Zhou Xuan walked into the inner chamber. Three Jingyi Beds were laid out, one of which was already occupied.
The bed on the far left was currently hosting a "guest." Lv Mingkun, with a lit cigarette pinched between his fingers, was pacing back and forth from the head of the bed to its foot and back again. His eyes, filled with a kind of wistful preoccupation, remained fixated on the guest's body.
Zhou Xuan, curious, asked, "Fifth Senior Brother, why haven't you started?"
During work, it was rare to see Lv Mingkun with such a lost expression.
Years of performing the art of sewing corpse purification—endless days and nights of labor—had already transformed him into a master of human anatomy, an emotionless Jingyi machine capable of completing even the most complex rituals with his eyes closed.
Even Yun Ziliang, well-versed and worldly, would often set aside his cards, delicacies, and newspapers to indulge in his favorite pastime: watching Lv Mingkun perform Jingyi on corpses.
