Meng Qianzi put the paring knife back on the plate. “Who did it? Do you have any leads?”
Meng Jinsong didn’t know how to explain. Wei Biao had been stung by wasps and wouldn’t be getting up for at least a couple of hours, so he wasn’t the culprit. When everyone had rushed in, he was still tied up under the eaves like a zongzi dumpling—no time to commit the crime. Kuang Meiying was so frightened she was nearly paralyzed, and as a frail woman, the idea that she could take down Liu Sheng was pure fantasy. As for Jiang Lian, he had been behaving like someone possessed the entire time, without even the strength to fight back when kicked down—accusing him of murder seemed rather far-fetched as well…
Could there have been a fourth person in the building at that time?
“Kuang Meiying was doused with two buckets of cold water and came to, but she seems traumatized. She either avoids answering questions or just cries. Being a woman, it doesn’t feel right to force answers out of her physically…”
Meng Qianzi pondered. “It’s probably not her. She has no martial skills. To take down Liu Sheng with a single move would require someone with Jiang Lian’s abilities at minimum.”
Liu Guanguo’s face reddened as if he wanted to say something but held back. Meng Qianzi noticed but decided not to address it yet. “What about Jiang Lian?”
“We’ve beaten him and doused him with water, but he’s still half-asleep. Qiu Dong is still trying to figure out a way to know what happened to Liu Sheng, We need to question these two before drawing any preliminary conclusions.”
That made sense. At times like this, the worst approach was jumping to hasty conclusions. The more urgent the situation, the steadier one needed to be.
Meng Qianzi finally turned to Liu Guanguo. “What were you about to say earlier?”
Liu Guanguo was visibly agitated. “Miss Meng, don’t let these people fool you. They might all be putting on an act. That Jiang Lian probably killed someone and is now pretending to be in a trance that he can’t be woken from. That woman is his accomplice, acting terrified just to make us believe they had nothing to do with this.”
Meng Qianzi remained noncommittal. “If they were the killers, why wouldn’t they escape while we hadn’t noticed, instead of shouting and drawing us all over?”
Liu Guanguo responded bitterly, “We have sentries posted outside—how could they escape? That Wei Biao was taken down by us and is downstairs. They didn’t want to abandon their companion. Besides, running would be an admission of guilt, essentially declaring themselves enemies of the Mountain Ghost… So they took a dangerous gamble. If they could just fool us, they would eliminate any future trouble.”
Meng Qianzi remained silent.
It wasn’t impossible. One impossible to wake, the other screaming then fainting—both performances were quite convincing. Perhaps it was all an act put on for her benefit.
Xin Ci listened from the side, feeling chills run down his spine. Damn, could people be this devious? This world was far too complicated.
Amid this silence, the message alert on a phone rang out abruptly. Meng Jinsong opened it to check.
The message was from Qiu Dong. Though he could have simply come upstairs to report, being alone guarding three people, he couldn’t leave his post out of caution.
Meng Jinsong held the phone in front of Meng Qianzi.
—Meng Assistant, Jiang Lian is awake. He says there’s been a misunderstanding and wants to speak with our highest authority to clear things up.
Indeed, things needed clarification.
After a moment’s thought, Meng Qianzi instructed Meng Jinsong, “You go. Tell him what Liu Guanguo said. If he can defend himself, I’ll give him a chance to speak. If not…”
If not, they would keep him confined. Better to wrongfully detain than wrongfully release.
Meng Jinsong was gone for quite a while, giving her ample time to examine the drawings.
Each sheet of paper had a date on it. Meng Jinsong had already arranged them in chronological order. The earlier drawings were cruder, with characters and scenery appearing fragmented and scattered. The later ones were better, showing complete compositions.
Piecing several sheets together confirmed what they had suspected: a transport caravan had been raided by bandits, and the family members traveling with them had also met a tragic end.
Xin Ci leaned in to look, sighing repeatedly. After all, he had met this woman last night, and familiarity breeds connection, so they could be considered acquainted now. “She’s seeking revenge, isn’t she? Looking for the truth behind a murder case from eighty or ninety years ago? If you ask me, she should let it go. It’s been so many years, the culprits are long dead. Why be so obsessed…”
As he spoke, the sound of multiple footsteps came from outside.
Xin Ci perked up.
They had arrived.
