Chapter 214: Chapter 214: A Strange Custom

2022-05-20

The sharp sound pierced the silence, echoing far and wide. My heart sank with a quiet curse. Sensing trouble, Gu Chen yanked me down. The three of us ducked behind some trees, inching backward slowly. We had no idea what Wu Xiufen was up to, but one thing was clear—we couldn’t let her spot us.

We retreated step by step, stopping only after covering a good dozen meters.

Guan Zengbin scanned our surroundings with a wary eye before speaking in a hushed tone. “What do you think this old woman is doing out here? And that creepy way she’s crawling on her knees—it’s downright unsettling.”

I nodded, my heart still pounding in my chest. Taking a moment to steady myself, I said, “There’s got to be a reason for such bizarre behavior. She knelt all the way to that tombstone, so her actions must be tied to whoever’s buried there. I’m guessing that tombstone belongs to her late husband, Zhang Qiang.”

“Zhang Qiang?” Gu Chen peered out cautiously before adding, “But this kind of act—it feels like she’s atoning for something she did to him. Otherwise, why would a loving wife kneel just to burn paper for her deceased husband? And not just any paper—she’s burning black paper.”

Frowning, I murmured, “I’m not sure what kind of custom this is. We should have Mary look into it later. There’s got to be some meaning behind it. I’ve only ever heard of burning yellow paper for offerings, never black.”

“How about this,” I nudged Gu Chen and whispered, “go check if Wu Xiufen is still by the tombstone.”

Gu Chen nodded and stood to take a look. Earlier, the faint glow from the burning black paper had given us a vague sense of our surroundings. Now, everything was swallowed by darkness. Only a few dim stars offered any light, or we’d be completely blind.

By now, the distant flicker of burning black paper had gone out.

Gu Chen turned to us and said, “I’ll go take a closer look. You two stay put. It’s pitch black out here—if we get separated, it’ll be a nightmare to find each other.”

We nodded and watched as Gu Chen crept forward. He leaned slightly, moving silently but swiftly.

Meanwhile, Guan Zengbin and I waited in the oppressive darkness.

Guan Zengbin plopped down beside me, settling in to wait for Gu Chen’s return.

I glanced at him, hesitated, then asked, “Our Special Investigation Team was formed to track down Zhao Mingkun and her accomplices. But have you ever thought about what happens if we never find her? What kind of future would that be?”

Guan Zengbin turned to me, silent for a moment before replying, “I don’t know. All I know is that as long as I’m alive, I’ll keep pushing forward. You might know some things about Zhao Mingkun, but maybe not the full story. Her cases are countless, each one marked by ruthless cruelty.”

The Zhao Mingkun in Guan Zengbin’s words overlapped with the one in my memory, yet somehow felt different. Maybe when she was with me, she never showed that brutal side. Though, to be fair, she often described herself as cruel.

Rubbing my eyes, I said, “Wasn’t it her adoptive father, Shi Huacheng, who forced her into this? And isn’t he the real mastermind behind all those cases?”

Guan Zengbin nodded. “Exactly. That’s why Team Leader Shao despises his own master, Shi Huacheng. He forgot his duty. He was supposed to use his skills to protect others, but instead, he wielded them to harm.”

“Wasn’t it to save his youngest daughter?” I glanced at Guan Zengbin.

He replied, “Yes, but that’s no excuse. Wu Meng, Aunt Xiaojun is someone incredibly important to me. She taught me so much. My dream to become a coroner—it’s because of her influence. Back in Linfen, when I saw Zhao Mingkun, you have no idea how much I wanted to end her.”

“But I couldn’t,” Guan Zengbin’s voice was soft yet resolute. “We were tangled up in another case at the time. So I held back—held back the urge to kill her over and over. We’ve let her slip through our fingers once already. I don’t know if we’ll ever track her down again, but you’ll help me catch her, right?”

As he spoke, Guan Zengbin looked straight at me.

