Seltsame Geschichten aus Tangdun

Kapitel 5

I was suddenly moved. There were some questions I really wanted to ask, such as... how many of those twenty talismans were left? Perhaps, the one Ah Lei drank was the last one.

But I can't ask. Ah Lei probably hasn't thought of these things, and Yan Xin certainly doesn't want to add to his psychological burden. There's always a way out; what we need now is to figure out how to solve the problem at hand.

"Can we still find that extraordinary person?" Perhaps, like in novels or movies, there will always be an extraordinary person who appears at the crucial moment to help us solve all our problems.

"An extraordinary person? I heard that back in '92, the county went crazy developing the zone and real estate, and they razed that little Taoist temple to the ground, giving him only a small amount of compensation. He had no children and ended up homeless, freezing and starving to death... Perhaps even if that wasn't the case, in this era where people have lost their faith, it would be difficult to survive..."

Yan Xin's voice gradually faded. I thought of Uncle Ma Zi Wang, the temple keeper of Pei Xianxian Temple, Xing Yun, the "fake" Taoist priest of Zhaotianjun Palace, and the middle school textbooks I often saw at the convenience store checkout counter.

Living in such an era, perhaps the only normal thing to do is to follow the rules, study hard, get into a good school, get a good job, find a wife, buy a house, have a child, and continue step by step until the end of life.

Are we now considered to have deviated from the trajectory of our lives?

Even if that's true, it's something they can't control; they have no choice.

"You go first!" "You go first!" With the first question resolved, Yan Xin and I agreed to write down the doubts we had on paper, and let Lei be the judge to see who could come up with the most.

What I wrote was:

1. Coughing sound

2. Mouse and A-Jian

3. Bell

Yan Xin wrote:

1. Coughing sound

2. Child doll

3. Bell

4. Huatian

We both agree that the key points are 1 and 2. The mysterious coughing sound is undoubtedly the beginning of the whole thing. However, under the current circumstances, we have no way to verify it.

As for the bell, Yan Xin said, "I feel like that bell is protecting you. I can't explain why, that's just the feeling." So, first, I need to go back up Wushan Mountain and get the bell back. Next, maybe I need to say something to her...

I felt like I was standing in front of the convenience store checkout again, the petite female clerk at one end of the counter, her long bangs obscuring her downcast eyes. I mustered the courage to say something, but it all vanished in an instant. I could hear my heart pounding...

At this moment, I am still sitting at the bar of Simple Life Bar.

"There are two noteworthy points about the deaths of Haozi and A-Jian. They both cut off their own limbs and steamed them; Haozi's was his left arm, A-Jian's was his left leg. If there were a third victim, it's very likely another part of their body, like their right arm or right leg. Also, A-Lei, what did A-Jian call you in the dream?" I looked at A-Lei. That dream was a terrifying memory he didn't want to recall, but now wasn't the time to be afraid.

A-Lei hesitated for a moment, then bravely met my gaze: "It's... Hua Tian, yes, it's Hua Tian... I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before..."

"Maybe it's him... Don't you guys watch TV often? There's a very famous entertainment tycoon in the area, the CEO of the group company where Ah Jian works, Liu Huatian, the chairman of Heaven on Earth. Hey, Ah Lei, you look a lot like him, really alike!" Yan Xin looked Ah Lei up and down, making him look uneasy.

Unfortunately, we didn't pay much attention to this detail at the time. Lei and I just took it as a joke Yan Xin made to lighten the mood, and Yan Xin herself probably didn't think much of it.

"This Hua Tian is definitely a very important person. If we can find out his connection with Haozi and A-Jian, maybe we can solve some mysteries. But how do we find out..." At this point, I started to get a headache. Some things are indeed very difficult for us to do.

Ever since that nightmare, I've developed a bad habit: whenever I'm upset, I want to smoke. As I thought about it, my hand unconsciously reached into my pocket and touched a piece of cardboard. I pulled it out and looked at it.

"I've got a solution!" What appeared before the three of us was the business card of the captain of the Municipal Public Security Bureau's Criminal Investigation Brigade.

Zhang Xiaojun. First-level police supervisor.

"...Don't scare yourself. Everything happens for a reason. Once you calm down, think about every detail carefully..." The thin face, wrinkled and scarred, seemed to reappear before his eyes, possessing an unknown power that could calm him down.

