Легенда о Кшитигарбхе - Глава 7

Глава 7

When Jiang Nan arrived at Chu Fan's place, the leader of the thieves was already on the ground with his legs weak, his convulsing body as if he had encountered some nightmare.

Chu Fan was still standing there, frustrated. Why could he only chase after that white shadow every time? He had never even seen what that person looked like. If that person changed clothes and stood in front of him in the future, he might not even recognize them. How could he then talk about finding someone to find out about his father's death?

"What are you doing here?" Jiang Nan stepped forward and patted Chu Fan on the shoulder.

"Uh..." Chu Fan couldn't think of a good excuse for a moment, so he blinked and pretended to be stupid.

"What did you just see?"

That's a good question!

Chu Fan glanced around at the burly men and thieves who were bound hand and foot, and after confirming that his life was not in danger, he recounted in detail the events of the murder, robbery, and division of spoils.

Whether in ancient or modern times, people who hold similar positions, such as police officers, always give others a sense of security.

But Chu Fan didn't know that the difference between a policeman and a thief was simply that the former wore the hat of justice, while the latter did not.

Human nature is fundamentally animalistic.

Thieves are simply animals that have regained their wild instincts.

Jiang Nan escorted Chu Fan home with a legitimate reason, and the people they met along the way all respectfully nodded to the chief constable who was protecting their peaceful lives.

Chu Fan felt a strange sense of peace; he hadn't felt this calm for a long time since his mother passed away.

The death of his parents seemed to have dug a hole in his heart, a hole so deep that he didn't know what to use to fill it.

Stripped of his mature facade, he's just a seventeen-year-old boy.

His bravado desperately needs someone to lean on and support him.

Unconsciously, Chu Fan slowed down his pace.

Before my eyes, the long silhouette of Jiangnan, stretched by the setting sun, gradually overlapped with the image of my father, Chu, from my memory.

At that moment, Chu Fan naively thought that perhaps he knew what to use to fill the hole in his heart.

How naive.

So much anticipation.

On a beautiful sunset evening, no one realized that the coffin used to conceal the stolen goods had vanished without a trace.

No one knew that the coffin had been returned to the grave of its buyer.

***

Fujihime hastily escaped from the villa, which was designed in a style contrary to ancient houses. She carefully followed Mu Yan several times and discovered a secret room in the villa. She thought she could find a way to get rid of this man's control, but she did not expect that the secret room contained memorial tablets from ancient times to the present day.

Fujihime did a quick mental calculation and found exactly eighty-one memorial tablets.

She recognized some of the names on the memorial tablets; they were the very people she had gone to kill, such as Song Meiniang.

She had always believed that those who either bought coffins or refused them were determined by the Book of Life and Death in the underworld.

Just then, the name on one of the memorial tablets changed, and it began to twist and spiral until a new name was finally engraved on it.

The new names are in red, representing the living; while those painted in black are the dead.

Fujihime hadn't forgotten the black name that had just disappeared; it belonged to someone who had been dead for a hundred years. As a supernatural, non-human being, she knew a little about Yin and Yang, the Five Elements, and the Eight Trigrams. With a quick calculation, she realized that the new name was actually the present life of the name that had just disappeared.

Fujihime dared not think any further.

If this is that person's secret, she no longer wants to run away, but to save her life.

What kind of pain must have been caused by a hatred that sought to exterminate someone for all eternity?

jealous

Life between heaven and earth is like a white horse galloping past, fleeting and gone in an instant.

Mu Yan had lost count of how many cycles this was.

Perhaps a thousand, perhaps ten thousand, perhaps even longer.

Some say that time heals all wounds.

For him, time cooled his feelings and extinguished his passion, but it could not diminish the hatred or lessen the pain.

Watching Uncle Liu resist—even if in vain—as he tried to put his neck into the belt hanging from the tree, Mu Yan simply calculated in his mind how many coffins he had sold in this lifetime.

Uncle Liu's legs gradually stopped struggling and remained straight, swinging back and forth.

Mu Yan's lips curled up slightly, but the message he conveyed was not one of pleasure.

He knew that at this moment, he should laugh, he should laugh out loud.

But when I realized that I had actually used 'should', an extra layer of sadness arose out of nowhere.

Through countless cycles of reincarnation, all the joys and sorrows of the past have been transformed, but the wounds of betrayal never truly heal.

