Chapter 88 Is this corpse coming back to life because it's so tempted by the boxed lunch?
As the air conditioning from the funeral home, carrying the scent of sandalwood, wafted over, Su Yingxue had just held the insulated food container in her arms. The container was still warm, and even through the cloth cover, she could smell the faint aroma—it was the yam and chicken soup that had been simmering for a while, now quietly warming itself inside.
She was originally entrusted by the funeral home to deliver hot food, but she did not expect the atmosphere in the mourning hall to be so solemn today: black silk elegiac couplets hung to the ground, people in white stood with their heads bowed, the crystal coffin lid in the center was half-open, and Zhang Yizhou, the head of the Zhang family, lay inside with his face as pale as paper, his eyes closed, and even the rise and fall of his chest could not be seen.
"Let me see my grandfather!"
A sobbing cry suddenly broke the silence. Su Yingxue looked in the direction of the sound and saw a teenager being dragged away by two men in suits. He was wearing an ill-fitting black coat with a wrinkled collar, but it couldn't hide his handsome face—high cheekbones and slightly upturned eyes, which were now flushed red, and tears were falling onto the cement ground, leaving a small wet patch.
That was Zhang Yuechao, the only younger member of the Zhang family that He Rongrong had mentioned. He was still in junior high school.
"Young Master, please don't go over there," one of the men whispered, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.
"Grandpa's gone, and you're still stopping me!" Zhang Yuechao struggled, his voice full of grievance and anger. "Bullshit! Grandpa was only in bed for three days, and you're already stuffing him into a coffin? You're the ones who're crazy!"
"Zhang Yuechao, I've already told you Grandpa is gone, why won't you believe me?" A woman in a white dress walked gracefully over, her skirt sweeping the ground without a single wrinkle, her makeup impeccable, but her tone revealed impatience.
"You should go back to school and take care of things at home. Don't cause any more trouble."
Su Yingxue hugged the thermos and retreated to the corner. Her gaze fell on the white cloth that read "Family members keep out," and she simply sat down on the steps outside the curtain.
She unfastened the latch on the thermos, and as soon as the first lid was lifted, a rich and fresh aroma wafted out—it was yam and chicken soup that had been simmering for four hours. The golden broth was so clear that you could see the goji berries at the bottom of the bowl. The large pieces of free-range chicken were stewed until tender, and the meat could be easily torn off with a gentle poke. The pinkish-white yams were soaked in the soup, their edges already saturated with the broth, gleaming with a warm sheen.
She scooped up a spoonful of the soup, a thin layer of chicken oil floating on the surface. The first taste was fresh, followed by the sweet and mellow flavor of the yam, and finally the slight sourness of the goji berries, so warm that her throat trembled.
The second layer is "ants climbing a tree" (a dish of minced pork and vermicelli). The glass noodles are soaked until soft but not mushy, coated in a thick sauce, so shiny they reflect light. The minced meat is stir-fried until fragrant, with distinct grains clinging to the noodles. With each bite, the noodles absorb the aroma of the meat and sauce, offering a slightly chewy texture. The spiciness of the minced ginger and garlic perfectly balances the greasiness, and the final sprinkle of bright green scallions not only looks appealing but also adds a touch of freshness.
Su Yingxue picked up a piece with her chopsticks, and the vermicelli pulled out a thin layer of sauce, its taste full of the familiar flavors of home cooking.
The bottom layer is stir-fried Chinese cabbage. She specifically chose cabbage with a crisp core, tore it into large pieces, stir-fried the stalks until tender, while the leaves still retained their crispness.
Seasoned only with salt and a little soy sauce, the cabbage retains its natural sweetness to the greatest extent. When you bite into it, there's a "crunch" sound, and the juice bursts in your mouth, refreshing and not greasy, perfectly balancing the richness of the chicken soup and the "ants climbing a tree" (a Sichuan dish).
She was enjoying her meal when she caught a glimpse of He Rongrong not far away, who was holding a small notebook and muttering to herself. The white etiquette instructor's uniform had a small white flower pinned to the collar, making her look rather serious.
Su Yingxue couldn't help but smile. This scene was like a "super-large-scale TV series," much more exciting than the story in front of her stall.
Before she could take another sip of soup, a shrill scream suddenly erupted in the mourning hall: "Old Zhang! He moved! His hand moved!"
"It moved? It came back to life?" Su Yingxue's soup spoon clattered into the bowl, splashing a few drops of soup.
She had learned from the elders in her family that muscles would slightly contract after death, which was not strange. However, the people around her had obviously never heard of this saying before. The two men who had blocked Zhang Yuechao ran away as soon as they did, their leather shoes making a hurried sound on the ground. Even the woman in the white dress shrank back, her face as white as paper, and her handkerchief was crumpled in her hand.
Zhang Yuechao acted as if he hadn't heard the words "resurrected corpse," suddenly breaking free from the people around him and rushing towards the crystal coffin like a madman: "I told you Grandpa wasn't dead! Grandpa wasn't dead!"
The crowd gasped in fright. Several of the bolder ones tried to stop him, but Zhang Yuechao had already rushed to the edge of the coffin, gripping the edge tightly with both hands. With all his might, he pushed open the heavy crystal coffin lid with a creaking sound, revealing a wrinkled face inside.
"It really moved! It really moved!" Another scream erupted from the crowd, and some people started running towards the door. "It's come back to life! Run!"
Su Yingxue also took the chicken soup and went over to take a look. She saw Zhang Yizuo's fingers curl slightly inside the coffin, then his eyelids trembled, and he slowly opened his eyes!
Those cloudy eyes first scanned the panicked crowd with a dazed look, then suddenly froze. He sniffed hard, as if drawn by something, his gaze piercing through the crowd to land on the thermos in Su Yingxue's hand. A dry sound escaped his throat, like sandpaper rubbing against wood: "What...what's that smell? It smells so good..."
Su Yingxue was stunned for a moment, then subconsciously handed over the thermos.
Zhang Yizhou didn't stand on ceremony. He struggled to sit up, supporting himself on the edge of the coffin. His burial clothes were wrinkled, but it didn't affect his movements at all. He reached out and took the large bowl of chicken soup. Ignoring the heat, he tilted his head back and drank it. The golden soup flowed down his lips and soaked the collar of his burial clothes.
He didn't care at all, and all he could hear was the sound of him swallowing. The bowl of soup was quickly emptied, and he even picked out the yam from the bottom of the bowl with his fingers and chewed it with relish.
The people around were stunned. The person who had just shouted "zombie" stood frozen in place, his legs trembling.
The woman in the white dress looked even worse; her lips trembled, and her hand unconsciously reached for her phone in her pocket, as if she wanted to ask for help, but Zhang Yizhou caught her in the act.
"Why are you crying?" Zhang Yi wiped his mouth, handed the empty bowl back to Su Yingxue, his eyes no longer showing the confusion he had when he first woke up, but full of shrewd sharpness. "I'm not dead yet, are you all hoping I'll die soon?"
“Old Zhang…you, what’s wrong…” someone in the crowd asked in a trembling voice.
Zhang Yizhou sneered, his gaze sweeping over several people in the crowd whose expressions were unnatural, finally settling on the woman in the white dress. His tone was full of sarcasm: "If I hadn't played dead, how would I have known who wanted to take advantage of my 'departure' to move all of the Zhang family's assets into their own names? How would I have known who had already colluded with outsiders, waiting to swallow up the shares I left to Yuechao?"
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