“He will help us, do you trust me?” I said confidently.

"I don't believe you." Both of them shook their heads in unison, which made me so angry I almost breathed fire.

Section Thirteen

Fuzhou is a strange city. At 9:30 pm, while other cities are still brightly lit and bustling with people, most of the streets here are already deserted. The dim streetlights cast weak beams of light, barely dividing the dense darkness into large, eerie shadows.

Zhang Xiaojun, the captain of the city's criminal investigation team, drove through half of the city and stopped in front of the entrance to Tangbian Residential Area in Gulou District. This residential area was notoriously dirty and chaotic, and the Wenquan Police Station had long been at its wits' end with it, but to no avail.

Zhang Xiaojun habitually looked around.

At the intersection about ten meters across, near the small bridge, there were several night market stalls. A few scantily clad, daring and sexy girls were either squatting or sitting there eating snacks. Every now and then, a flashy motorcycle carrying a woman in colorful attire would speed by. The drivers were mostly young men with avant-garde hairstyles and wearing more or less metal ornaments.

Tangbian Residential Area is clearly poorly managed. Sewage flows freely along the streets, and garbage in plastic bags is scattered everywhere. Rotten watermelon rinds, bones with flesh stuck to them, and some black, unidentifiable stuff are overflowing from the bag openings, emitting a nauseating stench.

Zhang Xiaojun frowned, suddenly recalling a passage he had just seen online at home: "...ghosts living in unclean alleys: all the alleys and lanes that are dirty, messy, filthy, and stinking, are the dwelling places of this kind of ghost."

Warning tape was cordoned off the stairwell where the incident occurred, and several police officers were maintaining order. Outside the tape, a circle of people stood with indifferent expressions, their faces as blank as if they were sleepwalking, only their eyes flashing with a strange light. Zhang Xiaojun felt a wave of disgust, as if he had seen a flock of vultures waiting to devour a corpse.

The deceased lived on the first floor. Several detectives who arrived first crowded at the doorway, smoking, their faces ashen. They only stood up and saluted when they saw the captain. One of them, nicknamed Xiaoqiang, stumbled and almost fell. Zhang Xiaojun's face darkened; when the soldiers behaved like this, the general naturally felt ashamed.

Several detectives clearly noticed this and became somewhat uneasy. Xiao Qiang stammered, "...Captain...how about...you don't go in, and we wait until the forensic doctor Lin finishes the autopsy?"

Zhang Xiaojun glared at him, unbuttoned his top button, and walked into the house. He didn't say anything, but his meaning was clear: "How can criminal police solve cases if they don't examine the crime scene?" The criminal police officers looked at each other and had no choice but to follow him inside.

A strong, pungent stench wafted from the entrance. Zhang Xiaojun, a detective for over twenty years, recognized it immediately as the distinctive smell of exposed internal organs. The first thing Zhang Xiaojun noticed was that the magic mirror in the entryway had shattered into tiny fragments, scattered all over the floor.

In Fujian, houses differ from those in other provinces in that the entrance usually doesn't lead directly to the living room. Instead, there's often a small passageway called the "entrance hall," which is typically used to store shoe racks. There's usually a recessed area in the wall where a shrine to the local earth god is placed, or a mirror, commonly known as a "demon-revealing mirror."

The living room was splattered with blood, which had dried into a dark reddish-brown color. There were also patches of black, pasty substance scattered on the floor, circled in chalk. The victim's body lay in the center of the living room, and forensic doctor Lin An was squatting beside the body, conducting an examination. His position blocked the victim's chest and abdomen, leaving Zhang Xiaojun only able to see the head and legs.

As soon as Zhang Xiaojun saw Lin An's back, he sensed her tension. This puzzled him. Lin An had been a forensic doctor for almost ten years and had seen all kinds of corpses, yet she had never seemed nervous before. Was there something special about this victim today?

Zhang Xiaojun's heart skipped a beat as his gaze swept over the victim's head.

The deceased had a strange smile on his face, a smile he was all too familiar with. In the past two days, this was the third time he had encountered such a smile. The first was a young man nicknamed "Rat," the second was a senior public relations manager—actually a male prostitute named A-Jian—and this third one, according to the records, was a small-time gangster nicknamed "Mourning Mark," who made a living by collecting protection money in this area.

