DF Chapter 88
by VolareThe phrase “bright as day” perfectly describes this moment.
Song Ji’an laboriously opened her eyes, glanced outside the window, and ultimately just lazily curled her lips, replying, “Four straight night shifts, Sister, could you please park the car before waking me up next time? Even an extra minute of sleep feels like a life extension.”
She rubbed her stinging eyes, but despite what she said, she had already begun rummaging through the bag at her feet for gloves, then slung her work bag over her shoulder.
As she finished this routine, her sister perfectly parked their hearse into the parking space.
“One minute isn’t enough to extend your life! You need a vacation to sleep for a solid twenty-four hours,”
The sister, named Cheng Fangyang, was wearing the funeral home uniform, and couldn’t help but poke Song Ji’an’s somewhat pale face as she turned to look at her.
“Look at your face, like you’re malnourished. How can a big boss be like this? Can you try to live like a human being?” she scolded.
Song Ji’an let her poke, stretched on the seat, and got out of the car with her work bag. She waited for Cheng Fangyang to walk beside her before replying, “With a total of four employees, is our funeral home really a big enterprise?”
“What’s wrong with four employees?” Cheng Fangyang said, exasperated. “Can’t you have some ambition! We’re going to become the biggest funeral home in Dongjiang Province!”
Song Ji’an chuckled and casually reminded her, “Last week, when Little Zhou was doing etiquette reception, she told the family ‘Welcome next time’ when she saw them out. They called to complain, cursing that we’ll go bankrupt sooner or later.”
Cheng Fangyang: …
She said sheepishly, “Isn’t that because Little Zhou used to do hotel etiquette reception? She hasn’t corrected the habit. Her Mandarin is so clear and articulate, and she’s good at acting. Every time she cries with the family, she’s so sincere. Most people give her good reviews, and she might even introduce us to customers. How can people not make mistakes at work?”
Song Ji’an continued, “The week before last, Little Wang and us went to the countryside to pick someone up. She insisted on showing us her driving skills, and we all flipped into a field, car and all. The local villagers had to rescue us. Later, their village secretary called me to recommend a good auto repair shop to help us change our tires, because she thought our car tires were uneven.”
Cheng Fangyang: …
She then said sheepishly, “That was a small mistake, and didn’t we all come out unharmed? We also found a reliable repair shop, which can save us money in the future. Didn’t you say after adding the boss on WeChat that they’d give us a 10% discount next time?”
As they were talking, they arrived at the hospital room door.
Today, they were picking up a little girl who died of brain cancer. She was twelve years old this year. She was diagnosed at eight, had been fighting cancer for four years. She just had surgery last year, and it was successful, but for some reason, the cancer cells spread again. She was rushed to the hospital last night and died on the operating table.
She came from a single-parent family; her parents were divorced, and she lived with her mother, depending on each other for survival.
Her mother was crying her eyes out at the door of the ward, holding her body, unwilling to let go. Cheng Fangyang and the nurse gently persuaded her, helping her to sit down at a table next to them. Song Ji’an unloaded her makeup bag and gently touched the little girl’s temperature.
It had been almost five hours since her death. Her body had stiffened to some extent, and her hand joints could no longer be bent, but she still seemed as if she had just fallen asleep, peacefully closing her eyes.
She was a very beautiful child.
Song Ji’an had been in this profession for two years. She had been running between hospitals and funeral homes since her junior year, but seeing the family’s deep pain still made her feel empathetic sadness.
Cheng Fangyang used to say that people who are too empathetic are not suitable for this line of work. Song Ji’an thinks she is right, but now the impact of these empathies on her is gradually diminishing.
She simply tidied up the little girl’s body and turned to ask her mother, “What’s her name?”
“Zhou Renyi,” Zhou’s mother wiped away her tears, “Ren with resilience, Yi with a sense of contentment.”
Song Ji’an tied a wristband on the little girl’s wrist, writing her name carefully.
Over the past two years, she has heard many names of the deceased. When their families reported them, some were filled with love and reluctance, while others were filled with hatred and disgust. Song Ji’an would carefully record them and gently put the wristbands marking their names on them.
Song Ji’an was then preparing to pick up Zhou Renyi, but Zhou’s mother said: “Let me hold her, let me, let me hold my daughter and walk this road.”
Her voice was almost choked with sobs. Even though she was in so much pain that she almost lost her strength, she still struggled to stand up, leaning over to hug the body that had been ravaged by illness into her arms.
Song Ji’an and Cheng Fangyang followed her behind, walking through the hospital’s circular corridor back to the car.
The encoffining process can mostly only be completed in the funeral home. Most people who die in hospitals contact the funeral home to pick up the body. Thanks to Song Ji’an’s friend, she reached a partial cooperation with the city hospital, and that’s how she got some opportunities.
Zhou’s mother sat silently in the back seat. Song Ji’an took out a bottle of water from the car refrigerator and handed it to her, patting her shoulder soothingly.
Wangfen Funeral Home is located in the suburbs of Jingjiang, and it is actually very large.
Song Ji’an bought the funeral home directly from the daughter of the previous owner. The previous owner was her teacher, and she had devoted her life to this funeral home. However, due to poor management, it had become insolvent when Song Ji’an started working at the funeral home, and it was basically on the verge of bankruptcy.
Her teacher passed away last year, and her daughter had no interest in running the funeral home, so she was preparing to sell the place. Song Ji’an simply took it over.
