Chapter 2

I didn't expect Old Zhou to give me such an answer. I began to take the matter he was talking about a bit more seriously. I waved my hand, signaling him to stop talking, then walked behind the counter, grabbed my large enamel cup, filled it with water, and drank it down. I also poured a large cup of water for Old Zhou.

The cold water helped to suppress the alcohol in my system. I always believed that matters that needed to be taken seriously shouldn't be discussed when one was a bit tipsy, as it would affect one's judgment.

As for how this stubborn habit came about, I deliberately "forgot" it.

Old Zhou wouldn't mind using my regular cup. We've been friends since childhood, and our friendship has become a part of our daily lives. Who would still remember the details of maintaining a certain distance between people?

The reason I started to take Old Zhou's words a bit more seriously was because this friendship, which we called a habit, helped me understand Old Zhou.

He cared about his reputation. For example, if he was 100% afraid but the matter could be resolved, he would tell me he wasn't afraid at all. If he was 200% afraid and the matter couldn't be resolved, but he thought he could analyze it, he would still tell me, "I don't care, I'm not afraid." It was like he was cheering himself up.

He was a doctor and encountered more inexplicable things than ordinary people. He was also quite "unlucky" and had encountered many strange things, but he never said he was afraid.

Even during his internship, when he saw the head of the department extract some strange worms from a brain surgery, he only called a few close friends to tell them about it.

I still remember the content of that call. At the end, I asked him, "Worms? Are you afraid?"

He hesitated slightly on the phone but immediately said in a very loud voice, "I'm not afraid of anything. This can be explained. Did you forget your middle school biology? It's just like the small pork tapeworm in the textbook. If a person is infected, it can also enter the brain. This patient must have eaten some infected food."

"Is that so? But I feel like the patient was cursed," I said jokingly, because in that call, Old Zhou described some symptoms of the patient, and I had such a feeling. After asking this, I regretted it, thinking I had spoken out of turn.

Sure enough, Old Zhou's attitude became "intense" immediately. He shouted on the phone, "Cursed by your sister, Old Three, can we be normal? Don't bring up your childhood—"

At that moment, I decisively hung up the phone. I didn't want to hear some things, so I didn't listen. That was my attitude at the time.

Thinking about the past, I couldn't help but be lost in thought. Old Zhou, who had already finished his water, couldn't help but shove the cup into my hand, and I snapped back to reality. Old Zhou was already a bit annoyed and shouted at me, "Are you listening or not?"

I smiled at Old Zhou, but in fact, because of his fear, I was already worried about him. However, I mumbled, "I can't guarantee I won't say something superstitious."

"I'm used to it," Old Zhou's face was still pale. He took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, threw one to me, and lit one for himself.

The cigarette in my hand was already deformed. I subconsciously fiddled with it and then lit it with Old Zhou. It was hard to believe that this guy, who had a compulsion for neatness, could take out crumpled peanuts and cigarettes. It seemed he was really scared.

This time, when I said I couldn't guarantee I wouldn't say something superstitious, he didn't get angry. Perhaps he was also experiencing some inner turmoil.

A childhood incident left a deep shadow on Old Zhou, me, and three other children. Some extreme views were formed because of this.

I knew how difficult it was for Old Zhou to overturn such extreme beliefs.

The smoke calmed the emotions, and as the blue smoke spread in my shop, Old Zhou's voice began to echo in the small store.

"Old Three, it's the morgue. It's too bizarre. The hospital is suppressing the matter, not wanting it to spread. You know, unless it's a major incident, the hospital will always suppress it. After all, in a hospital, especially in some departments, it's like a crematorium. Occasionally encountering something inexplicable, if you don't think too much about it, life can still go on normally." After the smoke, I couldn't see Old Zhou's expression clearly, but I could hear the indescribable fatigue in his voice.

I didn't respond, just took a deep puff of the cigarette, and after a long time, I said, "Hmm."