Who will be next?

Forensic pathologist Lin An slowly turned her head, her movements so slow that Zhang Xiaojun could see the glistening beads of sweat on her neck. Only when she recognized him did the tense expression on Lin An's face relax slightly. Zhang Xiaojun strode over and stood behind her.

Looking down from this vantage point, even someone like him, who had been a criminal investigator for over twenty years, felt his stomach churn and almost vomited up everything he had eaten that night.

The victim's entire abdominal cavity had been emptied, leaving a large, dark hole. Almost all the basic organs inside were gone, leaving only a bulging stomach. He noticed that the victim's hands, curled up at his sides, were claw-like, with flesh and blood between the fingers, which made him suddenly realize that the dark, gooey stuff he had seen earlier was pieces of torn flesh.

He forced his gaze away from the corpse, only to realize his forehead was cold and covered in cold sweat. Lin An tried to stand up, but her legs were clearly weak, and she stumbled. He quickly supported her, letting her lean against him. Looking back at the detectives, their eyes were unfocused; they had clearly already witnessed the horrific scene and dared not look again. He sighed inwardly, "You can all leave now."

The detectives, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, quickly left, closing the door behind them.

His arm went around Lin An's waist, encircling her lower abdomen, and pulled her into his embrace. Lin An was his woman, a fact that everyone in the police station already knew. However, this strong-willed woman, who had been divorced and had a child, was extremely proud and refused to make their relationship public, even declaring that "she could be with anyone but him."

What could make her abandon her reserve and throw herself into his arms without hesitation must be something that terrified her to the extreme.

Lin An wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, burying her face in his chest, and took several deep breaths before slowly regaining her strength. Suddenly, she pushed him away, took two steps back, and turned her face away.

"The body has been examined and there are no signs of poisoning. Except for the stomach, all of the deceased's internal organs had been removed, and he died from excessive bleeding. The flesh and blood on his fingers were his own. I also examined his mouth and throat, and there were chewed fragments of internal organs between his teeth. According to the examination results, the deceased tore open his abdominal cavity flesh piece by piece with his hands, pulled out his intestines and other organs, chewed them up and swallowed them. The fragments of organs are still in his stomach."

When Zhang Xiaojun saw the victim's body, he had a vague idea of what was going on, and now Lin An's autopsy results have confirmed that his deduction. The remaining question is: what would drive a living person to tear open their own belly, eat their own internal organs, and die with a smile on their face?

"Ah!" Lin An suddenly screamed and threw herself into Zhang Xiaojun's arms, her slender body trembling uncontrollably, even her voice changed: "He...he...he's still chewing!"

Zhang Xiaojun felt a chill run down his spine and, mustering his courage, looked at the corpse's face. The dead man's thin face still bore that eerie smile, and his mostly white-and-black eyes seemed to be staring at the two of them. His large mouth was tightly shut—he clearly remembered it being open when he entered the room.

I dialed Zhang Xiaojun's cell phone and said only a few words, and he readily agreed to come over right away, which surprised me. It wasn't until he finished telling me his story that I understood why.

While recounting the events, he didn't describe the scene in detail, but in just a few sentences, he still conveyed the chilling feeling that made people involuntarily shudder.

I noticed he specifically mentioned the shattered "demon-revealing mirror" in the entryway and that eerie smile. Perhaps it was these two details that piqued his interest in us. This also shows that the power of folk customs is extremely strong in Fujian; otherwise, in a developed metropolis, the police captain would probably have thought of using drugs, hallucinations, or hypnosis as unusual methods of murder.

In any case, the addition of a seasoned veteran detective to our allies is undoubtedly a great advantage.

The truth should be revealed soon.

Hopefully, fewer people will die before that happens.

Section Fourteen

The taxi stopped in front of the Banghui Hotel. I was consciously paying and closing the door when the unfamiliar taxi sped past me, as if I had never existed.

I stared blankly at the bustling street corner, not daring to take a step for a long time.

The vibrant and energetic people in front of me, less than ten meters away, made me feel their boundless vitality. It was the kind of spirit that comes from people at the very bottom of society who have the clearest pursuits and goals in life and work tirelessly for them.

