Her home was in Yuanshan Town, a small settlement under Lingcheng's jurisdiction.
A couple of years ago, when tourism boomed nationwide, Yuanshan had undergone a facelift—renovating and expanding several "ancient-style" commercial streets, rebranding itself as "Yuanshan Ancient Town."
Back then, getting home had meant multiple bus transfers. Now, she could simply take a tourist shuttle from the train station's transit hub straight to the town's visitor center.
Song Miaozhu wove through the bustling streets of the tourist district, heading north.
Her family's old house sat halfway up Xiaozhu Mountain, nestled at the northern edge of town. Beyond it lay the Yunwu Mountain Nature Reserve—a place perpetually shrouded in mist, where even locals dared not venture too deep.
The house overlooked terraced fields in front and a vast bamboo forest behind. From the courtyard gate, she used to have a clear view of the entire town below. The further north she walked, the shabbier the houses and roads became. Tourists thinned out, and familiar faces multiplied.
Two elderly women sat by the roadside, cracking sunflower seeds and eyeing her with loud whispers.
"She looks familiar, like the girl from the Anshou paper shop."
"Didn't Song girl go off to college? I remember she always had a boyish haircut!"
"Girls grow up and care about looks, don't they?"
...
Trying not to laugh, Song Miaozhu greeted them, "Granny Du, Granny Zhu—it's me!"
"Oh! It really is you!" Granny Du slapped her friend's leg hard, making Granny Zhu cry out in pain. "See? I told you I wasn't wrong! It's the Song girl from Anshou Paper Shop."
"Yes, yes, but go easy! My old bones can't handle your smacking!" Granny Zhu grumbled.
Granny Du nodded approvingly. "Good, good! The town's thriving these days—more young folks are coming back… Oh, you're back just in time! Everyone knows your family house isn't for sale, but someone came by the other day wanting to rent your shop space. Said they'd call you—something about opening a 'food scavenger hunt'…"
"It's called an 'escape room'!" Granny Zhu corrected.
"Food scavenger hunt!"
"Escape room!"
The two grannies bickered until they forgot about her entirely. Smiling helplessly, Song Miaozhu excused herself and continued toward home. The last time she'd been back was during Qingming Festival last year. Back then, the town hadn't been this lively.
She didn't expect that even her family's old shop, so tucked away locals often missed the alley, would now draw interest from potential renters. Her family's old house was her roots—she had never planned to sell it. The shop, however, was in a bad location and could only serve the local funeral business.
Originally, she had considered renting it out—or even selling it—but no one had been interested.
The person wanting to open an escape room had called her, but back then, she'd been troubled by dreams from her great-grandmother, who insisted she inherit the family shop and take the job seriously. How could she dare rent it out after that? So she refused.
Now, seeing the town so lively, she was honestly tempted to return home and inherit the ancestral business. But in this era where handmade paper offerings were no match for machine-printed ones, and burials were being replaced by mandatory cremation, the traditional funeral business had no future.
Back when her parents were still alive, the shop had already been declining. Even when her parents were alive, the shop had struggled. Last year, the town's last traditional shouyi (burial clothing) store had closed after Old Man Li passed away.
That shop had stood right beside Ansou Paper Shop.
Her family's shop was called Anshou, (安寿) meaning Peace and Longevity, yet no generation of her family had ever lived to a peaceful, long old age.
"Maybe rebranding and pivoting to something else would work?"
Something like paper craft decorations might appeal to tourists. She wasn't limited to just making paper figures for the dead.
More importantly, Yuanshan Town was truly peaceful.
Mountains and rivers, beautiful scenery.
With development, life in town had become convenient.
And most importantly, the tight-knit, kind-hearted community.
The Songs had been a single-line family for generations, and by her time, she was the only daughter left. Yet even after losing both parents in high school, no one had tried to seize her property. Instead, the town had supported her.
If not for needing to earn a living, she'd never have left.
Her lifelong dream? Make enough money to retire back here in peace.
A familiar fragrance snapped her from her thoughts. Looking up, she broke into a nostalgic smile. Behind white walls and black tiles on the mountain, the locust flowers in the courtyard had bloomed. The old locust tree had been there since her great-grandmother's time, along with the courtyard itself.
After the tourism boom, the town's old houses had all been repainted white. Now, however, the walls were once again marked with the traces of time. Her house had been empty for years, and the walls were more weathered than most.
The nearest neighbor was over 500 meters away.
The last stretch of the path home was almost overtaken by plants—clear evidence no one came by. Song Miaozhu found a stick by the roadside and began clearing the overgrowth as she climbed upward. She reached the gate, took out her key, and unlocked the brass lock.
The courtyard door creaked as she pushed it open. A year of absence had allowed grass to sprout between the cracks of the stone slabs in the yard.
"Looks like I'll be busy for a while again."
Ignoring the weeds for now, she set down her suitcase and climbed straight up the old locust tree. She needed to see if there really was a hidden hollow—and if it held a key, just as Great-Grandma had insisted in her dreams.
"I've climbed this tree a thousand times—there's no hollow!"
Yet in the dreams, Great-Grandma had yanked her ear, pointing at the tree and repeating:
"The shop key's there. Don't forget!"
"The shop key's already on my keychain with the house key," she muttered, scaling the trunk. "This dream logic makes no sense…"
She quickly climbed to the spot her great-grandmother had shown in the dream. Pulling away the twigs and leaves, her pupils contracted sharply.
"There really is one!"
There was a bowl-sized hollow there—like a tree hole—and inside it lay a small golden key. It was shinier and more exquisite than jewelry from Zhou Moufu at the mall—clearly valuable. It seemed out of place in this damp, leaf-covered hollow.
It looked freshly placed—not something hidden for decades.
"Recently put here…?"
By who? Her deceased great-grandmother?
Things were getting spooky.
Song Miaozhu's heart pounded, but she wasn't really afraid. After all, she came from a long line of funeral professionals—even if she didn't plan to follow in their footsteps, she'd been raised with courage.
She reached in and took out the golden key.