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

Uncle Zhao didn't answer immediately.

The machine in the room glowed with a faint blue light, and the lines on the screen occasionally flickered.

He finds him annoying.

Master Lai held the thermos cup, unscrewed the lid, and screwed it back on.

Click.

Click.

Uncle Zhao held back for a moment, but couldn't help himself.

"Are you being cheeky?"

Master Lai was taken aback and looked down at his cup.

"I'm used to it."

"Change it," Uncle Zhao said coldly. "It's annoying to hear."

The young man frowned.

Master Lai wasn't angry; he actually put the cup down.

The room was silent for a few seconds.

Uncle Zhao leaned back in his chair.

The young man pushed the phone on the table a little closer.

The phone screen wasn't lit, but Uncle Zhao knew what was inside.

Zhao Lele, carrying a schoolbag and missing a front tooth, stood at the school gate eating a steamed bun.

The child knows nothing.

"Don't scare me with the child."

Uncle Zhao stared at his phone, his voice lowering.

The young man said, "Master Zhao, we just want you to cooperate."

"Cooperate?"

Uncle Zhao chuckled.

"You tricked me out of the cemetery, then threatened me with a video of my grandson. Is this what you call cooperating?"

The young man didn't respond.

Master Lai rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, "Old Zhao, arguing with him is useless. He's just someone who gets things done."

"And you?"

Uncle Zhao looked at him.

"Aren't you?"

Master Lai thought about it.

"I consider myself a skilled worker."

Uncle Zhao almost laughed out of anger.

"You guys have different roles for kidnapping people now?"

Master Lai moved the thermos cup to the side.

"Say only what they can include in their report, and keep the things they really can't say to themselves. That's better for you and for us."

The young man looked up: "Master Lai."

Master Lai didn't look at him.

Uncle Zhao stared at Master Lai for a long time.

"Are you saying this to help them or to help me?"

Master Lai said, "It saves me trouble."

Uncle Zhao snorted.

"At least you're speaking human language."

He raised his hand and wiped his face.

When I rubbed my fingertip against the corner of my eye, I realized how dry my under-eye area was.

I was tricked out of the cemetery early this morning and have been here ever since, without even a sip of water.

There is bottled water on the table.

He didn't touch it.

Disgusted by dirt.

It's not the water that's dirty, it's the house.

He put his hand on the table.

"I've heard of it."

The young man immediately picked up the pen.

Uncle Zhao glanced at him.

"Write slowly, don't turn this into a ghost story."

The pen paused for a moment.

Master Lai couldn't help but laugh.

Uncle Zhao ignored him.

"Over the years, I've worked the night shift in Qingshan, and I have indeed occasionally heard people talking."

The young man was writing with his head down.

Uncle Zhao continued, "It doesn't happen every day, and it's not everywhere. It's usually late at night, after midnight. It's more common in the west district, less so in the east district. Around the back hill area..."

He paused here.

Master Lai, look over here.

Uncle Zhao changed his story: "It's windy on the back mountain, so it's easy to misunderstand."

The young man looked up: "So there are some on the back hill too?"

Uncle Zhao glared at him.

"I said it's windy, can't you understand human language?"

The young man didn't pursue her further and continued taking notes with his head down.

Master Lai asked, "Is the sound clear?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't understand?"

Uncle Zhao pointed to the wall.

"Have you ever heard the neighbors arguing? You know they're swearing, but you can't make out what they're saying. It's just something like that."

Master Lai nodded.

"Can you tell who it is?"

Sometimes it works. Sometimes it's just a mess.

When was the first time you heard it?

Uncle Zhao thought for a while.

"About four years ago."

"What did you say?"

Uncle Zhao didn't speak immediately.

The young man waited.

Uncle Zhao looked at the scratch on the table and slowly began to speak.

"Under the old locust tree in the west district, an old man had just been buried. When I went over to patrol, I heard someone muttering that he had a Yuan Shikai silver dollar and that his second son shouldn't take it and sell it."

The young man flipped through the documents.

The next day, you went to the Nanqiao Secondhand Market.

"Um."

