The funeral procession moved in sparse, scattered steps.
A fine rain drifted down like mist.
Only a few held up umbrellas.
The others walked through the downpour.
Cold raindrops sharpened Autumn Ease’s mind, yet the funeral music still left him heavy with gloom.
The mournful tunes were grand and solemn, but the sorrow beneath them couldn’t be hidden.
Autumn Ease didn’t know if this drizzly day had been chosen on purpose. Either way, the weather fit the mood perfectly…
He hunched his shoulders against the biting wind.
*Rain drizzles thick on Pure Brightness Day…*
It wasn’t Pure Brightness now—it was autumn. Yet this desolation felt deeper than any Qingming chill.
He’d borrowed a lighter from Uncle, but the incense in his hand kept sputtering out, reigniting only to die again…
The rain wasn’t heavy, but it snuffed out every fragile flame.
***BOOM—CRACK—!***
The ceremonial cannon truck roared, shaking the ground like real firecrackers.
Some faces were heavy with grief. Others were stern. A few showed no expression at all.
And Autumn Ease? He didn’t know what face to wear.
So he kept his head down and walked in silence.
The crematorium wasn’t far.
Yet it took nearly half an hour to reach.
On any other day, fifteen minutes would’ve sufficed.
Cars stopped here. The coffin was carried into the memorial hall. Wreaths lined the entrance like manicured flower beds—except these blossoms were paper fakes, lifeless imitations. Just like the body in the coffin: an empty shell left behind after life departed.
Inside the hall, sobs grew louder. More people wept.
Perhaps they’d been chatting and laughing earlier. Now, grief broke through.
Because… this was the final path.
“Relatives, stand to the right. Colleagues and friends, to the left. Immediate family, center stage,” the funeral director intoned, slow and grave.
When everyone settled, he raised a hand. Silence fell.
The hall was packed, yet utterly still.
Autumn Ease could hear his own heartbeat.
“Please turn off your phones or switch to silent mode. We’ll begin the ceremony.”
“Mr. Wang Haitian passed peacefully at age 55, at 8:08 PM at home. He served as Director of the Propaganda Department at Hangzhou Municipal Public Security Bureau…”
The eulogy droned on.
Only the director’s voice filled the hall.
When his cousin—Wang’s daughter—took the podium, she was already choking on tears.
Her trembling voice spread like contagion. Close relatives dabbed their eyes.
Even Autumn Ease, numb to it all, sighed softly.
“My father… he was so good to me… he…”
Her words dissolved into sobs. No coherent sentence made it through.
The director leaned toward her mother. “Hurry your daughter along. Others are waiting.”
In that moment, Autumn Ease realized: of everyone here, this director was the coldest.
“…Thank you to Father’s colleagues and comrades…”
Finally, she finished. The director took the mic. Time for the last farewell.
The final goodbye.
Wang’s daughter collapsed against the coffin, wailing. Tears streamed down like pearls snapping off a necklace. Through the glass lid, she seemed to clutch her father already.
“I can’t let Dad go… I don’t want him to leave…”
“He looks like he’s just sleeping… before they cremate him…”
“Get your daughter away now. We’re behind schedule.” The director’s voice cut through—no longer grave, just icy.
After all, this was just another job to him.
First colleagues and friends approached. Then relatives.
Autumn Ease followed Uncle, stepping slowly toward the coffin.
This was the second time he’d seen his uncle’s body.
He bowed deeply, like the others.
Nothing strange happened.
Autumn Ease exhaled slightly, relieved. He turned to leave with the crowd.
Last came the cremation.
The funeral wasn’t over yet—they’d still go to the public cemetery.
A strange, charred smell drifted from the cremation room. It made Autumn Ease queasy.
Especially knowing what it was.
The rain thickened. Autumn Ease shared an umbrella with Uncle.
Trying to lighten the mood, he asked with a faint smile, “Uncle, how’s it feel throwing money around?”
