Зал астрологии с плотью и кровью

Глава 106

"I heard from Fang Lei that you're sick?" Juanzi asked with concern.

I looked at her, unsure if the Fang Lei she was talking about was the real Fang Lei. After a long while, I tentatively asked, "What color clothes is she wearing today?"

"You're so funny. She's your girlfriend, why are you asking me? And such a strange question. Isn't it black?" Juanzi plopped down on the edge of the bed, kicking her legs back and forth, but my heart sank to the bottom. Black, Su Qiao was wearing black today.

So, no one can tell me who Fang Lei is? Who is Su Qiao? Am I the only one who's wrong? Or are they the ones who are wrong?

I sat down limply and closed my eyes.

"Hey? What's this?" Juanzi's voice rang in my ears. I opened my eyes and saw her flipping through a stack of photos.

"Give it back to me!" I made a move to snatch it, but Juanzi jumped up like a rabbit and shouted, "What's wrong with looking at it?"

“Miss, that’s a very important keepsake,” I said.

"Remains?" The little girl seemed to think that it was inappropriate to touch the things of the dead, and hesitantly handed them back to me. I immediately put them back in my pocket.

"Don't be nervous, it's just a few photos," Juanzi said with a smile.

"I also rely on it to find people!" I said.

"Looking for someone? Who?" Juanzi asked curiously.

"It's that person whose face isn't very clear," I replied.

"How are you going to find me when the face is so blurry in the photo?" Juanzi asked.

“He should have graduated in the same class as Jiang Hua,” I said.

"Really?" Juanzi seemed intrigued and said, "That's easy!"

"Easy? What to do?" I muttered. The problem is, we can't find Abao at all. How am I supposed to investigate?

“Since he graduated from this school just like Jiang Hua, why don’t you just check the archives?” Juanzi came over and pulled me up, saying, “Come on, let’s go now.”

"The archives?" I asked doubtfully. Does the school have such a place now?

"Oh my god! Did you actually graduate from this school?" Juanzi rolled her eyes at me and said, "The school has always had an archives room, but students are generally not allowed to go in."

"Then how do we get in?" I asked as I closed the door.

"Of course, it's all thanks to me!" Juanzi pointed to herself proudly and said, "One of my friends works in the archives and helps organize documents. I can get in by talking to her."

"Really?" I exclaimed with delight, "Great! Let's go now!"

**********

Stepping into the archives, one sees rows of bookshelves filled with document bags covered in tan kraft paper, with labels clearly indicating the year of each row of documents.

Walking to the middle of the archives, I finally found Jiang Hua's graduation year. After some searching, I easily found the file bag labeled "Class of 1984, Chinese Literature Department." Opening it, I found only a small stack of yellowed papers and a black-and-white photograph with the words "Graduation Commemorative" printed on it. Although more than twenty years had passed, the black-and-white photograph still clearly showed the appearance of each student.

"Jiang Hua? Yu Jian? Zhou Xiangrong?" I muttered to myself as I searched, and soon I found them in the photos. As for the man in the stack of photos, I had a hard time making out his figure in the graduation photos, because everyone was usually lined up in a row, with most of their bodies obscured by each other. Moreover, their clothes were extremely similar, making it even harder for me to identify the blurry-faced man from his clothes or figure.

Just as I was about to give up, my gaze fell on the face of the third boy from the left in the second-to-last row. Perhaps due to the lighting and angle of the photo that day, only the right half of his face was clear, while the left half was completely hidden in shadow. Even with only the right half of his face visible, the more I looked, the more familiar he seemed. Who was he? He looked so familiar? Where had I seen him before?

He scratched his head...

ah!

I couldn't help but slap my head. Wasn't this Zhao Xing when he was young? He just looked younger and more energetic than he does now. I hadn't even remembered him right away.

Zhao Xing? He graduated from this school and then stayed on as a faculty member? But why has he never mentioned this to me before?

So, he knows Jiang Hua, Yu Jian, and Zhou Xiangrong?

coincide……?

I looked through the other files, but didn't seem to find anything more.

Are Zhao Xing and Jiang Hua classmates?

I put the file folder back and was about to turn around when I suddenly heard a thud, like something falling to the ground.

Who? Who's there? The voice came from the archives room further inside.

Juanzi clearly said she was going to chat with her classmate, so why did she come in again? Even if she came in, she would definitely have passed by me, but I didn't see anyone walk past me just now.

