13 Mink Street

Chapter 10 Black Notebook

On the way there, the car held two VIPs;

On the way back, the car held two VIPs.

Although the funeral was somewhat simple, even sloppy, the sky was kind enough to rain when the cremation was over, which helped set the mood for Jeff and Mr. Mosang's farewell.

Karen looked at the urns in front of her. Sure enough, those urns in the basement couldn't be used to make pickles!

The ashes were hot right out of the cremation.

So sometimes, to save time, the family would bring the urns from the basement to the urn, and upon returning, they would replace them with urns bearing the family company's label.

Jeff's urn needed to go through the final process of placement in a cemetery in a welfare-listed area, but none of Mr. Mosang's children were willing to accept it.

A regular cemetery, even one that didn't offer burial, was expensive, so they preferred to pay the Inmerles family a bit extra to smooth things over so their father could "get" a welfare benefit.

So,

Essentially,

Jeff took advantage of Mr. Mosang's funeral and lay down for a bit;

And Mr. Mosang,

will also take advantage of Jeff's welfare checklist;

If nothing goes wrong, their urns will be placed in adjacent spaces in the welfare cemetery together.

That's fine too.

If they get lonely,

they can bang their skulls against each other's "wall."

Karen, still pondering the cost of the urn mentioned by Old Darcy, curiously asked Uncle Mason, who was driving:

"Uncle, what's the profit margin on our coffins?"

"Ordinary coffins are about double the profit, while custom-made or specially designed ones can be double or triple the profit.

Some people who were very respectable in their lifetimes, such as those working in the government, choose solemn and restrained coffins.

Those with noble titles and affluent families will have luxurious coffins custom-made according to their family traditions, often with the family crest engraved on them.

For the nouveau riche, it's much simpler; they prefer splendor and extravagance.

By the way, we have a special coffin catalog with over 200 designs. If you're interested, you can take a look at it when you get home.

Oh, the prices listed are generally five times the purchase cost. We offer discounts when we sell to customers."

Multiple profits,

Karen calculated.

That's not so bad, though. It's not as outrageous as the urns at Hughes Crematorium. They cost less than 50 and sell for 1,000, a twenty-fold profit!

Coincidentally,

Uncle Mason also opened up, bringing up the previous incident as an example:

"Don't think our profits aren't as outrageous as Hughes Crematorium's urns, but even if they multiplied their profits by that much, how much would each urn still sell for?

Our most basic coffin costs 10,000 rupees.

Also, our customer base is different from theirs. Our customers who end up cremating are... well, low-quality customers, but they're their primary customer base.

They cremate bodies there every day for a month, and we only need three normal orders to match their profits.

Of course, Mr. Mosan isn't a typical customer."

"Uncle, have you considered expanding?" Karen asked.

Mason shook his head and said, "My investment failed, so I used leverage. By the way, do you know what leverage is?"

"I do."

"Well, that's good to know. Anyway, I'm sorry to inform you, my poor nephew, that your grandfather's money—the portion of your future inheritance—has shrunk significantly because of your incompetent uncle."

After a pause,

Mason added:

"Don't be angry with me, uncle."

According to Ruilan tradition, the eldest son is generally responsible for inheriting the family business, while the younger son goes out to explore the world.

So, according to custom, Karen, as the eldest grandson of the eldest son, should be the future leader of the funeral society. Mason, at most, would receive a share of the money or shares, but no say.

"I don't blame you, uncle."

The previous "Karen" had always had a good impression of this uncle.

After spending more than half a month together, Karen discovered that while Mason was "lazy," "flirtatious," and greedy, and had many flaws, these flaws were common to everyone.

But most importantly, Mason had a very positive attitude toward life, family, and money.

He was the one most eager to make a comeback. Having once worked in financial investment in a big city, he was now reduced to driving a hearse, a life he clearly couldn't live up to.

And when Karen asked if he wanted to put the nearly 20,000 rubles in "consulting fees" into the company account, he refused without hesitation, clearly not someone who would take money from his nephew.

The only family members who were employed and eligible for dividends were him, his aunt, grandfather, and Aunt Winnie. After the 20,000 rubles were paid to the company, he and his aunt would receive half next month.

