Chapter 132: Manicure
“I’m not actually here to identify a corpse,” Lin Huai said with a calm smile. “I’m here to help you deal with the bodies that you can’t keep here.”
She leaned slightly across the counter, testing the waters. “So, do you happen to have any troublesome corpses that are proving difficult to manage? If you do, just hand them over to me. I’ll take care of them for you.”
Xia Wan tilted her head. Inside the preservative jar, the floating pupil shrank slightly. “You came all by yourself?”
The nurse’s tone turned doubtful. “You probably can’t handle that troublesome one on your own. I’ll just notify Old Man Ren from the Funeral Home to come collect the body. You should follow the standard rules and stick to your regular trial tasks.”
Lin Huai spoke up without missing a beat: “Old Man Ren is my master, and I am his direct disciple! I can easily handle this alone—trust me, it won’t be an issue at all.”
She flashed a confident grin. “Besides, I’m well-acquainted with the crows over at the Cemetery, and I get along wonderfully with the Bone-Picking Child from the Mass Grave.”
Hearing her rattle off such high-level underworld connections, the eye suspended in the liquid drifted upward, its expression shifting from suspicion to genuine respect.
Seeing that her words were working, Lin Huai couldn’t resist dropping one more name: “And what’s more, Sister Hanba from the Crematorium and I are practically sworn sisters!”
However, the moment the name left her lips, Xia Wan’s face twisted into pure fury. Inside the glass jar, the eyeball glared with fierce indignation.
“Hmph! So you’re that red-haired witch’s precious little sister, are you? Then go run off to her! This station is officially closed to you!”
Lin Huai was taken aback. She had no idea that Xia Wan and Sister Hanba had bad blood. Sister Hanba had never mentioned a single word about this feud.
This is a disaster.
At this critical crossroads, Lin Huai reacted instantly. She reached into her inventory, pulled out ten pure Yin energy crystals, and placed them gently into Xia Wan’s hands.
“Sister Xia, sweet elder sister, gorgeous nurse sister… please don’t be mad! I misspoke just now! My relationship with Hanba is actually totally ordinary—we barely even talk!”
Hoping to appease the NPC the same way she had won over others before, Lin Huai also brought out a selection of beautiful designer dresses. Xia Wan swept the Yin crystals into her pocket, but she cast a disdainful look at the silk fabrics.
“Hospital regulations strictly forbid wearing anything other than official nurse uniforms,” she scoffed.
Lin Huai thought quickly. Digging deeper into her vast stockpiles, she began placing various luxury trinkets, cosmetics, and accessories on the counter. Under the mountain of daily comforts, she finally hit the jackpot.
Xia Wan’s pale fingers suddenly paused. She picked up an elaborate, crystal-studded set of press-on nails. Inside the glass jar, the preserved eye widened with visible delight. She was completely captivated.
Lin Huai suddenly remembered a passing comment Sister Hanba had once made: among all the female realm attendants, Xia Wan was universally considered the most stunning. It turned out these supernatural women were all deeply obsessed with beauty! Could their bitter feud simply be a petty rivalry over who looked prettiest?
Realizing she had cracked the code, Lin Huai wasted no time. She opened her interface, urgently pinging the young heiress to send over every spare set of premium press-on nails from their trade stock, immediately presenting the collection to Xia Wan.
Lin Huai even thoughtfully took out special adhesive glue and personally began applying the jeweled tips to the nurse’s fingers. “Sister Xia Wan, your fingers are so slender, delicate, and fair—truly gorgeous. These sparkling, studded designs suit your hands perfectly.”
As she pressed the final tip into place, Lin Huai asked gently, “Will wearing these interfere with your daily hospital duties?”
A radiant smile touched Xia Wan’s pale lips. She held up her newly adorned hand, turning it toward the jar so the floating eye could admire the sparkling stones. “No, not at all! I’m only responsible for guarding the basement vaults anyway. I don’t handle the messy suturing or the cosmetic preservation of the corpses.”
She paused, turning back toward Lin Huai. “Oh, right! Aren’t you an Undertaker? That means you can handle suturing and cosmetic reconstruction, right? Perfect—this task is all yours! Since you’re Old Man Ren’s direct apprentice, once you finish piecing the body back together and verifying its identity, you can take it straight to him.”