Could someone have been inside already? No, Juanzi's classmate clearly said that no one had gone in!

who……?

I followed the sound inside. Because the archives needed to store documents, there weren't many windows. There was only one near the door, and the rest of the room was surrounded by walls, so the lighting was very poor, and the lights were on almost all year round.

The white light flickered, probably from years ago. I looked up at the fluorescent light and felt like there were several dark figures moving freely among the bookshelves.

I was almost at the very back of the archives when I noticed a brown paper file folder lying quietly on the floor. It seemed someone had moved it or... it had fallen off the shelf by itself.

I looked around, but there was no one there, not even a ghost.

It probably fell down on its own because it wasn't put away properly. I chuckled at my own overreaction, then picked it up from the ground. The document bag was old; the edges were frayed and worn, and the drawstring was loose.

1955? I looked at the year on it; it was so early. I don't know what prompted me, but instead of immediately putting it back on the shelf, I opened it and took out a stack of things inside.

Paper...and...photo...a photo with a corner torn off...?

I looked at the photo; it was also a graduation photo, but with fewer people. The torn part was exactly a woman's head. I examined the tear; it was slightly yellowed. This means that if the photo had been torn from its initial storage or a long time ago, the torn area should have been the same yellow as the rest of the paper. However, this area wasn't the same color as the rest of the paper, nor did it look like it had just been torn. It must have been torn some time ago, but definitely much later than when it was initially stored.

How could it have been torn off, and only a corner at that? What was it that it didn't want others to see? Was it this woman's face? I looked at the file folder more closely and noticed that the writing on it seemed different from the file folder I had just examined. Although both were written with black ink, the handwriting was clearly different. The handwriting on this file folder seemed more forceful, like a man's, while the handwriting on the previous file folder was more delicate, like a woman's.

"Haven't finished watching yet?" Juanzi's voice suddenly rang out behind me, sounding a little impatient. I turned around and saw Juanzi walking towards me with her classmate.

"By the way, the handwriting here seems different?" I asked the girl named Zhu Jia, waving the file folder around.

"As expected of a forensic doctor, you examine everything meticulously." Zhu Jia said with a smile, "Of course, the two people who wrote them will produce different results."

"Two people?"

“Yes!” Zhu Jia nodded and said, “I wrote the cover of the first half of the file folders in the archives, and the second half was written by a former administrator.”

"Really?" I looked at it carefully; the file folder in my hand seemed much older than the one I had before.

"The school asked me to update the file folders when I had some free time, because some of them were too old and not good for document preservation. I just replaced half of the file folders in the archives, and there are still some I haven't had time to touch!" Zhu Jia said.

"Do you know who originally wrote these file folders?" I stared intently at the words on the file folders, feeling that they looked so familiar.

"I don't know. I heard these file folders haven't been touched for over twenty years," Zhu Jia replied.

More than twenty years ago? More than twenty years ago again? What a coincidence!

I put the file folder back, then took out another file folder next to it. Although it only had the year and major written on it, I felt like I'd seen it somewhere before. More precisely, I felt like I'd seen this type of handwriting somewhere before.

I flipped through one file folder after another, almost always just taking them out to glance at the words on them before putting them back. Juanzi and Zhujia, of course, looked at me strangely, wondering why I only glanced at the cover of the file folders without opening them.

"Which file folder are you looking for?" Juanzi finally couldn't help but ask me.

"I'm not looking for a specific file folder; I just want to see the handwriting on it," I replied as I flipped through the documents.

"Handwriting? Why are you looking at this?" Juanzi asked curiously.

“Of course it will be useful.” I stopped, and a name seemed to pop into my head, but I wasn’t sure. For some reason, I suddenly felt that this torn piece of paper was extremely useful to me.

"By the way," I asked Zhu Jia with a smile, "didn't you say you'd replaced some of the file folders? Are they still there?"

"Those file folders?" Zhu Jia said, "I still have some; I haven't had time to throw them away."

“That’s great, can I have them all?” I asked.

“Okay, no problem, they’re useless anyway.” Zhu Jia led me to the door of the archives room. When we got to the desk by the door, there was a thick stack of empty file folders.

"Here, take it all." Zhu Jia picked up the stack of things and shoved them into my hands, saying, "It saves me the trouble of throwing them away!"

"What do you need all this for? Are you collecting scrap?" Juanzi nudged me and asked.

