I work as a security guard at a cemetery, and I overhear the dead chatting about getting rich quick.

Lin Ye stood in front of the third row of tombstones in the East District, frozen like an ice sculpture.

The flashlight beam fell on the tombstone.

The white-haired old man in the tombstone photo has a stern face, serious features, and a hard gaze.

The problem is, photos shouldn't speak.

Even tombstones shouldn't speak.

It's especially inappropriate to start cursing your grandson for being wasteful at midnight.

Lin Ye's mind went blank for two seconds.

Then, it began to try to find a reasonable explanation for itself.

Maybe some scoundrel is hiding in the cemetery at night to scare people.

It's possible that a video on your phone was played aloud without being turned off.

It's also possible that he didn't eat enough instant noodles that night, and the low blood sugar caused the auditory hallucinations.

Of the several reasons, Lin Ye most wanted the first one.

Because if there really is a morally bankrupt person, at least he can use a stun gun to reason with them.

The slow, leisurely voice from the side rang out again.

"Old Li, just shut up. Your grandson's been sold for half a month now, and you can scold him every day, but he won't hear you."

The white-haired old man's voice immediately rose in pitch.

"I'll still curse even if I can't hear you! You spendthrift! I collected that stamp album of mine from the 80s to the 90s, and he sold it to a scrap collector for only twelve dollars! Twelve dollars!"

Lin Ye's finger trembled, and the stun gun almost fell to the ground.

The sound did indeed come from near the tombstone.

And it's not just one.

There are two.

He slowly moved the flashlight to the side.

The photo on the tombstone next to it shows an elderly man with a round face who looks more amiable than Old Li, and even has a calm demeanor like a retired senior cadre.

But this composure seemed particularly out of place at this moment.

Old Li continued cursing.

"When I was alive, I would fight anyone who touched that booklet. Do you know where I hid it? I hid it at the very bottom of the wardrobe, under my sweater, and wrapped it in three layers of plastic bags."

The round-faced old man sighed.

"Your grandson was able to find it, so he's quite patient. At least he looked very diligently."

"Seriously?! He found it without even asking any questions, then carried the booklet and old newspapers downstairs and sold it for twelve dollars. Do you even know what he did with those twelve dollars?"

"What did you do?"

"Buy milk tea!"

The round-faced old man paused for a moment.

"That's not worth it."

"Is the milk tea the main point? The main point is my stamp album!"

Lin Ye stood still, not daring to move.

He felt he should run now.

In this situation, a normal person should immediately turn around, rush back to the security booth as quickly as possible, close the door, lock it, cover themselves with a blanket, resign, call the police, go to the hospital, and ideally find a place to pray while they're there.

But his legs wouldn't obey him.

They are like two wooden stakes driven into the ground, standing straight and upright in place.

He was forced to listen to the two graves continue their conversation.

The round-faced old man spoke slowly.

"Old Li, look on the bright side. At least your grandson knows how to sell things for money. My son is even more filial."

Old Li's temper subsided slightly.

"What's wrong with your son?"

The round-faced old man sneered.

"He took my agate snuff bottle to the old market in Nanqiao and traded it for two cartons of cigarettes with a fat shopkeeper."

Old Li was stunned.

"What kind of cigarettes are you talking about?"

"Hongtashan".

Old Li fell silent.

Lin Ye also fell silent.

On this cold, gloomy night, the two graves of one person simultaneously conducted a brief assessment of the value of Hongtashan.

After a moment, Old Li said in a complicated tone, "That's really not worth it."

The round-faced old man's voice suddenly rose.

"Is the cigarette the point? The point is my snuff bottle! It's an old item! I got it from an old gentleman when I was young, and I'm usually reluctant to take it out. But he traded it for two packs of cigarettes and thought he got a good deal."

Old Li snorted coldly.

"You're still lucky. At least your son bought two packs of cigarettes. My grandson bought a milk tea for twelve yuan and threw away the cup after finishing it."

"What's so special about your stamp album?"

"There are so many. Tickets from the 1980s, commemorative tickets, zodiac tickets, and a set that I've kept hidden away."

"What?"

Old Li paused, his voice carrying a pride that hadn't faded even in death.

