Chapter Thirty-Eight

At Monday's work meeting, Peng Kun announced the company's strategic transformation decision. Most people had no objections, but Dong Jue seemed unable to accept it: "President Peng, there is no market demand for hydrogen fuel cell passenger vehicles, let alone profitability. Isn't this too risky?"

Peng Kun could understand his concerns. The market prospects for hydrogen fuel cell passenger vehicles are indeed uncertain. Moreover, they have already invested so much effort in the lithium battery project. If they give up now, all their previous efforts will be wasted.

Sure enough, after Dong Jue finished speaking, many people showed uneasy expressions. In order to give the team some confidence, Peng Kun responded decisively: "Don't worry, although the growth space of the passenger car market is limited, in the commercial vehicle field, especially in long-distance heavy-duty hydrogen fuel cell trucks, hydrogen fuel cell vehicles have obvious advantages, and the potential of this market is huge."

Dong Jue didn't argue anymore and silently obeyed the decision. He understood that he was just an ordinary employee and couldn't control the boss's thoughts, so he could only silently digest his dissatisfaction.

Of the seven members of the team, only Zuo Xutong had both lithium battery R&D experience and familiarity with hydrogen fuel cells. The other six had no experience with hydrogen fuel cells, so Zuo Xutong naturally became the leader of this small team. Everyone thought she was likely to become the company's future R&D director. Just a year ago, she was a probationary employee at Polar Blue Sky. This unexpected title fell into her lap. However, she only cared about whether the company would give her a raise, but she didn't really want one. She feared that if she got a raise, she wouldn't want to switch jobs.

Adjusting the R&D roadmap at this time means they will miss this year's new energy exhibition and will no longer need to work hard to produce samples, but it gives the team some breathing room.

However, Peng Kun still had many things to do: inspecting factory buildings, replacing equipment, and recruiting R&D personnel with relevant experience. Fang Zeduan posted the job information and helped screen resumes. Since Peng Kun didn't have a secretary, he volunteered to do some miscellaneous tasks.

Around 9 PM, Zuo Xutong was writing a feasibility report for a hydrogen fuel cell stack in her office when she suddenly heard a commotion in the corridor. Going out to investigate, she saw a large crowd gathered on the south side of the third floor, with medical staff frequently going in and out of a room, and elderly people huddled together discussing the situation. Unable to contain her curiosity, she went over and grabbed a caregiver, asking, "What's going on?"

"Grandpa Liu... is gone," the caregiver said.

"What do you mean?" Zuo Xutong wondered if he had misheard; he had been perfectly fine just a few days ago.

"He passed away. The doctor said it was an acute myocardial infarction," the caregiver said hurriedly, then turned and went downstairs. Zuo Xutong walked to the door of room 316 and saw Peng Kun inside. After a while, the caregiver returned, carrying a set of white funeral clothes.

The room was in chaos. Half an hour later, the funeral home staff arrived and carried Mr. Liu away on a stretcher. People gradually dispersed from the corridor, and room 316 became empty. Peng Kun was the last to come out of the room. Only then did he notice Zuo Xutong at the door. He turned off the light and came out, looking exhausted, and said to her, "It's alright, you can go back now."

Seeing the car keys in his hand, she couldn't help but ask, "Where are you going?"

"funeral parlor."

In the dead of night, he was going to the funeral home alone? On a whim, Zuo Xutong blurted out, "I'll go with you."

“Okay.” Peng Kun didn’t hesitate at all, as if he couldn’t wait for her to say those words.

The funeral home is far from the main city, in the suburbs, even further than the nursing home. It takes about an hour to drive there. After leaving the city, there is a stretch of road without streetlights, and the car headlights cut through the darkness with a blurry beam of light.

Looking out at the deep night, Zuo Xutong recalled her first visit to a funeral home. It was the year her maternal grandmother passed away; she was only six years old and had no idea what death meant. Back then, the road wasn't paved yet; it was a rough, uneven dirt road, full of potholes. She sat in the small van her family rented, bouncing along like a spring-loaded horse at an amusement park. The adults were all crying, but she was laughing.

Halfway through the drive, she snapped out of her reverie, glanced at the person beside her, and asked softly, "Have you notified his family?"

He has no family.

Zuo Xutong felt a pang of sadness upon hearing this, sighed silently, and changed the subject, saying, "This road is so dark, you must be scared to walk alone, right?"

"I'm not afraid."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, I was all alone on New Year's Eve. I walked seven kilometers from the nursing home to Nanshan Manor, and there wasn't a single pedestrian on the way." Peng Kun's voice betrayed his guilt.

"So you were at the nursing home that day!" Zuo Xutong finally understood why he had said "there were too many people" back then.

“Well, my old lady loves excitement and doesn’t want to spend the holiday alone with me. She insists on going to the nursing home to join in the fun. Changchun Nursing Home has been built for three years, and she spends the Spring Festival there every year.” After he finished speaking, seeing Zuo Xutong’s confused look, he added, “My father passed away five years ago. My family is not from here, and we have no relatives here.”

Around midnight, the car slowly drove into the funeral home. The parking lot, located behind a two-story building, was deserted except for a few white hearses and two or three private cars, presumably belonging to staff. Peng Kun parked the car and, together with Zuo Xutong, found the duty room.

The man on duty looked up from his desk, his eyes still sleepy, and asked, "Are you family members?"

“No, we are from a nursing home,” Peng Kun replied.

The man yawned and continued, "When will the family arrive?"

He has no family.

“Oh,” the man nodded, seemingly used to it, and said listlessly, “Let’s put the body in the morgue first; the cremation procedures can be completed tomorrow.”

