Notes on Achieving Divinity in the Mortal World

After collecting his package from the shelf, Chen Miao greeted the old gatekeeper at the east entrance and headed back.

On the way, he saw Old Wang, the cold storage attendant, hurrying toward the offices on the second floor of the service building. Something seemed to be up.

He probably wasn't going to resign. The cold storage attendant's job was fairly easy, after all, especially since business at the Tianmen Funeral Home had dropped sharply over the past year. Now there was even less to do.

Switching jobs wouldn't be worth it.

With that thought, Chen Miao continued farther into the funeral home.

Chen Miao worked at the Tianmen Funeral Home, one of two funeral homes in Tianmen County.

A year ago, the Tianmen Funeral Home had been the only funeral home in Tianmen County. Then the Fushou Funeral Center was built on the north side of town, ending its monopoly.

The Tianmen Funeral Home had been around for nearly ten years, and many people in Tianmen County knew it. But for a funeral home, being long-established wasn't entirely a good thing.

Age meant worn-out equipment, dated surroundings, and limited facilities.

The newly established Fushou Funeral Center, on the other hand, meant modernization, new equipment, and comprehensive facilities.

As a result, business at the Tianmen Funeral Home had plummeted over the past year, and its skilled employees had begun leaving too.

Among those Chen Miao knew about alone, a mortuary makeup artist with nearly twenty years on the job, a hearse driver with over a decade of experience, and a funeral ceremony coordinator with five years of experience had already resigned.

Of course, "resigned" was the Tianmen Funeral Home's dignified way of putting it. They could just as easily be said to have been poached.

Of those still holding their posts, almost everyone except Chen Miao had received an offer from the Fushou Funeral Center. More might leave before long.

As for why Chen Miao hadn't received one, it wasn't because funeral ceremony coordinators like him weren't in demand.

In the funeral industry, anyone whose job required certification was a scarce talent.

They hadn't tried recruiting Chen Miao because Tianmen Funeral Home was owned by Chen Miao's Elder Uncle. With Elder Uncle running the place, Fushou Funeral Center naturally couldn't be bothered to invite a rebuff.

Their judgment was sound, too.

Half the reason Chen Miao chose to study funeral services in college and become a funeral ceremony coordinator was his Elder Uncle's funeral home.

The other half was his grandfather.

Chen Miao had lost both parents as a child, and his grandmother had died early too. He had grown up living with his grandfather.

When Chen Miao started high school, he moved in with Elder Uncle because Tianmen County was some distance from their village, and cycling there wasn't safe.

But less than six months after leaving his grandfather, Chen Miao received terrible news: his grandfather had died!

He had gone back with Elder Uncle's family, only to develop a fever as soon as he entered the house. They sent him to a room to rest.

Drifting in and out of sleep, he lost count of how many times he woke. During one of those moments, he suddenly heard that his grandfather was about to be buried, so he forced himself up and went along.

Strangely enough, after watching his grandfather laid to rest, Chen Miao's fever broke.

From then on, Chen Miao felt a reverence for death, as well as... curiosity!

With those two influences, Chen Miao chose to major in funeral services after high school.

In that sense, he had joined the "family business."

Crossing the funeral home's plaza, Chen Miao reached the small office beside the main farewell hall.

Two people had originally worked there, but the other funeral ceremony coordinator had resigned, leaving the office entirely to him.

Riiip!

The shipping bag tore open, revealing the book inside.

When he saw the six large characters on its cover, confusion flickered in Chen Miao's eyes.

If he remembered correctly, the book he had bought was If Eyes Deceive You.

Yet the cover said Notes on Achieving Divinity in the Mortal World!

Had they sent the wrong book?

Chen Miao didn't contact the seller.

He had spotted a bargain posted in his classmates' group chat and snagged the book for 0.01 yuan. Even if they had sent the wrong one, was he really going to ask the shop owner for a refund?

Rolling up the shipping bag and tossing it into the bin, Chen Miao examined the book, which looked to be five or six hundred pages long.

The cover had little decoration, only six large silver characters. There wasn't even an author's name or a publisher.

That was strange.

Even pirated books included publisher information and the like. Chen Miao couldn't think of any explanation for a book with nothing but a title, other than someone printing it for fun.

He ran a hand over the cover and made a small sound of surprise.

"The cover material seems pretty good?"

He opened the book.

Chen Miao had expected the first page to contain a synopsis or an author biography, but it went straight into the main text.

At the top were only the words "Chapter 1," without a title summarizing its contents.

Curious about the book, Chen Miao read on.

It was written in the first person, fitting the "Notes" in its title.

"Old Wang, the funeral home's cold storage attendant, called me. He said he had something to do tonight and asked me to cover his shift, checking on the cold storage equipment sometime during the night."

That first paragraph alone caught Chen Miao's attention.

"Funeral home," "Old Wang," and "cold storage" were all familiar terms to him.

"Is this a story about a funeral home?"

Chen Miao continued reading.

"All I had to do was check how the equipment was running. It wasn't complicated, so I agreed to help Old Wang."

"In the early hours, I remembered Old Wang's request and took a flashlight to the cold storage room. The funeral home felt chilly at night."

"Soon, I entered the cold storage room... I died."

"Uh."

The turn the story took stunned Chen Miao, but that wasn't what left him speechless.

He flipped ahead a few pages, only to find that they were all blank.

The entire book seemed to contain nothing but that little bit of text on the first page!

"An unfinished draft? Did someone really just print this for fun?"

Chen Miao closed the book helplessly.

Bzz—bzz, bzz!

His phone rang.

He looked at the vibrating phone, then at the closed book in his hand.

For some reason, Chen Miao thought of the passage he had just read.

He picked up the phone, saw the caller ID, and laughed inwardly.

The call was from a clerk in the service building. After answering, Chen Miao learned that a client had been placed in cold storage, and her family would hold a memorial service in Yongning Hall three days later. He was to make the necessary arrangements.

After hanging up, Chen Miao tossed the book aside and turned on his computer to review the client's information.

[Name of deceased: Qian Xiaomei]

[Age: 28]

[Cause of death: Sudden death]

[Occupation: Beauty blogger]

After reading through the deceased's information, Chen Miao created a new document and began thinking about the opening remarks for the memorial service.

After several rounds of cuts and revisions, Chen Miao settled on a version:

"Qian Xiaomei once said, 'Live every day in the colors of the rainbow.' Today, as we stand here, looking at her bright eyes and fluttering skirt in the photograph, we finally understand—she truly did! Though fate cruelly pressed the pause button, the value of a life is never measured by its length..."

If the family wanted these materials later, he would have to give them copies.

Anything involving the deceased required care. Otherwise, the family's fists would teach Chen Miao a lesson.

When he first entered the profession, Elder Uncle had taken plenty of blows and abuse on his behalf because of his careless mistakes, so Chen Miao always treated this work seriously.

Bzz—bzz, bzz—

His phone vibrated again.

Chen Miao, who was correcting typos, frowned but still picked up the phone.

When he saw the caller ID, he froze for a moment.

"Hello, Brother Wang? What's up?"