Transmigrierte Kaiserinnen (männlich und weiblich)

Kapitel 10

"He said it was a pretty girl who gave it to him. She lives in dormitory building number 14, and she's a very mischievous girl. Last night she played a prank on him, scaring him half to death. I think they're getting along really well; they stayed out until midnight before coming back..."

"So that's how it is." An Qiqi breathed a sigh of relief, then smiled wryly, as if to say, "I never thought this young Chinese man would steal the hearts of our Korean beauties in just a few days. We Chinese people need to be more self-reliant!"

"Haha, why are you suddenly making such a remark?"

"Oh, it's nothing." An Qiqi smiled again and asked, "Has Song Xiaomo ever done anything strange before?"

"No, why are you asking so many questions? Did he really do something wrong?" Park Eun-hee asked nervously.

An Qiqi didn't answer, but continued to ask, "Did he bring anything back last night?"

"It seems...it seems like there's a box, rectangular, it looks old, and it's about this big..." Park Eun-hee said, gesturing as she spoke.

"Could it fit a human head?" Xiao Nan teased from the side.

Park Eun-hee paused for a moment, then nodded and said, "It should be fine. It's rectangular, so it can fit two without any problem."

"Do you know what's inside?"

"I don't know. He said he was keeping it for a friend. He probably doesn't even know what's inside."

"I see!" An Qiqi fell silent. It seemed unlikely that Song Xiaomo was the perpetrator. Although he had the opportunity, He Zhiying had already told him about the date. In this city, should everyone who came home late be considered a suspect? The only suspicious thing was the box—what was hidden inside?

Chapter 47: The Ghost Doll Returns (47) ~ (53)

Just as An Qiqi was deep in thought, Xiao Nan came over from the balcony and said, "Team Leader Jin wants us to go back for a meeting."

“Alright, let’s go.” An Qiqi turned around and said to Park Eun-hee, “Eun-hee, I have to take my leave now. I’ll have to come back to see you next time. Please let us know if you have any clues.”

“Yes, I’ll be waiting for you two officers anytime,” Park Eun-hee said with a smile.

"Hehe, goodbye." An Qiqi opened the door and added, "When Song Xiaomo comes back, please tell him that I will definitely come back to challenge him."

"What are we sparring about?"

"Kung Fu." An Qiqi struck a pose with flair, then quickly left.

Leaving the dormitory building, An Qiqi climbed into the dilapidated Hyundai and skillfully started the engine. Xiao Nan, sitting in the passenger seat, sighed, "This trip was a waste; we didn't find a single clue."

"Don't be discouraged, the truth will come out sooner or later," An Qiqi said confidently.

Why don't we wait for that Chinese man to come back?

"It's unlikely that he's the murderer."

Why do you think so?

"First of all, Song Xiaomo has only been in South Korea for less than a month. What kind of relationship could he have with a female dormitory manager? What was his motive? Was it money or sex? Besides, would a clever and cunning killer leave such obvious clues for us? Going back at that time would have already put him on the suspect list. Would he be stupid enough to bring back evidence of his crime? He had no reason to take that risk."

“What you said makes a lot of sense, but that box…”

"Perhaps there's nothing inside. Since we have no clue, we can only speculate like searching for a needle in a haystack. Park Eun-hee said that he was keeping the box for someone else. If it really is what we're looking for, it's very likely that someone is trying to frame him. To be honest, I'm more interested in the real owner of that box."

"Why are you starting to speak up for that Chinese guy? Who knows, he might be your future rival in love!" Xiao Nan laughed.

"Get lost, what are you talking about? I'm just giving an objective analysis based on the facts. Song Xiaomo was with He Zhiying all night. He Zhiying told me that herself. That kid simply couldn't have had the time to commit the crime," An Qiqi said sternly.

“That’s not necessarily true. What if He Zhiying is lying? Could her testimony affect our judgment? From an investigative perspective, we should suspect everything, even our closest relatives.”

"Alright, let's stop arguing about this. I'll still investigate He Zhiying. You're right, we can't let appearances distract us from our investigation." An Qiqi stepped on the gas and sped off.

Xiao Nan stared out the window, her brows furrowed. An Qiqi drove with her left hand and dialed a number with her right.

"He Zhiying, it's me, An Qiqi."

"Is something the matter?"

Why was something missing from your last statement?

(16)

When He Zhiying received An Qiqi's call, she was walking with Song Xiaomo on the quiet and secluded Huiwen Street. It was an area teeming with antique shops, and occasionally a few street vendors could be seen setting up stalls along the roadside. However, there were hardly any customers. Song Xiaomo hadn't expected that Korea had places like this; it was very similar to antique markets in China.

