Chapter 215: The Woman’s Corpse Beneath the Tombstone

2022-05-20

Guan Zengbin’s voice shook, betraying real fear. He must have seen something truly terrifying. Just looking at him only made me more nervous. At that moment Gu Chen stepped past us, headed straight for whatever it was that had been brushing the top of my head this whole time.

The moment he got a good look, Gu Chen’s tone turned stern. “Let go already, she’s dead. Come on, you all must’ve seen at least fifty, if not a hundred corpses by now. No point clinging to her, hurry up and take a look!”

Gu Chen’s voice was sharp and urgent. Right then I knew this was serious. I quickly let go of Guan Zengbin and turned to look. He did the same, peering over my shoulder. As I turned, I spotted a body hanging high from a tree behind us. Her position put her outstretched hand right above my head.

Her body swayed gently in the air, arms moving with every swing. Each time she rocked, her hand brushed against my head.

The moment we caught sight of the corpse, Guan Zengbin and I both fell silent. The woman hanging from the tree was none other than Wu Xiufen.

A quick glance showed Wu Xiufen’s pants had slipped off, revealing bright red long johns underneath. I didn’t have time to wonder how or why this happened, all I could think was how impossible it seemed that Wu Xiufen would hang herself here.

Why was it that Wu Xiufen ended her life on the tree behind us? Especially since we’d been apart for barely ten minutes.

“Hurry!” I shouted. “She hasn’t been away from us for long—she might not be dead yet.”

With that, I rushed forward and grabbed one of Wu Xiufen’s legs, pushing up with all my strength to try to lift her. Gu Chen didn’t hesitate after hearing me—he sprinted forward, vaulted up the tree in a few quick moves, and whipped out his dagger to slice the rope.

I suddenly felt the weight of her body settle on me. Guan Zengbin jumped in to help and together we laid Wu Xiufen flat on the ground. Immediately, Guan Zengbin began checking her condition. Gu Chen dropped down from the tree at the same time.

Before, while we were trying to avoid Wu Xiufen, we hadn’t dared to use our flashlights. But now, that was the least of our worries. Gu Chen and I both switched on our flashlights to help illuminate things for Guan Zengbin.

Looking closer, there was a deep ligature mark on Wu Xiufen’s chin. From the looks of it, her jawbone might already be broken.

Thinking back, the sharp ‘crack’ we’d heard earlier was probably the sound of Wu Xiufen’s jaw snapping.

Guan Zengbin ran his fingers carefully over her neck and jaw, then shook his head and said, “There’s nothing we can do. Instant death.”

Just hearing that made my hand holding the flashlight shake. I never imagined Wu Xiufen would end her own life like this, nor that a woman in her sixties would climb a tree just to commit suicide.

But why did this have to happen?

In truth, I understood that, no matter her reasons, our arrival was somehow tied up with her death. The secret at the heart of this—the one Wu Xiufen lied to us about, the thing she’d guard with her life—was something she simply couldn’t let slip out. Wu Xiufen definitely knew something critical.

Guan Zengbin got to his feet and said, “She died instantly. Wu Xiufen climbed the tree, tied a knot in the branch, and slipped her head through the loop—all while we were talking below.”

He paused, falling silent for a moment.

As Guan Zengbin described it, we could easily picture the scene: While we stood talking beneath the tombstone, an old woman up above was quietly getting ready for her own death. She moved with caution, as if playing hide-and-seek with us, slowly placing her head through the noose and looking down at us.

We’d never know what was running through her mind in her final moments. All I knew was, she killed herself while all three of us were right there, without leaving even a chance for us to save her.

I realized the crack of the branch from earlier must have let Wu Xiufen know we were near. When we left, she must have climbed up the tree. Gu Chen probably came back just as she was making her way up. Meaning, if I hadn’t made that noise, she might not have decided to end her life.

After a moment’s silence, Guan Zengbin spoke again. “There’s no doubt—she killed herself. These distinct ligature marks on her neck make it clear. Judging by the jaw and neck, her jawbone is fractured, both upper and lower jaws are damaged. When I checked her neck, it was broken too.”

Hearing him, I looked over at Wu Xiufen’s face. Sure enough, I could see the injuries he described.

