Chapter 68.3: Return from the Deep

Tan Wenbin stopped in front of a stall selling grotesque masks. Two artisans were painting them, and he watched for quite a while before asking for one with Sun Wukong’s face.

He didn’t dare buy and bring back one of the scary ones—just imagining spotting it in the dark during a midnight bathroom run was enough to give him chills.

Once it was finished and paid for, he put it on and mimicked the Monkey King’s iconic pose.

“Hey, monster! Hand over my Little Yuan!”

…

They soon arrived at a tea stall. Covered-bowl tea was all the rage at temple fairs lately—sugar and candied fruits often added to soothe tired visitors.

But the tea here was different. It was brewed on-site. No one could quite tell what kind of tea leaves were used, but the aroma was strong. The banner overhead read: “Bewildering Tea” on the left, “Meng Po Soup” on the right.

Tan Wenbin bought three cups. The trio sat on low stools, sipping slowly. It was strong, but not bitter.

Most people at the fair were locals, but plenty of tourists had come for the Ghost Festival—some foreigners, too.

“Little Yuan, is that really the Hall of Yama up there?” Runsheng asked, pointing to the complex on the hill.

“That’s the Palace of the Emperor of Fengdu, sovereign of the Underworld. He’s the patron deity of souls returning from death.”

“Sounds badass,” Tan Wenbin said, sipping his tea. “He from around here?”

“There’s a legend that says the Emperor of Fengdu was actually Yin Changsheng, the younger brother of Empress Yin Lihua of the Eastern Han dynasty. He shunned wealth and privilege to pursue the Dao, eventually gaining enlightenment and ascending to the heavens right here in Fengdu.”

“The Empress’s brother?” Tan Wenbin smacked his lips. “Turning his back on a life of luxury just to cultivate? What a waste.”

“Different people, different dreams. Didn’t you just turn down Brother Liang’s offer to fund a Wanzhou grilled fish franchise?”

“So I’m pure, too—untainted by worldly filth.”

Runsheng asked, “Little Yuan, why does every shop here have a water urn out front?”

Li Zhuiyuan replied, “Must be some local custom.”

After finishing their tea, they resumed their walk. Next stop: a funeral supply shop. Li Zhuiyuan planned to ask about local Corpse Retrievers. If any bore the surname Yin, he’d deliver compensation as a way to settle the karmic debt from the tomb.

Past the large archway marking Fengdu Ghost City, they saw a stone stele with an inscription:

“If a child never walks at night, how would he know there are others who do?”

The quote came from Ge Hong’s “Baopuzi” in the Jin dynasty. It recounted something Yin Changsheng once said—how only after becoming an Immortal did he realize how many other Immortals there were in the world. Just like you wouldn’t know people roam the streets at night if you never step outside after dark.

For Li Zhuiyuan, the phrase now held different meaning. Before he encountered Corpse Retrievers, he had no idea Dead Sinkers existed. But once he began learning, he found they were more common than he’d imagined—and that the trade had many practitioners.

Beyond the stele stood a shop.

Its signboard read: “Yin Lord Coffin Shop.”

Two plaques flanked the doorway: “Rise in the World by Rising in a Coffin” and “Fortune Comes, Luck Arrives.”

Yin Lord was an honorific for Yin Changsheng. So the owner might not actually be surnamed Yin. But it was still a coffin shop, and likely had ties to Corpse Retrievers.

Take Li Zhuiyuan’s own great-grandfather—he had close ties to upstream and downstream funeral businesses, until he broke away and built his own operation.

Inside, the shop was quiet. Deeper within stood two full-sized coffins, one red, one black. At the counter sat miniature coffins of all styles—more like novelty models.

Some were even painted with cartoon figures: Ultraman, Astro Boy, Transformers.

Tan Wenbin picked one up, opened and closed it a few times, then chuckled. “Clever design. Boss has a mind for business, but the product’s just too niche. No matter how hard you try, you’re not gonna sell these at a temple fair.”

Other shops bustled with customers. This one remained desolate—neither locals nor tourists seemed eager to bring home a coffin, even a toy one.

Tan Wenbin played with the mini coffin a few more times, laughing.

“Little Yuan, should we get a couple and use them as pencil cases?”

“Hey there, which ones are you eyeing? Buy two and I’ll give you a discount.”

A girl around Tan Wenbin’s age stepped out from behind the curtain, carrying a bowl of noodles. Her skin was a little dark, but she was tall for a local, with a bright, forthright energy.

“These two. I’ll take them.”

“Got it!”

Tan Wenbin knew Li Zhuiyuan had questions to ask, so he bought something to break the ice.

Runsheng joked, “How about one for Zhou Yunyun?”

Instead of getting mad, Tan Wenbin lit up. “Y’know, that’s kind of romantic.”

The girl grinned. “I’ve got couple sets, if you’re interested.”

“Hit me.”

