"Old Zhou!"

Old Mr. Zhou quickly closed the book he was holding. This was the only reading material he had brought from home and the edges were already curling from how many times he had turned the pages.

An old lady walked over and held her hand out to him, her countenance pleasant. "What interesting thing are you reading?"

Wrinkles made a person look aged but there was actually a type of wrinkles that could also make a person look gentle and kindly. Just like how some people were plump "in all the right places," this old lady had wrinkles in all the right spots. Time must have deliberated a long while before carefully carving a line on her face, hence every line was placed with meticulous care and she looked very heartwarming and pleasing to the eye.

Old Mr. Zhou hesitated for a while, then handed the book over, a little embarrassed.

The old lady looked at him with an expression that was a cross between displeasure and fondness. She took the book and opened it; it automatically fell open on a page that had a few close-up photos wedged there like a thick bookmark.

The photo was of a young boy around seven or eight years of age. He had stuffed his head into various weird-looking frames, and was baring his teeth and making faces at the camera.

"Is this your grandson?" The old lady sat down opposite him, her posture showing that she wanted to have a heart-to-heart talk with him.

This was where Old Mr. Zhou was staying. In the little room, everything was white in colour—the ceiling, bedsheets, floor tiles… even the clothes the people were wearing.

There was a drawing of a god on the wall, looking out of place. The pose might have been copied from some Buddha statue while the robes worn on the body looked like the white robes worn by westerners in ancient times and the head was topped with fashionable mermaid curls. The appearance was a harmonious mix of eastern and western styles. Who knew what exactly it was that this god was in charge of.

There were three single beds in one room. The extremely minimal amount of personal belongings were covered with a white cloth, revealing no signs of human life. At a glance, it looked like a mortuary.

"It's all right, everyone who has just arrived is like this too," the old lady said softly and slowly. She took Old Mr. Zhou's hand, her movement very natural. "I understand. These are all things that people think are very beautiful and hence, they are also things that we have to break free of. Just like drugs, you know that taking them into your body only causes you harm but it feels good, that's why those people lose themselves in them. But that's not real happiness. Think carefully, if you force yourself to live with them, can you really integrate into their family? Can you really be happy?"

Old Mr. Zhou was a little uncomfortable with her holding his hand but he also thought that they were already at this age where to be "uncomfortable" was to be unnecessarily fussy so he only smiled in embarrassment. "After all… after all…"

"After all, they're your family. But family can also bring you harm," the old lady said very reasonably. "Otherwise, you wouldn't come to our place here for help, would you?"

Old Mr. Zhou lowered his head.

The old lady's tone was meaningful and her words heartfelt. "You have already felt how illusionary familial relationships in the secular world are. You live with them under the same roof, yet you feel as though you have been excluded and that there is a glass wall between you and them. You can see them but not touch them. Why? It is because at our age, our time is nearly up, and we are starting to truly comprehend the matters of the secular world. But our children are still struggling in the dust of the mortal realm. Your mental state is starting to gradually break away from them. If you still can't bear to part with them and want to seek comfort from them, you' re deceiving yourself and others, and chasing an illusion!"

Old Mr. Zhou said in a small voice, "...I brought up these children since they were young."

"I know." The old lady patted the back of his hand like an angel. "I know how hard it is to break free of these things. Otherwise, you wouldn't need to come all the way to us from so far away, am I right? Come, let's go. It's activity time."

After saying that, she pulled Old Mr. Zhou into standing up. In a corner of the room, there was a bell that rang at fixed times, like the bells that signalled the start of classes at schools. At two o' clock sharp in the afternoon, it rang out with a pleasant piano tune. Elderly people like Old Mr. Zhou came out of their rooms, all of them wearing floaty white robes. From far, it looked like the scene of a mass corpse resurrection.

All these people had smiles on their faces. They greeted each other and even held hands. Linked together, they went downstairs in a sea of shining white.

From outside, the little building where they stayed looked like a place for agricultural tourism in some remote and desolate corner of the world. At the back was an area with abandoned fish ponds and in the front was wild land. Without a car, one would need to walk for around more than ten kilometers before reaching a small bus stop.

