Chapter Six: The Restless Morgue

"Second, between three and four in the morning, you must remain inside the gatehouse. No matter what you see or hear, you are not to wander outside."

Why?

Though curiosity stirred within Fu Yang, he nodded in agreement without protest on the surface.

"Third, should any accident occur during your shift, you alone will bear full responsibility."

At this, Fu Yang’s heart skipped a beat, an inexplicable unease creeping in. Wasn’t this just a night shift at the university hospital? Why did it feel as though he were being dispatched to the front lines? Was there really any danger to speak of?

But, thinking it over, he reassured himself—it couldn’t possibly be dangerous. Gritting his teeth, he agreed to everything.

Once the contract was signed and stamped, his six-month part-time job was officially secured.

Clutching the contract as he left the hospital, Fu Yang was on the verge of tears. “Raising a ghost girl is just like having a wife—she can really burn through money!”

Without delay, he took the bus to the city’s funeral supplies street, bought a memorial tablet, inscribed the name, and purchased a large bundle of incense and joss paper before returning to his rental room.

After an hour of preparation, he finally finished setting up the offerings for the ghostly girl. Doing his best to appear respectful, he bowed to the tablet. “My queen, your offerings are ready. Starting from the first of next month, I’ll provide pork, lamb, and chicken for you. Please, have mercy and stop scaring me…”

A wisp of blue smoke suddenly rose from the tablet, and a haughty scoff echoed faintly through the room, nearly frightening Fu Yang into begging for forgiveness again.

At nine thirty that night, Fu Yang arrived punctually at the hospital gatehouse to begin his shift.

The elderly daytime guard was over sixty, with snow-white hair and a slight stoop. His eyes were somewhat askew, lending him an eerie aura. Everyone called him Old Bai.

“You’re here, young man,” Old Bai rasped, his voice unsettling as he rattled off a large ring of keys and handed them to Fu Yang.

“Uncle Bai, I’m just here for a night shift—why so many keys?”

“Cut the nonsense! Didn’t Director Zhang say you’re not just the night guard, but also responsible for patrols and other duties? Take them!” Old Bai’s temper was unpredictable, and his slanted gaze could unnerve anyone.

Resigned, Fu Yang took the enormous ring of keys, muttering to himself, “If you weren’t so old, I’d put you in your place for being so rude.”

Before leaving, Old Bai looked at him meaningfully and said, “Young man, your fate is strong.” Then, hands clasped behind his back, he sauntered off, his shadow stretched beneath the streetlight into something almost monstrous.

A strong fate? What’s that supposed to mean?

Baffled, Fu Yang entered the guardroom at the hospital entrance and began his first shift. With finals approaching and few classes left, he mainly needed to prepare for exams—university tests, as everyone knows…

He’d prepared thoroughly, downloading enough movies and novels to last him all night.

The guardroom was about fifteen square meters, facing the hospital’s main entrance through a large pane of glass. With one glance, he could see the entire entryway, just as anyone entering could see directly into the guardroom.

In the northeast corner stood a single bed for short naps after patrols. Beside it was a water dispenser. There was also a television, though it looked ancient, probably from the nineties, and hardly worth turning on.

Time passed quickly; after a movie, it was already midnight.

“All right, time for a patrol.”

He grabbed his flashlight, slipped his phone into his pocket, and clipped the keys to his belt. Like a Red Army soldier embarking on the Long March, he stepped outside, feeling a surge of heroism.

The air was cool, and the night breeze made him shiver. He hugged his arms close to his chest.

Hospitals are mysterious places.

People are born there, and they die there. It’s both the starting point and the end of life—a threshold between worlds.

Most people harbor an inexplicable fear of hospitals.

Fu Yang had always been bold—he’d braved the cemetery for the sake of his goddess, Qin Mei, so the hospital itself was nothing to him. Yet, after actually encountering a ghost in a tomb and suffering for it, he had developed a new respect for the supernatural, and his courage had waned. Alone in the hospital at night, his nerves were on edge.

The two newly built inpatient wings were all right. Walking their brightly lit corridors late at night, though silent and deserted, was unnerving but manageable.

The old building, however, was another matter.

It had stood since before the revolution—so the story went—and had undergone several renovations after the founding of the new government. Yet the layout and wiring remained outdated, and most of its rooms, relegated to unimportant departments, had become storage or stood unused.

After patrolling the two new wings, Fu Yang inevitably had to make a round of the old building.

The two new buildings and the old one formed a shape like the character for “product,” with a large lawn and garden in the center. On the east side of the lawn was a small artificial pond, originally intended as a water feature, now abandoned and filled with dark, stagnant water.

Despite the gardeners’ efforts, the area retained a wild, overgrown feel. At night, with incomplete wiring in the public areas and few streetlights, half the grounds were shrouded in darkness. The trees rustled eerily in the wind, their sound sending chills down the spine in the dead of night. No one dared approach the abandoned pond.

Worse still, the hospital morgue was tucked into a secluded corner of the broad lawn near the old building!

It was a single-story horizontal structure, small, half-hidden among dense trees. And, as luck would have it, a few streetlights illuminated the area. So, as Fu Yang walked from the new wings to the old building, he could glimpse the morgue from almost every angle.

Muttering curses as he walked, he grumbled, “Which idiot designed this place? You can see the morgue from every direction—what kind of sick mind thought that was a good idea?”

Suddenly, the grass ahead rustled. Something seemed to be moving within. The next moment, a black, human-shaped shadow darted from the low grass, dashed beneath the dim light by the morgue’s side door, burst through the doors, and disappeared inside!

Fu Yang’s heart lurched violently.

Who would go into the morgue at this hour? His nerves prickled with fear.

Could it be… a ghost?

He shook his head vigorously, trying to banish the thought. He was no magnet for spirits—he’d only just brought home a fierce female ghost from the cemetery. What were the odds of running into another so soon? And if it wasn’t a ghost, but a person, then he’d be neglecting his duties. Not only would he lose his pay, he might even be held responsible.

Steeling himself, even as fear gnawed at him, Fu Yang forced himself toward the morgue to check things out.