Blutiger Handabdruck - Kapitel 17
"After you push the door open and see what's inside, what are your feelings?"
"Words cannot describe this day; it is the most important day of my life." Even two years later, Lei Yunshan on television was still incredibly excited.
Xu Haicheng's thoughts involuntarily drifted to the television.
The TV program was a series of interviews about the Mansi Cultural Festival, discussing the discovery and excavation of the ancient Mansi tomb, the significance of its seven chambers, the value of the various artifacts inside, and of course, the disappearance of shamanistic culture.
"Professor Lei, what's the story behind the self-destruction of the ancient tomb?"
On television, Lei Yunshan appeared deeply sorrowful, saying, "This is also the most regrettable thing in my life. I failed to prevent it from happening in the first place, thus allowing such a great masterpiece to be destroyed."
"Professor Lei, were you also in the tomb at the time, and were even trapped for three days due to the landslide?"
"Yes, to be honest, I really wanted to die in there. It would be an honor to be buried in this magnificent underground temple," Lei Yunshan said emotionally, his eyes glistening with tears. The audience was surprised, then moved, and burst into applause.
After the applause subsided slightly, the host offered a string of compliments and praises, then said, "Since the launch of our Mansi Cultural Festival interview program, it has been very popular with our viewers, who have been calling in to request a hotline. Now it's time for our hotline call; who will be the first to call in?"
Before the words were even finished, both telephones on the table beeped, and both the host and Lei Yunshan answered simultaneously. The host said, "Welcome, our friend, to the room..."
A cold voice interrupted her, "The Mansi people's philosophy of life and death is far more profound than you describe."
The host was stunned, but Lei Yunshan reacted quickly, saying, "That's true, we've only seen a small part of it."
"The soul is immortal, and life goes on forever. You have violated a noble soul, and you will be punished by the gods..."
The host snapped out of his daze and frantically signaled to the person next to him, finally getting the call cut off. Forcing a smile, the host said, "Actually, as everyone knows, our country has always prioritized the protection of cultural relics. For example, many imperial tombs are generally not to be excavated..." He glanced at Lei Yunshan beside him, noticing his pale face, sweat beading on his forehead, and purple lips, and immediately stopped speaking.
The TV screen flickered and went black, and the background noise was extremely loud for a moment.
"Someone come here..."
"Professor Lei, what's wrong...?"
...
A moment later, the screen lit up again, showing an elderly man and woman dancing a flamboyant grass skirt dance, with a voiceover: "No gifts this holiday season, only Brain Gold."
Xu Haicheng unconsciously sat up straight, shocked by what he saw on television.
"The Mansi people's philosophy of life and death is far more profound than you've described."
"The soul is immortal, and life goes on forever. You have violated a noble soul, and you will be punished by the gods..."
Although everyone knows that Nampo City is going to host the Mansi Cultural Festival, very few people actually understand what Mansi culture is, including Xu Haicheng. This man succinctly pointed out that the core of Mansi culture is the philosophy of life and death, and then concluded by stating that the Mansi people believe they are a divinely created people. Is he merely a fervent follower of Mansi culture, or is he a descendant of the Mansi people?
As Xu Haicheng was pondering, he heard the phone in the office outside ringing loudly. Someone answered and asked softly what was wrong. It was Pan Xiaolu; she was still there.
A knock came at the door a moment later. Pan Xiaolu opened it, her face a mixture of excitement and nervousness, and said, "There's been a murder on the city's TV station."
One TV?
Xu Haicheng looked at the television in front of him. Wasn't that TV channel 1? And he knew that the cultural festival interview program was being broadcast live.
The piercing sound of police sirens shattered the silence of the night.
The streets, bustling with traffic during the day, are gradually becoming deserted.
Section 34: Chapter Six, Part Three of the Abiding Calamity (5)
Xu Haicheng drove very fast, with the window slightly open. The wind blew against his face like ice water, but he enjoyed it. His mind was as clear as if it had just been washed with water, so he couldn't understand how Lei Yunshan, who had only turned pale when he heard the hotline call, could have been involved in an accident and called 112 instead of a murder case.
The city's public security bureau was very close to the city television station. Xu Haicheng and Pan Xiaolu arrived first, and the other colleagues followed one after another. As soon as they entered the television station building, a person in charge came out to lead the way. He was a middle-aged, short man who introduced himself as Mr. Feng, the producer of the Mansi Cultural Festival series of interview programs. Despite the cold weather, he was sweating and looked uneasy.
Producer Feng led Xu Haicheng and the others into a small dressing room on the third floor. The dressing room was small and easily visible. Standing at the door, they could see Professor Lei Yunshan, dressed in a black suit, slumped over the dressing table, cosmetics scattered all over the floor. The mirror on the dressing table reflected his face; his eyes were wide open, his face and lips were bluish-purple, his mouth was crooked, and his eyes were slanted. One hand was clutching his chest, and at first glance, he looked like he was having a heart attack.
Not far to the right of the dressing table is the window, which is half open, and the wind is making the curtains flutter.
The other two sides are walls, which are fairly clean.
There were shards of glass and a puddle of water near the entrance, which appeared to be caused by a water glass falling.
Xu Haicheng bypassed the shards of glass and the puddle of water, approached the dressing table, and examined it closely. The intense fear frozen in Professor Lei's eyes had not diminished even after his death; one could imagine the terror he felt in his final moments. The chest of his black suit was crumpled, and his fingers were bent into claws, the knuckles bony.
Xu Haicheng turned to Producer Feng and asked, "I was just watching your program. Did Professor Lei die because of a hotline call?"
Producer Feng shook his head and said, "No, Professor Lei only said he wasn't feeling well and would be fine after resting, but it turned out like this. He Qing said she saw a face flash by outside the window."
"Outside the window, outside this window?" Xu Haicheng asked, pointing to the window with some surprise. He remembered going up one floor of stairs, so this small dressing room should be on the second floor. Thinking this, he walked to the window and looked down. Sure enough, it was on the second floor, with no balcony, only a small windowsill protruding out. It was so narrow that a person couldn't even stand on it. Besides, the thin layer of dust on the windowsill was very evenly distributed.
This window faces the side of the TV station, so the main entrance of the TV station cannot be seen.
Not far away was the television station's perimeter wall, beyond which lay a deserted street and old-fashioned buildings on both sides, none of them tall, about six or seven stories. The streetlights along the street were dim and seemed to be dozing off, and further away were the city's bright neon lights. Most of the leaves on the plane trees along the roadside had fallen. A car quietly drove in, stopped, and two people got out. The car lights went out, footsteps drifted softly on the wind, a light came on at a door, followed by the sound of a door opening and the soft barking of a small dog.
It was a quiet alley, and there was nothing wrong with it.
Xu Haicheng turned his gaze from the distance to the outer wall of the TV station. It was inlaid with rectangular bricks, and there were no water pipes or other things to climb on, so it was almost certain that unless the person was Spider-Man, it was impossible for them to climb up the outer wall.
If, as He Qing said, a face flashed past the window, where did that face come from?
Where is He Qing?
"She was terrified in the dressing room next door."
Producer Feng led Xu Haicheng and Pan Xiaolu to the next room, explaining the purpose of each room as he went. The room to the right of the small dressing room was a storage room for props and other items, and it was usually locked. Directly opposite the small dressing room was a job-hunting area for a certain department, where several people were busy working.
To the left of the small dressing room was the host's dressing room, where He Qing sat with her back to the door, her body trembling slightly. A long-haired man bent down and gently patted her back, whispering words of comfort. A name tag hung from his neck, indicating he was also a TV station staff member.
"He Qing," Producer Feng called softly.