After all, earning this money didn't involve any operating costs... If Karen hadn't given old Darcy 1,000 rubles, the cost would have been nothing more than a small amount of spit.

"By the way, Karen, next time there's business, try communicating with the client. We'll see how it goes. If it's good, you can join the company as a family member and enjoy dividends."

"Okay, Uncle."

Working for Inmerles,

No,

Working for Dis,

is,

is my honor.

"Also, as for the expansion you mentioned, I don't think it's necessary right now. Even if we could get a bank loan, we wouldn't be able to compete with those chain stores on scale.

So, I think we need to improve our service quality and find new profit growth points, like you."

"Actually, can't Grandpa take on this job?" Karen asked.

Grandpa is a priest.

Mason said nonchalantly, "Hey, who's going to tell God the truth?"

At that moment,

there was a puddle ahead, and the wheel sank into it, causing a rather large jolt.

The car was fine, but the two urns collided with each other, making a thud, but fortunately, they weren't damaged.

Mason glanced back and

said:

"When I die, I'm not planning a funeral at all. Not to mention a coffin, I don't even want Mina and Lent to prepare an urn."

"Huh? Uncle, are you so open-minded?"

"Some things, after seeing them so often, become meaningless. When I'm old, as long as Mina and Lent are a little filial, I wouldn't mind if they used the black plastic bags they use to buy fish at the market to store my ashes."

"What should we do with the ashes?" Karen asked.

"That's easy. Find a large flowerpot, put it in it, add some soil, and plant anything you want. We can put it in the flowerbed."

When you're home, you can give me some water. When you're not, I'll just help you look after the house."

At this moment,

Ron, who had fallen asleep on the way home, had just been woken by the bumpy ride. Overhearing this conversation, he asked curiously:

"Mr. Mason, Master Karen, are you discussing such a heavy topic?"

"Ron, what are your plans for your funeral?"

Mason asked casually, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and lighting a cigarette with his lighter with the other.

"Hey, I must plan to spend my last 1 ruble before I die."

"What about your family?" Karen asked.

"After get off work tomorrow, I'm going to meet the nurse at the nursing home. If she doesn't end up with me, I probably won't have any family, let alone children."

"What about your funeral?"

"Family?" Ron patted his belly. "The funeral will be simple. I heard that Luojia Medical College accepts donated bodies from the public, and they even respectfully address the bodies as... what's the name?"

Karen said, "cadaver teacher."

"Yes, yes, Master Karen knows more. Hehe, before I die, I'll sign an agreement to donate myself and become a cadaver teacher."

Mason shook off the ash from his cigarette and laughed, "I can't tell, Ron, you've suddenly become so much more impressive in my eyes."

"Well, well..." Ron scratched his head. "I wasn't a good student growing up. I couldn't absorb textbook knowledge, so I dropped out early and found work. But I know that those who get into Luojia Medical College are all very good students.

I just think, in the future, I'll lie there like a dumb, poor student, with those excellent students standing beside me, bowing to me and calling me teacher. What a delightful and enjoyable thing that will be."

"Hahahaha." Mason burst into laughter.

Karen couldn't help but laugh too, but she still warned, "Then Ron, you need to lose some weight."

"Lose weight?" Ron asked, somewhat surprised. "Does being a cadaver teacher even have to meet certain body requirements?"

"Not really, but you know what? When they cut open your belly, your fat will just pile up there. And then those students will probably curse you under their breath as they slice through your fat, swallowing their nausea:

Oh, my God, why is my cadaver teacher so fat!"

Ron straightened his back and said, "Is it that terrible?"

Then,

Ron fell into deep thought about his own funeral.

Mason asked curiously, "Karen, how do you know all this?"

"Aunt Mary told me. You know, sometimes Aunt Mary handles bodies that have died in horrific circumstances, so she sometimes can't help but curse at the dinner table." "

Mason nodded in agreement, saying, "Yes, her temper is getting worse."

Then,

Mason sighed,

tapped the ash from his cigarette again,

said,

"It's all my fault."

...

It was already nine o'clock when they got home. After placing the urn in the basement, their work for the day was done.