“Thrilling. Rare chance to toss cash like confetti. Wanna try?”
“Uh… I’ll pass,” Autumn Ease coughed, forcing a dry chuckle.
Uncle smiled back briefly, then his face tightened.
Some things just couldn’t be laughed away.
“Uncle… tell me about you and Cousin when you were kids?”
“Hmm… not much to tell. Grew up like brothers. His parents looked after our family too. They both passed in their fifties…”
“Hereditary cerebral hemorrhage?”
“Yeah…”
The urn emerged. Wang’s daughter’s face was streaked with tears.
They burned paper offerings. Wreaths were loaded onto a truck for the cemetery.
No seats left for Autumn Ease and Uncle—they rode in the cannon truck instead.
Outside, the blasts had been loud. Inside? Deafening.
Each ***BOOM*** rattled the seats. In a weird way… it was thrilling.
A bizarre new experience.
Autumn Ease slumped in his seat. The truck would circle the city’s main roads first—plenty of time to kill.
He pulled out his phone. An unnamed app was downloading itself. He couldn’t stop it. It installed automatically.
After it finished, he scoured his phone. No trace of the app.
“What the hell? Some rogue app?” He flinched, installing an antivirus app on impulse. It found nothing. Worse—it tried pushing a “full security suite” on him. He deleted it fast.
The mysterious app remained invisible. Like it had never existed.
After fiddling for a while, he decided the system must’ve auto-deleted it. He gave up, opened QQ (knowing no one would message him), scrolled mindlessly, snapped a few photos, then stuffed the phone back in his pocket.
The cemetery finally appeared.
It was right beside the crematorium—they’d just taken the long way.
Wreaths were stacked beside a dry concrete pool.
“Come on, let’s burn these,” Uncle called. They helped workers light the pile, then stepped back.
The wreaths crackled like firecrackers. Autumn Ease realized for the first time: their frames were bamboo.
Thick black smoke rolled upward, staining the pale clouds above.
This was the cemetery.
Gravestones crowded every inch.
Ancient markers stood under pine trees thick enough to block the sun.
Newer graves had only sparse, stunted shrubs.
Stones told countless stories.
Most were raised by family. Some by friends. A rare few by fathers for sons. One even bore an inscription from a great-grandson to his great-grandfather—the old man had outlived his own son and grandson…
One stone. One life. Epitaphs varied—long or short—but all reduced to a few lines.
A lifetime of decades… ending in mere sentences.
Only a handful would be remembered.
Autumn Ease stood on a slope, gazing back at the city. His chest tightened.
The plots here were cramped. Each held just one urn.
He watched the urn lower into the earth. The funeral was ending.
It meant that except for his closest kin… he’d slowly fade from memory.
Maybe the true horror of death wasn’t the end itself—but being forgotten.
***Whump.***
Dizziness struck out of nowhere. His grip on the umbrella slipped. The world tilted. He felt himself falling—or being laid gently on the ground.
He opened his eyes. Funeral music filled his ears.
People walked past his coffin, bowing. His parents wailed, collapsing beside him.
He… was inside the coffin.
It began to move.
The crematorium loomed ahead.
Heat already licked at his skin.
*No. No no no—!* He screamed inside his head. But no sound escaped. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
Even his open eyes were forced shut by some unseen pressure.
Then he sensed another presence.
Another *body*.
A woman’s body.
She stood nearby, watching him silently.
He strained to open his eyes—to look at her.
He could control her body.
The sensation was bizarre.
Like playing two characters in a game at once.
Staring at each other felt like gazing into a mirror.
But… why did Autumn Ease have two bodies?
Which one was the real him?
Goosebumps prickled his skin.
One thing was certain: he absolutely could not enter that cremation chamber.
Who knew if he’d truly die?
He made the woman’s body grab his own wrist.
***—***
In that instant… as if tearing through space and time… he *woke up*.
The cemetery stretched before him. He stood under his umbrella, unmoved.
As if nothing had happened.
