Chapter 4: The Morgue

A closed space on all sides, darkness so thick you couldn’t see your hand before your face, and a silence so profound that only your own breathing reached your ears—without a doubt, it was the perfect setting for a haunting.

That’s what I thought to myself, though my heart was still pounding—after all, a rookie is a rookie.

I took a deep breath and simply closed my eyes.

A breeze rose from somewhere, rustling like the first autumn wind stirring the trees.

Suddenly, I saw myself standing in that little grove. The leaves were golden, swirling down in the wind. The scene was startlingly familiar.

“Xiaofeng, hurry up!” My mother appeared not far off, waving to me with a smile.

“Xiaofeng, don’t dawdle—come on, your father’s taking you to see the elephants!” My father appeared, shaking his two mustaches and laughing heartily.

“Dad, Mom…” My eyes filled with tears as I ran toward them.

At some point, the golden grove parted to either side, revealing a broad avenue carpeted with golden leaves. My parents stood in the middle, waving to me nonstop.

I stood before the avenue and stopped in my tracks.

“Xiaofeng, why did you stop? Hurry up and come over!” my parents urged.

I smiled and murmured, “Mom, Dad, it’s so good to see you, even if this is only an illusion.”

I abruptly opened my eyes—and found myself standing at the elevator doors. The doors had opened, and if I took one step forward, I’d fall straight down the shaft from where the elevator was stuck between the eighth floors.

“He Wenjing, did you really think I couldn’t deal with you? You’re just a newly formed ghost and only capable of these mental tricks, but I have a hundred ways to send you into oblivion.” I said fiercely. I’d found her name easily enough in the hospital’s computer records.

With a bang, the elevator doors closed. The lights came back on, and the elevator resumed its downward journey.

On the second basement level, the mortuary was immediately visible at the end of the corridor.

Outside the mortuary was a duty room, manned by an old bachelor named Old Li. Guarding the mortuary was a job few wanted, and only someone with no family or attachments would do it.

People his age were content just to have work to support themselves; life and death no longer held much meaning for them.

I entered the duty room and saw Old Li fast asleep, snoring away, with half a bottle of rice wine still on the table.

At that moment, the neon lights on the mortuary’s sign flickered erratically, as if the female ghost was taunting me—do you dare come in?

As a doctor—well, an intern—I’d seen plenty of corpses. At medical school, I’d dissected dozens, and my nickname as “the dissection maniac” hadn’t been given lightly.

I steadied myself and pushed open the mortuary door. The rush of cold air made me shiver.

A quick glance showed dozens of covered bodies on either side, and in the refrigerated cabinets at the back, there were hundreds more.

Generally, the corpses left outside the freezer were “claimed” and would soon be collected by their families.

Those kept in the cabinets were either for research, unclaimed and unidentified, or being held temporarily due to criminal investigations.

Through the Nether Dragon’s Eye at my chest, I sensed the female ghost was here.

Suddenly, a chill ran up my spine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hand with nails painted bright red resting on my shoulder.

I spun around and was confronted by a blood-red mouth lunging to bite me.

Instinctively, I recoiled, but another instinct took over—my hand formed the most basic “soul-calming seal,” and I thrust it forward.

The female ghost let out a piercing wail, clearly terrified now, shrinking into a corner and contorting her face into gruesome expressions.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Ghosts didn’t seem so terrifying after all. As long as a living person’s will was strong, even an ordinary ghost couldn’t do any harm.

But I was a bit confused. The Nether Dragon’s Eye had bound me to her with a thread of the underworld, meaning our fates were now linked.

I was supposed to use occult arts to sever her obsession, but damn, how was I supposed to begin?

I racked my memory for details about such rituals, but the ghost’s grotesque faces only annoyed me further.

“He Wenjing, cut it out!” I snapped.

The ghost’s body trembled and she suddenly took on her appearance in life: high heels, short skirt, a bright red down coat, and delicate makeup on her pretty face.

“Look at you—a good student dressed like this. If someone didn’t know better, they’d think you were for sale. Students should act like students, you know—” I trailed off, realizing I had no right to judge anyone, least of all a confused female ghost. Besides, what good was lecturing someone who’d lost her mind?

Ghosts are formed from obsessions; apart from memories of their obsession, everything else is vague. The moral compass that guides the living is lost to them, and any evil suppressed in life is magnified in death.

Yet after my tirade, she looked aggrieved, on the verge of tears.

“You died in a car accident, but your resentment is so strong—was there something suspicious about the crash?” I asked.

“Zhang Hanshan, Zhang Hanshan…” she cried, her voice growing more shrill as she called the man’s name. Her features began to twist again.

I pressed my hand to my forehead. When a ghost regains their human appearance, it’s the best moment for communication. If their ghostly features return, it’s useless.

“Enough!” I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and drew breath from my dantian—a so-called “soul-calming tone,” but as a novice, I was only imagining the energy.

To my surprise, the ghost shuddered and returned to her human form.

Looks like I’d have to start with this Zhang Hanshan. But mentioning his name drove her mad, so I’d have to try another approach.

“Is there anyone you want to see?” I asked.

The female ghost paused, then tears of blood streamed down her cheeks. Softly, she said, “My father.”

I pressed her for her father’s name and address, but she only kept repeating, “Father.”

“Fine then, He Wenjing, listen to me. I’ll find a way for you to see your father, but in the meantime, you must stay here and behave. Don’t cause any trouble. If you do, don’t blame me for destroying you—do you understand?” I warned sternly.

She nodded obediently, apparently quite receptive to my authority.

Satisfied, I left the mortuary—only to see Old Li perched on the edge of his bed, staring at me through the window.

“Damn,” I thought, my heart sinking. Had he heard me yelling in the mortuary? Probably not—the door was heavy.

“Doctor Qin, here to see the bodies?” Old Li rasped.

“Heh, yes, that’s right.” I forced a laugh and headed for the elevator. Even that short exchange made my skin crawl.

Before stepping into the elevator, I glanced back. Old Li’s gaze was odd—he must have heard something. Did he think I’d been possessed?

Well, I had, in a sense…

…

When I returned to the emergency department, chaos reigned.

The families of all the critical patients brought in last night had arrived—some were wailing, others were shoving the doctors and nurses, and some were pelting them with questions.

I was used to all this. The emergency department was always like this: critical cases, high mortality, and disputes whenever families lost control.

I felt a bit dazed, remembering how I’d felt when I first applied to medical school, the fervor when the entire student body took the oath.

“I solemnly swear to dedicate my life to the service of humanity. I will practice medicine with conscience and dignity. I will not allow considerations of age, disease, religion, ethnicity, gender, race, nationality, social standing, or any other factor to intervene between my duty and my patient. I will give the utmost respect to human life. Even under threat, I will not use my medical knowledge to violate human rights and justice. I make this pledge freely and upon my honor.”

The words still echoed in my ears. I thought of my parents; it was their influence that had led me to this profession. But their true identities were probably far more complicated than I knew, and now I was following in their footsteps, stepping into the unknown.

I walked forward, threading through the tumult as if none of them existed.

Just then, the curtain of the resuscitation room across from me was pulled aside. Dean Ma and several department heads emerged, bowing and nodding.

I saw the middle-aged man I’d saved open his eyes and look at me. Inside the room stood a beautiful woman and a young woman in her early twenties, likely his family, and outside, two tall foreign bodyguards stood at attention.