"Monkey stamp".

Lin Ye's ears twitched slightly.

He knew nothing about antiques, snuff bottles, and had never touched any old objects.

But he had heard of the term "monkey stamp".

Even though he had no knowledge of collecting, he had seen it online a few times.

It seems to be quite valuable.

Lin Ye's heart skipped a beat.

Immediately afterwards, he pinched his thigh hard.

pain.

It hurts.

This means he wasn't dreaming.

But it's even worse if you don't dream.

The fact that he wasn't dreaming meant he was standing lucidly in the cemetery, listening to two graves complain about their unfilial descendants.

Lin Ye finally mustered up his courage and spoke, his voice trembling.

"Who...who is speaking?"

Old Li was still cursing his grandson.

"Twelve yuan! He even bargained with the person, saying he had a lot of old books at home and would sell them again next time!"

The round-faced old man chimed in.

"Your grandson is quite organized in his work."

"Old Zhou, stop making sarcastic remarks! Your son isn't much better!"

"I admit it, that's why I didn't speak up for him."

The two completely ignored Lin Ye.

Lin Ye swallowed hard and raised his voice slightly.

"Feed?"

Still, no one responded.

The two graves were chatting animatedly, like two retired old men at the entrance of a residential compound.

Lin Ye gradually realized a problem.

They couldn't hear him.

Or rather, they had no idea that a night shift security guard, nearly scared out of his wits, was standing next to them.

This discovery did not reassure Lin Ye.

This only made him more uneasy.

Because if the other party can hear him, he can at least communicate.

For example, ask them to respect the mental health of new employees.

But now, the other person can't hear him.

This is very embarrassing.

He was like a stranger who had accidentally entered a homeowners' group voice conference; he could only listen, not speak, and couldn't even find the exit button.

Lin Ye tried taking another step back.

My heel stepped on a fallen leaf, making a soft crunching sound.

Old Li and Old Zhou still didn't react.

Lin Ye has confirmed it.

They really can't hear.

He took a deep breath, preparing to run away.

But just then, Old Li suddenly spoke up again.

"Old Qin from the south of the city is no good either. He just collects scrap without even looking through it. That booklet was hidden under an old exercise book; he just weighed it and took it away."

Lin Ye's foot, which he had just lifted, stopped in mid-air.

South of the city.

Old Qin.

Old workbook.

Stamp album.

Monkey stamp.

A few words, like a string of small hooks, snapped at his reason.

Lin Ye stood frozen in place.

He told himself not to listen.

This is not normal.

But his mind was already racing uncontrollably.

Old Qin from the south of the city must be a scrap collector.

That stamp album may not have been processed yet.

If there really are monkey stamps inside...

Lin Ye's Adam's apple bobbed.

No.

I can't think about it.

This is too outrageous.

How could a modern young person with higher education believe such an absurd thing?

But another voice rang in his mind.

What's the use of having higher education?

Aren't they still patrolling the cemetery now?

Lin Ye silently swallowed back the bit of dignity he had just felt.

Dignity is something you can be particular about when you have food to eat.

When there's no food, it's best to put it in the back.

Old Zhou was still sighing beside him.

"I don't know where my snuff bottle went. There are so many stalls in Nanqiao Secondhand Market, and that fat boss's eyes are as small as melon seeds. He doesn't look like an honest person at all."

Old Li sneered.

"Your son seems honest; didn't he exchange your things for cigarettes too?"

"That's why I say living people are unreliable."

"You'll only realize that after you're dead?"

"It's better than you dying and still thinking about milk tea."

The two graves started arguing again.

Lin Ye stood to the side, holding the stun gun, his whole body feeling increasingly numb.

I'm really scared.

In the end, something terrifying happened: he developed an eerie calm.

It's like when someone is in debt for a certain period of time, they suddenly find that the debt collection text messages aren't so irritating anymore.

He slowly retreated to the main road.

Then he took two steps back.

Old Li and Old Zhou still did not respond.

Lin Ye then turned around.

He originally intended to walk back to the guard booth with composure, maintaining the last vestige of dignity for a night shift security guard.

But after taking three steps, he abandoned his dignity.

He started running.