"I bought a broken cigarette box for 120 yuan."

"There's a Yuan Shikai silver dollar in the interlayer."

"It sold for two thousand six hundred."

Uncle Zhao looked up.

"You've investigated so thoroughly, why are you still asking me?"

The young man did not answer.

Uncle Zhao didn't expect him to answer.

He twitched the corner of his mouth.

"There were a few more times after that. Some people said there were silver coins under the cabinet in the old house, some said a bronze incense burner was left behind when they moved, and some said that famous paintings and calligraphy were sold as waste paper by their family members."

"Is it all true?"

"Some are true, some are false."

Uncle Zhao's tone was impatient.

"Dead people aren't gods. They might be confused when they're alive, but they're not necessarily wise when they're dead. There was this old man who said he had gold buried in his grave, but when I went to check, it was just a bunch of foxtail grass, growing quite vigorously."

Master Lai burst out laughing this time.

The young man didn't laugh; he continued writing.

Uncle Zhao glanced at him.

"What, not scary enough? Do I have to tell you that a hundred ghosts roam the Green Hills at night before you feel it's worth the ticket price?"

Master Lai waved his hand.

"This is fine."

Uncle Zhao ignored him.

"Most of the time it's just nonsense. People scold their children for being unfilial, complain about how ugly the paper money they burn is, say that the old man next door snores, and there's an old lady who complains every day about how her granddaughter's paper clothes are a dull color."

He paused suddenly at this point.

He used to find those words too noisy.

I hate it to death.

Now that I'm being forced to talk about it, it feels like taking Qingshan's little nightly gossip and letting outsiders rummage through it.

Very uncomfortable.

Master Lai could tell that he didn't want to continue, so he changed his question.

"Before Lin Ye arrived, could you still hear anything?"

Uncle Zhao had a sullen face.

"able."

"And then what happened?"

Uncle Zhao remained silent.

The young man looked up.

Uncle Zhao clicked his tongue.

"That's all."

The room fell silent.

Even the electrical noise from that machine seemed a bit louder.

Master Lai took half a step forward.

"Completely gone?"

"There was still a little at first."

Uncle Zhao gestured with his hand.

"It was like a radio running out of power, just crackling and hissing. Not long after he started patrolling alone at night, I really couldn't hear it anymore."

"Did you ask him?"

"What do you want to ask?"

Uncle Zhao rolled his eyes.

"Asking him if he can hear dead people talking—did he steal my ears?"

Master Lai was amused again.

Uncle Zhao glared at him.

Master Lai immediately stopped: "You can continue."

"There's nothing more to say," Uncle Zhao said. "I thought I was just getting old and my hearing wasn't what it used to be. Later, I went to the west district and the back mountain in the middle of the night, but there was nothing there."

The young man said, "But Lin Ye can hear it."

Uncle Zhao looked at him.

He neither nodded nor shook his head.

The young man said, "His earnings in a few months are more significant than yours over several years."

Uncle Zhao sneered.

"He was just lucky."

"You just said you were lucky."

"What else?"

Uncle Zhao leaned back.

"We're the night shift twins at Qingshan Cemetery, mainly relying on one job to generate income?"

Young man: "..."

Master Lai coughed and lowered his head to drink water.

The young man steered the conversation back on track: "What about other cemeteries?"

Uncle Zhao answered quickly.

"I've tried it."

"Which ones?"

"The South Suburbs Cemetery, the North Mountain Cemetery, the grave of an old colleague of mine in the west of the city, and the ancestral graves of my late husband's family."

"Can you hear me?"

"cannot."

"None of them?"

Uncle Zhao looked at him impatiently.

"Are you a broken record?"

The young man pursed his lips.

Uncle Zhao said, "An ordinary cemetery is just an ordinary cemetery. The wind blows through the trees, cats fight, cars rumble in the distance, and at most, a family member cries a couple of times. That's all."

Master Lai tightened the lid of the cup.

"Therefore, there are only green mountains."

Uncle Zhao did not answer.

Not answering is an answer.

The room was quiet for a while.

The young man pressed his earpiece and reported in a low voice.