Second floor and upwards were rooms for staying. First floor was a large hall. All three meals in a day were taken there. It was like a large mass dining hall.

Right now, the large round tables were stood on their edges and leaned against a corner of the wall and the chairs arranged in a large circle. They had stir-fried green peppers for lunch and the smell of food was still thick in the air in the large hall, a rather nauseating assault on their olfactory senses.

The elderly people very quickly found a place to sit, like they were used to it. Old Mr. Zhou suddenly felt a need to use the washroom—old people's bladders were just that unreasonable; there was no sign at all just now but in just a moment, the urge to urinate was overwhelming.

But right then, an old man with white in his hair and beard who was wearing a black robe entered. Among these people of the same age who looked like human manifestations of toilet paper spirits, the black robe stood out like a crane among chickens.

The "toilet paper spirits" all greeted the black-robed man. "Advisor."

Old Mr. Zhou felt too embarrassed to move. He tried his best to pull up his belly, planning to hold it in for a while.

After the spiritual advisor entered, he first showed concern for each elderly person there, talking to each of them in turn. He was very expressive, as though each of these old people were the treasures of his heart and every little thing that happened to them was worth making a fuss over.

After fussing around the circle of people, the spiritual advisor sat down and began the ritual.

"My brothers and sisters," the spiritual advisor began his speech, his words pouring out like a torrent. "Among us, there are those who are wealthy and those who are destitute, those whose homes are filled with children and grandchildren and those who are widows or widowers without kin to rely on, those who are beleaguered by illnesses and those who are still considered healthy. We are all so different. But all of us, with all our differences, are gathered here today because we share a common point—we are people who are nearly at the end of the time we have.

"This is a lonely, solitary journey. In our early years, we had companions around us, our parents and siblings were there, but the further we walked, the lonelier we became and the number of people with us grew fewer and fewer. The smoke and dust of the mortal world have been thrown behind us. I know that there are those among you who are extremely lost, who can't find your own worth. When you were young, you were such a heroic person but in your old age, you don't even know where to start to get your grandchildren to like you.

"It's all right. Now, please… hold the hand of the person beside you tightly and look deeply into that person's eyes."

And so, everyone gathered in groups of two and followed the instructions to stare into each other's eyes in the large hall filled with the smell of green peppers.

They had to look at each other for at least a minute—at the side, someone was keeping time. Their eyes had to be sincere and they had to focus.

This action was actually awkward and funny, and a little mad. Most people could not hold it for even ten seconds before they broke down laughing, much less one minute.

But if the partner beside you was doing it very seriously, people like Old Mr. Zhou who was very good at reading people's faces and doubting themselves would feel too embarrassed to laugh. Not only that, they would also suspect that their own attitudes were improper and that they should try their best to imitate others.

Next to Old Mr. Zhou was none other than that old lady.

The old lady had very deep-set eyes. Even though her eyelids were drooping, she had taken good care of her eyes somehow and they weren't the least bit murky. At the start, Old Mr. Zhou was visibly discomfited but the old lady kept looking at him earnestly. Before he realised it, he was remembering his old spouse who had passed away.

All of a sudden, the old lady seemed to be recalling some sorrowful matter that she was grieved about. The corners of her mouth turned down a little and there was a glimmer of tears in her eyes.

When a person grew old, they would usually become melancholy and emotional. Other people's tears were like a magnet that could easily draw out the sorrowful matters suppressed deep in their own hearts.

When Old Mr. Zhou saw her tears, he recalled the time when his wife was gravely ill. She had tried hard to look at him from her sickbed. She could no longer speak and only her eyes were making an appeal. He understood her meaning. She was saying, I don't want any more medical treatment. It's too hard to endure. I can't be cured. If we continue the treatment, even the money for your coffin will be used up. Then, what will happen to you in the future?

In her life, she had said more than once that in the future, she didn't want to be stripped naked, have tubes going into her body all over and die at the hospital. But in the end, they had still made her endure so much pain and take her last breath at the hospital.

