Chapter 119: Snowbound Roads

2022-05-20

It was late at night. Every house except ours had its lights off. Aside from the wind outside, not a sound could be heard. We each returned to our rooms, wrapping ourselves in thick blankets and drifting off to sleep to the sound of the wind.

Early the next morning, the wind woke me. The heating inside was still going strong. Glancing out the window, I saw Captain Zhou outside with a few others, shoveling snow. The snowfall wasn’t as bad as last night’s, but if we didn’t clear a path while we could, we’d never get the car out.

I stepped outside, planning to help Captain Zhou and the others.

Captain Zhou noticed me and called out, “You’re up early! Sleep well last night?”

“Pretty well,” I answered honestly.

He kept shoveling as we talked, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold. “Say what you will about this place, the heating’s top notch. Nothing beats sleeping in a warm room when it’s freezing outside.”

I smiled as I glanced around. The world was blanketed in white, the snow sometimes so heavy on the branches it snapped them with a sharp crack. The cars by the wall had at least ten centimeters of snow on their roofs. This kind of weather wasn’t going to make our investigation any easier. I said, a bit worried, “Nobody’s going to clear the road to Tougouzi Village. We still need to check the crime scene for any remains.”

Captain Zhou paused, stuck his shovel in the snow, rested his hands on the handle and looked up at the sky. “Yeah, weather like this only comes once every decade or so. Don’t know if it’s luck or bad luck that you all caught it now. Bet the village road is buried deep.”

“It’s rare enough to stumble across a dismemberment case these days,” I said, watching the sky with him. “Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise if we get hit with a once-in-a-decade snowstorm too. Must’ve snowed another ten centimeters last night. It nearly covers your shins by now. Add that to the snow we already had, and there’s got to be at least twenty centimeters by the village.”

Captain Zhou let out a breath, steam clouding the air. “Looks more like thirty to me, and if it keeps snowing, we’ll be wading up to our knees before you know it.”

“Let’s eat,” Captain Zhou called, setting his shovel aside.

Everyone headed back inside for breakfast and to warm up. Captain Zhou turned to me. “In weather like this, I bet we’ll get a bunch of calls asking for help today. Not sure we have enough people. For searching for the rest of the body parts, do you think just our group is enough? Or should we ask for reinforcements?”

I shook my head. “No need. I’ll have Team Leader Shao send some help; he’s got more pull than either of us. Today, let’s go to Tougouzi Village and ask around, see if anyone’s gone missing lately. Right now all we’ve got is a thigh, and we can’t even tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. We need more info.”

Captain Zhou nodded, giving me a friendly pat on the arm, and gestured for me to eat.

After a quick breakfast, Captain Zhou drove. We put snow chains on the tires but even so, he kept the speed low. None of us expected much from today’s search—there weren’t enough of us, and the snow was thick enough to bury even yesterday’s footprints.

But even that was too optimistic. We only made it halfway down the lane before thick snow covered everything—the highway and the fields blurred into one, making it impossible to tell where the road ended. Any further and we could’ve easily driven off into a ditch.

No one wanted to risk their necks over this. Captain Zhou got out and stood by the car, looking around for a long time before finally saying, “There’s only one road, but you can’t guess at it. The village roads twist all over, and now the snow’s covered them. Anyone who doesn’t already know the way is going to get hopelessly lost.”

He climbed back in, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call the village chief at Tougouzi Village—ask him to send someone to meet us.”

He called, handling things without fuss.

It seemed like Captain Zhou and the village chief were on familiar terms.

About ten minutes later, Captain Zhou told us, “The village chief said he’ll send Old Xia over to guide us. But you know how Old Xia is—I wouldn’t trust him behind the wheel, especially in this weather. Looks like it’s still about an hour’s walk from here. How about we go on foot?”

Captain Zhou hadn’t forgotten Old Xia’s antics, but in weather like this, especially on slippery roads, walking was really the safer bet. It’d be a long walk, but there was no helping it. Then it struck me—in weather like this, the killer couldn’t have used a car either. He must’ve walked.

If the killer was traveling on foot, he couldn’t have lived too far from Tougouzi Village, but not so close that everyone would notice him. Too far and it’s impossible to act; too close and he’d be too easily spotted.

We waited in the car for an hour before Old Xia finally appeared.

Through the windshield, we could see Old Xia trudging along, bundled up in a thick hat that covered his ears, though his mouth was left exposed to the cold, making it look oddly menacing. When he spotted our car, he stopped and waved from a distance, signaling for us to come over.

Captain Zhou locked the car, glanced at Old Xia, then at us. “Let’s leave the car here and follow him. When we get to the village, the first stop is the village chief—maybe he’ll have some useful details about the place.”

Old Xia moved ahead, silent and quick. He seemed to have mastered walking on snow, never slipping or faltering. The rest of us had to test every step, careful not to lose our footing. Whenever we lagged behind, Old Xia would slow down too. If we picked up the pace, so did he.

He kept a steady three or four meters ahead, never too close, never joining our group.

He really was a strange one. But honestly, if anyone’s face looked like Old Xia’s, even the most cheerful soul would turn silent and withdrawn.

The trek would take over an hour. Old Xia could probably go the whole day without saying a word, but that wasn’t the case for us. As we walked, we discussed the case—the killer’s profile, whether we’d nailed it. Somehow the conversation shifted toward Old Xia.

Guan Zengbin whispered, “To be honest, the first time I saw Old Xia, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’ve met plenty of burn victims, but never anyone whose face was burned that badly. Got to say, it’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

Guan lowered his voice, worried Old Xia might hear, but judging by that stoic posture, Old Xia probably didn’t notice a thing.

Gu Chen glanced at Old Xia’s back. “There’s this game, Dead by Daylight—it’s basically a killer hunting survivors. First time I saw Old Xia, I thought, he looks exactly like the killer from that game. Wu Meng, your profiling said something interesting—do you really think the killer is a butcher?”

I nodded slowly. “Just a gut feeling—the killer’s probably a butcher, and has been for years. He’s completely numb to the gore by now; there’s no difference to him.”

Maybe Gu Chen misunderstood me a bit, because Captain Zhou started staring hard at Old Xia’s back, like he could see straight through his skin. From the look on his face, Captain Zhou was starting to suspect Old Xia himself.

I hurried to whisper to Captain Zhou, “Just because Gu Chen says Old Xia looks like a butcher doesn’t mean a thing. You know what they say—big head, thick neck, either rich or a cook. It’s just a joke.”

“Old Xia’s about six foot two,” Captain Zhou started breaking things down, “And he matches a lot of the traits you mentioned, Wu Meng. He’s solidly built, wearing rain boots and leather gloves. Not a uniform and he doesn’t have a big gut. No bloodstained apron or cleaver in hand.”

“It’s not like anyone would let folks see their real face at work.” Captain Zhou eyed Old Xia’s back. “Can’t exactly walk around with a bloody cleaver all the time—may as well put up a sign saying ‘arrest me’!”

I nearly laughed. “Of course. My profile just describes the killer’s traits when he’s committing the crime. When he’s not, he probably looks very different. People have so many faces. Maybe killing is the only time he’s truly himself.”

Captain Zhou nodded, considering my words.

Gu Chen offered us each a cigarette, lighting his own. “But Old Xia’s not actually a butcher, right? Just because he looks the part doesn’t mean he is one. If that logic held up, I should go work as a gym trainer!”

Captain Zhou suddenly stopped, shot us a strange look, and subtly pointed toward Old Xia. He spoke low, “But what if Old Xia used to be a butcher?”

We all turned to look at Captain Zhou.