"Zhao Jianguo admitted that he occasionally heard human voices while working the night shift in Qingshan in recent years, but the voices were indistinct. He tried other cemeteries, but there were no abnormalities. After Lin Ye joined the company, he basically lost his ability to hear."

A few words came through the earphones.

After listening, the young man looked at Master Lai.

Master Lai picked up the thermos.

"That's about it."

Uncle Zhao frowned.

"That's it?"

The young man put the documents away.

"You can go back now."

"So quick?" Uncle Zhao sneered. "Don't you want to go through the proper procedures? Use a stun gun, pour pepper spray. Isn't that how it's always portrayed in TV dramas?"

The young man pulled a piece of paper from the folder and pushed it over.

City West Health and Wellness Center.

Lumbar spine follow-up examination record.

Uncle Zhao's name, ID number, date, and doctor's signature were all present.

"You came in this morning for a follow-up check-up on your back."

The young man said, "The registration, payment, and monitoring all match up."

Uncle Zhao looked at the paper and felt a chill run down his spine.

These people are so clean in their work that it's creepy.

He looked up: "What if I call the police?"

The young man smiled but did not answer.

He picked up his phone, and the screen lit up briefly.

In the photo, Zhao Lele is sitting in the first row of the classroom, her books open, her head nodding, so sleepy that she can barely keep her eyes open.

Uncle Zhao suddenly stood up.

The chair slammed against the wall with a loud bang.

Two men pushed the door open and came in.

Master Lai raised his hand.

"go out."

The two men looked at the young man.

The young man nodded.

The door closed again.

Uncle Zhao stared at his phone, his eyes reddening.

"You dare touch him and see what happens."

The young man tampered with the phone.

"As long as you don't talk nonsense, no one will bother him."

"Where's Lin Ye?"

The young man looked at him.

Uncle Zhao gritted his teeth.

"If you're looking for Lin Ye, go find him. Don't touch my grandson."

The young man said, "He's in Haicheng, we know that."

Uncle Zhao's face immediately turned ugly.

The young man closed the folder.

"So, Mr. Zhao, take care of your family."

Uncle Zhao didn't say anything more.

He knew that whatever he said today would be useless.

Half an hour later, the car took him back to the outside of Qingshan Cemetery.

Still no entry.

The young man handed him a brown paper bag.

"The follow-up examination report and the plaster. Take them; they look more presentable."

Uncle Zhao didn't answer.

The paper bag fell onto the seat.

He pushed open the door and got out of the car.

Just before closing the door, he glanced back at the people inside the car.

"People like you will get your comeuppance sooner or later."

The young man's face was expressionless.

"Many people say that."

Uncle Zhao slammed the car door shut.

The rain stopped a long time ago.

The steps at the entrance of the cemetery were still wet, with a small puddle of water accumulating at one corner.

Uncle Zhao's hand trembled slightly when he touched the keys.

He cursed.

It's not fear.

He was extremely angry.

The security booth door was open, and the small lamp was still on.

I was in a rush this morning and forgot to turn it off.

The anti-floating bottle was perched on the corner of the table.

Lin Ye's notebook was still underneath.

He took out the notebook and flipped through two pages.

Clues to wealth.

The name of a dead person.

The Gu family's accounts.

Zheng Shouan.

There were also some markings that became increasingly incomprehensible over time.

Lin Ye's handwriting isn't very good; sometimes he even uses cursive, making it look like a primary school student rushing to finish his homework.

Uncle Zhao stared at it for a while, then closed the notebook.

The phone was right next to me.

He opened his chat window with Lin Ye.

The previous post was from Lin Ye:

"We've arrived. We're alive."

The previous message was his own reply:

"Don't run around."

Uncle Zhao felt a lump in his throat as he looked at those three words.

He wanted to type "Don't come back."

The words had just appeared when they were deleted.

I want to type "stay away from Qingshan".

I typed half of it, then deleted it.

Finally, the screen went black.

Not a single word was sent.

Those people knew where Lele was, and they also knew that Lin Ye was in Haicheng.

