Chapter 43: Lu Li Is Dead, Burn Paper Offerings If Needed
Chapter 43: Lu Li Is Dead, Burn Paper for the Deceased
"Amida Buddha! Lay down your arms and no one will be harmed! Hmm?"
A group of bald men and others wearing headscarves, all armed with assault rifles and arranged in squads of three, stormed into Old Locust Village.
But the outcome was deeply disappointing.
Not a single soul was to be found within the village.
Dozens of them carried assault rifles, with rocket launchers and excavators standing by, yet they had come up empty-handed? It couldn’t be possible!
"Amida Buddha. All disciples, listen to the orders! Search the entire village immediately!"
Without a word, the monks quickly split into groups of three and began a thorough search of the village.
After nearly twenty minutes, a young monk hurried over to inform Shi Yongfa, "Master Uncle, we’ve found something."
He then leaned close to Shi Yongfa’s ear and whispered a few words.
"Hmm."
Shi Yongfa’s expression shifted, and he hurried to find Pan Shuai. "Patron Pan, the person has been found."
"Oh?" Pan Shuai, who had been trying to glean information from Xingtian, suddenly perked up. "Where?"
"Under the tree behind the ancestral hall."
Shi Yongfa’s tone grew heavy. "Patron Pan, please prepare yourself mentally."
A chill ran through Pan Shuai’s heart; he had a bad feeling.
Pushing through the crowd, he dashed toward the village ancestral hall, with Xingtian closely following behind.
Xingtian shared the same ominous premonition.
Soon, their fears were confirmed.
The village ancestral hall was an open courtyard located at the village’s edge.
Beside it stood a small hillock, where a massive old locust tree, over a hundred meters tall, towered.
Entering the hall, Pan Shuai furrowed his brow.
Though the tables and chairs were neatly arranged, the air was heavy with a musty decay.
The real issue lay in the backed chairs lining the sides.
Each chair held a black-and-white portrait.
Ordinarily, such a display would be found in a mourning hall.
But here, there were over thirty frames adorned with black-and-white half-length photos.
What was going on?
Without further hesitation, Pan Shuai moved swiftly through the hall, instinctively slowing his steps and breathing.
Xingtian, who had followed him, glimpsed the scene beneath the old locust tree on the hillock behind the hall and instantly turned pale.
A light breeze rustled the towering tree’s leaves.
Beneath the tree, a man sat leaning against the trunk.
At his feet lay two mummified corpses.
Those two wore the same black suits as Pan Shuai.
They had to be the two missing employees from the Supernatural Bureau who had vanished in Old Locust Village.
And the man sitting with his eyes closed, as if asleep, was none other than Lu Li.
Xingtian’s brows knitted tightly. "He can’t be..."
Pan Shuai’s face darkened as he stepped forward, raised his hand with a slight tremble, and resolutely reached out to touch Lu Li’s nose.
Then he withdrew his hand and silently lit a cigarette.
After a long moment, he cursed harshly, "Damn it!"
Xingtian gritted his teeth and checked Lu Li’s neck.
His skin was icy cold.
There was no pulse whatsoever.
Lu Li was most likely dead.
Xingtian’s mind went blank.
This was Lu Li! That boss-level monster who could traverse worlds!
How could he just die without explanation?
If it were that simple to kill him, how terrifying would the real boss be?
Fear suddenly gripped him.
---
Lu Li scratched his neck.
The woman in the red wedding dress sitting opposite him had pink eyes that shimmered with inquiry.
"It’s nothing," Lu Li smiled. "Just a sudden itch on my neck."
"My beloved, I have prepared the foot bath; we may retire soon."
The pale-haired woman’s eyes softened as she gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
In that moment, the classical elegance she radiated made Lu Li’s heart skip a beat.
"Huai—" Lu Li suddenly hesitated.
What was the most fitting way to address her?
Miss Huai? Miss Huai Xuer? Xuer?
But he clearly saw the surname on the spirit tablet just now.
Miss Huai Xuer’s family name in life should have been Dong, though her full name remained unknown—the name on the tablet seemed deliberately erased.