At that time, most of the employees had left, and only Cheng Fangyang, who was also a student of the teacher, remained.
At that time, Cheng Fangyang’s most frequent mantra was her teacher’s wish, constantly saying that she must carry forward the funeral home.
Song Ji’an was actually not very interested in this matter. The only reason she bought the funeral home was that she didn’t want her teacher’s last wish to be in vain, but it was really difficult to carry forward the funeral home.
What’s more, Song Ji’an has not had any ideas about doing business in the past few years, and most of the time the management rights of the funeral home have been given to Cheng Fangyang, and she will only solve the problems that Cheng Fangyang cannot solve.
However, Cheng Fangyang is very serious about personnel requirements. The funeral home was redecorated for a full six months. During these six months, she only hired two employees. The remaining site cleaning and park management were all outsourced.
After the group returned to the park, Song Ji’an took Zhou Renyi’s body into the preparation room. Little Zhou had been waiting at the door, taking Zhou’s mother to the VIP room to rest for a while, waiting for Song Ji’an to prepare everything.
The VIP room and the preparation room are interconnected, and there is a glass that allows you to see the movements of the undertaker on the other side, which is both respect and supervision.
Song Ji’an put on sterile clothing before entering the door, neatly tied up her long hair, and pushed the tool cart in.
Only her two exposed eyes could be seen, her white-gloved hands were carefully disinfecting, cleaning, and changing the little girl’s clothes before performing anti-corrosion treatment. Afterwards, she would stay in the funeral home’s cold room until the day before the memorial service when Song Ji’an would finally put makeup on her, so that she could maintain her appearance before her death.
In the past few years, she has handled too many such bodies. The entire process only took an hour and a half. Little Wang pushed the body towards the freezer. Little Zhou persuaded Zhou’s mother in the VIP room for a long time, and successfully smoothed out many of her pains. After discussing the specifications of the memorial service with them, Song Ji’an and Cheng Fangyang drove her home.
Zhou’s mother no longer had the energy to say farewell to them, and walked staggeringly into the neighborhood.
Song Ji’an lay on the car window, silent for a long time, until the other person’s figure could no longer be seen, she sat back in the car and said to Cheng Fangyang, “Sister, let’s go.”
Cheng Fangyang asked, “Are you going home tonight?”
The vehicle started, and there were flickering street lights hitting her face, and patches of light traced her face.
Song Ji’an put the seat down a bit, changed to a more comfortable position, and said lazily, “Yeah, can’t hold on any longer.”
She squinted her eyes and looked out the windshield, staring absently at the taillights of the cars driving on the road, the dazzling red color easily causing visual fatigue.
The body quickly falls into a state of sleep under excessive fatigue, but Song Ji’an’s spirit made it difficult for her to fall asleep. It was not as good as when she was sitting in the swaying car in the afternoon, when the warm sun shining on her face could lull her to sleep.
“I want to go to Fajin Temple this weekend to pray for wealth for our park, do you want to come with me?”
Song Ji’an laughed and teased, “How many people would have to die for our park to get rich? Which Bodhisattva would answer your prayers?”
Cheng Fangyang pouted, “Bodhisattvas have their own ways, anyway, I’ll give them incense money, so they have to take care of us.”
“Sister, I didn’t realize you were into coercive sales?” Song Ji’an transferred her five hundred and lay down again, “If you go, please pray for me too, just say Song Ji’an asks the Bodhisattva not to mind that Cheng Fangyang always does ridiculous things.”
What responded to her was her sister’s sudden brake. If she hadn’t had her seatbelt on, she probably would have been thrown forward.
“We’re here,” Cheng Fangyang said calmly.
When Song Ji’an turned her head, she was already putting on lipstick in the mirror. Clearly, Cheng Fangyang had another date tonight.
Cheng Fangyang’s private life has always been very open. Perhaps the pressure of reality is too great, so she chooses to relieve the pressure through romance. However, most of the other parties are girls who, like her, don’t seek stable relationships. They get together when they are compatible, and they separate when there are differences. They just enjoy pleasure.
Song Ji’an picked up her bag and got out of the car, waving goodbye to Cheng Fangyang, wishing her a wonderful evening.
She couldn’t help but smile and shake her head until the other person also stretched out her hand from the car and waved to her before she turned and went upstairs.
The corridor was extremely quiet. Song Ji’an found the key and opened her door.
The room was silent.
The lights turned on, illuminating a small living room. The floor was covered with thick, plush carpets. Song Ji’an took off her shoes at the door and simply lay down on the floor, sinking into the carpet.
This was a house she rented herself, a two-bedroom, two-living room, seventy square meters. It wasn’t big, but it was enough for her to live in alone. It was very close to the funeral home, only a twenty-minute drive.
She was really tired, and she didn’t want to move another step. When she looked up at the ceiling, she even felt a little dizzy.
But she still couldn’t sleep. She had been having trouble sleeping for a long time, but she was used to it. After a long time, she regained a little strength and got up from the ground, moved to the refrigerator, and took out a few cans of beer from inside.
She lived on the twenty-seventh floor, and there was a huge floor-to-ceiling window in the house. She had bought a rocking chair by the window, so she could lie in the chair at night and look at the night view.
After three cans of beer, drowsiness vaguely struck. Song Ji’an’s gaze overlooked from the twenty-seventh floor and gradually fell into a dream.