Horrorgeschichten, die in einer verlassenen Wohnung spielen

Kapitel 16

These people were mostly older than me, and if they walked outside, they would look no different from ordinary citizens. Even though I knew it was an underground cult gathering here, it didn't feel particularly "evil" to me. At most, it felt like I was being overly enthusiastic by someone I was meeting for the first time, making it seem a bit like I had stumbled upon a pyramid scheme conference.

The lecture hall was already packed, with many chairs stacked in the corner. They took me to move two chairs and put them in the last row. People kept coming in. They said it would start at seven o'clock, but when the time came, there was still no movement.

By 7:10, the room was packed with one or two hundred people. Those who came later couldn't even find chairs and had to stand. A middle-aged woman, still quite attractive, took the lead and went to the stage to say some welcoming words. I looked around at the people and noticed that most of them were obviously not first-timers. They smiled and listened attentively to the speaker, while a few looked reserved and somewhat at a loss.

In the blink of an eye, the host introduced a speaker and then left the stage. The speaker was a rather plump man, and his words, to my ears, clearly contained considerable skill and intent.

He started by telling a joke to lighten the mood. People tend to lower their guard after a laugh. Then he emphasized that this wasn't a pyramid scheme; they wouldn't sell anyone any products or collect money under any pretext. It was simply a place where everyone strives for good, and the biggest concern was being scammed. This further reassured the newcomers. At the same time, I was certain this was a gathering specifically designed to recruit new members. Eloquent people were used to disarm potential recruits and pique their curiosity. Since this "Saintess Society" mostly recruited people who had experienced setbacks in real life, they were easily lured in.

The fat man spoke on stage for over half an hour; he was a decent speaker, very good at engaging the audience. One joke after another, the characters in the jokes were all ordinary people in life. Hearing them get tricked and humiliated made the audience laugh and unconsciously reflect on their own experiences. A thought struck me—this was somewhat like a Buddhist story.

However, the fat man didn't reveal any substantial information related to the Holy Maiden Cult. I was wondering what he was setting the stage for when, sure enough, he began introducing the next "master" who was about to appear.

The fat man showered him with compliments, saying things like "thoughtful," "wise," and "able to help people escape the misery of life and find the motivation to keep going," and so on.

When this "master," who was said to be "extremely rare to invite" and surrounded by countless halos, walked out from backstage and stood before everyone with a smile, I suddenly rubbed my eyes. Upon closer inspection, I was taken aback, followed by a surge of joy.

It was actually this person!

Chapter Thirteen Miracles

It is Xue Ying.

The person who was solemnly introduced was clearly a big shot in the Holy Maiden Cult. She was Xue Ying, the caregiver from the First Maternity and Infant Hospital who got along well with Zhou Qianqian and still went to Datang Village to have secret contact with Zhou Qianqian after Huang Zhi was discharged from the hospital.

The portly director wasn't lying to me; this Holy Maiden Cult really is connected to the case of Huang Zhi's murder. Seeing Xue Ying and thinking of the missing Zhou Qianqian, I couldn't help but make some connections to the cult's name.

Xue Ying spoke eloquently on stage, displaying a truly different demeanor and presence. After the fat man's earnest preparation, Xue Ying began to talk about faith.

"I know that many of you in the audience today have just experienced setbacks, but who hasn't experienced setbacks in life? The difference is just that you have just experienced setbacks, or you have experienced setbacks before, or you will experience setbacks in the future. Look, no matter how painful it is for you, it is actually such an ordinary thing."

Xue Ying's voice was deep and slightly hoarse. She may have said these words many times, but now it really sounded convincing.

Why does something so ordinary cause us so much pain? It's because we care too much about certain things; because we care, we get hurt. But are those things really that important? Think about what we were before we were born, and what we will be after we die. In the short span of a few decades, what truly matters?

"What truly touches the heart is only emotion. One's own feelings for oneself, one's own feelings for others, and the feelings others have for each other. Everything else is empty. Isn't that so? A collector of rare stones finds a stone in the Gobi Desert that is insignificant to others but is something he has always dreamed of; a child discovers a beautiful and unique seashell on the beach; a gold prospector finds pure gold in a stream. Aren't their feelings in that instant remarkably similar? And whether it is the stone, the seashell, or the gold that evokes such emotions is not important."

