Chapter Two: The Corpse Fisher

The river that runs through our entire Luoshen Township is called the Luoshui River, a tributary of the Yellow River. It was only after I learned that my brother was a corpse retriever that I understood what he meant when he said it was easier to work in Sanlitun. That’s because in Sanlitun, there are the Twelve Ghost Caverns—twelve holes in the mountain where the Luoshui passes through Sanlitun. According to legend, these were opened by Yu the Great during his flood control efforts to release the waters. The place was once called the Twelve Eyes of Luoshui, but the name “Ghost Caverns” has only become common in recent years.

The reason for this name is that no one who ever entered these caverns came out again; only in, never out—hence, “Ghost Caverns.” The elders say that, in the past, the Twelve Ghost Caverns were not so ominous; boats could pass freely, and merchant ships once traveled this way. But during the War of Resistance, a fierce battle upstream left many dead. The Japanese soldiers, seeking to destroy evidence, dumped the bodies in the river. Countless corpses floated down and were drawn into the Ghost Caverns. For reasons unknown, the bodies never emerged from the other side, instead becoming trapped inside the twelve holes. Ever since, strange occurrences have plagued the area, and many claim to have seen ghosts inside. Any who enter the Twelve Ghost Caverns never return, and so the legend grew.

Because the Luoshui is close by, and as a downstream branch of the Yellow River, people who fall into the water upstream often end up here. There are indeed a few professional corpse retrievers in Sanlitun, but they usually fish in the river, since improved safety measures have greatly reduced the number of drownings. That’s why my brother was ridiculed: first, because he raised a flag when retrieving bodies, and second, because it seemed he did nothing else—how could he expect to make a living?

But soon, my brother raised a second flag. This one read: “Willing to retrieve corpses from the Twelve Ghost Caverns.”

This caused an uproar in our area.

The Twelve Ghost Caverns are taboo for everyone. For decades, no one has ever returned alive. The river flows downstream, so it’s not uncommon for drowned bodies to end up in the caverns, but no one dared go in. Years ago, the son of a prominent figure from our city drowned while swimming with his girlfriend, and his body was washed into the Ghost Caverns. No sum of money could persuade the corpse retrievers to enter. Later, the man brought in divers, but after three divers vanished inside, he had to give up.

Now, someone was claiming he could enter the Twelve Ghost Caverns?

The villagers all thought my brother was a fool or an arrogant braggart. After he raised the second flag, people began looking at me strangely as well. I sought him out to talk, not for any other reason, but because I knew how dangerous those caverns were.

I suspected my brother was confident because he’d once been a corpse retriever himself, skilled in water and a staunch materialist. He must have believed his abilities would see him through the Twelve Ghost Caverns. I wanted to tell him just how terrifying those caverns really were. But before I could speak, he waved me off: “I know everything. If I say I can go in, then I can go in.”

“But the problem is—”

He interrupted, “Nothing will happen.”

I said nothing more. As I’ve said, we weren’t close, and his personality made communication difficult. When I returned home, my mother, having heard the news, was in tears. “Yezi, go talk to your brother. Entering the Ghost Caverns is courting death!”

“I tried. He wouldn’t listen,” I replied.

“Then I’ll go. If he doesn’t care for himself, he must still resent us,” she said, crying.

I quickly stopped her, knowing it would be fruitless. “It’s late tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go with you.”

But the next morning, when I took her there, we were already too late. Many cars were parked in front of the two-story house where my brother stayed, and a crowd gathered, but everyone was silent.

We squeezed through and saw a group of people surrounding a portly middle-aged man as he approached my brother. This was the prominent figure whose son had drowned years ago.

He walked up to my brother and extended his hand. “Brother, may I ask your name?”

“Sun Zhongmou,” my brother replied softly, making no move to shake hands.

The man, a little taken aback by the lack of courtesy, awkwardly withdrew his hand. “A fine name! ‘May my son be like Sun Zhongmou’—excellent. So, you can retrieve a body from the Twelve Ghost Caverns?”

“Yes,” my brother replied coolly.

“You can recover the one that washed in years ago, too?” the man pressed.

This time, my brother just nodded, not even speaking.

“There are many bones in there. Are you sure you won’t take the wrong one?” a bespectacled man at the big shot’s side asked.

My brother glanced at him. “The sign is here, and I’m here. Do you think I’d take the wrong one?”

“How dare you speak like that!” the man in glasses snapped.