There was a late-night snack left for dinner: mashed potatoes, bacon, and a vegetable salad.

Karen washed his hands and came over. Seeing the dinner, to be honest, he was a little disappointed. Especially since he had been out and back late today and was even hungrier than usual, he had been looking forward to a delicious and hearty meal.

But...

I'll make it myself next time.

"Honey, I opened a can of herrings for you." "

At the mention of "canned herrings," Uncle Mason immediately opened his arms, smiled, and kissed Aunt Mary several times in front of Karen.

"This is a truly blessed dinner! I love it, and I love you for preparing it for me, dear."

The day before yesterday, Uncle Mason had told Aunt Mary in the car that her homemade pie was the only thing he loved.

As for the other delicacy he'd been referring to, it was "canned herrings."

Karen blinked, a sudden sense of foreboding gripping him.

"Snap!" "

The can was gas-filled, and when it was opened, a muffled sound emanated from within.

Then,

the stench of rotting meat filled the air.

Karen's stomach cramped, rising to her throat, but she managed to suppress it.

Compared to this smell, stinky tofu was a fragrant little cutie with its own fragrance!

Uncle Mason forked a piece and put it in his mouth, chewing with a look of enjoyment.

Then,

without even asking Karen,

he forked a piece and placed it on the mashed potatoes in front of her:

"Eat it, Karen! In this family, you and I have always been the biggest fans of canned herrings—no, believers!"

Karen held her breath and looked at Mason. Mason forked another piece and shouted:

"Come on, eat our faith!" "

After saying that,

he once again brought it to his mouth, chewing it with great pleasure.

Karen looked embarrassed.

But,

Who called herself "Karen" actually liked this kind of food?

Besides,

for Karen, who had loved stinky tofu in her previous life, she vaguely suspected that this thing would be just like stinky tofu, smelling foul but tasting delicious.

Mustering up her courage,

Karen forked it and

thrust it into her mouth.

Instantly,

Wow!

Karen's eyes widened.

Unable to even swallow, she simply grabbed her napkin and spat it all out. Then, she immediately stood up, left the table, and went to the bathroom, where she began to vomit.

At the table,

Mason, who was sitting, and Mary, who was standing, were slightly startled.

"What's wrong with him?" Aunt Mary asked puzzledly.

Uncle Mason speculated, "The car had a leak and it rained on the way back. Maybe he caught a cold?" "

"Then I'll get him some medicine."

...

After vomiting,

Karen panted helplessly.

Turning his head, he saw Pu'er standing at the bathroom door. The cat was staring at him, and judging by the curve of its mouth, Karen felt like it was laughing at him.

"Are you laughing at me?"

Pu'er's expression remained unchanged, and his tail wagged.

At this moment, Aunt Mary's voice came from outside: "Karen, do you have a cold? I've got some medicine for you."

"Okay, Auntie, I'll come out later."

"And your midnight snack..."

No,

That damn midnight snack...

Karen didn't want to go back to that table. Now he didn't even want to go back upstairs!

The entire second floor must have been filled with the smell of canned herrings.

"Lent has a lot of snacks. I'll just have a little. My stomach isn't feeling well, so I shouldn't eat too much." "

"Okay then... take care of yourself. If you're still feeling unwell tomorrow morning, I'll take you to the clinic."

"Thank you, Auntie."

Aunt Mary turned and left.

Faintly,

Karen heard his aunt scolding his cousin, Lent:

"Lent, your teeth are so broken, and you still dare to hide snacks? Since you don't want your teeth anymore, I'll tear your mouth apart right now!"

In the bathroom, Karen felt a little sorry for his cousin, his heart filled with guilt towards his little cousin. Then he took a comfortable bath.

After the bath, Karen toweled his hair as he walked back to his bedroom.

On the bedroom desk lay milk, bread, a water cup, and pills.

Lent was sitting on the floor, sorting the boxes he had stored under the spring bed. When he heard Karen enter the room, he turned around and looked at Karen with a look of grievance:

"Brother, Mom took all the candy and chocolate I hid."

There was no resentment on his cousin's face, nor did he blame Karen, but there was a hint of helplessness.

