Flowers of the Departed Souls - Chapter 41

Wencheng Museum. 0:45 AM.

Old Zhang, half-asleep, seemed to hear a sound. Elderly people tend to be light sleepers, easily woken by slight noises, especially in this museum, which becomes exceptionally quiet at night.

Old Zhang was the night watchman here, having worked for over ten years. However, ever since this female corpse, referred to as the Liangzhu woman, was brought to the museum, he had felt a sense of unease. He had seen many corpses. The museum displayed many ancient corpses from the Ming and Qing dynasties. Although they didn’t completely retain their original appearance, they were basically dark. Especially the sparse, black hair on their heads, it still looked terrifying.

But he had never seen such a lifelike female corpse. Although Old Zhang didn’t understand archaeology, having spent so many years with these corpses and the precious burial artifacts excavated from tombs, he did know some basic things. How could a four-thousand-year-old female corpse be more vibrant than corpses from the Ming and Qing dynasties? Was it merely some embalming technique or related to specific environmental conditions?

Old Zhang not only didn’t feel like those archaeologists, who were overjoyed as if they had found a treasure, but instead felt it was an ominous object. All things that too greatly defied natural rules were evil. However, looking at the woman in the coffin, he also felt she was pure and kind. These two extremely contradictory feelings tormented him. He didn’t know why, but he found himself worrying about this female corpse.

In his semi-conscious state, Old Zhang seemed to hear a rhythmic sound, “Hoo-hoo—hoo-hoo—” It sounded like an animal panting. Had a dog gotten in? Old Zhang suddenly remembered the corpses in the museum. He instantly sobered up. Old Zhang was originally an atheist. There had been “ghosts” here before because some dead people were stored, naturally making the place very yin. As soon as night fell, the place became almost empty. Ordinary people were unwilling to approach here. So, the museum, seemingly bustling during the day, was incredibly desolate at night. For a period, in the middle of the night, Old Zhang often heard footsteps. The footsteps always sounded very rhythmic, and the sound seemed to come from the morgue. Thinking of those shriveled, bluish corpses inside, even Old Zhang, who didn’t believe in ghosts, felt a chill down his spine. Later, he pulled out a few half-broken hanging wooden pieces from the ventilation holes, and the sound disappeared.

Now? What was playing this trick again? A mouse? A stray cat? A broken exhaust fan? Or something else at work?

The more Old Zhang listened, the clearer and closer the sound became. Ever since the new female corpse arrived, his heart had never known peace. At this moment, he could no longer restrain himself. He put on his coat, grabbed a flashlight, walked to the door, thought for a moment, still took the electric bat from beside the bed, and then stepped out.

He listened intently to the sound. It was still “hoo-hoo—hoo-hoo—” slow, yet very rhythmic, like a heart gradually approaching failure. Yes, it was more like a thump-thump of a heart. At this thought, he became very nervous. A heart? Why would I think of a heart? Was it that the older one gets, the closer one gets to death, the more timid one becomes, becoming sensitive and afraid of everything related to death? Sigh, I wasn’t like this before.

He sighed and used the key to open the hall door. The hall was filled with glass cabinets, containing bronze and ancient porcelain artifacts, mostly from the Qing Dynasty, all locked. Of course, he didn’t have those keys. He swept the flashlight around. There was nothing unusual inside. The items didn’t seem to be missing or damaged. The morgue was in a secluded room at the end of the hall, so he walked through the hall, continuing forward. The sound still went thump-thump, thump-thump. Old Zhang suddenly suspected it was the devil’s temptation, constantly attracting him to walk closer, actually walking step by step towards hell, step by step towards death, perhaps an endless, black abyss.

The closer he got to the room containing the Liangzhu female corpse, the clearer the sound became. Old Zhang felt a chill down his spine, as if someone had been following him the entire time. From the moment he opened the main hall door, that person’s eyes had been staring directly at him. Those eyes radiated a cold light like millennia-old black ice. Old Zhang abruptly turned his head, but there was nothing behind him, only cold wind continuously pouring in from the open main door, passing ghost-like through the glass cabinets and their gaps, while the glass cabinets glowed with an eerie light under his flashlight.

He pressed his ear against the door for several seconds, confirming that the sound must be coming from inside. He thought of the shriveled, dark corpses inside, and the newly arrived female corpse with a fresh appearance. He really didn’t want to go in. At this moment, he regretted why he had come here. How nice it would be to just lie quietly in bed. But now that he was here, and had found the source of the sound, he knew he couldn’t turn back. Some things, he truly couldn’t not do even if he wanted to. At this moment, he already had a feeling of being beyond his own control.

Or, the female corpse had come back to life, and the thump-thump sound was her heartbeat. From weak to steady, wasn’t that the process of life reviving? He suddenly startled himself for having such an absurd thought. What’s wrong with me today? When did I become so neurotic?

He forced himself to calm down, then found the key to the morgue. The moment he opened the door, his flashlight swept across, and he instantly saw the Liangzhu female corpse sitting up.

Her eyes, eerie yet bewildered, stared directly at him.