He tucked the stun gun under his arm, and the flashlight beam swung erratically across the road.

The wind chased after us from behind, rustling the pines and cypresses.

Old Li was still cursing behind me.

"Twelve yuan! My monkey stamp! That wasteful thing!"

Lin Ye ran even faster.

He rushed into the security booth, slammed the door shut, locked it from the inside, bolted it, and finally barred a chair behind the door.

After doing all this, he realized that his hands had been shaking the whole time.

The security booth was brightly lit.

The instant noodle smell hasn't dissipated yet.

The register was spread out on the table.

The line above, "Everything is normal," lies quietly.

Lin Ye stared at it for a long time, and suddenly felt that these four words were even more frightening than the "wasteful thing" he had just heard.

He picked up a pen, intending to change the record.

For example, change it to:

During a night patrol, something unusual was discovered.

Another example:

In the third row of the eastern section, two graves are suspected of being used for late-night chatting.

But even after the pen tip hovered over the paper for a long time, he couldn't write a single word.

If this is written into the duty log, Uncle Zhao will see it tomorrow and will most likely suggest that he go see a psychiatrist.

Lin Ye put down his pen.

He sat in the chair, staring at the monitor screen.

On the screen, the tombstones in the eastern section are quiet and still.

nobody.

There were no ghosts.

There weren't two retired old men squatting on the grave chatting either.

Only when the wind blows through the pines and cypresses does the paper money occasionally sway.

Everything seemed perfectly normal.

But Lin Ye knew he had heard it.

He heard Old Li cursing his grandson.

I heard Lao Zhou scolding his son.

I heard the stamp album, Old Qin from the south of the city, and the old exercise book.

I also heard two words.

Monkey stamp.

The word was like a pebble thrown into his already terrified mind.

With a thud.

It wasn't water splashing.

It smells of money.

Lin Ye sat in the guard booth until dawn.

He didn't dare go out again during that time.

During his patrol at three o'clock, he wrote four words in the duty log:

It's windy; we've already patrolled the area.

As dawn approached, Uncle Zhao arrived with breakfast.

He saw Lin Ye sitting in a chair, with dark circles under his eyes and a pale face as if he hadn't slept all night.

Uncle Zhao was stunned for a moment.

"Kobayashi, you're not asleep?"

Lin Ye slowly turned his head to look at him.

"Uncle Zhao."

"Um?"

Lin Ye's voice was a little hoarse.

"Any unusual noises or disturbances in our cemetery at night?"

Uncle Zhao put the soy milk on the table and looked at him for a while.

"The wind?"

Lin Ye remained silent.

Uncle Zhao then asked, "A cat?"

Lin Ye remained silent.

Uncle Zhao thought for a moment and added, "And tree branches."

Looking at his serious face, Lin Ye suddenly wondered if Uncle Zhao really didn't know, or was just pretending not to know.

He opened his mouth, but in the end, he swallowed his words back.

What did you say?

He said he overheard two graves chatting last night.

Uncle Zhao might hand him the soy milk and gently advise him, "Child, drink this and then go to the hospital."

Lin Ye glanced down at his phone.

The bus app shows that the first bus to the south of the city will arrive in twenty minutes.

Uncle Zhao took the registration book and told Lin Ye to go back and rest.

When Lin Ye stood up, his legs were still a little weak.

Uncle Zhao asked, "Where are you going?"

Lin Ye grabbed his coat, his expression very serious.

"I'm going to verify the science."

Uncle Zhao frowned.

"What science?"

Lin Ye had already pushed open the door and gone out.

"The Science of Waste Recycling"

It was just dawn, and the wind at the entrance of Qingshan Cemetery was still quite cold.

Lin Ye stood by the roadside and glanced back at the direction of the East District.

Rows of tombstones were hidden in the morning mist, as quiet as if nothing had happened.

But in his mind, Old Li's curse from last night was still echoing repeatedly.

"There are monkey stamps inside!"

Lin Ye took a deep breath.

The fear remains.

But the bank card balance is still there.

After a brief exchange, the latter won without any suspense.

He took out his phone and checked the route to the scrap yard in the south of the city.

Then I boarded the first bus.