Chapter 125: A Hand Raised From the Snow

2022-05-20

Li Danan was shouting at the top of his lungs outside Old Lady Wang’s door. Judging by his frantic tone, it sounded like something huge had happened. Old Lady Wang paid him no mind, still smiling as usual in her own world. We scrambled to our feet and hurried outside, with the old Village Chief waving a quick farewell to her.

We stepped out of Old Lady Wang’s house and pushed open the heavy iron gate, only to find Li Danan waiting, nerves written all over his face.

I was just about to speak when Li Danan blurted out, “Come quick, you need to see this. Something big has happened.”

I nodded and said, “No matter how urgent it is, you’ve still got to explain. What’s going on?”

Li Danan finally caught his breath and started to fill us in. “I was waiting for you at the Village Committee. You didn’t show so I was just waiting, when suddenly a villager ran up in a panic, claiming they’d seen something terrible. I asked what happened and the villager told me he’d seen a hand sticking out of the snow! Right over there in that field—there’s a hand!”

As he said this, real fear flashed in Li Danan’s eyes.

“A hand sticking out of the snow?” Li Danan was struggling to get the words out, and I couldn’t quite piece together what he was trying to say. I asked, “What exactly are you trying to tell us?”

Li Danan saw he wasn’t explaining himself clearly, so he just grabbed my arm and said, “Just come see for yourselves—it’ll make sense then.”

We nodded and quickly followed Li Danan toward the west side of the village. After walking for more than ten minutes, we spotted a crowd gathered tightly in the distance, all craning their necks to stare at something in the center. People packed in so close, I couldn’t see what was in the middle.

The closer we got, the louder the buzz of rumors and muttered conversations.

“This is weird,” someone said. “How could a hand just sprout out of the snow?”

Another voice chimed in, “This has to be fake. There’s no way this could be real.”

Gu Chen was helping push the old Village Chief through the crowd. As they moved up, the Village Chief raised his voice: “What’s going on here? Why are you all crowding around? Make some space, come on!”

His shout got everyone’s attention, and at once people stepped aside to let him through. I followed their path and finally saw what everyone had gathered to look at.

It really was a hand jutting up from the snow—a right hand at that.

“Step back—let the folks from the city see what’s going on,” the Village Chief ordered.

I studied the hand closely. Its nails were painted, the same shade and style as on the leg we’d found earlier. From the wrist, a bit of pale forearm showed, and the palm was curled as if clutching at something—though whatever it was, it only grasped empty air.

The skin was snowy white. Combined with the evidence from the severed leg, it all pointed toward the victim being female.

The snow here was about thirty centimeters deep. There’s no way a whole person could be buried like this. Just like with the thigh, this was a dismembered limb. Judging by how the arm stood upright in the snow, it looked as though someone had wedged it straight down into the drift.

Guan Zengbin crouched and began to examine the severed arm carefully.

After a moment, she pulled on a pair of gloves. With her left hand she gripped the frozen hand and with one sharp tug she yanked the entire arm from the snow. The crowd gasped and instinctively took a few steps back. Everyone got a good look at the cut end.

From the way the arm was severed, it was obvious it hadn’t been cut with a blade. The break was ragged and uneven, and you could see clear marks where some kind of animal had gnawed at it. There were rows of tooth marks pressed deep into the exposed bone.

The teeth marks were small and sharp, leaving deep punctures along the bone. It definitely wasn’t something a human could bite through. In a village like this, the only animal I could think of with jaws like that was a dog. But ever since I’d arrived, I hadn’t heard a single dog barking.

Did this village have no dogs, or are even the dogs here deaf and mute?

Guan Zengbin frowned and began to explain, “Look at the arm. The tendons are pulled tight, which is why the fingers are curled like they’re reaching for something. In medical terms, this is called cadaveric spasm. It happens right at the moment of death, when the muscles contract and freeze, preserving whatever position and expression the person had when they died.”

She thought for a second, then continued, “That leg from before was the same—the foot was flexed up, caused by the muscles contracting at death. So this arm was bitten off while the victim was still alive. And chances are, both the leg and arm belonged to the same person.”

I nodded, staring at the arm. “Look at the polish—same dark color and same technique as on the leg. Is it possible both limbs came from the same victim?”

“It’s likely,” Guan Zengbin replied. “Very likely, actually. We can’t know for certain before DNA testing, but from my experience these probably belonged to the same woman.”

A disturbing image flashed through my mind. If that arm and that leg really belonged to the same person, I could picture something unspeakably brutal.

In my mind’s eye, I saw a butcher prowling with a dog, searching for prey. If he found you, all you could do was pray for your soul.

I looked around. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on Guan Zengbin and the arm she held. Some faces were tense, some frightened; everyone was different. The fresh snow was trampled with footprints, making it impossible to track anyone. For all we knew, the killer could be hiding in this very group.

Tougouzi Village is bordered by farmland to the north and south, and beyond that, rolling mountains. No one would be living on the mountain’s edge in this season. To the east is the highway, nothing but a little supermarket nearby—no houses. The village’s west side connects to Yumu City, but it’s still a two-hour drive at best.

It’s a remote place, and with this rare heavy snowfall, going anywhere is nearly impossible. Anyone coming from outside would need at least three hours to cross the blocked roads.

Looking up, the sky was heavy with dark, thick clouds threatening more snow at any moment.

So for someone to plant an arm in the snow here without being spotted, they had to know this village inside and out. In other words, the killer could very well be one of the villagers. Hiding right here, among these seemingly harmless disabled people.

At least several dozen people were huddled in the crowd. Some you could tell at a glance were disabled. Others showed nothing on the surface—the sort who might be deaf or mute and you’d never know.

Could the killer be one of them? Was the victim also disabled?

Guan Zengbin said, “The conditions here are too basic. I can collect a DNA sample, but there’s no equipment to analyze or compare it. We’ll have to send anything out for real testing.”

Gu Chen nodded, then shook his head. “It’ll take us at least three hours to get back to Yumu City. Too much hassle, and we haven’t found any leads here at Tougouzi Village.”

Captain Zhou clapped Gu Chen on the shoulder. “Then here’s what we’ll do, I’ll have someone come out specifically to handle transfers between us.”

He looked at the old Village Chief and said, “Chief Wei, these skies look grim—could start snowing any minute. If we leave now, we might get stuck on the way. Besides, this killer is cruel enough to dump bodies right in broad daylight. I say we’re better off staying here.”

“Is there anywhere we could sleep?” Captain Zhou asked.

Village Chief Wei nodded. “Don’t worry about that. We’ve got more than enough houses, though the conditions can’t compare to the city. No heating here, just coal stoves. I’m not sure if you’ll know how to use them.”

It was clear Captain Zhou was invested in this case, taking it seriously and doing his job.

I waved them off, cutting in, “Now’s not the time to talk about comfort—we can deal with living arrangements later.”

“Who was the first to find the scene?” I called out to the crowd.

Nobody responded.

Seeing everyone still making noise, the old Village Chief shouted, “Quiet down! Can’t you see there’s been a death? Why are you all so noisy? If you were the first to see the hand, step forward. If not, just stand there and be quiet.”

Here in Tougouzi Village, the Village Chief’s word clearly carried a lot more weight than mine. In no time the crowd fell silent.

Then, a child who looked seven or eight years old stepped out.

I looked—and saw the child had only one arm.

“Grandpa Wei,” the child said to the Village Chief, his voice timid, “I was the first one to see that arm. I…I even went over to touch it, until my dad hurried over and pulled me away.”