Hatred, deep down.

Even if we send these people off to their funerals a thousand times, it will not be enough to quell their suffering.

His scars will never heal.

His coffins will never run out of stock.

His revenge will never end.

When Chu Fan was invited to the Six Doors, he thought to himself that he didn't seem to have done anything wrong.

Jiangnan brought him the devastating news of Liu Bo's death.

Following his father's accident, Chu Fan once again smelled that nauseating stench of corpses.

“Wind burial.” Jiang Nan pointed to the hanging tool left on the treetop—a belt—and added, “It’s somewhat similar.” Glancing at the fallen feathers on the ground, he said, “A vulture that flew in from who knows where.”

A vulture?

It wasn't until the constables lifted the white shroud to show Chu Fan that he realized: these vultures were hunting prey.

The scene was one of devastation.

Chu Fan felt a sharp pain in his stomach and turned away to hide his embarrassment.

Jiang Nan patted Chu Fan on the back, "There's something else, come with me for a moment."

Chu Fan followed Jiang Nan's pace, and after a few steps, he stopped in front of a deep pit.

"This one," Jiang Nan said, giving a directive.

Chu Fan peeked out and saw a coffin.

At this moment, Chu Fan's sensitivity to coffins, cultivated over the past year, allowed him to instantly contact the person he was looking for.

Jiang Nan took in all of Chu Fan's changes in expression.

Liu Bo's death and the coffin of unknown origin found at the scene further confirmed Jiang Nan's belief in the value of Chu Fan as bait.

After dismissing his subordinates, Jiangnan began further probing.

Did Uncle Liu mention to you before he passed away that he had bought himself a coffin?

Chu Fan's thoughts were still lingering on the past. He hesitated for a long time before answering, "No. I've been running around the outer city these past few days and haven't had much time to talk to him."

Jiang Nan proceeded cautiously, continuing to probe, "I know you've been looking for someone, and in fact, our Six Doors is also secretly investigating him."

Using such a large organization as the Six Doors for protection is a good cover.

Chu Fan indeed perked up from his earlier sadness, his blinking eyes seeming to ask the other person, "How do you know it's the same person?"

"Do you remember the information you had someone check at the Six Doors that time?" Jiang Nan had naturally prepared his answer, just waiting for Chu Fan's expression. "That was what I compiled. There are precedents. If it were this person's usual method, the deceased's relatives would receive a receipt for the coffin. We didn't find any receipts on Uncle Liu, and Uncle Liu has no children, so the rest..." Jiang Nan slowly turned his gaze to Chu Fan's surprised face, stopping his voice.

"..." Chu Fan's heart suddenly felt a pang.

I didn't sleep a wink all night.

Chu Fan was filled with unease.

Although he had never spoken to him, never had any contact with him, and had never even seen him face to face.

That white figure was hidden perfectly.

Every time they brushed past each other, it seemed as if he could only ever follow in that person's shadow.

This night was long.

Chu Fan even rehearsed in his mind what to say, what to ask, and in what tone.

At this moment, Chu Fan had probably forgotten his initial assessment of that person—that he was a suspect in the murder of his father.

Chu Fan wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep that night.

Jiangnan, who was hiding in Liu Bo and Chu Fan's house as the chief constable of the Six Doors, had been trembling ever since nightfall.

This is a more intense kind of excitement.

They can't wait for someone to be defeated by them.

Compared to Chu Fan, Jiang Nan's impression of that person was almost entirely limited to the text in the file.

The only memory he retained was of that white figure from back then.

So detached from worldly affairs, so pure and innocent.

How can someone be so clean?

Jiangnan will never forget the humiliation he suffered at their first meeting, when that man in white brought him such a humiliation.

At that time, he was completely naked, crawling on top of a woman.

The woman's excited screams were so lewd, and his face buried between her breasts was so greedy.

The man's eyes were indifferent, and his white clothes were so clean.

White, it completely touched the most vulnerable part of Jiangnan's heart.

The woman beneath him was his mother.

His father died early, and his widowed mother was sexually frustrated, so his growing son became a victim of his lust.

Jiangnan despises that kind of sexual intercourse.

But when pleasure overwhelms the body, ethics are undoubtedly lost.

The most important thing is the body's needs, not the rationality given by society.

⚙️
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