"Therefore, most things in this world, or even everything, are insignificant and illusory. Only the inner spirit within oneself is real. Once you understand this, the storms and trials you encounter in life will not be able to defeat you."

Xue Ying spoke eloquently, but a growing sense of unease crept into my heart. What she was saying was increasingly resembling the idealistic, illusory worldview of idealism. This implied that the doctrines of the Holy Maiden Cult also leaned towards idealism. But this didn't fit the typical pattern of cult worship. Generally, cults involve personality cults, and their doctrines are typically enthusiastic and fanatical. Idealism, on the other hand, is as negative as it gets. She hadn't mentioned anything about the "Holy Maiden" after all this time. How could such a cult unite its followers? If it can't generate cohesion among its members, whether it's a legitimate or cult, it's destined for rapid decline.

"I have many friends around me, and we have our own views on life and the world. These views enable us to walk bravely on the path of life, unafraid of any storms. We have a name in this small circle, and that name is 'Saintess'. Why 'Saintess'? I'll keep you in suspense for now. If you feel this is a harmonious and loving environment and are willing to come again next time, you will find out. The biggest problem for Chinese people now is the lack of faith. Fortunately, we now have our own firm faith, and I sincerely hope you can join us."

Xue Ying concluded her speech, or rather, her sermon, with these words. But the gathering did not end there. The audience formed small circles, sharing what they had learned that day, and even encouraging the newcomers to speak about their recent setbacks in order to "relax."

Yuan Ji pulled me into a circle of about twenty people, and then they took turns speaking. Not long after, Xue Ying also appeared. She seemed to have just come to listen, but she was immediately pulled aside by the older believers and asked to give a final speech later.

When it was my turn, I recounted the fabricated story of my failed relationship, earning comforting glances from everyone. Inevitably, I briefly mentioned my background, and I truthfully stated that I was a journalist. As I mentioned this profession, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Xue Ying's expression flickered slightly, and Yuan Ji also seemed somewhat surprised. He asked what I did, but I gave a vague answer.

When it was her turn to speak, she simply reiterated what she had said on stage, adding a few more points based on what the people in this small circle had said. After she finished, everyone applauded enthusiastically, and then she left.

By this time, most of the groups had ended. Yuan Ji exchanged a few pleasantries with me and prepared to leave. Just then, someone ran over and whispered a few words in his ear. He then asked me to wait a moment and ran to another corner of the classroom.

I looked in that direction and saw that it was Xue Ying waiting for him.

Xue Ying spoke a few words to him, and when she noticed me watching them, she nodded slightly to me.

Did my identity as a journalist make Xue Ying wary? I had originally intended to mention a less sensitive profession, but after seeing Xue Ying, I changed my mind. She might have seen me three years ago when I interviewed at the First Maternity and Infant Hospital. If she has a good memory, making up a false identity would backfire.

When Yuan Ji returned, he didn't say much, which made me feel uneasy.

Stepping out of the teaching building, the night breeze was noticeably richer in oxygen than inside the lecture hall. Yuan Ji and I walked together, across the playground, toward the school gate.

"So, how was your overall impression tonight?"

"The atmosphere was pretty good, but it felt a little strange, probably because I've never attended a gathering like this before." As a journalist, I always have to be sensitive to this, otherwise it would seem too fake.

"Participate a few more times, and you'll gradually integrate. Actually, we are a church organization, and we all share the same faith."

"Huh?" I didn't expect Yuan Ji to reveal his hand so quickly.

“Don’t worry. We’re not some kind of cult,” Yuan Ji quickly said. “Normally, you would have found out after a few more visits, but Master Xue just told me to tell you directly, without hiding anything. People in your line of work are well-informed and knowledgeable; you’ll soon be able to see whether our beliefs are genuine or not.”

Was she afraid I'd see through her act, so she decided to be blunt? Perhaps Xue Ying thought that recruiting a journalist as a believer would serve as a good example. But the question is, how could she guarantee I'd "believe"?

"Praise be to you, Heavenly Venerable, the one and only God." Yuan Ji stopped at the edge of the playground and murmured a phrase. It was like a spell, and in an instant, his expression became extremely devout. "You will also believe in the Heavenly Venerable. This is not just empty talk. You will see the truth of this world."

