Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Huailing Town was nestled in a mountain hollow. By the time the car reached the town entrance, the sky was pitch black.

I hadn’t been back in fifteen years, and the town looked even more dilapidated than I remembered. The shops along the street closed early, with strings of faded red lanterns hanging from their eaves. When the wind blew, the paper lanterns knocked softly against each other, sounding like someone whispering through chattering teeth.

The navigation led me to the end of the old street.

Ahead was a narrow alley that the car couldn’t enter. I shouldered my equipment bag, grabbed my suitcase, and headed inside.

At the mouth of the alley, a paper effigy shop was still lit.

Paper horses, paper children, and mountains of gold and silver were piled at the entrance. Deep inside sat a paper mansion with three courtyards. The gateways, screen walls, and corridor pillars were all crafted with extreme detail; the vermilion doors were even studded with two black door nails.

As I passed by, the old woman in the shop suddenly looked up.

Her eyes were cloudy white as she stared at me for a long time.

“Little Jiu of the Zhou family?” she asked.

I stopped in my tracks. “You recognize me?”

The old woman didn’t answer. She simply reached out and pointed at the paper mansion. “You can’t stay in this house.”

I followed her finger.

On the lintel of that paper mansion, three small characters were written: Zhou family residence.

The back of my neck slowly went cold.

“Who ordered this?” I asked.

The old woman pulled her hand back into her sleeve. “A dead person ordered it.”

I frowned. “Don’t joke with me.”

She lowered her head and continued painting eyebrows on a paper figure. “In a place like Huailing, the living burn paper mansions, and the dead live in them. But your Zhou Family is different. Back then, what your family burned wasn’t a house, but a gate.”

“What gate?”

The old woman said no more.

I pulled out my phone, intending to take a photo of the paper mansion, only to find the screen completely black. The phone clearly had power, but I couldn’t see anything through the lens, as if someone were covering it with their hand.

I put my phone away and continued deeper into the alley.

I remembered the location of the old Zhou residence very clearly. Cross the stone well under the locust tree, turn left, and it was at the very end.

But when I reached the spot in my memory, my footsteps halted.

There was no empty lot.

An old residence stood quietly in the night.

Green bricks, grey tiles, the wooden door left ajar, and two white lanterns swaying slightly at the entrance. A plaque crisscrossed with cracks hung over the lintel, bearing two words.

Zhou residence.

The house that had been burned to ashes fifteen years ago was back.

I stood at the door for a full minute.

Professional habit led me to examine the structure first. The walls were damp, dust had accumulated on the eaves, and the threshold was blackened by woodworms. This wasn’t a newly built replica-at least, it didn’t look like one.

I called Old Xu.

The first time, it wouldn’t connect.

The second time, there was only the sound of static.

The third time, it finally went through, but Old Xu’s voice sounded very distant. “Zhou Jiu, where are you?”

“I’m at the old residence,” I said.

There was a moment of silence on the other end. “Are you kidding me? I just checked the satellite map. That place is still an empty lot.”

I looked up at the lintel. “There is a house in front of me.”

“Don’t go in yet.”

“The mission has already started.” I glanced at my watch; it was 10:53 PM.

“Mission, my ass.” Old Xu’s voice suddenly became urgent. “I just asked the Dispatch Department. There are no orders for Huailing Town today at all. There’s no record of your mission in the system.”

My heart sank. “Then what did I receive?”

A soft tapping sound came through the phone.

It sounded like someone was knocking on a desk on Old Xu’s end.

Then, his voice became very slow. “Zhou Jiu, go inside.”

I gripped my phone tight. “Old Xu?”

“Go inside,” the voice on the other end continued. “A meal has been left for you in the house.”

I hung up immediately.

At that moment, the door opened on its own.

A damp smell of ash surged out from within, filling my nostrils. I knew that smell all too well. Fifteen years ago, when I woke up in the hospital, that smell had been in my hair, my clothes, and every pore of my skin.

I turned on my Law Enforcement Recorder, adjusted the night vision camera, and scanned the entrance, the courtyard, and the main hall one by one.

Everything looked normal through the lens.

There was a vat in the courtyard with faded red paper stuck to its rim. The doors to the east and west wing rooms were closed. On the offering table in the main hall sat seven spirit tablets, with a white porcelain bowl in front of each one.

The bowls were half-filled with rice.

Chopsticks were stuck upright in the rice.

I approached the offering table, my light sweeping across the tablets.

Zhou Deshan, my grandfather.

Lin Guizhi, my grandmother.

Zhou Mingyuan, my father.

Chen Suqin, my mother.

Zhou Ping, my uncle.

Zhou Xiaoman, my cousin.

And the last one.

Zhou Jiu.

I stared at that final tablet, my throat feeling as if it were blocked by ash.

The tablet didn’t say “Youngest Son of the Zhou Family” or “A certain Zhou.” It clearly stated my name.

Born on the 9th day of the 7th lunar month, Year of Dingchou.

Died on the 9th day of the 7th lunar month, Year of Jiashen.

In that fire fifteen years ago, I was on the list of the dead.