"It’s right here, we’re really close."
In the middle of the night, the car stopped in front of the cetery. As soon as the gravekeeper saw the headlights, he imdiately ca out holding a flashlight.
Feng Yao carried his laptop and walked up quickly. He pulled out his Scorching Sun Departnt ID and showed it to the gravekeeper. The guy didn’t say a word, just turned around and went back, even opened the gate for them as a favor.
Anyone working as a gravekeeper here isn’t just so clueless regular.
Back when the real luxury furnace was first developed, and before the whole sea burial and scattering ashes procedure got settled, this place was the hotspot for all sorts of weird shit happening.
At that ti, every cetery had a Scorching Sun Departnt combat team stationed there for the long run.
Especially ten years ago, when the spiritual energy resurgence suddenly sped up and stepped into a new phase, the Scorching Sun Departnt spent years seriously lacking manpower.
Even now, most people in the Scorching Sun Departnt are still just regular folks. Professionals, Taoists, monks, or other quirky talents—they’re all rare.
Back then, Nanwu County was actually not so bad. Not having much historical baggage turned out to be a blessing at tis like those. Two thousand years back, this place was a wicked exile spot for criminals.
The real headaches were for the Scorching Sun branch minister in Guanzhong County—he was so stressed his hair was falling out.
Can you imagine, just riding the subway, and there might be all sorts of old ghosts living in the dirt above, below, and all around?
When things first blew up, you’d look out the subway window and a bunch of heads would stick out from inside the wall, all curious and peeking at the outside world.
Building a subway ant spending half your ti just negotiating demolition with those old ghosts. It was a total nightmare.
Start work in the morning, by the afternoon you’ve dug right into soone’s tomb. Then the archaeology team, the Scorching Sun Departnt, plus Guanzhong County’s special Demolition Office under the Scorching Sun Departnt all show up. For the next two months, you can forget about getting any work done.
In the end, several planned routes were just scrapped altogether. Why bother at all at that point?
Originally, this should’ve just been a few departnts’ business, but one day, soone pointed out that a museum artifact on display was actually a fake—the original owner said so.
That’s when the whole ss really started spreading, and everything went completely sideways.
Nowadays, when it cos to antiques from certain eras in Guanzhong County, their appraisers are the absolute authorities.
You, a modern person, how could you know more than the original owner of an antique who’s handled it for decades?
The old owner used it for tea for years, and the marks are long soaked in; they know exactly where they were buried after death. But you dig up so useless knockoff and call it genuine, and don’t even let them speak up?
Feng Yao rembered those wild days ten years ago and started telling Wen Yan about it.
The reason he first joined the Scorching Sun Departnt was because they were so desperate for people; he spent quite a while stationed at ceteries, trying to explain policies to those mischievous little spirits. Letting them understand the Scorching Sun Departnt’s stance was seriously hard work.
Now, the cetery at night is just cold and deserted—nothing much there. One gravekeeper is enough to keep watch.
Old Zhao followed behind, looking at the mass of tombstones scattered over the hillside, and let out a sigh.
"I’d heard ho prices were crazy, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. Even graves are so packed—you stretch out your leg and you’re already in soone else’s place..."
"There haven’t been spirits living here for a long ti. It’s just a place for the living to mourn," Wen Yan shook his head. Everyone’s cremated these days; there aren’t so many zombies or ghosts and all that anymore.
"Good point. If all of them were still living here, neighbor disputes would be off the charts."
Old Zhao kept sighing while calculating the location with his fingers. He followed the little path up, walked over to a spot halfway up near the edge, circled the area a few tis, then pointed at a tombstone.
"This is it. I brought you here. This is definitely the person you’re looking for—no doubt about it."
Wen Yan looked at the tombstone—a photo was pasted on it, a woman with a bright, radiant smile, couldn’t be more than thirty.
"Feng Yao."
Wen Yan called out, but Feng Yao ignored him. He’d already sat down cross-legged, popped open his laptop, and started tapping away at the keyboard.
Information started pouring out rapidly on his laptop. Feng Yao snorted.
"Na’s fake, address is fake too, but since we’ve gotten this far, if I still can’t find her, I might as well bash my head in right here."
His hands flew over the keys, and in less than two minutes, every kind of info—handlers, which offices, all the docunts—had been pulled up.
"Got it."
Wen Yan looked at the information on the screen.
This woman’s real na was Liu Xinyu—she died three years ago.
The records showed her life was rough. She was abducted as a child, ran away in her teens, found a kind stranger who took her in, but less than a year later, that kind person died in an accident. After that, she worked odd jobs, then got duped into working overseas.
Not much is known about her life out there. All they know is, three years ago, she ca back with cancer, but didn’t get any treatnt.
The file even had her visiting the maternity departnt—seems she was already pregnant.
Looks like she wanted to give birth before she died, but the baby was way too premature and couldn’t make it. She passed away after that.
The people who handled her funeral were all staff workers.
No parents, no kids, no relatives—her first record using her real na and ID was already when she was in her teens.
Wen Yan sighed. With such a person, even if Feng Yao works himself to death, there’s no way to find her just using a few basic search terms.
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