"The truth? What truth?" I muttered to myself, thinking that the name "Celestial Venerable" was really unoriginal.

A mysterious smile appeared on Yuan Ji's lips: "Originally, some things could only be known by true believers like myself. However, no amount of talk can compare to seeing it with your own eyes. Tomorrow at 1:30 PM, there will be a trial by the police at the X Intermediate People's Court. Although it is public, it will not be fair. One of our believers will be on trial. No matter what the laws of this world say, God will declare him innocent. You must go; you will witness a miracle."

Every religion, at its inception, is accompanied by numerous miracles. For example, Jesus Christ fed five thousand people with five loaves of bread and two fish, and the Buddha's prophecy of his own death caused a great earthquake. Through these inexplicable and miraculous events, they gathered countless believers and ensured the spread of their doctrines.

The Church of Saints is also going to perform a miracle, and in a courtroom—a place that sounds like a difficult place to cheat. What kind of miracle will this be?

etc.

An unjust trial? An innocent believer?

I immediately took out my phone and dialed Detective Wang's number.

"You said last time that Lü Wanqiang would have a public trial. Has the date been set? Is it tomorrow?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"At court tomorrow afternoon?"

"That's right, do you want to go over and listen?"

"Oh my God..."

It should have been a sweltering afternoon, but half an hour ago, thick clouds blocked out the sun, and the air grew increasingly stuffy. A downpour seemed imminent.

The Shanghai No. X Intermediate People's Court building is magnificent and imposing, standing there like an obelisk, visible from afar. Only upon reaching the entrance do you realize that you actually have to cross a wide plaza and then climb a long flight of stairs to enter. Anyone with a guilty conscience would likely feel uneasy ascending the steps of this solemn white building.

But what caught my attention at that moment were the two police cars and the police motorcycle parked in front of the courthouse.

Just as I stopped and looked at the police car, the door of the car in front opened, and Detective Wang stepped out and quickly came to greet me.

"You just parked the police car right here? Aren't you afraid of alerting the enemy?" I asked.

Detective Wang smiled wryly: "I was trying to scare the snake away as much as possible. If something really happened in court, the consequences would be too serious. I'm asking you, is this information reliable at all?"

This wasn't the first time he'd asked me this, so I had to answer again: "I've already recounted everything I heard last night to you verbatim. If nothing happens by the end of the trial, and the so-called miracle doesn't occur, not only will it not convert me, the journalist, into a believer, but my existing followers will also be greatly discouraged. If they weren't absolutely certain, I don't think they would dare to say such a thing."

"I hope nothing happens," the detective sighed.

"You've made all the necessary preparations here?"

"Perfect? There's no such thing as perfect. Besides, we and the court are two different systems, and time is so tight. It's only been a few hours since you called last night," the detective complained slightly.

"We've already notified the court and asked them to increase security. As you can see here, there are two cars and a motorcycle on standby, and the nearby police network is also in place. This is the best I can do in this limited time. In addition, the area around the courthouse has been searched, and there are no explosives. I've also selected a few observant detectives to sit below during the trial, just in case of any unusual activity. But honestly, I really find it hard to imagine how they're going to pull off this miracle. Unless they send a group of people to storm the courthouse head-on."

"They probably won't act recklessly like that." As I said this, a prison van with sirens blaring drove into the courthouse.

"Is he up there?" I asked.

"Um."

"How has he been these past two days? Has anything unusual happened?"

The detective shook his head: "It's still the same as before. He hasn't had any contact with outsiders these days. If the Holy Maiden Cult has any plans, he shouldn't know about them."

"I'll go in first then, hopefully nothing bad will happen."

I entered the courtroom and chose a seat near the exam venue. The audience was already quite full. I looked around but didn't see Yuan Ji; he must be working at the subway station. However, I guessed that some believers would be there to witness their miracles. Huang Zhi had no relatives left; the village might have sent someone to listen. Lü Wanqiang's father would also be there, but I didn't know which one.

There was still some time before it began, and the courtroom was quiet; everyone spoke in hushed tones. Countless trials had been conducted in this space, leaving a heavy, solemn atmosphere that deterred anyone from being presumptuous.

There were many armed police officers standing along the walls around the courthouse. It was unclear whether this was the original arrangement or if the additional officers were specifically added after being reminded by the police.

