Chapter Three: Encounter with Mo Li

A whole week flew by, and Liu Jun had been working at this little shop for seven days straight. Each day, his routine was simple: arrive, clean up, fold paper effigies, and deal with customers who came to buy funeral paper offerings or arrange funerals. Occasionally, there were errands outside, but the old man always went himself, never asking Liu Jun to accompany him. Liu Jun clocked out every night at nine and left promptly.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something about this shop he didn’t know. Judging by the business volume during the time he’d been here, the old man must be barely scraping by after paying his salary.

When Liu Jun left work, the old man never let him close the door, claiming the shop operated 24 hours a day and that there was a night shift. Liu Jun found that hard to believe—who in the funeral business would keep doors open all night? That was until the old man pulled out a cheap fluorescent sign from a dusty corner, one of those nine-dollar, free-shipping deals. It simply read, “Open 24 Hours.”

Every night after work, Liu Jun would glance at that sign and mutter to himself, “A funeral shop open 24/7? Who’s coming at this hour? Selling stuff to ghosts?” As for the night shift, Liu Jun had yet to see anyone working it. His curiosity only grew.

One evening, after finishing his shift, Liu Jun didn’t leave immediately as usual. Instead, he left the door ajar with the fluorescent sign propped outside, then crept behind a big tree across the street, peeking half his head out to watch the shop entrance. From nine until nearly eleven, the door remained shut. Just as he was about to give up and head home, the door slid open to both sides.

Liu Jun checked his phone—exactly eleven o’clock.

He thought, "Finally, it’s open. But wait—who opened the door? I didn’t see anyone. Could someone be living upstairs? No, that can’t be right. I’m here all day, and I’ve never heard a single sound from the second floor. Doesn’t seem like anyone lives there."

Determined, Liu Jun thought, “I have to go in and check. The old man may be stingy and sharp-tongued, but at least he pays me. He’s the boss. What if a thief got in? Though unlikely anyone would steal from a funeral shop, what if they recognize the old man’s prized pear-wood grandmaster’s chair? As a model citizen, a product of the nine-year compulsory education system, a devoted member of the party’s future generation, can I just ignore this? Also, if the old man loses something important and shuts down the shop in anger, where will I find such a steady job?”

With that, Liu Jun grabbed a brick from the ground and cautiously stepped inside.

The shop was empty. An old-fashioned chandelier swayed overhead, casting wavering yellow light around the room. The sound of sawing wood came from behind the counter—clack, saw, rustle. Paper effigies lined the side of the counter, seeming to smile at him in the flickering light.

“I’m screwed,” Liu Jun thought, trembling uncontrollably as if afflicted with Parkinson’s. The brick in his hand suddenly felt more like a burden than protection.

Just as his mind raced through terrifying scenarios, a figure rose behind the counter—a woman of extraordinary beauty, with long flowing hair.

“You must be Li Lao’s apprentice, right? He told me about you. My name is Mo Li,” she said gently, stepping out from behind the counter. Dressed in an elegant Hanfu embroidered with lotus flowers, Mo Li carried an ethereal grace, as if she could silence the moon and outshine the flowers.

“The drawer under the counter broke just now. I was squatting down to pull it out, but when I pulled, it slid back in. Did I scare you?” Mo Li asked.

“No, no way. I’m a man, a real man. There’s no way a little thing like that would scare me,” Liu Jun said, though his still-shaking legs betrayed his words.

“It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet? I’ll handle the night shift here. Come sit and have some water,” Mo Li offered, pouring him a cup.

“Well, I was just out for a walk to digest my food. I saw the door open and thought I’d check it out,” Liu Jun said seriously.

“Hm, it’s late. Rest a bit and go home early. You still have to open the shop during the day tomorrow,” Mo Li said.

“Alright. Are you sure you’re okay here alone? Need me to stay with you?” Liu Jun asked.

“No need. Go home early. And hey, don’t forget to toss that brick before you leave—it’s awfully heavy,” Mo Li smiled.

Her smile was breathtaking—truly captivating. Wait, brick? What brick? Liu Jun looked down and realized, “Damn it! I was holding the cup in my left hand, but my right still clutched that brick the whole time. How embarrassing—and I was bragging about not being scared!”

“Ah, haha, Mo Li, I’m really tired. I’m going to head back and sleep now. If you need anything, just call me, don’t hesitate, haha,” Liu Jun stammered and quickly stood, heading for the door, utterly mortified.

Outside, he tossed the brick back where he found it, then sheepishly hailed a cab home.

Unbeknownst to Liu Jun, a conversation about him unfolded inside the shop after he left.

“Mo Li, what do you think of this kid? I think Li Lao really messed up taking him as an apprentice. He seems a bit slow, and from what I’ve observed these past days, he’s quite greedy,” one voice said.

“Not too bad. Although he’s timid, at least he didn’t run away. His character doesn’t seem too bad. Passing down the turtle shell and star chart shouldn’t be a problem. As for being greedy, he probably just lacks money. As long as he’s not after ill-gotten gains, it’s fine,” Mo Li replied.