"Miss Dong?"
"Miss Dong," Huai Xuer murmured the name repeatedly, her mind seeming somewhat distracted.
Lu Li found it curious. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," Huai Xuer lowered her head and smiled lightly. "It’s just that this name sounds somewhat familiar."
"Could it be you’re not surnamed Dong?"
"I should be," she smiled softly, "but I have no memories of my life before death. Who I was, where I came from, why I died—I know none of these."
No memories of life before death?
Lu Li probed gently, "Have you ever thought about reclaiming your past memories?"
"No need. Those belong to my life before death. And if I were still alive, I doubt I’d have the chance to meet you again."
Huai Xuer smiled sweetly, her eyes crescent-shaped.
Her smile was beautiful but carried an unsettling undertone, like a wicked grin hinting at some secret scheme.
Mysterious, yet captivating.
From their brief interaction, Lu Li felt Huai Xuer was quite straightforward and easy to converse with.
She answered every question with a gentle warmth, unlike the aggressive Miss Bai or the enigmatic Miss Luo.
Yet Lu Li hadn’t forgotten the series of things she had done, nor the appraisal from the matchmaking app.
“She acts unpredictably, making it hard to discern her thoughts, but in reality, she is a meticulous, calm, and purpose-driven individual.”
---
He also recalled the final line of the evaluation:
“As the saying goes, when a person dies, they become a ghost; when a ghost dies, they fade into silence and invisibility. Hence, many cannot see or hear her—she is a very lonely soul.”
The description felt almost personified.
A lonely one indeed.
Lu Li forced a smile and suddenly asked, "Then what should I call you now?"
"You may simply call me Huai Xuer, my beloved, or... or..." Lowering her head, her porcelain face flushed rosy, "Wife... that’s not impossible."
"Besides, the name ‘Huai Xuer’ was given by you, so it’s perfectly fine to use it."
"You gave me that name?" Lu Li’s senses sharpened.
That was a significant detail.
It meant Huai Xuer had met him before, though he had no recollection of her.
After all, she was a ghost of the ‘Xi Yi’ type.
Her attire and manner of speech suggested she was from ancient times.
Had he met her before, he would surely have remembered.
Could it be that when he was born, he encountered some ominous hour, destined not to live past eighteen, and his grandfather took him to a graveyard to find some ancient female figure, gifting him as a child husband?
Was such a thing even possible?
But Lu Li quickly dismissed the idea.
He had lived in the city since birth; his grandparents had lived there too, and his ancestral home was in the county seat.
He had never been to such a village.
Moreover, he was born on December 31st at 11 p.m., the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, which bore no relation to any ominous hours.
So the truth was clear.
This girl had indeed seen him before.
But recalling what Miss Luo had said before leaving—“I am waiting for you in the past”—it was likely that Huai Xuer had met a future version of him.
While Lu Li pondered this, Huai Xuer suddenly rose and began to undress.
Startled, Lu Li asked, "In such a hurry?"
Huai Xuer’s slender, pale fingers trembled slightly; a blush spread from her porcelain cheeks down to her earlobes and neck.
Her eyes narrowed; her voice was a soft whisper, "When we parted before, my beloved said that the next time we met would be when we married. And..."
She suddenly took Lu Li’s hand.
Her touch was ice-cold.
"My beloved, are you cold?"
Lu Li nodded. "Yes."
Huai Xuer’s crescent eyes, though shy, held a boldness.
"You once told me that even if the body is cold, as long as someone remembers me, the heart remains warm."
Pausing, she spoke words that struck Lu Li profoundly.
"I don’t know if my heart is warm or cold inside, my beloved—do you want to know?"
Lu Li: "!!!"
Oh? Could this be the legendary "cold exterior, warm heart"?
At that moment, he admitted he had misunderstood.
Thanks to the generous support of readers: Confession Pig, Reader 141015175425081, h 0.01, Glasses qwq, Memory Xinran, Reader 20210217103211179, Fat Tiger’s Crayon Shin-chan, Reader 20201219154855308, Daughter 682 Saigao, and Lord Junlin’s Blame.
(End of chapter)