“Sure thing.” She pulled out two mini coffins from under the counter—one black, one red. Finely crafted, with interlocking grooves. They could snap together.

Tan Wenbin laughed. “This is great.”

The girl nodded. “Right? If I were a girl and someone I liked gave me this, I’d be over the moon.”

Li Zhuiyuan blinked. “Aren’t you a girl?”

“Oh, I am!” She laughed. “Just misspoke.”

When Tan Wenbin actually paid and had all four coffins wrapped up, Li Zhuiyuan, out of friendship, asked, “Binbin, you’re really gonna give one to Zhou?”

“I just think they’re fun.” Tan Wenbin rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

The girl pouted. “Why not? If she doesn’t get it, she’s the one who’s missing out. This is traditional romantic culture!”

Tan Wenbin nodded. “Fair point. I still won’t give it, but I agree.”

“You guys aren’t from around here, are you? Where you from?”

“Nantong.”

“Nantong… that in Anhui? Or Jiangxi?”

“Jiangsu.”

“Oh, Jiangsu! I know that—Nanjing, Suzhou, Yangzhou, Xuzhou, all famous. Nantong… it’s famous too.”

Tan Wenbin teased, “For what?”

“Well…” She trailed off.

Li Zhuiyuan steered the conversation. “Boss, do you know any Corpse Retrievers nearby? Folks in charge of pulling floaters from the river?”

“Corpse Retrievers?” She looked puzzled. “You need someone pulled out?”

“No, just asking. Specifically, do you know any Retrievers surnamed Yin?”

She darted back into the inner room. Moments later, she emerged, holding a Yellow River Spade in her left hand.

“I’m Yin. Name’s Yin Meng.”

Li Zhuiyuan hadn’t expected it to be this easy. Still, he asked, “Do you have a genealogy record at home?”

“Why’re you asking so many questions?”

“To give money.”

“We do.”

“Mind letting me see it?”

“You’ll pay if I show it?”

“If it includes the name Yin Zhiwang.”

“Yin Zhiwang? Oh, sure. That was nearly two hundred years ago, but I remember. Says here in the book that a man-eating serpent showed up in Wanzhou. He went to catch it with some folks and never came back. I can fetch it for you.”

“No need.” Li Zhuiyuan turned to Tan Wenbin. “Pay her.”

Tan Wenbin placed the money—tied with red string—on the counter.

Yin Meng picked it up, blinking in disbelief.

“You saw him? As a Dead Sinker?”

“Yeah.”

“Wha—” She waved her hands frantically. “Don’t scare me, I was just talking nonsense!”

But anyone who wielded a Yellow River Spade and casually mentioned Dead Sinkers had to be the real deal—purer than even Li Zhuiyuan’s great-grandfather.

So there was no need to hide anything.

“We owed him. This is to settle the debt. Take it—the matter’s closed.”

“Hehehe…” Yin Meng giggled, counting the bills. “Looks like my ancestor came back to send me some rent money. I was just worrying about next month.”

Tan Wenbin commented, “This shop isn’t exactly helping you pay rent.”

“What else am I supposed to sell?”

“Grilled Wanzhou fish?”

She blinked.

“Or Yangzhou fried rice.”

She nudged her half-eaten noodles—just plain noodles with soy sauce.

Tan Wenbin gave a knowing nod. “Got it.”

“You guys hungry? I can cook more noodles. Or go grab some dishes and drinks from across the street.”

Li Zhuiyuan said, “We already ate.”

“Then stay for dinner. You came all this way to bring money—at least let me treat you. I doubt my ancestor helped you all that much.”

“He did.”

“I don’t believe it. If he’d helped you, he wouldn’t have died there, never making it home.”

“There’s also this jade pendant.” Li Zhuiyuan placed it on the counter. “This is for you too.”

Yin Meng glanced at it, then pushed it back.

“Debt’s settled with the money. The pendant is yours.”

“Alright.” He pocketed it again. “We’ll be off then.”

“Hey, not sticking around? The real attractions are up there.”

“We are going.”

“The boats shut down early. Take your time. If you stay the night, sleep here. Save you the trouble of booking a hotel.”

They had come for leisure, and she was being generous. Li Zhuiyuan accepted.

“Thanks. Hope we’re not imposing.”

“Hey… you sure you’re not some big Dead Sinker who crawled out of a water burial?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Here, lemme test you.”

She pulled a yellow talisman from her pocket and slapped it on his chest.

When nothing happened, she faked a gasp.

“Oh no! So scary! You’re so fierce!”

Everyone laughed. They knew she was joking.

“Let’s return the favor! Hey, demon, I’ll slap one on you too!”

Tan Wenbin pulled out a “Zhuiyuan Secret Talisman” and stuck it on Yin Meng’s forehead.

The paper turned purple.

Tan Wenbin leapt back, screaming, “Holy shit!”

Next Chapter >>>