It's exactly the same as the one in Hecheng.

The ruckus of April Fool’s Day had just died down when Qingming Festival came rushing in.

The Galaxy Cemetery, usually so quiet you could hear leaves falling, was now packed shoulder to shoulder with people.

The air was thick with the heavy scent of incense, stinging the corners of one’s eyes.

Lin Mo weaved through the crowd, muttering to himself.

“I wonder if there are more ghosts here or living people right now.”

Lin Mo had come to the Galaxy Cemetery alone.

No one had said a word.

Anyway, Qingming was a public holiday.

Holding his ID, Lin Mo joined the queue to collect the ashes.

Because it was Qingming, many were lined up to pick up the remains of their ancestors for worship, while others were already at the cemetery’s altars, paying their respects.

Burning paper offerings was forbidden here, but incense was allowed, so the entire cemetery was shrouded in a haze of smoke.

The urns were placed in fixed spots, each labeled with a name and number.

Lin Mo patiently waited for a good twenty minutes before finally reaching the counter.

He handed over his documents to the attendant, a middle-aged man with a blank expression and drooping eyelids.

The man’s gaze lingered briefly on the two names on the ashes certificate, then glanced up to appraise Lin Mo. There was no reaction in his eyes, but his hand hesitated for a moment before retrieving the urn—his movements noticeably quicker than with the previous customers.

The urn felt slightly heavy in Lin Mo’s hands.

Inside were the ashes of his parents, together.

Lin Mo already knew from his past life that human bones were many; even after cremation, there was still a substantial amount of ash. Crematoriums only collected a portion of it to put into the urn.

Without lingering, Lin Mo tucked the urn under his arm and strode straight through the incense-filled worship area, leaving the cemetery behind.

He never intended to perform a ritual there before returning the ashes.

The Galaxy Cemetery only allowed urns to be stored for twenty years.

After that, you had to deal with the hassle of handling them again.

Better to just keep them at home.

Who would think that keeping their parents’ ashes at home would bring harm?

Those were the parents who raised you.

What about terrible parents?

Flush them down the toilet. Would anyone really keep ashes of such people to worship?

Back home, Lin Mo hurried downstairs again.

The market was buzzing with the festive spirit.

He made his way to the roast meat stall and ordered a whole roasted pork belly.

Then he went to the poultry vendor and asked for a live chicken, instructing the stall owner’s wife to kill it but not to gut it.

A worship chicken must remain intact.

Finally, he bought a carp fish.

Carrying his heavy bags, Lin Mo returned home and arranged the pre-folded paper ingots and spirit money neatly on the altar. The fruits were washed and set out.

He poured hot water over the chicken to keep the skin smooth and unbroken, so it would look presentable.

After all, the chicken was mainly for offering.

The carp was pan-fried until both sides turned golden brown.

All these offerings were things Lin Mo remembered his mother doing.

Though, in the end, it was all just about the ritual—the sense of ceremony.

Once everything was ready, Lin Mo lit three sticks of incense and watched the pale smoke curl upward.

Long ago, Lin Mo had tried to contact his parents using spirit-seeking techniques.

But every time, all he got in response was emptiness.

Either their souls had scattered to the winds, or they had moved on to reincarnation—he wasn’t sure.

Maybe, as the system said, they had truly been reborn somewhere else.

Actually, that time at Chu Ling’s house was the first time he had ever witnessed the scene of the soul returning on the seventh day after death.

Then, that day, he secretly went back to Chu Ling’s home again, watching as Chu Ling’s father slowly faded away.

The bottle of ox’s tears had been completely used up by the mother and daughter.

At that moment, he was thinking to himself—if only he had a bottle of ox’s tears back then, how much better that would have been.

But even a rebirth can’t choose its timing.

After burning the prepared joss paper, Lin Mo took out a small knife and sliced a snow pear, then cut a piece of roast meat.

“Come, come, eat this piece of roast meat—grow strong and healthy.”

This was what his mother used to do after the offerings—cutting a piece of roast meat for him to eat.

His father would also cut himself a big piece.

After tidying up, Lin Mo unusually started cooking at home.

He also casually turned on the stereo, playing Dao Lang, a singer his father used to like.

He didn’t quite understand why his father, a man from eastern Guangdong, would enjoy Dao Lang’s music.

He had asked once, and his father had said:

“You know this, Lin Mo? This is a man’s romance.”

“Isn’t a man’s romance supposed to be Li Zongsheng?”

On the dining table, there were three bowls, all filled with rice.

“Dad eats rice, Mom eats rice.”

Lin Mo called out once, then began eating on his own.

By the afternoon, the morning’s offerings had turned into dishes.

In this part of eastern Guangdong, it was just like this—offerings would be brought back home to eat.

Probably because wasting food was frowned upon.

Lin Mo didn’t waste a thing—he quietly finished all the food on the table.

After cleaning up, Lin Mo closed the door.

—System: Why is this chapter so sad?—

By the side of the Yangcheng Dongsha toll station.

A man wearing a fisherman's hat leaned against a car, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“The situation in Hecheng still hasn’t been resolved, and now they’re sending us here to Yangcheng? Isn’t that old Taoist supposed to be pretty powerful?”

The man inside the car looked to be in his twenties, appearing capable yet somewhat ordinary.

“Hecheng has already been assessed. That person is probably some kind of righteous messenger. As long as nothing similar happens again, we don’t need to investigate further.

But Chunzhenzi Taoist at Chunyang Temple is clearly more important.”

“I know, otherwise I wouldn’t have come.”

The man with the fisherman's hat flicked his cigarette butt away, stamping it twice before getting into the car and fastening his seatbelt.

The car drove steadily toward Chunyang Temple.

However, parking was difficult there, so after parking, they had to walk the rest of the way.

That day, Chunyang Temple happened to be closed.

The two didn’t bother calling ahead and simply climbed over the fence to get in.

Surprisingly, no one noticed their movements.

Once inside Chunyang Temple, two Taoists dressed in cyan robes approached them.

“Sorry, two guests, today Chunyang Temple is closed to the public. Please leave.”

“We are from the Yanhuang Awakening. The director sent us here to assist Taoist Chunzhenzi with an investigation.”

Hearing this, the two Taoists no longer stopped them.

“I see. Please follow me; the Patriarch is in the backyard.”

With that, one of them led the way.

Passing through the Chunyang Treasure Hall, the four arrived at a pavilion in the garden.

Chunzhenzi was still sitting in the same spot as before.

Yet the fisherman’s hat didn’t waste any words. He simply closed his eyes, opened his hands, and began sensing the surroundings.

After a moment, he opened his eyes in surprise.

“This isn’t right.”

The sharp-eyed man raised an eyebrow and looked over.

“What’s wrong?”

“This pattern, this feeling—it’s exactly the same as the one in Hecheng.”

The sharp-eyed man had already heard from the fisherman’s hat about what happened in Hecheng while they were still in the car.

“Are you sure it’s the same?”

“Yes, exactly the same. This thing is like a fingerprint or an iris scan—each one is unique.

So I can be certain that the person who showed up here is the same one who dealt with those three criminals back in Hecheng.”

At that moment, Chunzhenzi finally stood up.

“Looks like the Yanhuang Awakening really does produce exceptional talents.”

If Lin Mo were here, he would notice that Chunzhenzi actually looked much younger than before.

But those eyes remained clouded.