"It's useful!" I said perfunctorily, hugging the empty file folders tightly. I thanked Zhu Jia and left, while Juanzi, who wanted to follow me, was held back by Zhu Jia, who continued their private chat.

I breathed a sigh of relief, having just finished swishing my tail, and hurried towards the faculty apartment with the empty file folder in my hand. All I wanted to do now was find Old Man Wen as quickly as possible. I'd always had a bittersweet feeling towards him—a mixture of dislike and admiration. I disliked his rambling, but I deeply admired his vast knowledge, especially his strange yet highly professional skills. For example, lip reading, and handwriting analysis. I'd even taken a course on his handwriting analysis once, but unfortunately, I was just coasting through and didn't pay any attention. It's true what they say, you only realize how little you know when you need it; now I had no choice but to ask him for help.

Volume 3, Hell's Delicacies, Chapter 50: The Date

Volume 3, Hell's Delicacies, Chapter 50: The Date

"You brat, what are you doing here again?" Old Man Wen pushed up his glasses and stood at the door. Without saying a word, I barged into Old Man Wen's room carrying a large stack of files. The room was very tidy, which is rare for a man's room. But that's understandable, since our Old Man Wen has a serious case of mysophobia. When he saw me put what was practically a pile of trash on the table, he almost jumped up.

"Mr. Wen, could you help me analyze the handwriting?" I asked with a forced smile, but I knew that old man Wen wouldn't refuse.

really……

"Handwriting analysis?" Old Man Wen glanced at the stack of files and said, "Didn't you study that before?"

"Hehe, that's not..." I scratched my head awkwardly and said, "Have you forgotten everything?"

"You young people..." Old Man Wen sighed and said, "You didn't study hard when you were learning, and you even complained that I was nagging. But when you need to use us, you think of us old folks!"

"Yes, yes! I apologize." I bowed and handed the folder to Old Man Wen.

Old Man Wen said nothing more, took the file folder, stared at it for a full three minutes, then put it down and started looking at the other file folders. He examined them very carefully, occasionally comparing some of them while muttering to himself. After a while, he finally put down the file folders.

"How is it?" I asked with concern.

"Judging from the handwriting, he should be male. He's stubborn and obstinate, extremely clean, and meticulous in his work. He has no faith, or his faith is unusual. Also, he's probably single," Old Man Wen replied earnestly.

"Huh?" I didn't know how to respond for a moment. I didn't expect that the old man could draw such a long conclusion from some handwriting. I really don't know if he was just talking nonsense or if there was something to it.

"Don't be skeptical," Old Man Wen seemed to sense my doubt and explained, "Men's handwriting is usually neat and square. The handwriting on these file folders is not only neat, but meticulously so. Almost every file folder has perfectly legible characters, and the spacing between the characters is almost identical, as if measured with a ruler. Imagine so many file folders, all written by one person, and each one with perfectly uniform handwriting. This shows that the person who wrote them is extremely patient, or rather, very strict with themselves. Usually, such people are quite stubborn, self-important, yet feel their talents are unappreciated. Otherwise, they wouldn't be doing file management work. So they often feel superior to others. Generally, such people are very clean, but they lack focus and are meticulous about mistakes, so they are very serious about their work."

"Then how do you know about his beliefs?" I asked curiously.

“According to past research, there are usually not many religious people among the paranoid population, because they prefer to believe in themselves. However, once they do believe, they are often several times more devout than others. And these are precisely the best candidates for various cults to recruit,” Old Man Wen replied.

"So, are you single or not...?"

"Look at the writing on these files. Whenever there's a character with the 'ear' radical, he usually writes it like two 'U's connected together, like a woman's breast. This indicates he has sexual dysfunction. If he has problems, how can he easily get married? Of course he'll stay single." Old Man Wen gave me a knowing look.

Paranoid, stubborn, meticulous, clean, unreligious, single… these characteristics seem remarkably similar to my ideal candidate. However, I still need a definitive conclusion.

"You brat, you already know who this person is, so why are you asking me?" Old Man Wen rolled his eyes at me.

He found out? Sigh! He really is an old fox; he guessed it right away. I could only give a helpless, bitter smile.

"Thank you, Professor Wen." I picked up the file folder again. Now that I knew it was him, I certainly wouldn't wait any longer. Perhaps finding him would yield more clues. With that thought, I quickly got up to take my leave.

*********

As I walked out of the school, I was lost in thought when I heard Juanzi's familiar voice ahead of me. She seemed to be arguing with someone about something.