Xia Wan continued turning her fingers in the light, falling deeper in love with the sparkling stones. She let out a dreamy sigh: “I’ve finally fulfilled my lifelong manicure dream! Back when I was working in the mortal world, the hospital had strict hygiene rules banning all nail polish and fake nails. Then I died without ever getting to wear a single set… It’s been my biggest regret as a ghost.”
The eye in the jar bobbed toward Lin Huai, its gaze softening completely. “What’s your name? If we become close sisters, could you bring me more nail sets like these in the future?”
Lin Huai didn’t hesitate for a single second. She nodded firmly: “Of course! Sister Xia Wan, whenever you want a new style, just say the word. I, Bone Ashes Mixed with Rice, will track it down for you—even if I have to raid a boss camp to get it!”
Xia Wan burst into sweet, silvery laughter, sounding like wind chimes in the breeze. “Then it’s a promise, alright? From now on, should I call you Little Bone?”
Lin Huai grinned. “Just call me Fanfan. All my closest companions call me Fanfan.”
“I’ll keep a sharp eye out from now on,” Lin Huai promised. “If I find professional manicure kits, UV lamps, and gel polishes, I’ll personally come down and do a complete salon treatment for you, Sister Xia.”
The two chatted about beauty trends for quite a while. In the end, mindful of her mission timeline, Lin Huai gently brought the conversation back on track: “By the way, Sister Xia Wan, where is that troublesome corpse you mentioned earlier? I’ll prepare it and deliver it to the Funeral Home.”
Xia Wan stepped out from behind the counter, gesturing for Lin Huai to follow her back toward the elevator shaft.
“Follow me. That particular body is locked away on the ninth basement floor.”
The lift groaned to a stop, and the heavy metal doors slid apart. A blast of frigid air rushed out to meet them, far colder than the lobby above and heavily tainted with industrial disinfectant and a stale, sickening rot.
The lighting on the lowest level was nearly nonexistent, lit only by a few emergency backup lanterns casting a sickly green glow over the concrete walls. At the far end of the damp corridor stood a pair of massive, reinforced iron doors.
These were the vault gates of the deep morgue, bolted shut with three heavy locking mechanisms. They served to trap the unnatural cold inside—and to prevent the volatile corpses from escaping into the upper levels.
Xia Wan stepped forward, raising the glass jar in her hands. A thin green scanning beam washed over the floating eye. With a heavy mechanical click, the first lock disengaged.
Next, she reached into the pocket of her nurse uniform, pulled out a tarnished brass key, and unlocked the second mechanism.
The final latch was tied to a biometric scanner, which released the moment Xia Wan pressed her thumb to the glass.
With all three locks cleared, the reinforced vault doors slowly creaked open. A thick wave of white, sub-zero frost billowed out into the hallway. Standing at the threshold, the arctic vapor coated Xia Wan’s hair and lashes in pale frost crystals, making her already bloodless complexion appear even more ghostly.
She looked back over her shoulder, waving for Lin Huai. “Come inside. As long as you can confirm the deceased’s identity and restore their missing limbs, the body is yours to take.”
Lin Huai hurriedly pulled on two extra thermal layers and wrapped a thick winter jacket around herself before following Xia Wan past the doors.
The cold storage on the ninth floor was bone-piercingly cold—far more freezing than the blizzards howling along the surface highway. After barely a minute inside, Lin Huai felt her ears turning numb, and her exposed skin stung with bitter, sharp pain.
She quickly pulled on a warm fleece cap, secured a thermal face mask over her nose and mouth, and slid on heavy insulated gloves.
Xia Wan led her across the frosted concrete floor, stopping before a massive bank of stainless steel lockers lining the far wall. The metal framework was completely encrusted with thick rime, emitting a low, rhythmic hum that sounded exceptionally loud in the dead silence.
The wall was divided into dozens of narrow, rectangular sliding compartments.
Inside the jar, the floating eye drifted to the side, locking onto a drawer marked with the stencil 09-13.
“This is the one,” Xia Wan said, her tone hushed. “It’s extraordinarily stubborn. We contacted Old Man Ren ages ago asking him to clear it out, but he refused to show his face.”
Lin Huai suspected nothing amiss. Stepping forward, she gripped the frosted metal latch and firmly pulled drawer 09-13 out into the room.