I met his gaze, a strange emotion stirring in my chest. I could easily agree to ease his mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. His words came from the heart, and I didn’t want to brush them off. Yet refusing outright would surely tip him off that something was wrong.

For some reason, I didn’t really want to catch Zhao Mingkun. At least, not after meeting her. I’ve never seen her take a life.

“I—”

Before I could finish, Gu Chen’s voice cut through the darkness. “Come over here. I didn’t find Wu Xiufen, but the name on the tombstone is Zhang Qiang.”

Following the sound, we spotted Gu Chen waving us over from a short distance away. I pulled Guan Zengbin up, and we headed toward him. Together, we made our way to the tombstone. The faint smell of burned paper lingered in the air, but the night’s dampness on the mountain ensured no stray sparks would ignite a fire.

We reached the edge of the tombstone, finally able to examine it closely. It stood on a protruding ledge of the mountainside, offering a wide view into the distance. Not far off lay Xingdong Village, though every household had long since turned out their lights for the night.

Borrowing the faint starlight, I leaned in to read the inscription. Sure enough, it was Zhang Qiang’s tombstone. Oddly, there was no grave mound nearby. Perhaps decades of wind and rain had worn it away. I ran my hand over the stone—it felt rough, weathered by many years.

Gu Chen spoke up. “Could it be that Zhang Qiang didn’t die of lung disease, but was actually…”

Though he didn’t finish, we all understood his implication. Gu Chen suspected Wu Xiufen might have had a hand in Zhang Qiang’s death. That could explain why she knelt while burning paper at his tombstone. But this happened over thirty years ago—uncovering the truth now would be near impossible.

“Thirty years without missing a single day,” I said slowly. “This is just a theory, but do you think her daily ritual of burning paper stems from fear—or is it genuine longing for Zhang Qiang? From what I’ve heard, they barely knew each other. Otherwise, how could no one in the village know where Wu Xiufen even came from?”

Gu Chen tapped the tombstone. “If we’re thinking along those lines, could Wu Xiufen have married her husband knowing he didn’t have long to live? But when Zhang Qiang survived for years, did she decide to kill him? What kind of logic is that? Why would she do such a thing?”

Guan Zengbin shook his head, about to speak, when a loud ‘crack’ shattered the stillness of the night.

The sound was impossibly clear in the quiet, as if it rang right beside us. Startled, Guan Zengbin let out a piercing scream. The sound exploded in my ears, sending my heart racing so hard it nearly leapt from my throat.

Guan Zengbin flung himself into my arms, trembling uncontrollably. I could feel his fear. Honestly, that sudden noise in the dead of night was terrifying, especially since it seemed to come from right next to us. And that—more than anything—was what made it so unnerving.

What on earth near us could make such a loud noise?

I gently patted Guan Zengbin’s back, trying to calm him down.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, something tapped the back of my head. It felt like a hand. Gu Chen was in front of me, and Guan Zengbin was in my arms—so who was behind me?

The hand tapped my head quickly, once, then again. I could tell it was reversed. When we pat someone’s head, our fingers are on top, palm below. But this hand—it was palm up, fingers down.

It felt like the way we’d pat the back of a child’s head.

That meant whoever was behind me had to be much taller. If they could pat my head like this, my height only reached their waist. Was the person behind me… three meters tall?

In an instant, my mind raced with ghost stories and the Village Chief’s odd expression when he spoke of Zhang Qiang. A chill crept through me, freezing me in place. I didn’t dare turn around. What if I did and saw a towering figure over three meters tall staring down at me with a eerie grin?

The hand kept tapping, showing no sign of stopping.

I clutched Guan Zengbin tightly, trembling alongside him. As I held on, he seemed to snap out of his initial fear.

Feeling my grip tighten, Guan Zengbin struggled a bit and whispered, “Wu Meng, why are you holding me so tight?”

“Don’t look behind me. There’s something there,” I warned.

But at that moment, Guan Zengbin glanced over my shoulder.

“Wu… Wu Meng…”