My brother glanced at him again, then looked away, ignoring him entirely. The man turned red with anger, but the prominent figure waved him aside. “Wang, step back.”

Then he turned to my brother. “Heroes have always been proud. Seeing your pride, I know you have real skill. To be honest, three years ago my son drowned and was swept into the Ghost Caverns. I’ve tried everything, but his body couldn’t be recovered. I haven’t slept peacefully since. His death was fate, but I can’t let him rest without a proper burial. If you can do this for me, I will reward you handsomely.”

“One hundred thousand. I want it in cash,” my brother said.

“Deal!” The man beckoned, and the man in glasses handed over a bag. He took out a thick stack of cash and handed it to my brother. “Money isn’t an issue, but as Wang just said, there are countless bodies in the Ghost Caverns. If you bring back the wrong one, I won’t take it lightly.”

My brother waved me over. Embarrassed, I walked to his side. He handed me the money. “Hold this.”

Then he turned to the man. “I need something else.”

“What else?” the man asked.

My brother produced a needle. “I need your blood.”

At these words, the man’s entourage protested, but the prominent man, true to his reputation, stopped them with a wave and extended his hand. “If you need it, take it.”

My brother lightly pricked his middle finger, squeezed out a drop of blood, dipped it on his own finger, then tasted it in his mouth. He nodded. “Wait for me.”

He went into his two-story house, and soon emerged shirtless, carrying a wooden raft. His muscles were lean and defined; his physique was nearly perfect, every muscle rippling with strength as he hefted the raft.

“Don’t go, son!” my mother cried.

“It’s fine,” my brother replied.

My mother tried to stop him, but the big shot’s men held her back, grabbing her clothing so roughly they nearly tore it.

My brother set down the raft, glaring at the man holding my mother’s clothes. “Let go.”

His tone left no room for argument.

The thugs looked at my brother, then at their boss.

“I said, let go!” My brother strode over. I barely saw how he moved—his right hand locked around the man’s neck. The man’s face turned purple, and my brother’s grip was strong enough to break his neck.

The rest of the henchmen tried to surge forward, but the prominent man shouted, “Get back! Let go of that lady, now!”

Then he apologized to my brother. “Brother, don’t hold it against them. My apologies.”

My brother ignored him and turned to our tearful mother. “It’s all right. Trust me.”

He lifted the raft, and, followed by our crowd, headed to the riverbank. Alone, he boarded the raft with a bamboo pole.

On the wide river, one man and one raft seemed so small.

With nothing but his raft, he pushed himself toward the Twelve Ghost Caverns.

After my brother’s figure vanished into the darkness of the Ghost Caverns, many people held their breath; many sighed. I overheard their whispers: “He’s finished. No one comes out alive from there.”

Hearing their words, my worry turned to anger. I turned to glare at them. “Nonsense! If my brother comes out, I’ll slap your faces!”

They didn’t argue further, but their expressions showed only scorn.

My brother was gone half an hour. With each passing minute, more people declared he was surely dead. Even the prominent man came over. “That was your brother, right? Don’t worry, I won’t take back the one hundred thousand. Consider it the price of a life.”

He turned to leave with his group.

“Wait!” I don’t know where I found the courage, but I called after him.

He looked back at me. “Yes?”

“My brother will come out. Wait a little longer. And even if he doesn’t, we don’t want your money. We’re poor, but we don’t need your charity.” I placed the money on the ground.

He looked me up and down, hesitated, then said, “All right. For the sake of brotherhood, I’ll respect your wish.”

An hour later, a raft emerged from the darkness of the Twelve Ghost Caverns. Standing on it was a man, muscles rippling, and beside him lay a skeleton.

“He’s out! My brother is out! Did you see?!” Tears streamed down my face. I’d never acted so childish, but I wanted to boast to those who doubted him.

The prominent man’s expression turned solemn. He watched my brother until he reached the shore, and his men immediately went to handle the remains.

My brother came ashore and told the man, “You can have it tested.”

The man clapped my brother on the shoulder. “No need. When I saw that ring, I knew it was my boy. Brother, thank you. From now on, you’re a friend of Tang Renjie! Wang, bring me the bag!”

Wang, now afraid to meet my brother’s gaze, handed over the bag. The man pulled out a stack of cash, then put it back and handed my brother the entire bag. “Brother, take it!”

I’m not greedy, but seeing that much money made my heart race. I’d never seen so much in my life. I even heard others swallowing with envy.

But my brother pushed the bag back. “For retrieving a body, I charge one hundred thousand. Not a penny more.”