Family was like that. As long as the patient was still breathing, they would not be willing to give up trying to save them no matter what. It was as though if they didn't make themselves and the patient go through a round of torture, they were skipping an important ritual and could not be at ease.

But he had always felt that his wife blamed him.

Once she was gone, he had no home anymore. Even if he was in his own house, he had frequently felt like an old dog living under someone else's roof and relying on them.

Every day, it was only during mealtimes that his family members would sit down with him. Due to that, his every other word was about eating and his entire person seemed to have devolved into a tedious foodsack.

At the table, Beibei would always be talking on the phone, Dongsheng would be half paying attention to the news, and Han Zhou would be obsessed with his phone. Occasionally, when his parents saw that, they would take turns to rebuke him and tell him to "Put down your phone and eat properly" but they themselves treated eating a meal like it was a battle to be fought. Old Mr. Zhou could never find the right timing to bring up a conversation topic. Sometimes, he would carefully start a conversation but it seemed like no one understood what he said. Rarely would there be anyone responding to him. Sometimes, he would say something foolish and Beibei would heave a long sigh and say, "Dad, you're wrong," then launch into a long tirade to correct him, making him feel ashamed of himself. He would then not dare to speak anymore during the meal for fear of appearing foolish and only then would the subject be dropped.

They didn't want to hear him talk, so he could only pick up food and put in their bowls so that he would have a sense of existence. But doing so also made them angry.

Han Zhou would yell, "Grandpa, I don't eat this, why did you forget again?"

Beibei would directly cover her bowl. "Don't bother, just take care of yourself!"

These petty matters couldn't be mentioned to outsiders. If mentioned, others would laugh—Why, what year is it now, are you expecting to be treated like a retired emperor because of your age? The moment you open your mouth to admonish them, your whole family has to put down their chopsticks and sit with perfect posture?

Isn't that just asking for unnecessary trouble?

Hence, he could only turn all these into tears.

The one minute that had seemed so long unexpectedly went by in just a blink of the eye. Old Mr. Zhou roused and realised that he was not the only one there with reddened eyes.

Someone put their arm around his shoulders, someone patted his hand. It was as though they were all in the same boat and were comforting each other. Ever since his old spouse had passed away, it was the first time Old Mr. Zhou had found a sense of belonging in a crowd of people. For a moment, he was a little confused.

Right then, a few people entered the hall. They handed out water in disposable cups to the elderly people for them to drink.

People who had just cried would always feel awkward so naturally, they would use the excuse of lowering their heads to drink to ameliorate the situation. Hence, no one refused.

Because their hearts were discomfited, their mouths were also discomfited. Due to that, the faint odd taste in the water was overlooked by these elderly people whose tastebuds were no longer as sensitive as before.

But the moment Old Mr. Zhou saw the water, he wanted to go to the washroom even more. Even though he took the paper cup like everyone else, he only lowered his head and pursed his mouth, making the same action but not drinking.

The spiritual advisor saw that everyone was drinking and nodded in satisfaction. He asked them all to close their eyes and started to use a low, steady voice to talk about the "afterworld." The ideas were basically taken from the teachings of various major religions—a hammer from the east, a steel bar from the west, all grafted together without a care. It sounded mysterious and fantastical but when thought carefully, also seemed rather true. When wrapped in this line of thought, the contents seemed to become trustworthy.

The rough outline of what the spiritual advisor was saying was: After death, humans will enter a different world and will again have family. Their family in the mortal world were fake and temporary, and could be considered an obstruction. Only their family in the other world was real. A lot of elderly people may have plenty of grandchildren running around them but they still feel as alone and empty as ever; this was the reason why. Under the guidance of the advisor, they could sense for themselves their family in the other world. The reason why they are all gathered there is none other than to search for the place their soul could come home to rest.

The spiritual advisor's training and guidance was for ten days and the cost was 40,000 per person. Of course, even though the food was poor and scanty every day, the dining tables so bare that they didn't even have eggs, this was mainly for the sake of "cleansing one's body and heart, and returning to nature." Apparently, those unprepossessing vegetables on the dining tables were carefully cultivated "organic vegetables" and 40,000 was far from enough. The shortfall was covered by the spiritual advisor digging into his own pockets to subsidize them in the name of public welfare.

