Chapter Four: Patrol

"Hey, hey, hey! Why is it you again?" Chen Jin blocked the unexpected visitor with a sour expression, his face stern, trying to look authoritative.

Sheng Yao grinned sheepishly. "Master, you're on duty here again today?"

"Don't play dumb with me. I told you yesterday and the day before: this is a private cemetery, you can't just wander in. If you want to leave the grounds, head for the north gate." Chen Jin stood directly in front of Sheng Yao, refusing to budge.

"But isn't this all part of Longevity Garden? There's no one guarding the other side, and there isn't even a gate between these two cemeteries," Sheng Yao argued, though his gaze kept flickering past Chen Jin, glancing behind him. "Why can't I walk this way?"

"You know this is a different section of the cemetery. Why are you wandering around here? Stop gawking—there's nothing worth seeing." Chen Jin changed tactics. "You need to show respect for the departed, be considerate of their families, and not disturb anyone else."

Sheng Yao didn't get frustrated or pick a fight. He agreed obediently, making himself look like a model student.

But Chen Jin wasn't so easily fooled. "Come on, I'll walk you back."

"Is that really necessary?" Sheng Yao sounded surprised.

"I'm worried you'll get lost. The paths here aren't straight, there are no signs, unlike the other cemetery." Without waiting for a response, Chen Jin gently pushed Sheng Yao toward the traditional cemetery.

Sheng Yao didn’t resist, following obediently as Chen Jin led him through quiet, tree-shaded stone paths, back to the traditional section.

Chen Jin stood at the entrance of the small pathway, like a guardian deity.

He remained there until Sheng Yao’s figure melted into the crowd of mourners, vanishing from sight, then finally relaxed. His middle-aged beer belly popped out beneath his uniform, and his stern face slipped into its usual lazy expression.

But Chen Jin wasn’t truly at ease. He kept the matter in mind, and that evening, while eating in the staff canteen, he brought it up to a few colleagues. He wanted to warn them, but as soon as he started describing Sheng Yao’s appearance, he was interrupted.

"I’ve seen that young man!" Xiao Jin, the gatekeeper, mumbled through his food. "Every day, first thing in the morning, right when we open, he shows up. It’s been days now… started during Tomb Sweeping Festival. That day I really noticed him—among all the elderly, he was the only young one. When he came through the gate, it looked like he didn’t know where to go. I thought he’d ask for directions, but he just drifted along with the crowd."

Chen Jin tapped his bowl with his chopsticks. "See? There’s something off about him! Who comes to sweep graves every single day?"

Tomb Sweeping Festival is just one day, the holiday only lasts three days, and the peak is usually those three or four days, but the whole festival period stretches over two weeks. Retired folks with time on their hands trickle in throughout March and April. Office workers and families come in crowds during the holidays.

Sheng Yao was young—either a student or a working professional. No matter which, he shouldn’t be showing up at the cemetery on weekdays. Not even the retired elders come every day.

Old Xu, who helped in the parking lot, slowly picked up a bite of food and said, "Let’s pull up the surveillance footage, get everyone to memorize his face. Tomorrow, keep an eye out."

With that, the security staff hurried to finish their meals.

Only Xiao Wu kept his head down, picking at his rice absentmindedly. When everyone finished and glanced his way, he still hadn’t noticed.

Xiao Jin slapped Xiao Wu’s shoulder, startling him so much his hand shook and his bowl nearly flew out of his grasp.

Luckily, the canteen’s rice was always mushy and sticky, so the bowl didn’t spill most of its contents.

"What’s wrong with you?" Xiao Jin was startled by Xiao Wu’s reaction.

Xiao Wu looked bewildered, his face showing two clear, dark circles under his eyes.

He was the security department’s newest recruit since the New Year, still in his probationary period, not yet familiar with the others. The past few days he’d been exhausted, trying to keep up with his first Tomb Sweeping Festival shift. He rarely spoke, and seemed withered, like ash at the bottom of the park’s iron barrel, almost burnt out.

Old Xu said, "Xiao Wu, you’ve worked hard these days. Tomorrow, don’t push yourself so much. If you really can’t manage, go rest in the security room."

The two colleagues who patrolled the traditional cemetery with Xiao Wu immediately chimed in, looking after him.

Xiao Wu managed a weak smile, thanked everyone, and left the half-bowl of rice untouched, helping to clear the dishes.

"Just hold on for two more days, and this Tomb Sweeping Festival will be over. Things will get easier afterward," Chen Jin hooked an arm around Xiao Wu’s shoulder. "Tomorrow, patrol Longevity Garden with me. It’s quieter there. Too many people in the traditional cemetery—smoky and chaotic. You might not be used to it your first year. Have you seen the crowds burning paper? We’re the only ones who still allow it. I hear next year, even we’ll ban it."

Xiao Wu thanked him gratefully.

