Chapter 9: Fushou Store

Zhou Langxing looked at himself in the mirror, unsure whether he should feel fortunate or sad.

The twins’ faces were similar, almost identical. As long as Zhou Langxing was alive, he and everyone around him would never forget Zhou Shurong.

Even when he grew old, he could still see the elderly Zhou Shurong in the mirror.

His brother died, yet haunted him for a lifetime.

How suffocating.

Others would rely on Zhou Langxing to remember Zhou Shurong. When they looked at him, who were they really seeing?

***

The room was so dark. Was it night?

The windows were covered with thick curtains, completely blocking out the light. The lights weren’t on, but the air conditioning was running, sending a cool breeze that chilled his back. Zhou Langxing sat uneasily.

He sat on a light green sofa, having just finished eating. The housekeeper had taken the dishes to the kitchen. The living room seemed like it had an invisible barrier, isolating all sounds.

It was so quiet.

So cold.

Zhou Langxing glanced towards the kitchen, and suddenly heard a sound—huh! It startled him!

The TV had turned on by itself, slowly displaying the startup screen.

Who turned on the TV?

Did someone accidentally sit on the remote?

Zhou Langxing stood up to search for the remote, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure—sitting on the other end of the sofa, with an elegant posture, gazing straight ahead, leisurely watching the TV.

The remote was in his hand. Zhou Langxing broke out in cold sweat, as the TV’s sound kept switching. The man seemed to be looking for a program he was satisfied with.

Zhou Langxing stared at him.

His muddled mind told him that this person shouldn’t be here.

“Why are you here?”

“Where do you think I should be?” He turned his head, smiling gently, his eyes frosted.

“You should…” His tongue seemed out of control. “Be…”

“Underground,” he interjected.

Zhou Langxing’s brain finally cleared, “Yes! You should be—”

The curtains suddenly opened, and sunlight poured in, flooding the sofa.

Zhou Shurong’s graceful appearance was gone. His skin, his flesh, his bones melted away like a slug meeting coarse salt, quickly dissolving into a puddle of flowing pus.

No, that wasn’t pus!

It was a shapeless shadow.

His whole body was pitch black, his face blurred, lacking any features, no longer staring at him with cold eyes.

But Zhou Langxing knew he was still watching him.

Where there’s light, there’s shadow. He was everywhere!

***

Zhou Langxing suddenly opened his eyes. He was sitting on the bed, panting heavily.

This was undoubtedly a nightmare.

Thoughts during the day, dreams at night?

Or was it a warning from Zhou Shurong from beyond?

He drank a glass of cold water, which made his body tremble. Zhou Langxing left the room. It was one in the morning, and the hallway was empty, devoid of light. He used a key to open Zhou Shurong’s room.

The vase on the nightstand was bare. After Zhou Shurong passed away, Zhou Langxing had been unconscious in a hospital bed. No one had taken care of the cheap dried flowers in the vase, which had been thrown away by an ignorant servant as trash.

Zhou Langxing stared at the vase and said, “When I make my dried flowers, I’ll give you two.”

Isn’t this a kind of boasting?

“Your seventh day is coming soon. I should visit your grave. Oh, and I’ll give Qin Yan a call. He doesn’t want to see me tomorrow, but he definitely wants to see you.”

TN: It is believed that on the seventh day, the spirit of the deceased returns home one last time to visit loved ones, say goodbye, or observe how they are mourning

A warning? Useless!

***

Qin Yan woke up early.

Tomorrow was Zhou Shurong’s seventh day, and he planned to buy some incense, candles, and paper money.

He normally didn’t pay attention to such stores, so he relied on his phone’s map software. Following the directions, he took a bus and arrived at an unfamiliar street.

When he tried to check the directions again, the internet slowed down, and the circle in the upper right kept spinning. Qin Yan frowned and looked up. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a “Fushou Store” wedged between buildings.

To the left was a cheap budget hotel, and to the right was another hotel, priced at 999 yuan per night. Ridiculously expensive for its appearance, the old building had a missing character from the sign. Who would believe 999 yuan wasn’t a joke?

Both hotels had high floors, but Fushou Store was stuck between them, small and narrow, like an old, dilapidated building that should have been torn down long ago.

The network hadn’t recovered yet, and Qin Yan couldn’t find the incense store he was looking for. The street was quiet, with very few people. He decided to go into Fushou Store to buy something.

Qin Yan put away his phone and pushed open the door to enter.

The elderly man at the counter was sleeping with his eyes closed. Qin Yan gently tapped the wooden counter and said, “Hello.”

The elderly man asked, “What do you want to buy?”