"If I'd known, I shouldn't have been so frugal. I only ate one each night and devoured it."

"Haha."

Karen smiled and pulled a thousand rubles from his pocket. He hesitated, thinking it wasn't appropriate for a child to handle so much money. Finally, he pulled out three and handed them to Lent.

"Use them to buy candy. When you're done, ask your brother for more."

Lent didn't reach out to take them. Instead, he shook his head and said, "You can't spend your brother's money."

"Isn't it normal for a younger brother to spend his brother's money?"

"No, Mom says we have to take care of my brother because he doesn't have..." Lent quickly corrected himself. "Actually, I have pocket money too!"

Including Karen, there are four children in the family.

In theory, all four children receive the same monthly allowance, and this amount is included in the public allowance.

But because the cousins ​​all have their parents, their pocket money is kept by their aunt and uncle, leaving them with very little.

Karen, on the other hand, was left without parents, and his elders felt embarrassed to "hold" his pocket money, so they gave him the full amount every month. This was how he was able to save up six thousand rupees.

"Just brush your teeth every day and limit your sugar intake. You'll be fine."

Karen still placed three hundred rupees on Lente's bed. He also noticed a number of books and notebooks on Lente's bed, likely from his aunt's "search," as they should have been placed under the bed.

Among them was a notebook with a white rose on the cover, deliberately traced red with a red pen.

Karen casually opened it.

The first page had a drawing of three people: two adults and a child. Although the drawing was abstract, it was clear that the father was on the left, the mother on the right, and the child in the middle.

The child in the middle was clearly a boy because he didn't have long hair like the mother on the right, to indicate female characteristics.

"Your drawing is excellent," Karen said to Lente.

"Brother, this isn't my notebook."

"It's not yours?"

In this room, if it wasn't Lent's, then it could only be... "Karen's."

Karen pondered for a moment, unable to recall the notebook.

That was understandable, judging by the paper, it must be quite old.

Although he had inherited "Karen's" memories, he naturally couldn't remember things that Karen herself had forgotten.

"Lent, it's time to brush your teeth and get ready for bed!"

Auntie's voice called from the stairs.

Luckily, the Inmerles family lived in a single-family house. If they lived in an apartment, with Auntie's voice, she would surely have received complaints from the neighbors.

"Coming, Mom."

Lent ran out of the room.

Karen sat on Lent's spring bed, continuing to flip through the notebook.

The drawing on the second page was identical to the first: a couple with a child in the middle.

The third page, the same.

Karen's interest had faded somewhat, but when he turned to the fourth page, he frowned slightly.

The fourth page was completely black, with only a circle in the center remaining blank.

From a professional perspective, and analyzing it from the perspective of children's paintings,

this painting suggests that the child who created it was deeply insecure;

black is actually a protective color.

This compositional pattern conveys a feeling very similar to when, as a child, you were afraid of the dark, you would wrap yourself tightly in the blanket, but leave a gap to peek out or breathe in some fresh air.

Of course, the feeling conveyed by this painting was even more severe.

Karen continued to turn the pages. The next few pages showed similar images, except that the position of the blank circle varied slightly, sometimes appearing at the bottom, sometimes at the top, or even to the left or right.

After turning another page,

Karen's hand froze.

Because in this painting,

a man and a woman were drawn horizontally. Judging by the previous style, they should be "Dad" and "Mom."

The horizontal position suggests a reclining figure.

Because one figure was drawn vertically, it seemed they were standing.

In the painting, emanating from the abdomens of the "lying" "Dad" and "Mom," black masses emanated from their bodies, and a pool of black marker had also been smeared around them.

Karen swallowed hard.

Is this a wound... and the blood flowing from the ground?

And the standing figure...

was an adult figure not seen before, holding something in his hand.

Karen brought the notebook close to his eyes, examining the object carefully. Often, children's drawings can only be understood intuitively or guessed at.

"Is that a sword? Even if it's this sword, it's a little too short."

Suddenly,

Karen's mind flashed back to that day on the way back from the hospital, when he was cleaning the burnt skin off his grandfather's arm and saw the hilt of the sword in the black box...!

"Dis!"

"Yeah."