Corpse Retriever

Shijia Bridge was right on the road, so for safety, Li Zhuiyuan stood by the roadside under the bridge, glancing south every now and then to check for the car, and occasionally casting a look at Uncle Qin beside him.

Uncle Qin noticed Li Zhuiyuan’s gaze repeatedly falling on him and asked with a lowered voice, “Is there something you want to ask?”

“Uncle, was the movie good last night?”

“Mm, it was good. Pity you and Ah Li were sitting too far off to the side—you probably couldn’t see it clearly.”

“I saw it fine. It was good.”

Then Li Zhuiyuan fell silent and stopped looking at the person next to him.

Uncle Qin straightened up. He’d thought the boy was going to ask about that matter, but he didn’t.

This kid always seemed to understand boundaries, which made him likable.

But on further thought, it seemed that whenever things reached a critical juncture, he never hesitated to cross those boundaries—like last time, and this time too.

A black sedan slowed as it pulled up by the bridge. The window rolled down, and a woman with permed waves stuck her head out.“Hello, are you Li Zhuiyuan?”

“Yes.”

“Luo Gong sent me to pick you up. Get in.”

The car made a turn and came to a stop.

Li Zhuiyuan and Uncle Qin got in, both taking the backseat.

To make up for time, the driver sped up, sometimes swerving or braking sharply to dodge unlit bicycles and tricycles.

After a while, Li Zhuiyuan started to feel queasy—he was carsick.

Things were urgent, so he was too embarrassed to ask the driver to slow down. He instead fumbled with the small crank on the door to open the window for some air.

He turned and turned, but the window didn’t budge. A few more tries, and the crank came off in his hand.

Li Zhuiyuan had to reattach it, then leaned back against the seat in frustration.

At that moment, Uncle Qin leaned over and pressed his palm to the window.

With a grating squeal, the window was forcibly slid down.

Fresh air rushed in, and Li Zhuiyuan let out a relieved breath.

Still, he worried the driver might get angry. But she seemed too focused on the road to notice what had happened in the back.

Li Zhuiyuan tried cranking the handle in the other direction and found he could raise the window again—finally putting his mind at ease.

After helping with the window, Uncle Qin leaned back and closed his eyes, as if asleep.

Li Zhuiyuan turned slightly too, resting his head against the seat to try and doze off.

But somehow, the car’s vibrations were strangely loud, especially with his ear against the seat—it was like wind was constantly howling.

At first, he thought it was just airflow from the open window. He rolled it up again, leaving only a small gap.

But when he leaned back into the same position, the wind noise didn’t change at all.

He couldn’t help but wonder: was this Japanese car made of paper?

Out of curiosity, he pressed against the seat back—and his hand sank into a dent that didn’t spring back.

Li Zhuiyuan sat up silently. Alright then, no more sleeping—he’d just tough it out until they reached the hospital.

He stared out the window. The township road had no streetlights, so there wasn’t much to see in the pitch-black outside. But every time they passed through a town, stores and sparse crowds came into view.

The lights from those stores, though—too bright.

For a moment, it felt like the light wasn’t just streaming in from the windows, but as if the entire car was glowing.

But this wasn’t the city center, and town shops didn’t have that many neon signs.

The car left the rural road and entered the city. The road improved, but traffic picked up.

Cars were chaotic—cutting lanes without signals, speeding ahead without care. The driver kept honking and cursing under her breath.

Her thick Nantong dialect was so spot-on that even Li Weihan, Li Zhuiyuan’s grandfather, probably couldn’t speak it as fluently.

The journey wasn’t easy, but finally, the building of the People’s Hospital came into view ahead.

Just then, Li Zhuiyuan noticed the driver staring at him and Uncle Qin through the rearview mirror. When their eyes met, they locked in a silent stare.

What confused Li Zhuiyuan was—the driver never looked back at the road.

Through the windshield, he could see the car had veered into oncoming traffic. A truck was speeding straight at them.

“Watch out!” Li Zhuiyuan shouted.

But the driver kept her eyes glued to the rearview mirror. She didn’t brake—she accelerated.

At this rate, they’d crash into the truck any second.

Uncle Qin opened his eyes. He raised both feet and stomped down.

Bang!

Li Zhuiyuan’s eyes widened. He saw Uncle Qin’s feet punch through the car floor!

Then Uncle Qin reached out and grabbed the boy by the neck—Li Zhuiyuan felt himself being lifted.

It was a strange sensation. One moment he was in the car, the next, it felt like his body had been separated from it in motion. What followed shattered all known laws of physics.

Crash—

Seats, rear windshield, trunk—all tore past his body.

He felt the impact. It hurt a little, but not badly.

In the next instant, he was outside, standing on the road, being held by Uncle Qin. Ahead, the sedan they’d just been in—now with a gaping hole in the back—slammed head-on into the truck.

But there was no crash sound. The car broke apart mid-air. What remained was crushed beneath the truck’s wheels.

Everywhere, bamboo sticks, wooden slats, and colorful paper scraps flew.

The car—it had been made of paper!

Uncle Qin turned sideways and led Li Zhuiyuan up the steps. The truck rumbled past, and in its cab, the driver was rubbing his eyes and checking the rearview mirror repeatedly.

He seemed to think he’d hit something—and wasn’t sure if it was a hallucination caused by fatigue.

Uncle Qin set Li Zhuiyuan down. The boy took a deep breath and asked, “Uncle, what kind of car were we just in?”

“You’ve seen one. There’s one on the first floor at home.”

“But…” Li Zhuiyuan looked around and back at the hospital building. “We really made it to the People’s Hospital?”

“Yes.”

He instinctively reached out to touch Uncle Qin’s arm. He couldn’t tell if this Uncle Qin was real or another illusion. What if he wasn’t even holding the soy sauce bottle this time?

Uncle Qin pointed ahead. “That’s the hospital entrance. Not going in?”

“But… are we really here?”

“Where else?”

“How did we get here?”

Li Zhuiyuan frowned. He could understand paper effigies turning into people. He could accept the surreal things in dreams. He could even accept that he just rode in a car made of paper.

But he couldn’t understand how they’d actually arrived in the city—from Siyuan Village—in a paper car.

Uncle Qin gently patted his shoulder and said, “She carried us here.”

“Huh?”

Uncle Qin didn’t elaborate. “Let’s go. If we dawdle any longer, your big friend might die.”

“Oh, right.”

Li Zhuiyuan set aside his thoughts and followed Uncle Qin into the hospital. At this hour, they should probably check at the ER first.

But on the steps outside the building, he spotted the female driver from earlier—same clothes, same wavy hair.

She held some documents or test results and looked anxious, stopping passing staff to ask questions.

Most importantly, she didn’t seem to recognize them at all. Even when they were right in front of her, she showed no reaction.

“Uncle, is she alive?”

“Mm.”

Li Zhuiyuan stepped forward and asked, “Auntie, can I ask where Xue Liangliang is right now?”

“Kid, who are you?”

“My name’s Li Zhuiyuan. Director Luo sent me.”

“Director Luo… but the car I arranged just left a short while ago. You came on your own?”

“Mm.”

“Well then, come with me. I’ll take you up.”

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