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On the road, my mother chatted with Cheng Luoning as an old friend, fully aware of the situation with the Xiao family. It turned out that Mr. Xiao had left a will stipulating that his children must jointly inherit his shares in the company; otherwise, all his assets would be donated to charity. This was why his son, who had almost lost contact with the family, hurried back from New York—otherwise, neither he nor his sister would receive any inheritance.
The winding mountain road was shrouded in mist, and the cemetery gradually faded behind us. Cheng Luoning received a call from the siblings, asking him to come tomorrow to handle the inheritance procedures. After hanging up, he couldn't help but exclaim, "Their father has just passed away, and they are already eager to get their hands on the inheritance."
I leaned against the car window, nearly falling asleep. The world is inherently realistic; sometimes, people prefer to label this reality as heartless or filled with betrayal and ingratitude. My mother shed tears again, perhaps fearing that she too would experience such sorrow in the future. As one ages, they tend to become more cautious.
Later, I unexpectedly encountered Cheng Luoning three more times; I believed this must have been my mother's arrangement. However, I did not anticipate that this time he would reach out to me due to work.
The Processing Room, with its tightly drawn curtains, never felt oppressive to me; on the contrary, it provided a sense of security. I enjoyed this job simply because I disliked noise and socializing.
At that moment, Xiao Ruohui lay quietly in my Processing Room, just like his father. Due to his fall, the condition of his body was severely damaged. Although I had only met him once, his dark sunglasses that day left me with no strong impression; I could only rely on his photos for body restoration.
Who could have imagined that the wealthy heir returning home to inherit his fortune would now become a terrifying corpse?
I spent six hours barely restoring his body to an acceptable state. Fortunately, he was not overly large, and the area of skin damage was manageable; otherwise, I would have had to expend more effort stitching him up. After applying makeup, he finally resembled his former self again. However, while cleaning the body, I discovered not only dirt but also a small clump of purple substance beneath Xiao Ruohui's nails. Clearly, from the smell, it was nail polish.
I am not a forensic expert but still took care to carefully extract the nail polish remnants and set them aside.
Throughout the entire process, Cheng Luoning observed silently without much reaction; he simply stood quietly by.
Cheng Luoning mentioned that Xiao Ruohui fell from a hotel on the seventh day after his father's funeral. Doctors found traces of hallucinogenic drugs in his system. In his pocket were business cards from Lawyer Cheng and Xiao Ruoan, which led hospital staff to notify them. Although the deceased was unrecognizable, Xiao Ruoan followed protocol and identified her brother's twisted body at the morgue.
Lawyer Cheng went to Xiao Ruohui's hotel room—a luxurious five-star establishment—at a chilling height of nineteen floors. Inside the room, no will could be found; however, he did not believe for a second that this young man had died accidentally.
If life is a series of magnificent and enchanting melodies, can we quietly listen to the intricate undertones that twist and turn?
Only Lawyer Cheng came to bid farewell to Xiao Ruohui. Somehow, he and I had grown familiar with each other, no longer engaging in pleasantries. Facing the second deceased of these days, Cheng Luoning adjusted his glasses, a hint of melancholy in his movements. "The world is harsh, isn't it?"
"You being here is already quite commendable. After all, his family doesn't care about him," I said softly.
"Old Xiao valued me greatly, so I must attend to his son's funeral," Cheng Luoning replied in a flat tone.
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