"That box was left by a strange woman..." He Zhiying explained impatiently while holding her phone, but after a few words, she simply hung up the phone.

"What's wrong?" Song Xiaomo asked.

"That policeman, he's so annoying, he keeps asking you about that box. He suspects it contains some valuable artifacts!"

Song Xiaomo was stunned for a moment, then asked in surprise, "How did the police know about that box?"

"I don't know either." He Zhiying shook her head and asked in confusion, "Wasn't he working on that headless female corpse case recently? Why is he investigating cultural relics?"

"Forget it, let's ignore it." Song Xiaomo quickened his pace, thinking to himself that the box belonged to someone else, and he should return it to the owner first, no matter what. Therefore, he had to get this sorted out before the police arrived. He was a responsible person. But would the girl in white show up?

The two walked forward, their minds heavy with worry, on the antique blue floor. After a long while, He Zhiying broke the silence, lowering her voice to ask, "Xiao Mo, do you believe in ghosts?"

Song Xiaomo's heart skipped a beat. She shook her head and said, "Don't be silly. What you're doing is called 'feudal superstition' in our country. Scientifically speaking, ghosts don't exist, and they're not scary. Only inner demons are the scariest. You've been experiencing a lot of strange things lately, so don't let them control you."

“You know, my neighbor is the owner of the ghost dolls. Although she has been dead for more than two years, I always feel like she is wandering around me lately. I really don’t know what’s going on… Do you think the death of that female manager is related to her? And those ghost dolls.”

"Don't think about it anymore, the police will investigate. Her death might just be an accident, don't overthink it. Look at you, you've got dark circles under your eyes from staying up all night..."

"I haven't been able to eat or sleep properly for the past two days, and I'm plagued by nightmares every night. What I dreamed about last night actually came true. What's wrong with me?" He Zhiying's eyes revealed a childlike fear.

“It’s just a coincidence,” Song Xiaomo comforted her, though he himself found these strange occurrences unbelievable. For example, the things that appeared in the room opposite his, the mourning hall in the room next to He Zhiying's, the mental patient in room 519, the woman in white and her box, and that eerie teru teru bozu doll… all of these were inexplicable. All of this left him bewildered and uneasy.

"Sigh, that female manager was so pitiful. She died headless. Who could be so cruel!" He Zhiying sighed deeply.

"Maybe it's him!" Song Xiaomo couldn't help but exclaim. His mind was filled with the image of Li Zhengzhen, which instantly transformed into a demon. With ferocious and terrifying eyes, he brandished a sharp knife and viciously slashed at his own neck, the blood flowing from his neck staining a large patch of the floor red...

"Who is it?" He Zhiying noticed that his expression was a little strange.

"Oh, it's nothing." Song Xiaomo recovered her composure and changed the subject, "Since we're here on the antique street, let's take a good look around."

“Okay.” He Zhiying finally smiled.

Actually, Song Xiaomo was also very curious, because the box looked like an antique, and he really wanted to know how old it was and where it was made.

Next, the two visited several shops. Song Xiaomo found quite a few Chinese antiques there, including Shang Dynasty earthenware jars, Song Dynasty ceramics, and Ming and Qing Dynasty calligraphy and paintings. Although most of them were probably fakes, seeing treasures from his own country in a foreign land still left him feeling somewhat disappointed. He consulted several shop owners, repeatedly describing the shape of the box, but ultimately couldn't find any information. He was told that he had to bring the item to them for authentication. If you can't tell with the naked eye, how can you tell just by talking? Helpless, Song Xiaomo had no choice but to give up.

Before she knew it, it was past five in the afternoon. The sky was gradually darkening, and at this moment, a cold wind blew from the surrounding antique shops, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood, which reached Song Xiaomo's nose. It was a decaying smell, as if it had traveled through hundreds of years, coming from underground.

A chill ran through Song Xiaomo's body. He Zhiying was also shivering uncontrollably. After a while, she received another phone call, said a few words, and then hurriedly hung up.

“It was that same policeman who contacted me, wanting to invite me to dinner,” He Zhiying said.

"Oh, then you should go quickly."

He said, "If you're there, we'll go together."

"What am I supposed to do there?" Song Xiaomo's mind raced, and she immediately thought of the box. The police must be here for the box. What exactly are they suspecting?

Seeing Song Xiaomo hesitate, He Zhiying said, "If you don't want to go, then forget it. I'll go talk to him; maybe I can even get a Good Citizen Award!"

"Alright, then just say you didn't see me."

"By the way, what are you planning to do with that box?"

"Find the woman as soon as possible."