Chen Jin added, "But with this incident this year, things might not be peaceful. When you’re in Longevity Garden, stay alert—we have to watch out for that guy committing crimes or vandalism."

Longevity Garden had never seen a serious incident, but their peers elsewhere had been unlucky—gravestones vandalized, urns stolen, families extorted…

In today’s surveillance-heavy society, petty thieves are quickly caught, but for cemetery management, catching the culprit isn’t the end—the angry relatives and aftermath are enough to give them headaches.

Longevity Garden originally only had Old Xu as a gatekeeper. When the garden expanded, adding the Longevity section, a west gate, and a new parking lot, they hired Chen Jin. The two of them used to only guard the north and west gates; anything inside the cemetery was managed by cleaning staff, with little need for patrols.

Six years ago, the Security Department was officially established. They hired new staff every year, expanding faster and with more turnover than any other department. Even so, during peak times like Tomb Sweeping or the Winter Solstice, they still needed volunteers from other departments to help manage the crowds. Within the security department, the surveillance system was the largest expense. If anything went wrong, the director would make sure they paid for it.

The security staff moved en masse to the surveillance room.

The surveillance room was very close to the staff canteen; above it were employee dorms, whose windows overlooked the small surveillance room. Next door was the security room, which doubled as the department’s office and break room, and was sometimes borrowed by other departments as a storage area.

Xiao Jin was in charge of surveillance. He skillfully pulled up footage from the north gate, adjusted the time, and showed everyone Sheng Yao arriving at the cemetery early in the morning.

"Ah! That’s him!" The first to speak wasn’t Chen Jin or Xiao Jin, but the always absent-minded Xiao Wu.

It was the first time Xiao Wu showed any excitement in front of his colleagues—his voice even cracked.

"You’ve seen him?" Chen Jin asked. "He wandered around the traditional cemetery?"

Xiao Wu shook his head, excitement fading into fear.

"He… this person… he…" Xiao Wu stammered, unable to complete a sentence.

Xiao Jin grew impatient. "What about him?"

Xiao Wu blurted out, "He talks to the gravestone!"

Everyone exchanged glances.

Xiao Jin laughed. "So? Haven’t you seen people talking to gravestones? Everyone sweeps graves and talks to them."

"They’re talking to their departed family," Old Xu corrected Xiao Jin, then looked at Xiao Wu. "You’ll get used to it. People come to sweep graves, talk about how the family’s been over the past year, tell their loved ones not to worry, ask how things are in the afterlife… It’s a way to comfort themselves. Talking like that helps them feel better."

Xiao Wu shook his head repeatedly. "No, it’s not that! He’s having a conversation with the gravestone!" He emphasized the word "conversation." "Back and forth, laughing and chatting… He sits there every day… Eleventh row, or maybe the thirteenth."

Xiao Wu hadn’t paid attention to the exact number of that row. He couldn’t bring himself to look closely at Sheng Yao.

"On the first day—Tomb Sweeping Festival—he startled a lot of people," Xiao Wu added. "He stood there, muttering intermittently, his expression constantly changing, like someone was right beside him…" Xiao Wu shivered.

That bizarre scene naturally drew people’s attention. Some were curious, some sympathetic, and some pulled Xiao Wu over to deal with it.

Xiao Wu glanced from afar, saw Sheng Yao performing among the gravestones like a professional monologist, one hand raised as if holding someone invisible. Terrified, he froze, his mind filled with news stories about mentally ill killers.

Fortunately, a helpful aunt in the crowd approached and pulled Sheng Yao away. The crowd dispersed.

Xiao Wu overheard their discussions. They all suspected the well-dressed young man was mentally unstable.

That’s what Xiao Wu thought, too, at first.

But after that…

"The next day, he was there again, talking… tilting his head, looking beside him, as if someone was there, listening, listening to her talk…" Xiao Wu shivered.

"Isn’t that just mental illness?" Xiao Jin scoffed.

Chen Jin recalled his interactions with Sheng Yao over the past two days, feeling hesitant.

Sweat started to bead on Xiao Wu’s forehead, his wide eyes bloodshot. "I… I…" He repeated himself, unable to continue, his body trembling more.

"What’s there to be afraid of?" Xiao Jin eyed Xiao Wu in surprise, then pointed at the surveillance screen.

On screen, Sheng Yao, holding flowers and greeting Xiao Jin, looked perfectly normal.

Xiao Jin said, "See? When he’s not having an episode, he’s fine. He’s just talking to himself. You haven’t seen real lunatics or martial arts nuts—that’s scary."

"You’ll get used to it," Old Xu repeated. "People like that show up all the time. When the rapeseed flowers bloom, they relapse. The ones who come here are pitiful."

Old Xu added, "When you see someone like that, give us a heads-up, and tell the cleaning staff too."

Chen Jin followed Old Xu’s lead. "If he’s just mentally ill, we’ll keep an eye on him so he doesn’t vandalize anything. What worries me is if he’s actually sane. These days he keeps trying to get into Longevity Garden—could he be up to something? All that talking to himself… is it just an act?"

