Die Reise einer Wahnsinnigen durch die Song-Dynastie

Kapitel 16

Liu Er's face was less than ten centimeters away from mine, but I didn't dare turn my head to see his expression at that moment; I didn't even want to imagine it.

He had searched for his biological father for so many years, and countless times he had dreamt of his father's figure and face. I think that as he grew to hate his mother more and more, he must have also shaped his father's image into something tall and perfect.

But now, the word "execution" has shattered everything in an instant.

Shatter!

"This is... Father?" Liu Er asked.

I don't know who he was asking. Was he asking me? Himself? Or God?

I remained silent.

This is probably why You Fang never wanted to tell her son.

His father was a convict who was executed! No wonder he had to hide this fact from his young son.

But what serious crime did Zhang Jinlong commit to be executed?

This file doesn't contain any information; it only has a few simple columns and no other details.

"I need to use the restroom," Liu Er said to me before leaving the Civil Affairs Bureau, his voice trembling slightly at the end. This was the second thing he had said since we started.

I lingered at the toilet door for a very long time; it wouldn't normally take him this long to shave his hands and face.

I looked at his face. There were three scars on his eyebrow, cheek, and mouth.

I can imagine how shaky his hands were when he was shaving.

“Let’s go,” he said. His gaze was fixed downwards, and a deep sadness emanated from him.

We walked slowly down the road instead of calling a taxi home.

The sky was overcast, the air was very humid, and it was muggy.

“You don’t live for others; you live for yourself,” I said.

“I know,” he said. That surprised me.

“The fact that my mom told you Dad’s name means she thinks it’s time for me to face all of this.” Liu Er looked straight ahead: “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

I felt relieved; the series of setbacks had finally helped him grow.

"Next... huh?"

"What's wrong?" I followed his gaze and saw a child on the sidewalk ahead, covering his head and squatting on the ground, crying loudly.

"Uh, it's nothing. Let's find somewhere to have lunch, I'm starving."

I went into a small shop and ordered two rice bowls. I don't think Liu Er was surprised for no reason. If he didn't say anything, then it probably wasn't anything important.

"What's the next step? Should we go to the Municipal Public Security Bureau to investigate Zhang Jinlong's case in detail?"

"Of course we need to investigate why someone was executed, but I'm thinking, should we start with the crematorium first?"

"A crematorium?" Liu Er paused eating, puzzled. "What's there to investigate?"

"Isn't the investigation into your father precisely to suspect that your mutation was inherited from him?"

"Then the crematorium... um." Liu Er paused, seemingly having guessed something.

"You guessed the reason so quickly?" I muttered to myself for a moment, then continued, "People come into this world naked and leave naked. Any abnormalities on him will definitely not escape the notice of the crematorium workers. Maybe after all these years, the crematorium workers will still remember him."

Liu Er nodded: "That's a good idea. When should we go? This afternoon?"

"Don't be in such a hurry. It happened more than 20 years ago, so there's no rush. I have to go to work this afternoon. How about tomorrow or the day after tomorrow morning? I interviewed the Xibaoxing Road Crematorium before. It would be much more convenient to go to the office, look through their business cards, and make a phone call."

"hero."

I was sitting in front of the computer, lost in thought, worrying about today's draft, when I was suddenly patted hard on the shoulder, so hard that I stumbled in my chair. I turned around and saw Su Shixun rubbing his hands together and smiling at me.

"What!" I glared at him, rubbing my shoulder.

"It's nothing, it's nothing." Su Shixun laughed heartily, looking up at the sky. "Heroes meeting again, let's show some mutual respect. How have you been?"

What? Lately, I've been seeing this guy several times a day. Looks like this clown is in a good mood today and's going crazy over everyone he meets.

"Good my ass. You heard it at yesterday's departmental meeting when they said I haven't been writing many articles lately."

"Ah, haha, then you go ahead and do your thing." Su Shixun clasped his hands in a fist and bowed, then quickly slipped to his seat.

I shook my head and dialed an internal number for Yang Hua.

“It’s me, Nado.”

"Damn, I can't even be bothered to walk these few steps."

"Isn't this more convenient?"

"Oh dear, when there's a story, they crowd around my seat, but when there's no story, they don't even want to move. It's so cold and heartless..."

"Alright, alright, stop joking around," I interrupted him.

"By the way, the latest news is that the police are not planning to issue arrest warrants for those mysterious people for the time being."

"Oh, why?"

"They said that so far it has not seriously threatened the normal lives of ordinary citizens, nor has it caused serious negative impacts on Shanghai, this international metropolis, so it is being investigated as a general case. It seems that the previous case, which was ordered to be solved within a time limit, has also been dropped."

"A regular case? How can that be solved?"

"I guess that's what the higher-ups mean. We didn't have any leads to begin with, and things just happened to be going downhill. By the way, what did you want to see me about?"

"I might need to go to the Municipal Bureau in a few days to retrieve some case files from over twenty years ago. I was hoping you could put in a good word for me."

"A case from over twenty years ago? Why investigate that?"

"...It's a case involving my friend's father. My friend isn't very clear about the circumstances at the time and wants to find out more."

“This…” Yang Hua hesitated slightly.

"What's wrong? Is there some trouble?"

"Originally there was no problem, but because of the case involving the mysterious person, there's been a bit of a strain with the department... We're trying to mend things. You'll have to wait a few more days, right? Tell me the situation then, and I'll try my best to resolve it."