He Zhiying sighed softly and said, "I hope it didn't bring you bad luck."

The two chatted for a few more minutes before parting ways at an intersection.

Song Xiaomo wrapped his trench coat tighter and walked forward alone. After passing through several narrow paths, he arrived at an empty square. Strangely, there wasn't a single person in such a large square.

He noticed a large antique shop across the street, its rich sandalwood scent wafting from within. A bronze incense burner stood before the entrance, wisps of smoke curling from its top. The whole place had an eerie atmosphere, as if he were in another world. What shocked him most were the several teru teru bozu (Japanese teru bozu dolls) hanging from the eaves. He suddenly realized that these things were now an ever-present presence, impossible to shake off.

Is this a coincidence or an irresistible mystery?

Song Xiaomo was a little tired and leaned against a stone slab to rest for a while. The stone slab was very cold; after leaning against it for a few minutes, he felt his whole body turn icy. He got up, looked down carefully, and oh my god, it was a tombstone…

He dodged away as if electrocuted, suddenly feeling dizzy. He rubbed his forehead with his hand, wondering if this was some kind of ominous sign. Just then, a girl emerged from the antique shop, wearing a long white dress, her long hair obscuring half her face. Against the backdrop of the tombstone, she resembled a white ghost.

"Miss, who are you?" he asked boldly, noticing his voice trembling slightly.

“I’m the owner of this antique shop. Sir, is there anything I can help you with?” The girl looked at him with a strange expression.

Song Xiaomo looked up, composed herself, and gradually controlled her fear before entering the antique shop.

“Sir, your forehead looks a bit dark,” the girl suddenly said.

"Really? You mean I'm in big trouble? Misfortune is coming, and my life is in danger?" Song Xiaomo was a little angry, thinking to herself, this girl is so tactless.

"Have you been in contact with any dead people recently? Have you attended any funerals? Or have you seen anything unclean...?"

"No...no, what do you mean?" Song Xiaomo interrupted her impatiently. He tried to use anger to cover up his inner fear.

"I'm sorry, I was just joking," the girl smiled slightly and said, "Actually, this is just a physiological warning. High intracranial pressure, neurasthenia, poor cerebral circulation, or various abnormalities in the brain tissue can all manifest on the forehead. The most direct signs are a darkening of the forehead, coarsening of the skin, and dryness and dullness. So you should immediately rest and take care of yourself..."

"You really know a lot; you're quite a professional," Song Xiaomo said with a smile.

"Hehe, I forgot to tell you, I used to be a doctor, but I got tired of it, so I opened this antique shop..." the girl began to tell her story.

Song Xiaomo listened as she browsed around the counter. The antiques here were dazzling, including jade, coins, ceramics, utensils, calligraphy and paintings, and even Chinese bronzes and Tang tri-color pottery.

"Sir, you can tell me what kind of antiques you need. Most of what's displayed here are samples and fakes."

"Okay, let's take a look first." Song Xiaomo pretended to be an expert, examining a large vase and then picking up a magnifying glass from the counter to look at it casually.

"This is a blue and white porcelain from the early Ming Dynasty in China. You can see that the painting on it is done with large, straight brushstrokes, and the style is simple and unadorned. The cobalt blue used often seeps into the glaze where the color is rich, giving it an iron-brown hue..." the girl explained.

"Actually, I know all of this. I am Chinese."

"Really? I'm considered a foreigner here too. I'm from Japan," the girl said excitedly, handing over her business card with both hands.

Song Xiaomo took it and saw two lines of text written on it: Long Zexiuzi. Antique Shop Manager.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Song Xiaomo."

"I am also honored to meet Mr. Song. You can just call me Xiuzi."

The two exchanged a smile, already feeling like friends.

Song Xiaomo hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Why are you the only one in such a big store?"

Upon hearing this, Hideko's smile froze instantly. She looked at him calmly, remained silent for a long time, and then slowly said, "I used to have five employees here, but a few days ago, one of my older employees suddenly died, and then all the employees left."

"How did he die?" Song Xiaomo's heart suddenly jolted.

"The doctor diagnosed it as a sudden heart attack leading to death, a purely natural death. But others don't think so?"

"Why?"

“That old employee kept saying she’d seen a ghost the night before last. Then she suddenly died the next day. Look, she died right there… I was just about to put up a tombstone for her, but it hasn’t been transported to the cemetery yet, so I’ve left it there for now.” Xiuzi pointed to the spot where the tombstone was. Song Xiaomo had been leaning against it just over ten minutes ago.

At this moment, Song Xiaomo felt her breathing become rapid and her legs felt weak.