The more he talks, the more dangerous the forest becomes.

Uncle Zhao put the phone down and placed the anti-floating bottle back on the laptop.

This time the pressure is very heavy.

He sat there for a while, then muttered a curse under his breath.

"You brat."

"How come you had to hear that?"

Third floor of the West City Sanatorium.

After Wenren Heng finished reading the interrogation summary, he placed the paper on the table.

Master Lai sat on the sofa, holding a thermos.

Wenren Heng asked, "Did you tell the truth?"

Master Lai yawned.

"Major matters are never lied about. Minor matters are always concealed."

"What are you hiding?"

"It's hard to say, but it doesn't matter anymore."

Master Lai unscrewed the lid of the cup, and steam hit his face.

"The old man is protective of his own. Knowing he can't protect too many people, he only says what he can say."

Wenren Heng looked at the satellite image of Qingshan Cemetery on the table.

The West District, the Back Hill, and the Security Post were all marked.

Zhao Jianguo could not hear clearly.

"Hmm, maybe it's because I'm getting old."

"Did Lin Ye hear that clearly?"

"Judging from what he has done, he is definitely much clearer than Zhao Jianguo."

Wenren Heng tapped the report with his fingertip.

"You can sense something is wrong, but you can't hear the specifics."

Master Lai took a sip of water.

"I'm not like that."

Wenren Heng nodded.

"Zhao Jianguo used to be able to hear a little. But now that Lin Ye is here, he can't hear anymore."

Master Lai remained silent.

Wenren Heng looked at the satellite image.

"Humans are receivers."

His voice wasn't loud.

"Qingshan Cemetery, or rather, Qingshan itself, is the key."

Master Lai nodded.

Wenren Heng closed the report.

"Cha Qingshan."

The assistant immediately grabbed a pen.

"Send someone into the cemetery?"

"Don't rush."

Wenren Heng raised his hand and pointed to the location of the mountain behind the satellite image.

"Hasn't Qingshan Cemetery always wanted to do a second phase of expansion?"

The assistant was taken aback.

"The project is still stuck."

"Let it pass."

Wenrenheng said, "There are plenty of reasons for fire access, slope reinforcement, drainage system renovation, and greening of the back mountain."

"The procedures were completed thoroughly."

"clear."

Looking at the drawing, Master Lai suddenly said, "Don't dig too deep all at once."

Wenren Heng looked at him.

Master Lai said, "That spot is wrong. If there really is something there, shoveling it in might not be a good thing."

Wenren Heng smiled.

"First, conduct surveys and exploration."

He told his assistant, "The equipment will be outsourced to an engineering team; we won't use our own people."

The assistant made a note of it and then asked, "Where is Lin Ye?"

Wenren Heng picked up another document.

The cover features a young woman.

Long hair, white dress, clean-cut features, and a gentle smile.

Name: Su Tinglan.

Wenren Heng pushed the documents to the center of the table.

"Let Tinglan go; young people will have more to talk about with each other."

Master Lai looked up.

"Now?"

Wenren Heng did not answer.

The assistant handed over a record of fieldwork in Haicheng.

The record is simple.

Lin Ye went to the East Suburbs Cemetery last night. He stopped at the entrance for more than ten minutes and chatted with the cemetery's night shift security guard.

Afterwards, we went to the old sea burial memorial site.

I stood in front of the monument for a long time.

Master Lai frowned after reading it.

"It seems he's testing his abilities."

Wenren Heng hummed in agreement.

He also wanted to know if he would still be able to hear it after leaving Qingshan.

The field staff could only see him standing there.

It was impossible to see what he heard in his ears.

Wenren Heng put down the record.

That's why someone needs to get close to him.

"Walking the same road, meeting by chance, chatting, falling in love."

Master Lai glanced at Su Tinglan's photo.

"Then Tinglan is just right."

Outside the window, Qingcheng Mountain was shrouded in a gray haze after the rain.

Wenren Heng looked at the fog and slowly said:

"Let's take a look first."

"He can only hear from Qingshan Cemetery."

"Something's still wrong; he can hear it wherever it is."