"Aren't you going to set up a mourning hall?"

"Should we hold a farewell ceremony for the deceased?"

Peng Kun was stunned by the question. He hesitated for a long time before finally shaking his head helplessly. Yes, there was no need to put it in the mourning hall because no one would come to pay their respects.

After completing the acceptance procedures, Dean Feng would come to handle the rest tomorrow. Just as they were about to leave, Peng Kun casually touched his pocket, suddenly stopped, turned around, and asked, "Where's the morgue?"

"The building behind the parking lot," the man said, then slumped back onto the table.

The two walked out of the duty room. Peng Kun took out a digital watch and said sadly, "This was Grandpa Liu's favorite thing. Last year, the nursing home held a checkers competition, and he won second place..."

Before he could finish speaking, Zuo Xutong immediately understood: "The prize for the competition?"

“Well, Grandpa Liu said this is the first prize he’s ever won in his life, and he’s been looking forward to this year’s checkers competition…” Peng Kun didn’t continue.

Zuo Xutong looked down at the watch, which showed: 1:07.

“Let’s put it on him,” she said.

Peng Kun gazed at the abyss-like darkness in the distance, hesitated for a moment, and finally nodded.

The funeral home was surrounded by wasteland and farmland, with almost no light source. The night was thick and dark, as if swallowing all sound. The silence was suffocating; not even the chirping of crickets could be heard. Only the funeral hall on the first floor was still lit. Through the open glass door, they could see a coffin in the center of the hall, and a man with a black armband sitting on a chair next to it, staring blankly at the ground, lost in thought.

The two walked through the parking lot to a dark building. This four-story building was the tallest building in the funeral home, but not a single room was lit.

They pushed open the door and carefully walked in. The motion-sensor lights in the corridor came on, and a white sign on the wall read "Morgue," with an arrow pointing to the right next to it.

Zuo Xutong lifted her foot and walked to the right side of the first floor, only to find Peng Kun following her closely. His tall figure gave her an invisible sense of pressure.

She turned around and almost bumped into his chin. In an instant, it dawned on her: "You're afraid of ghosts?"

“I…I’m not afraid of ghosts,” Peng Kun stammered, still stubbornly insisting, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

“Being afraid of ghosts is better than being afraid of the dark,” Zuo Xutong laughed. “Besides, with such a big lump of you hiding behind me, I can’t really block you out!”

"Who told you to block me? I..." Peng Kun tried to argue, but before he could finish speaking, someone patted him on the shoulder from behind. He was stunned and stood there dumbfounded.

At this moment, Zuo Xutong noticed that a gaunt old man had suddenly appeared behind Peng Kun, staring intently at them, which startled her.

"What are you two doing here so suspiciously?" the old man asked with a stern face.

What else could he be doing here? Stealing corpses, perhaps? Zuo Xutong wondered, but then she saw Peng Kun's face turn deathly pale, staring at the old man in horror, unable to utter a word.

Left with no other option, Zuo Xutong asked on his behalf, "Sir, where is the person who was just brought from the nursing home?"

"Who are you to him?"

“We are his…caregivers, and we want to see him one more time.” Zuo Xutong wasn’t lying on purpose; she just couldn’t think of a more suitable identity.

"Is the caregiver and employer really that close?" The old man looked at them suspiciously, but his attitude softened noticeably: "Come with me."

The two followed the old man to the morgue, which was also a cold storage room. The temperature was very low, and there were about five or six corpses on it. The overhead lights were a cold white, making the place even more eerie and terrifying. Even Zuo Xutong, who was usually very brave, felt a chill run down her spine.

The old man lifted a white sheet from the bed and asked impatiently, "This one?"

Zuo Xutong looked at the corpse on the bed. It was Grandpa Liu. His eyes were closed, as if he had fallen asleep.

Peng Kun's hand trembled slightly as he held the watch, whether from the cold or from fear, it was hard to tell. Seeing this, Zuo Xutong snatched the watch from his hand, then lifted Grandpa Liu's cold, stiff arm and put the watch on his wrist, muttering, "Grandpa Liu, this is your favorite thing, we brought it to you..."

Even after getting into the car, Peng Kun's hands were still shaking. He tried for a long time but couldn't get the car key into the lock.

"How about I drive? If you drive like this, I'm afraid neither of us will see the sun rise tomorrow," Zuo Xutong said bluntly.

Peng Kun clenched his fists awkwardly. He wanted to control his body, but it just wouldn't cooperate. Seeing the other person's helpless expression, he finally couldn't help but ask in a dry voice, "Can you let me explain?"

"Okay." Zuo Xutong chuckled inwardly, "Do you have Parkinson's disease?"

Peng Kun took a deep breath and slowly revealed the truth: "The night before last, just before dawn, I had a dream. In the dream, Grandpa Liu came to me and said that Grandma Zou, who lived next door, had borrowed his digital watch and asked me to help him get it back."

As the caregiver and I were dressing him in his burial clothes, I suddenly remembered this dream and casually asked, "Where's Grandpa Liu's watch? I always see him wearing it." There were many people standing at the door, and Grandma Zou was also squeezed into the crowd. As soon as I finished speaking, she came over and said, quite embarrassed, that she had borrowed the watch and it was still in her room.

After hearing Peng Kun's words, Zuo Xutong felt a chill run down her spine. After a long pause, she said in a trembling voice, "Indeed...it's terrifying! How could such a coincidence happen in this world?"

“That depends on whether it’s a coincidence or not.” Peng Kun said something even more chilling, and as soon as he finished speaking, Zuo Xutong also had a Parkinson’s attack.