To prevent them from being disturbed by the outside world, mobile signals were blocked. After ten days, the spiritual advisor would send them home. Everyone would be given a red cap, a little flag and other travel memorabilia. They would be taught what to say to pretend they had been on a trip so that they could hoodwink their "fake family" and prevent society unrest.

The "family" they found in the training class would always be in contact with them and accompany them until the end of their lives, when they would then reunite in the other world.

As the spiritual advisor spoke on, all the elderly people felt like they were starting to float. The advisor's voice seemed to be echoing beside their ears, burning into their ear drums. For no reason, they felt relaxed and light-hearted, as though their souls were starting to leave their fleshly bodies.

But today, Old Mr. Zhou just couldn't get into that state. Maybe it was because of his full bladder; the mysterious happiness from the past two days didn't appear. He fidgeted in his seat, the advisor's words sounding long and boring to him. This guy had a very heavy accent, and his voice was also hoarse and croaky like a male duck.

Old Mr. Zhou endured for five minutes. When he could endure no longer, he opened his eyes a sliver and saw something terrifying…

Around him, all his companions had dazed smiles on their faces. Some of them had lost control of their facial muscles and their expressions were very odd, and there were some who were drooling from the corner of their mouths and even seemed to be completely unaware of it!

Old Mr. Zhou was so frightened he was covered in cold sweat. Even his need to urinate reduced a little.

The spiritual advisor's words were not going into his ears at all. With much effort, he endured until the end of the daily activity. Under the guidance of the employees, the white-clad elderly people stood up one by one, and just like the paper figures with linked hands that children cut out of paper in arts and crafts classes, they stood up in a daze and followed the employees.

The employee who had brought them water just now seemed to be shepherding zombies, sending this group of people to their rooms so that they could "take a nap" and restore their vitality.

Old Mr. Zhou blended in with the crowd, trembling with fear. He dredged up all his abilities to act and despite his posture being a little stiff, at least he didn't expose himself. He thought of how he had been just like them for the past two days—laying down to sleep for some unknown reason and waking up to find that one hour had passed. And even though he had slept, he hadn't felt very energised. The advisor had even said that it was normal, that their "souls" were "tired from their travels."

"Old Wu! Old Wu!" After pretending to lie down for a while, Old Mr. Zhou confirmed that there was no one around and carefully called out to his roommate in the bed next to his own.

Old Wu was a light sleeper. Old Mr. Zhou knew that he frequently could not sleep at night, even a person making too much noise when turning over in their sleep could wake him up. But today, even when he reached out to shake him, Old Wu still did not wake up. He slept like the dead.

A thought flashed past his mind. Old Mr. Zhou shivered—That cup of water!

There was something wrong with that cup of water!

"The third session." Yu Yan looked at the flier collected from the missing old people's homes. "Which is to say, there were similar cases before this. Why do we not know about it?"

A colleague spoke up, "The cases might have been more spread out or there might not have been enough of them, unlike this time when they're all concentrated together?"

Yu Yan's brows furrowed. Suddenly, he lifted his head abruptly. "Can we request to check the status of cases of missing old people in the entire city?"

Most reported cases of missing old people involved the elderly with declining mental faculties getting lost. The few out-of-the-norm cases were exceptionally eye-catching.

In the past, these cases had indeed been very few and were scattered throughout all the districts in the entire Yanning. The scale was not as large as the current cases. Furthermore, these elderly people who still had robust mental faculties typically lived alone. Some had disappeared for a long while before their family noticed but the cases were usually closed very quickly after they were reported because they turned out to be false alarms—the missing old people came back wearing red caps from a tour group. It turned out that they had just gone out to have fun without informing their family.

A police officer said doubtfully, "My grandma wanted to go on a trip but all the tour groups did not accept her. They either say that there are no suitable itineraries or they request for family members to accompany her… At the very least, they require the family to sign a form. Are there that many programs that accept old people above seventy years old?"