Chapter 133: A Gruesome Surprise

2022-05-20

In the blink of an eye everyone turned their heads to the side, unable to hold back the nausea churning inside. The room filled with the sounds of retching as we all gave in. Honestly, it’s hard to describe what I was feeling right then—if I had to try, I’d say I’d rather eat dog poop than touch this thing again.

Now the group was huddled together, vomiting like we’d all been poisoned.

The evidence guy caught sight of the half-eaten dumpling still in his hand and instantly went green. He collapsed onto the table and looked ready to vomit up his very soul.

The Village Chief, seeing the spectacle, exploded, yelling, “You useless woman! I’ve never seen you mess up before, but now at the crucial moment you screw things up? Where did you even get these dumplings? You just served up suspicious food without a second thought? Are you trying to kill us all?”

His wife, already in her fifties, actually started tearing up after being scolded. “I’m cursed, aren’t I? I woke up this morning and there was a basin of dumplings sitting on the windowsill. I thought Cuìhuā and the others had dropped them off. How was I supposed to know this would happen…”

As she wept, her voice rose, “You heartless man, didn’t you promise to treat me well when we got married? Said you’d dote on me every day—now look at you, nothing but complaints. I’m over fifty, yet you keep picking at me. Are you looking to divorce me? Ever since you became Village Chief you’ve done nothing but boss people around. How am I supposed to live like this?”

Her words left the Village Chief helpless, and he could only mutter apologies over and over.

I quickly intervened before the drama spiraled further. “Ma’am, when exactly did you find those dumplings?”

The old lady shot the Village Chief a glare. “Young man, I truly don’t know what’s going on with these dumplings. I got up at a little after five this morning, wanted to check if the snow had stopped, and spotted that basin of dumplings on the windowsill.”

I patted the evidence guy’s back while trying to swallow my own urge to gag. “Could you describe exactly what you saw when you found those dumplings?”

She looked embarrassed, fidgeting with her sleeves as she spoke slowly. “I just saw a basin on the windowsill, with a plastic lid over it. It wasn’t ours—I hadn’t seen it last night before bed either.”

The old lady glanced at me. “I just wanted to see what it was, so I lifted the lid and saw it was filled with dumplings. You know how cold it gets here—if you leave dumplings outside, they’re basically frozen solid by morning. I figured someone brought them for us so I brought them inside.”

Worried I might not believe her, she added, “Cuìhuā and the other ladies sometimes do that too. If you don’t believe me, ask the Village Chief.”

The Village Chief nodded in agreement.

I pressed on, “Did you see any footprints when you went out?”

Only then did she smack her own leg in realization. “Oh my, there were no footprints in the yard! You’re right, when I went out I didn’t see a single footprint. Could it be—it wasn’t a person who brought those dumplings, but a ghost that left them on my windowsill? Oh heavens, we haven’t done anything wrong!”

The Village Chief slammed the table: “Ghosts, ghosts, you and your superstitions! You’re the Village Chief’s wife, how can you believe that nonsense every single day?”

I couldn’t help but find it both exasperating and funny. I quickly explained, “It’s not ghosts. It snowed a lot last night, so the snow probably covered the person’s footprints. The dumplings were left out there last night—by the time you woke up, whoever left them was long gone.”

“But!” The old lady still looked worried, even frightened. “But what was that person trying to do? Such evil… Who would do something like this? Tougouzi Village really isn’t peaceful these days!”

She had hit the nail on the head—Tougouzi Village was far from peaceful.

I closed my eyes, absentmindedly tugging at my hair as my mind raced through the string of corpse-dumping cases. It started with the killer tossing a leg by the roadside, then shoving an arm into the snow. After that, the bloody writing last night, and now the dumplings.

It was clear the killer wanted the world to see. From the moment that first leg was found, they’d been trying to draw attention. If they actually wanted to hide the body, they could have thrown it deep in the fields. Instead, everything had been left in plain sight.

Why go out of their way to play the monster, to pose as some irredeemable fiend? What did the killer want us to see, and why?

There was a voice whispering in my head, urging on an idea, but the most crucial connection was missing—the key link that held the whole case together.

“Pick out all those meat fillings!” I looked at the basin overflowing with dumplings and said to everyone, “We need to know just how much meat is here—how much of the body does it account for? Which part of the corpse are these meat chunks from, and who was the victim?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

The evidence guy wanted nothing more than to run from the room—he grabbed the bag of evidence, ready to leave. Not even the Village Chief’s offer of a meal could change his mind. After what we’d just gone through, he was probably on the verge of vomiting up his own stomach. With no other choice the Village Chief handed him a few wheat cakes for the road to keep him from starving.

The rest of us squatted down in the courtyard, picking out chunks of meat from each dumpling and tossing them into a basin. Judging from the number of dumplings, there were enough to feed seven or eight people easily—about two hundred in total, give or take. The old lady didn’t waste any; knowing how much we could eat, she boiled all two hundred plus dumplings.

Examining the meat, it wasn’t finely chopped but rather cut in rough chunks.

Judging by the size of the dumplings, the killer must have started making the filling yesterday afternoon, then kneaded the dough and wrapped each dumpling. For a single person to do all of this, it would’ve taken hours.

I’d suspected Old Xia before—he was a butcher, and fit the profiling. But once the dog got involved, I started to think the killer might be Erxiao. Blackback listened to its master; even if used to dispose of the body, it wouldn’t have just bitten off the arm and ignored the rest.

So I thought maybe there were two killers—Old Xia and Erxiao acting together. I’d kept calm so neither would grow suspicious. But now, it’s obvious neither of them had enough time to pull this off.

From looking at the dumpling wrappers, they’re thin and fresh, definitely not left sitting out for long. Once defrosted, old dumpling skins break easily, but with so many dumplings only a few wrappers had cracked.

So who was this killer? Why did every clue I followed end up being derailed by something new?

We kept picking out the meat chunks from dumplings when Gu Chen commented, “That’s a mountain of dumplings—must be pounds and pounds of meat.”

As we emptied out the filling, it already filled half a large basin.

That got me thinking, so I joked to the group, “Guess you guys can laugh now—after all, you only ate one…”

The others’ faces twisted in horror when they heard me. Guan Zengbin cursed, “Screw you!”

He didn’t even get the words out before he twisted away and started retching all over again.

Finally, we managed to get all the meat filling out. Only one chunk looked like it came from a human body—the killer must’ve planned it that way. Little did they know we’d find it with just the second dumpling we tasted.

“Let’s weigh how much there is.”

I stood up and turned to the Village Chief.