At the lunch table, in addition to Director Ye Shanqiu, there were Zhang Daqiang, who oversaw the funeral consultation office and business liaison department, and Su Li, the minister in charge of the Party affairs office and cremation workshop.

Su Li, who managed both Party affairs and the cremation workshop, looked surprised when Zhang Yuanching proactively shook his hand. "Minister Su, you're truly balancing Party building and production—promoting both simultaneously."

Su Li was taken aback. Most officials avoided him once they heard he was in charge of cremations. This young inspector, however, showed no such hesitation.

Ye Shanqiu's eyes flickered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Secretary Zhang, you look unfamiliar. Which department were you with before?" Zhang Daqiang, impressed by the young man, asked about his background.

Zhang Yuanching didn’t hide it—he’d come from the municipal Party committee office.

The three men exchanged glances, their expressions tinged with pity. The municipal Party committee office was the domain of the leadership’s inner circle. Even as a deputy section chief, serving there was worlds apart from being posted to the Civil Affairs Bureau.

And now, saddled with the stigma of being reassigned to the funeral parlor as a third-level section chief? His chances of advancement in officialdom were virtually nil. Who would entrust their secretary to someone fresh from a funeral parlor?

Seeing their silence, Zhang Yuanching merely smiled and raised his glass. "Come on, drink."

Ye Shanqiu and the others, amused by his forced cheer, clinked glasses with him. By the end of the meal, they were on familiar terms.

Su Li, drunk, slapped Zhang Yuanching’s shoulder. "Secretary Zhang, even though you’re here for research, you’re practically one of us. If you ever need help, just ask. I’ll make sure the cremation workshop runs smoothly for you."

Zhang Yuanching blinked. Help with what, exactly, in the cremation workshop?

Ye Shanqiu and the others burst out laughing, quickly apologizing for Su Li. "This guy used to be in sales—got complaints for his loose tongue so many times he ended up here managing cremations."

Su Li, drunk beyond control, promptly "went live," vomiting over the table edge.

Zhang Daqiang chuckled. "Can’t hold his liquor but drinks every day. If he doesn’t retire early, he’ll probably cremate himself. Though with all the alcohol in his system, he’ll save on fuel."

Zhang Yuanching was astonished. These men joked about anything.

Ye Shanqiu, however, raised a hand to silence them. "We all end up the same—two taels of liquor in a lifetime... all fellow travelers on the road to the underworld..."

The words were oddly profound. Rumor had it Ye Shanqiu even wrote eulogies for others—his literary skill was evidently sharp.

...

After the meal, Zhang Yuanching stepped outside alone for some air. Near the funeral parlor stretched fields, with a road under construction in the distance.

He wandered until he found a small, secluded artificial lake.

Lighting a cigarette, he watched the ripples dance in the breeze. For the first time that day, his mind settled.

Ye Shanqiu’s words lingered—he wasn’t wrong. But could life have no purpose? Precisely because time was fleeting, one had to strive for something.

Memories of Secretary Jin resurfaced: the years they’d spent together, grassroots work in the countryside, pushing for reform and transformation in Jiangbei City. That year had been the most fulfilling of his life. A shame Jin had died so young.

Lost in thought, Zhang Yuanching suddenly noticed a striking figure by the lake—a woman photographing the scenery. She wore a backpack, loose work pants, and a baseball cap, her camera held expertly in hand.

The midday heat had made her shed her jacket, tied around her waist, revealing a fitted tank top underneath. There was something about her—thirty-something poise with twenty-something vitality.

Her fair skin and confident posture transformed the landscape into something alive.

The watcher becomes the watched.

Zhang Yuanching found himself admiring her, stealing glances.

Clearly passionate about photography, she shot with professional precision, her movements fluid and graceful.

After a while, checking his watch, Zhang Yuanching turned to leave.

He’d barely taken a few steps when a scream pierced the air.

Spinning around, he saw the woman had fallen into the lake. The irregularly shaped waterbody was surrounded by thick mud—once trapped, it was nearly impossible to escape.

Having grown up in the countryside, Zhang Yuanching knew the danger. Seeing her already choking on water, he yanked off his jacket and dove in.

With effort, he hauled her to the surface—only for her to slip into unconsciousness.

Fearing water had entered her lungs, he tried to expel it but saw no improvement.

Without hesitation, he hoisted her over his shoulder and sprinted toward the funeral parlor’s parking lot.

By the time he reached the entrance, Su Li and Zhang Daqiang were standing there, chatting. Both froze at the sight of Zhang Yuanching carrying a person toward them.

"Secretary Zhang, what the hell—where are you taking her? Need paperwork for this?" Su Li stammered, bewildered.

Zhang Yuanching snapped, "She’s alive—I’m taking her to the hospital!"

Without another word, he flung open his car door, dumped her in the back seat, and sped off.

Driving, he muttered, This guy’s mouth would get him killed outside.

At the hospital, Zhang Yuanching rushed her to emergency. Thankfully, prompt treatment stabilized her—though she’d need to stay overnight.

He tossed her bag aside, paid the fees, and left without a word.

The cashier eyed him curiously. "Sir, your family keeps ending up in the ER?"

Zhang Yuanching shot her a withering look. "She’s not my family. I just helped a stranger in distress."

"Oh, right—I remember now. Yesterday, you saved an old lady. Her husband even asked about you, wanted to send a thank-you banner."

The cashier recalled his face from yesterday’s incident. The old lady’s husband, clearly someone of influence, had checked surveillance footage and insisted on finding the young man to express gratitude.

Zhang Yuanching waved it off. "No need. If they hear my workplace, they’ll think it’s bad luck."

He paid and left without leaving his name.

The last thing he needed was someone showing up at the funeral parlor with a banner reading "Heroic Rescue—Saved a Life." Hung above cremation equipment, it would be hilariously inappropriate.

Those who knew the truth would understand—he’d saved her outside. Those who didn’t? They might assume he’d pulled her from a furnace.

But Zhang Yuanching hadn’t gone far when a black Audi pulled up to the hospital entrance. The security guard, spotting the license plate ending in "006," immediately stepped aside. middle-aged man with a square face and commanding presence stepped out, followed by his driver.

They strode into the hospital—straight to the photography woman’s ward.

Coincidentally, the hospital director and department head were already rushing there, creating quite a commotion...

Translation Notes: Cultural Context:

Funeral parlor stigma: Highlights the deeply ingrained superstitions surrounding death in Chinese culture.

Bureaucratic humor: Su Li’s morbid jokes reflect how officials cope with grim work environments. Characterization:

Zhang Yuanching’s resilience: His quiet heroism contrasts with the cynicism around him.

Su Li’s irreverence: His inappropriate remarks underscore the dark humor officials use to deflect stress. Symbolism:

The artificial lake: Represents the murky waters of officialdom—deceptive and dangerous.

The woman’s fall: A turning point, pulling Zhang Yuanching back into civic engagement. Tone:

The shift from gallows humor to genuine heroism adds emotional depth.

The cliffhanger ending (the arrival of the influential couple) hints at future complications.

This passage balances dark satire with moments of humanity, reinforcing Zhang Yuanching’s moral compass amid a corrupt system. The sudden rescue scene injects urgency while foreshadowing new alliances—or conflicts.