Qin Yan was taken aback. The elderly man’s eyes remained closed, seeming blind. He couldn’t help but show some extra care for the blind old man’s business.

“Sorry, I want to buy incense, paper money… and some other things… you recommend.”

Hearing this, the old man leaned forward and made a sniffing gesture. “For a funeral?”

“He was buried 6 days ago.”

“What’s the relationship?”

Qin Yan was puzzled. Do you really need to share such private matters when buying these things? Originally, he didn’t intend to reveal the truth. An elderly man wouldn’t understand the love between two men.

But when he looked at the old man’s wrinkled face, his words changed. “Lover.”

The blind old man nodded and grinned. Qin Yan noticed that he had no teeth. His voice suddenly turned eerie and hoarse, “So—” he asked softly, “Do you want him to come back, or do you want to completely leave him?”

Qin Yan was struck as if hit by lightning, frozen for a long time. He stared at the old man’s face, aged by time, his voice trembling, “What… what do you mean?!”

The blind old man repeated, “Do you want him to come back, or do you want to completely leave him?”

The muscles on Qin Yan’s face twitched, and he took a deep breath. The strange, musty smell in the room made his head feel a little dizzy.

He felt that he hadn’t opened his mouth, yet he heard his own voice: “I want him to come back, to be by my side, and never leave again!”

The old man laughed, “I love people like you, who are so stubborn.”

He turned and pulled something out from a wall of traditional Chinese medicine cabinets, putting it into a black plastic bag, then placed it on the counter. He took out a piece of yellowed paper and pushed it over as well.

“Twenty years of your life, please sign the contract!”

“Burn it for him on the seventh day, the steps are detailed inside, just follow them. Remember, don’t open it before the seventh day! Remember!”

Qin Yan’s mind was cloudy, and he absentmindedly signed his name.

After walking out of the shop with the black plastic bag, the sunlight hit him, and his mind cleared. His face was a mix of shock and expectation as he turned back to look at the Fu Shou Shop.

In the doorframe, the old man was leaning on the counter, eyes closed, seemingly asleep again.

Qin Yan took a deep breath, steadied himself, and suddenly his phone rang.

Looking at the caller ID, he hesitated for a moment before answering:

“Hello, what’s up? I ate… I’m outside… Ah! You’re going to the cemetery? Alone? … Well, then I’ll go too… Okay… Goodbye.”

The sun hung high in the sky. Qin Yan blinked against the light. Before answering the call, he had already decided that if Zhou Langxing invited him anywhere, he would decline. However, he would never refuse to visit Zhou Shurong at the cemetery.

Moreover, Zhou Langxing was planning to go alone, with that injured leg…

Decisions made the day before can hardly be reached the next day, and Qin Yan felt frustrated. But soon, he looked at the black plastic bag in his hand, and his frustration vanished.

He tightly gripped the bag, as if holding onto the last straw.

After one last long look at the “Fushou Shop” sign, he hailed a car and left.

In the car, the rearview mirror reflected Qin Yan’s uneasy face.

He carefully opened the plastic bag and peeked inside. There was a plain wooden box.

The blind old man’s words echoed in his ears—“Don’t open it before the seventh day! Remember!”

What’s inside the wooden box?

Does Zhou Shurong really have a chance to come back to him?

Qin Yan closed his eyes, his mind in turmoil, his lips turning pale. His heart was pounding fiercely.

The car stopped outside the cemetery. Qin Yan saw Zhou Langxing through the car window. The man had broad shoulders and long legs, and even with a crutch, he exuded an undeniable vitality.

At Zhou Shurong’s funeral, Qin Yan had heard some rumors. The two brothers had had an accident on the same day. Zhou Shurong had died, and Zhou Langxing had been unconscious for almost three days…

Their fates were so different.

Qin Yan couldn’t hold back his pain. As he got out of the car, he raised his hand slightly, shielding both the sunlight and the emotion in his eyes.

He walked slowly toward Zhou Langxing, who hadn’t noticed him yet, wearing Bluetooth earphones, seemingly lost in whatever he was listening to.

“When’s the opening?”

“On the 3rd of next month?”

“Okay, I’ll definitely go. See you.”

It turned out he was on the phone. Qin Yan stood there for a moment, waiting for him to finish his call, then waved gently, “Hi, Langxing.”

Zhou Langxing suddenly turned his head, revealing a bouquet of yellow flowers in his arms.

Qin Yan’s face changed.

“Roses?”

“They’re my brother’s favorite flowers.” Zhou Langxing stood up and explained, his eyes searching for Qin Yan’s expression, his tone slightly strange, “You didn’t know?”