Chapter 4: The Night Shift Begins

Waking up, washing up—another beautiful day. After packing my things, I ran to the entrance of the residential complex to grab a steamer of buns and a cup of soy milk. Checking the time, it was exactly seven o'clock, so I headed to the bus stop to wait. While waiting for the bus, Liu Jun wolfed down his buns, eyeing the people around him. There was a girl with a ponytail in jeans who stood there at seven o'clock sharp every day to catch the bus to the district hospital. He had seen her frequently over the past few days. The 301 bus slowly pulled up; it was the only bus that went directly from here to Zhiyang Road, no transfers required.

Liu Jun finished the last of his buns in two bites and scrambled onto the bus, ending up standing right next to the girl. A faint, clean fragrance wafted over. The girl glanced at him but didn't say a word. Liu Jun immediately puffed out his chest and sucked in his stomach—he had gained some weight while lying in the hospital, and sporting a beer belly was too embarrassing. He held his breath for nearly the entire ride. Still, he didn't dare strike up a conversation; he was neither a creep nor a ladies' man. He just stood there by her side until she got off at her stop.

"Morning, Auntie Wang! Tidying up the storefront again?"

As he walked into his shop, Liu Jun greeted Auntie Wang, who ran the funeral supplies store next door. Even though they were competitors, the relationships on this street were actually quite good. If someone ran out of stock, they could borrow from a neighbor at cost in an emergency. Besides, the neighbors held the old man in high regard, though Liu Jun never quite understood why.

"Little Liu, you're here! Have you eaten? If you don't mind, I've got some boiled eggs inside. Should I get you some?" Auntie Wang started heading toward her room as she spoke.

Auntie Wang and Liu Jun were quite close now. When he first arrived, they barely spoke, but a few days ago, a giant rat had gotten into her shop and scared her silly. Hearing her screams, he had rushed over and engaged in a fierce battle with the creature. While he didn't achieve a decisive victory or manage to catch it, he at least drove it out of the shop. Since then, they had become familiar, often greeting each other and checking if the other had eaten.

"No, no, that's alright, Auntie Wang! I had breakfast on the way, really. I'm not just being polite," Liu Jun said urgently as he unlocked his door, terrified she would actually bring the eggs out.

"Fine then, just tell me if you're hungry. Don't be a stranger," Auntie Wang replied.

"You got it, Auntie Wang!" Liu Jun said, stepping inside.

He picked up a broom to sweep the floor and wiped down the tables. He moved some wreaths, incense paper, and spirit money to the entrance for customers to see. He had once tried putting the paper figures out front like the other shops, but the old man had made him move them right back inside. Liu Jun didn't understand the rules—he’d never been exposed to this trade—but the old man had warned him that paper figures were significant. You couldn't just craft them, buy them, or burn them at will; it was easy to run afoul of taboos.

Most people might think, "They're just paper figures." But in reality, this was a form of folk art—traditional folk art, no less, like paper cutting, clay sculpting, or painting. To put it bluntly, it was a trade for those who lived off the dead. The industry had existed since ancient times, and the customs and taboos were endless. If the old man hadn't told him, Liu Jun never would have known—after all, as a model socialist youth, why would he care about such things?

For instance, if you’ve ever seen these paper figures, you might notice they lack eyes. Why? Folklore says that a paper figure with eyes will come to life. In reality, it’s not that they come to life, but that a figure with eyes becomes a "vessel without an owner," easily possessed by wandering spirits.

Then there’s the color. That’s a big deal. Paper figures are usually boy and girl attendants. According to the "red boy, green girl" rule, the boy must be in red and the girl in green. You can't mix them up, or the charm is ruined. Many people might ask, "What about the paper sports cars, mansions, and skyscrapers in the shops?" Well, that stumps me—the ancestors who passed down this craft didn't anticipate our modern flair, did they?

Wealthier families also burn paper cows or horses. This, too, has its logic. You’ve heard the phrase "to take up an official post"? People believe that when a man dies, he goes elsewhere to take up a post, so they burn a paper horse. As for why women are burned paper cows? There are two common beliefs: first, because women do so much housework—laundry, cooking, fetching water—they waste so much water that they might be punished for it in the afterlife; the cow helps them carry water to lighten the penalty. The second reason is to help them with their labor, as cows are considered intelligent animals.

Whether you believe it or not, these are the rules passed down by the older generation. There’s always some logic behind them, and it’s a trade that doesn't easily change.

Liu Jun was busy crafting a paper figure when the old man walked in, swaying from side to side—it was clear he was hungover. You might think this old coot is some enlightened master, but have you ever seen a swaying "enlightened master"?

"You little brat, you didn't go home last night. Did you see Mo Li? From now on, you'll be on night shift with her. Learn a few things from her, and just sleep here in the shop," the old man said drunkenly.

"Why? I didn't get a break, and now you want me to work 24 hours? Are you some kind of slave driver? I won't do it!" Liu Jun protested. The old man had said his surname was Li and his Taoist name was Qingfengzi. What was he thinking? 24 hours a day? Was he trying to kill him for money? Even if he could sleep in the shop, he wasn't having it.

"I'll add a thousand to your salary," the old man said calmly.

"No way." It wasn't about the money. Life is about balance; you can always make money later. As he refused, Liu Jun thought to himself, "Ancient scholars like Tao Yuanming wouldn't bow for five pecks of rice; today, I, Liu, will not work the night shift for a thousand bucks. How magnificent."

"Three thousand more!"

"It's not about the money."

"Four thousand! That’ll make it ten thousand a month," the old man said, squinting.

"You know, now that I think about it, it really isn't convenient for a pretty girl like Mo Li to stay in the shop alone at night. What if someone with bad intentions shows up? She's just a girl—it's too dangerous! I've decided: I will help with the night shift. Why are you looking at me like that, old man? It's not for the money! I'm doing this for Mo Li's safety. As a man, it's my duty to shoulder the burden. Sigh, in this society, there aren't many promising young men like me who think of others first." Liu Jun was starting to admire himself.

"Heh," the old man chuckled, speechless. This little brat was truly shameless. If he didn't add money, there was no fooling him. It was so hard to find an apprentice. The kid had no foundation, poor potential, and his character was even more questionable. If the lineage hadn't chosen him, the old man would never have considered taking such a piece of work as his student.