He continued his explanation: “Medically, a force of fifteen kilograms is enough to break a person’s neck. Wu Xiufen’s body weight, combined with the force of the fall, far surpassed that. The broken neck was what killed her. The rope pressing above her throat would compress the carotid sinus and stimulate the vagus nerve, causing instant death. For more precise details, I’ll need to do an autopsy.”

I glanced at the rope Gu Chen had cut. It was a long strip of red fabric—around here, people often use a red cloth as a belt for their pants. That’s why Wu Xiufen’s pants had fallen off, showing the red long johns underneath.

At that moment, I realized that for a woman to give up her dignity, even after death, her secret had to be more important than her own life.

I looked over at Zhang Qiang’s tombstone and then at Wu Xiufen, now lying at its base. After decades apart, this strange couple was finally reunited, lying together once again.

I let out a long sigh and told Gu Chen, “Get in touch with the village chief. We need to take the body back.”

While Gu Chen called the village chief, I phoned Mary for help.

On the call, I asked Mary to look into the custom of burning black paper for the dead—where it came from and what it meant. I also asked her about the fourth story. Mary told me it was close to nine o’clock and everyone was still waiting for the fourth story to appear, but so far nothing new had come up.

At that moment I realized that, once the new story dropped, we’d know if the killer was really using the Chinese zodiac as a pattern. Mary promised she’d let me know the moment anything happened.

After I hung up, a heavy feeling settled over me.

What did Wu Xiufen’s death really mean? Right now, Xiao Liu was staking out near her brother’s home. What would the killer write in his fourth story? Who was his next target? And what was driving him to murder? All these questions tangled together in my mind with no clear answers in sight. It was maddening.

Twenty minutes later, Gu Chen finished his call as well.

Gu Chen said, “The villagers are too scared to come move the body at night. They say this mountain is haunted. No one’s ever dared come up here at night—except Wu Xiufen, who came to burn paper every year for thirty years. Still, they say for three decades she’s stayed shut away in her house and never talked to anyone. She wasn’t exactly ordinary.”

I frowned. The village chief’s skittishness made a lot more sense now—there were spooky stories about this place. No wonder he kept looking around nervously. Still, as the village chief, he probably felt awkward bringing up ghosts in front of us.

Gu Chen glanced around and said, “We shouldn’t waste more time. Who knows when they’ll get here. I’ll carry the body down. You guys handle the lights up front.”

“You sure?”

I glanced at Wu Xiufen’s body. Even for someone who works with the dead, the idea of carrying a corpse on your back in the dark would shake anyone. You’d need nerves of steel to do it.

Gu Chen nodded firmly. “What else can we do? Unless you want to carry her?”

I quickly shook my head and, together with Guan Zengbin, helped Gu Chen hoist Wu Xiufen onto his back.

We started making our way down the mountain.

Once we reached the foot, my phone suddenly rang—it was a call from Mary.

“Is there a new story?” I asked.

“No,” Mary replied. “There’s still no update. But I found the answer about that custom you asked about. Like I said, I once visited around Dongxing City and I love collecting local folk customs. When I cross-checked some of them online, I actually found a spot with that practice.”

“Which place?” I asked.

Mary paused, then answered, “It’s a custom from Wanghu Village, which is also in Dongxing City. There, people divide death into ‘normal’ and ‘wrongful.’ If it’s a normal death, you burn yellow paper. But if someone died unjustly, you burn black paper. They believe a wrongful death ends a life before its time and those spirits can’t reincarnate. Burning yellow paper for them means nothing gets through.”

“Wanghu Village?” I glanced at Gu Chen and the corpse behind him. “Mary, the Red Mill Factory isn’t in Xingdong Village, is it?”

Mary replied, “I couldn’t trace that part. All I could find online was a post about buying bowls made by the old Red Mill Factory. There was even some information on Wu Xiufen there. But as for the factory’s exact location, you’d have to ask Wu Xiufen—though that’s obviously not an option anymore.”

I shook my head, staring at Wu Xiufen—she’d never speak again.

“Alright,” I told Mary. “If you can, see whether the Red Mill Factory was ever in Wanghu Village.”

“If I find anything, I’ll let you know,” she promised before hanging up.

But as soon as the call ended, a thought hit me.

“So Mary said: black paper for wrongful deaths, yellow for natural ones…”