"It’s not impossible. Criminals nowadays are clever, always using mental illness certificates to dodge charges," Old Xu said gravely.

Everyone agreed.

Only Xiao Wu lowered his head, embarrassed by his earlier timidity.

Old Xu and Chen Jin decided to ramp up patrols. That night, during closing hours, they would inspect the cemetery’s gravestones and perimeter fences.

"Check all the cameras, too—make sure nothing’s blocked, especially in Longevity Garden. There are sycamores, apricot trees, peach trees… all sorts of plants, haven’t been trimmed in a year, might block the cameras. And the storage…" Chen Jin asked Xiao Jin, "Is there enough memory? Don’t let anything get recorded and then lost."

"I’ll check everything now."

Chen Jin said, "While you’re at it, see what he does when he comes here every day. He must eat and use the restroom, even if he’s acting in the traditional cemetery. We’ll spot something."

Xiao Jin acknowledged him with a nod, already busy at the console.

With Xiao Jin’s brisk efficiency, the others followed suit, fired up by his example—even Xiao Wu joined Chen Jin to check the fences.

The first to lose steam was Xiao Jin. Though he managed the surveillance system, he only knew how to operate the switches and call for repairs. He'd never received professional training, nor did he practice reviewing footage.

Sheng Yao entered the thirteenth row of the traditional cemetery. Because of the camera’s angle, once he went in, Xiao Jin couldn’t see what he was doing.

Xiao Jin tried adjusting the camera direction, so next time Sheng Yao showed up, he’d be able to see what was happening. He felt quite clever.

Then he was overwhelmed by the surge of mourners on-screen, losing track of Sheng Yao entirely. The endless stream of people in the footage made him drowsy; he forced himself to stay alert, but found nothing.

…

The image on the cathode screen zoomed in, as if the lens was drawing closer, picking Sheng Yao out from among the crowd and gravestones.

Despite the low resolution, one could see the smile on Sheng Yao’s face. Beside him was Bai Xiao, in a black jacket. The two sat shoulder to shoulder on the ground, leaning on the gravestone, facing it, conversing in a way that was both uncanny and joyful.

Off-screen, voices could be heard:

"You used to play on the school soccer team?"

"Yes. Our best achievement was second place in the junior high city tournament. That was a league organized by the sports bureau and the education bureau, just like the pros, except we didn’t need to attend the draw—they randomized it by computer and sent the schedule to the schools. The awards ceremony was funny—they had us go on stage at the cultural palace, didn’t rank champions, just gave out first, second, and third prizes."

"Did you go up?"

"No. Our captain went—skipped the Chinese test that afternoon."

"Pfft… You must have been jealous?"

"Of course, super jealous. But the captain said it was boring, just sitting and listening to the officials talk…"

Before Sheng Yao finished, a hand pressed the row of controls in front of him.

On the nails of that hand were painted exaggerated faces, each with wide eyes, as if their heads were fixed but still straining to see the screen.

With a few twists of the fingers, the footage warped as if film was forcibly dragged, distorting rapidly. When the hand released, the image stabilized, showing Sheng Yao and Bai Xiao under a darkening sky.

Now Bai Xiao spoke:

"…That’s it. The calluses are thick—feel rough to the touch."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore. When I first practiced piano, it hurt so much I cried. My mom used loads of lotion, but nothing helped. I slacked off during senior year, and now practicing again, it hurts all over."

Zzzzz—

The crackle of electricity drowned out Bai Xiao’s voice.

The screen warped again.

This time, the hand didn’t operate the machine, but tapped lightly on the console. The keys moved on their own, as if many invisible hands were manipulating them.

A soft humming replaced the electrical noise—a cheerful, lyricless tune, echoing through the dark room.

The footage shifted again and again; suddenly, the hand danced rapidly across the console, so fast it was dizzying. Strange laughter and sobs accompanied the movement, weaving with the humming, like a grand choral performance.

Soon, the operations ceased. The screen returned to the image of Sheng Yao and Bai Xiao sitting side by side.

They seemed plucked from the space, placed on their own timeline. Clouds rolled overhead, people passed by, incense smoke coiled and dispersed. Their voices were muted, lips moving soundlessly, eyes widening and narrowing, sometimes smiling gently, sometimes frowning.

Music played, the same humming as before. The tune blended perfectly with the scene.

The doctor leaned back in his chair, blue eyes half-closed, content as he watched the young man and woman on-screen.

The image finally froze on their tranquil, blissful faces gazing at one another. After a few seconds, the camera panned over to Bai Xiao’s gravestone. In the black-and-white portrait, she frowned slightly. At the base of the gravestone lay a bouquet of beautifully wrapped poppies, with a few pink peach blossoms scattered nearby.

The doctor seemed quite pleased with his newly completed work, eyes narrowed in satisfaction.