Old Zhou was right. This was also a way of life. Many ordinary people occasionally encounter some inexplicable and bizarre things, like vague breathing sounds, unclear figures, or fleeting "wonders." If you don't think too much about them, over time, you might even think you were hallucinating.

"I don't want to think too much about it. You know my attitude. If I can't explain it temporarily, I'll put it aside and wait for the so-called 'official' explanation or think that there will be a scientific proof in the future. But this time, I can't—" Old Zhou stopped talking, took a deep puff of the cigarette, and then fell silent.

The smoke dissipated, and I saw Old Zhou's face was serious, but there was a hint of dejection in his seriousness. I didn't say anything, placed a cola can ashtray in front of him, and then asked in a low voice, "Why can't you? When did it happen?"

Just a few simple words, and I already felt uneasy, though I didn't know why.

The sun was high outside, and even without feeling it, I could sense the scorching heat, making breathing feel oppressive. Yet, I felt the sky had darkened a bit, as if a storm was about to come, and I might be caught in it, drenched like a drowned rat.

But I'm just an ordinary person, right? I lightly frowned.

"Why? Because I'm the one who experienced it. I was the first to discover it, not just hearing about it. What can I do to pretend it didn't happen, to deceive myself?" Old Zhou's emotions were agitated, even angry.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. I wasn't doing it on purpose, but I couldn't help it. This guy, who was so determined and even extreme in using science to explain everything, had never had a moment of peace from childhood. Every three to five years, he would encounter one or two bizarre things that others might never experience in their entire lives. What was this? Fate playing a joke on him?

He always liked to use scientific theories to explain everything. When he couldn't, he would start deceiving himself. He even refused to believe in the existence of aliens because there was no serious scientific evidence. Despite this, he still lived a carefree life without collapsing.

"Laugh at your sister!" Old Zhou was clearly angry, reaching out to hit me. I blocked his hand, trying to suppress my laughter and become serious.

Actually, there was something I hadn't told him. I knew his八字 (bazi, or birth chart) was low, and his destiny was full of twists and turns. Combined, this made him more likely to encounter such things than ordinary people.

"But his destiny brings him 'human' luck, with danger but no harm." This was the last comment about Old Zhou's destiny, which reassured me. I couldn't doubt the person who read his destiny, and the facts proved that Old Zhou really had 'human' luck.

So-called 'human' luck means he often encounters benefactors, the people he needs, the right people, and anyone who can help him get through difficulties, with danger but no harm.

These were some of the many secrets I hadn't revealed to Old Zhou, my old friend. Since he didn't like to hear them, why should I force him?

"Not laughing, when did it happen?" I asked seriously.

"Last night." Old Zhou put down his hand, sighed, and his face turned pale again.

Since it happened last night, the memory should be clear. I deduced that the memory wasn't pleasant, so recalling it made him afraid again.

My expression didn't change. I just lowered my head, stubbed out the cigarette, threw it into the ashtray, and said, "Actually, I knew the morgue had an incident."

Old Zhou looked at me in surprise, his eyes showing a look of respect for the first time. He asked, "How did you know? The hospital suppressed the matter, and it couldn't have spread. Even the hospital's top management knows very little! You, you calculated it?"

"Ha ha." I laughed, rubbed my nose, and said, "Not really. I just smelled something on you."

"What do you mean?" Old Zhou's expression became inexplicably tense, and he started to look at himself up and down, feeling uneasy.

I played with the lighter in my hand and said, "Don't be like that. I just smelled a strong smell of formaldehyde on you, much stronger than usual. What would be soaked in formaldehyde? Of course, it's a corpse. Think about it, it must be the morgue, right? I guess it's not a normal morgue, where bodies are usually frozen. It's probably the morgue used for anatomy classes."

"Damn, really? I told you it was the morgue from the beginning. You're not just pretending to be a detective, right? The morgue—" Old Zhou suddenly stopped talking, jumped up from the stool in front of my counter, and rushed out the door.

Then he vomited at the entrance of my shop.

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