After sitting for a while, a side door opened, and the prosecutor, court clerk, and other personnel from the prosecution and the court began to enter and take their places. Then, Lü Wanqiang was also escorted in by two bailiffs.

He was paler and thinner than when I saw him in the detention center, and the prison uniform looked a little too big on him. His head was slightly lowered, but what I got from him was not a sense of confession, but rather indifference and apathy.

Finally, the presiding judge entered, a middle-aged woman wearing glasses. She sat down on the bench, glanced at her watch, waited a moment, and then announced the start of the trial.

I took a deep breath. What would happen next?

First, the prosecutor read a long indictment, which took more than twenty minutes. My heart was in my throat the whole time, and I was constantly watching and listening. I only relaxed a little when he finished reading and Lü Wanqiang began to confess to the crime. What Lü Wanqiang said didn't surprise me at all; it was exactly the same as what he had told me in the detention center.

While wandering the streets, he saw Huang Zhi and was overcome with lust. Wanting to get some money to spend, he followed her to her residence. He didn't dare act immediately, struggling with his thoughts all night. The next morning, he went to Huang Zhi's place again, tricked her into opening the door, and murdered her. Out of fear, he ultimately fled without doing anything.

He spoke of the whole affair with a calm, even detached, demeanor. But just as he was finishing, a middle-aged man in the first row of the audience suddenly stood up, threw a beverage bottle at him, and uttered something in a dialect I couldn't understand, sounding deeply distressed. The bailiffs arrived quickly, but surprisingly, they didn't remove him from the courtroom; they simply made him sit down again. I guessed this must be Lü Wanqiang's father.

Lu Wanqiang glanced at his father, then lowered his head again.

That look in his eyes was as if he were looking at someone unrelated.

I was somewhat alarmed. It was truly terrifying that the Holy Maiden Cult could brainwash its followers in this way, making them work for the cult and even disregard family ties.

After the minor incident, the trial continued. During the court debate, there wasn't much to argue, as Lü Wanqiang confessed to the murder. Therefore, his defense lawyer could only offer lukewarm statements such as, "His attitude in admitting guilt is good; please consider this in the sentencing."

The presiding judge was quite responsible. During the trial, she asked Lü Wanqiang several questions that had surfaced during the police investigation but had been overlooked by the prosecution. For example, why did Cui Xingjian, the man who stalked Huang Zhi, claim that he didn't see Lü Wanqiang when he came downstairs after following Huang Zhi upstairs? Lü Wanqiang replied, "The stairwell was dark, I hid to the side, and he didn't notice me." In short, he showed no intention of revealing any secrets to exonerate himself.

More than an hour later, the judge adjourned the court for fifteen minutes.

The next court session should be for sentencing; for a murder case, this trial is quite fast. The defendant offered no resistance and intended to obediently submit to justice. With the prosecution proceeding smoothly, how could things not be quick?

As I watched Lü Wanqiang being temporarily taken away by the bailiffs, I thought to myself, "When he's brought back up, something might happen."

They've waited until now, and all is calm. With only a little time left, if nothing happens, won't the believers who came to see them leave disappointed? As Yuan Ji said yesterday, the human court has declared Lü Wanqiang guilty, while their divine deity has declared him innocent. The truth will be revealed in the next moment.

I didn't go to the toilet; I just sat there without moving.

Time ticked by as we waited.

Fifteen minutes passed quickly.

My brow furrowed, and my heart pounded faster. Not because anything had happened, but precisely because nothing had happened.

What's going on? The fifteen-minute recess has ended, why hasn't the court started yet?

No, I checked my watch, and eighteen minutes have passed.

The judge has taken his seat again. Everyone else is in their places, but the defendant's dock is empty.

I have a strong feeling that something must have happened!

A low murmur of commotion began to rise in the audience, and judging from the expressions of the prosecutors and the people in the distance, they seemed unaware of what was happening.

A few minutes later, a man crouched down and ran from the side door to the judge, leaning over to whisper something in her ear.

The judge's expression immediately changed; she stared wide-eyed at the man with an incredulous look.

I was suddenly tapped lightly on the shoulder. I turned around and saw it was Detective Wang.

Sweat dripped down his cheeks, but he seemed oblivious. He lowered his voice and said to me, "Come out with me quickly, something's happened."