There was a time when I was one of them.

And now, I am so far away from them, as if we were in two different worlds. For the past two years, I have spent hundreds of nights walking among them, anxious and in a hurry, indifferent to everything around me.

I don't know why I was born. Day and night, I operate like a precise cog in a machine, just for that hefty monthly salary to buy alcohol and coffee. The former is used to numb myself, and the latter to gain a brief moment of clarity from the numbness.

Suddenly I understood why I had spent those sleepless nights wandering this street filled with the scents of cosmetics and cooking fumes. It was because this place was brimming with vitality and the burning passion of life, enough to soothe my soul, which had been adrift for years and felt increasingly empty. Perhaps it was also because of her.

"Um... eleven yuan and twenty cents."

"Um……"

"Hmm... all done."

For over two years, our conversations have never exceeded the boundaries of those three sentences, yet it feels as if we've known each other for many years. But no one knows what kind of beginning our relationship will take.

Perhaps the most precious thing in a person's life is meeting the right person at the right time.

"People are the key." Beneath the walls of the Simple Life Bar, adorned with photographs of outdoor activities, Criminal Investigation Captain Zhang Xiaojun, after reviewing the information from both sides, said with experience, "The secrets of the convenience store girl, Xingyun, and Liu Huatian are enough to solve this mystery. Tomorrow morning we'll split up. Xiao Wang will go find the convenience store girl, and Ms. Yan and Xiao Zhang, I'll arrange for officers to assist you in investigating Liu Huatian's information. As for Xingyun, it might be more convenient for me to go."

Perhaps accustomed to giving orders, the police captain's words carried a condescending tone. Yan Xin's lips twitched slightly, but she finally acquiesced. In truth, from both a safety and convenience standpoint, Zhang Xiaojun's arrangement was perfectly reasonable. However, many things, if expressed slightly differently, can yield drastically different results.

That night, after the four of us parted ways, I went home alone. When I reached the alleyway, I simply didn't have the courage to walk through the dark alley, into my cold, empty home, and lie down on my dark, empty bed. Perhaps it was time for me to move.

The truth is just a step away. According to Detective Captain Zhang Xiaojun, making assumptions is a common method in solving cases. Of the four people present, one is the experienced detective captain, and the other three, having been immersed in murder mystery games, are already accustomed to logical reasoning. Each of them probably already has an assumption in their mind, but no one has dared to voice it.

But that omnipresent shadow has already loomed over everyone's heart.

Fish skin peanuts, country-style chicken wings, Zhengwang red oil radishes... She walked mechanically into the convenience store, which was brightly lit as usual. She stood behind the cashier, deftly taking and giving change, with a professional smile on her face, and there was nothing particularly unusual about her.

She wandered aimlessly around the store, throwing whatever she saw into her shopping basket, and finally grabbed a huge pile of beer, slamming it down on the checkout counter. She raised an eyebrow but didn't say a word.

"Thank you."

"Um... sixty-eight yuan and fifty cents."

"Here you go... Could you talk to me for a few minutes?"

"Hmm...it's for you...it's done."

I don't know if she heard me clearly, nor do I know if she agreed. She just lowered her head slightly, her dyed yellow hair obscuring her face, making it impossible for me to see her expression.

It felt like being gently pricked by a needle, leaving a slight ache in my heart.

Sitting under a telephone pole, I gulped down a large mouthful of beer; it tasted bitter. I glanced at the grime-covered, yellow-black pole and chuckled to myself, "Maybe this is what it feels like to be alone."

The first person to die chopped off his left arm, steamed it, and ate it; the second cut off his left leg, grinning gleefully; the third cut open his own belly, dug out his entrails, and swallowed them raw. Will I be next? Should I cut off my right leg, indifferently watching life slip away with the blood, or should I forcefully pry open my skull, scoop out the viscous brain matter, and cook it into a delicacy like making tofu?

When we, who usually consider ourselves "middle class" urban white-collar workers, face a life-or-death situation, what will be left after peeling away the layers of rigidity?

In a daze, she arrived. She sat down next to me without a care, picked up a can of beer, and gulped it down just like me, her eyes shining like morning stars through her hair.

"They're here."