. The rattan chair was right on the balcony’s edge—dangerous. She wanted to say something but held back.

Her granddaughter tried to stand up. She gently pressed her down.

“Ah Li, even if he can’t see us, we still have to look pretty in front of him, right?”

Ah Li sat back down.

Zhuiyuan couldn’t enjoy scenery or read. So, he daydreamed.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he sensed the girl sit beside him.

He sniffed—osmanthus. This scent must go with a bright yellow ruqun.

“Ah Li, let’s play a game of Go.”

The girl gripped his hand and gave it a firm press.

Zhuiyuan raised his hand, drew an imaginary square in the air, and pointed to one spot.

The girl guided his hand to point at another.

And just like that, the two of them played a silent game of Go in the air.

Partway through, the sound of a tricycle came from downstairs. Taigong was back.

Aunt Liu asked, “Where are Binbin and Runsheng? Didn’t they come back with you?”

“They’re at the police station helping with the investigation. This time they pulled up five bodies—heh, a real fat job.”

Li Sanjiang went upstairs, planning to shower and check in on Little Yuanhou.

Zhuiyuan didn’t try to hide. Living under the same roof, it was impossible to keep his blindness a secret from Taigong.

Seeing the cloth over his great-grandson’s eyes, Li Sanjiang was so shocked he nearly lost his soul. He rushed forward and hugged the boy, ignoring the intimidating Ah Li nearby.

Zhuiyuan kept holding Ah Li’s hand to make sure she wouldn’t lash out.

But he could tell—the girl’s resistance to strangers had lessened.

Aunt Liu quickly came up to explain that Little Yuanhou had an eye condition and was already on medication. He’d be fully recovered in less than a month, with no lasting effects.

But Li Sanjiang exploded.

“Bullshit! The kid’s eyes are no small matter! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

After the outburst, he carried the boy downstairs and went to the village clinic.

Zheng Datong examined him and shook his head.

So Li Sanjiang took Zhuiyuan to the township hospital by tricycle.

They spent half a day there. The doctors couldn’t identify the problem—no clear diagnosis.

Then they caught a bus to a city hospital. After a whole day of tests, still nothing conclusive.

Zhuiyuan kept trying to reassure him. “I’ll get better soon.”

He thought that would settle things.

But Taigong wasn’t done. He took him from Nantong to Shanghai.

It was Zhuiyuan’s first time on a ferry, and his first visit to China’s most bustling metropolis.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t see a thing. Just engine roars and honking all around.

Li Sanjiang had lived in Old Shanghai—before the founding of the PRC. Now he was just like any rural grandpa in the big city.

Still, he wasn’t shy or stiff. He asked for directions wherever they went—and always got the right answers.

Perhaps it was the sight of a white-haired elder with a blindfolded, cute boy that moved people.

Motorcycle taxi drivers refused to take money. The guesthouse lady secretly returned the room fee. The Shaanxi owner of a breakfast shop gave them free food.

Even at the hospital, while sharing steamed cornbread on the stairs during a break, they met a professor coming down.

The professor let them cut the line, called in colleagues for a consultation, and finally diagnosed the issue: a neurological disorder affecting the boy’s vision. He needed rest and to avoid stress.

He assured Li Sanjiang: in a month or two, the boy might gradually recover.

There was no surgery—this kind of nerve issue stumped doctors worldwide. They gave some medication.

The professor also left his contact info and told them to come directly to him if the boy didn’t improve in two months.

Li Sanjiang thanked the doctor profusely. After they left the hospital and entered a nearby alley, he collapsed to his knees, hugging the boy and wailing.

“Little Yuanhou, it’s all my fault! I’m useless! I don’t have the means to take you overseas for treatment!”

All the suppressed emotions exploded. The old man sobbed like a child.

Hearing it, Zhuiyuan wanted to cry too—but no matter how deep he searched, he couldn’t find a trace of sorrow.

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