"You lost one thing but gained another. You should have known this would happen before you did it. You're lucky you weren't kicked out of the police force after making such a big fuss."

After chatting casually with Yang Hua for a few more minutes, I hung up and started looking for the phone number of Deputy Director Zhang of the Xibaoxing Road Crematorium. I'll ask Yang Hua again in a few days; I guess he'll be treating me to a meal and trying to mend our relationship with alcohol.

The typhoon passed through these past few days, and I made an appointment with Deputy Curator Zhang for the morning of three days later.

Xibaoxing Road is a narrow road, and both sides of the funeral home are lined with shops selling wreaths, joss paper, and portraits, making a living off the dead. When I arrived there, it was a little before ten o'clock. Although it wasn't as windy and rainy as the previous days, the sky was still overcast, but quite cool.

As I walked in from the entrance, the funeral music grew louder and louder, interspersed with heart-wrenching wails. The solemn expressions of the people coming and going around me made even someone like me, who was initially unaffected, feel a tightness in my chest.

"I really have to thank you for the manuscript last time," Deputy Curator Zhang said politely to me.

"It's nothing, but this time I'm really troubling the curator," I said with a smile.

"Oh, but why do you need to investigate this?"

I glanced at Liu Er, who was standing silently to the side, and said, "My friend has never met his father, and his father did not leave any photos or portraits before he died, so he wants to find the craftsman who handled his father's body and ask if he remembers what he looks like."

Deputy Curator Zhang frowned: "It's been so many years, who could still remember?"

"It's just a wish of his, and he knows that most people probably don't remember it, but he won't give up until he comes at least once."

Deputy Curator Zhang looked at Liu Er, sighed, nodded, and then assigned a staff member to lead us to check the incineration records.

The records here are much easier to check than those at the Civil Affairs Bureau; I found them very quickly.

The family's signature was blank, with "Tilanqiao Prison" noted next to it, indicating that the body was brought from there. The section for preparing the body was also blank, but there was a flamboyant signature on the cremation board.

Before I could even see what those words meant, the staff member who was leading us said, "Oh, it's Lao Lu."

He then told us that Lao Lu was a long-time employee of the funeral home, having worked there since the 1970s and still not retired.

"Is he here today?" Liu Er asked.

"Yes, I'll take you there."

He led us through the grieving family members, walked a few steps and then stopped, turning back to us and saying, "I think... it's not a good idea to go like this. You certainly wouldn't want to stay in that kind of place. How about this, I'll take you to wait in the small reception room first, and then I'll go and call him."

Of course we said yes.

When we arrived at the reception room, he made us two cups of tea. He went out to make a phone call and came back to tell us that Lao Lu was working and would be over in a little while.

Without him explaining, I could guess that what he meant by "working" was burning corpses.

That damned Su Shih-hsun once gave us a vivid account at the dinner table of how corpses are cremated at the crematorium. They burn two batches. In the first batch, the body is stripped naked and pushed in to burn. Then, it's burned until it's half-charred and pushed out, the bones are moved around a bit, and then they continue burning. There was a daughter who wanted to stay with her mother until the very end, but when she saw the bones being pushed out after the first batch was finished, she fainted on the spot and had nightmares for over two years afterward.

So now when I think about cremating corpses, I can't help but think of the story Su Shixun told me, and I feel uneasy.

People who do this kind of work must have incredibly strong nerves; in olden times, they'd be described as having very strong yang energy. Even if they actually encountered a ghost while looking at this kind of stuff all day, they probably wouldn't be that scared.

After waiting for about half an hour, a middle-aged man wearing a blue work uniform walked in.

"Old Lu, you've finally arrived. Let me introduce you. This is the reporter from the Morning Star, and his friend Mr. You. This is Old Lu, an outstanding worker at our funeral home. You two chat, I won't keep you company any longer. You'll need to see Director Zhang later, right?"

"No, we'll be leaving after we finish talking. Please thank Director Zhang for us."

The meeting room door was gently closed. I looked closely at Old Lu sitting opposite me. He had a square face with a dark reddish tinge, thick eyebrows, and deep, clear wrinkles on his forehead.

"What's wrong? Just say it," Old Lu asked bluntly. His voice wasn't the usual loud and clear one, but rather hoarse.

"Uh..." When it comes to actually asking, I don't know where to begin. Do I remember a corpse that was burned more than 20 years ago? Such a question is really absurd.

"Actually, it's my business," Liu Er suddenly said.

“Because my father was executed, my mother refused to tell me anything about him, not even what he looked like, and there are no photos of him in the house. We found out that your body was cremated after my father was executed, so we wanted to ask if you remember what he looked like.”

"I see." Old Lu frowned, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. "I burn so many people every day, it's hard to remember when he burned them?"

"It was the afternoon of August 13, 1982."

"What? 1982?" Old Lu's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? How could I remember something from more than 20 years ago?"

"Think again, even just about some physical characteristic," I prompted him.

"It's tough," Old Lu sighed, shaking his head.

"In 1982, did you cremate any corpses that left a deep impression on you, such as those that seemed strange?"

"Special?" Old Lu's eyes lit up, and he asked Liu Er, "You said your father was executed?"

Liu Er nodded: "Yes, so it seems that no one even prepared the body before they were cremated here."

When was it?