Jiang Lian had indeed been beaten severely. His cheek was swollen, his lip split, and his clothes were soaking wet as he was escorted in with his hands bound behind his back by Qiu Dong and Liu Guanguo, one on each side, and pushed down onto a stool at the table.
Meng Jinsong approached first, whispering in Meng Qianzi’s ear, “He says he took the item but didn’t think much of it, just put it on the table.”
Meng Qianzi didn’t even raise her eyelids. “Was it on the table?”
Of course it wasn’t.
Meng Jinsong took his position behind her without another word. Qiu Dong and Liu Guanguo, knowing their presence was inappropriate, quickly left and closed the door.
Meng Qianzi studied Jiang Lian carefully.
Earlier, she had seen someone half-dead; now, she saw someone wide awake. The eyes reveal one’s spirit, and the difference was significant.
Though beaten and bound with his life hanging in the balance, he showed no signs of fear. Perhaps due to his injuries, he was breathing painfully, yet still had the presence of mind to survey the room before finally settling his gaze on Meng Qianzi.
After looking at her for a moment, he surprisingly smiled and said, “So it’s you.”
Then added, “You shouldn’t keep your eye covered like that. It doesn’t allow air to circulate. Taking the bandage off would help it heal faster.”
Meng Jinsong thought this fellow was asking for trouble. Did he not realize how her eye had been injured? He dared to joke about it? While Meng Qianzi occasionally teased others, she certainly didn’t appreciate being teased herself, especially by someone who had caused her harm.
Sure enough, Meng Qianzi said, “Is that so?”
She picked up the small paring knife, ran her fingers over it a few times, and then suddenly flung it straight at Jiang Lian’s forehead.
The move was so unexpected that Xin Ci let out a startled “Ah!” Jiang Lian’s expression changed as well, but his reactions were quick. With a sharp tilt of his head, the knife grazed past his ear and embedded itself in the wooden wall opposite, its handle still quivering.
Jiang Lian was no longer smiling.
Meng Qianzi said, “Can we talk properly now?”
Jiang Lian was silent for a few seconds, then smiled again and nodded readily. “Yes.”
“Then speak.”
“I need to start from the beginning. I’m afraid you might not have the patience.”
Meng Qianzi leaned back. “I have plenty of patience. I can even have dinner, midnight snacks, and tomorrow’s breakfast prepared, as long as you have that much to say.”
Jiang Lian wanted to say “That won’t be necessary, I’m not that long-winded,” but seeing Meng Qianzi’s cold expression and remembering the paring knife, he decided it was better to be straightforward.
“Last night was a misunderstanding. I didn’t know who you were or what your background was. I was originally setting bait there to fish for the lantern paintings…”
He called the Mountain Mirage “lantern paintings.”
Meng Qianzi interrupted, “What’s your relationship with the corpse walkers?”
Jiang Lian’s eyes flickered slightly, but his expression remained unchanged. “Corpse walkers? The ones who transport the dead? No relationship. I’ve heard a lot about them but have never seen them with my own eyes.”
“Then who taught you to fish for these lantern paintings?”
Jiang Lian hesitated for a moment, but knew that having fallen into their hands, he needed to share some truth to gain their trust. “My godfather.”
“What’s his name?”
“Kuang Tongsheng.”
Kuang Tongsheng—the same surname as Kuang Meiying. It seemed they were blood relatives.
Meng Qianzi felt the name was strangely familiar. She turned to Meng Jinsong. “Why does the name Kuang Tongsheng feel like I’ve heard it somewhere in the last day or two…”
Meng Jinsong, truly worthy of his role as a great secretary with his excellent memory for all manner of details, thought briefly and had the answer: “Lou Hong mentioned it. In their sect, there was a branch with the surname Huang, and that man was called Huang Tongsheng, the same name but a different surname from this Kuang Tongsheng.”
Now she remembered. It was said that in the 1940s, Huang Tongsheng had taken a job as a corpse walker and encountered Japanese soldiers near Changsha. He was killed by a burst of gunfire, and his body was left to rot with no one to claim it.
Interesting, the same name.
Meng Qianzi didn’t believe much in coincidences. “How old is this godfather of yours?”
“One hundred and six.”
In the 1940s, Huang Tongsheng would have been in his prime. If he had truly survived until now, he would indeed be over a hundred years old.
Meng Qianzi was about seventy to eighty percent certain: Huang Tongsheng had probably been injured in the attack but hadn’t died. He had used the false news of his death to retire from the profession.
Those in the corpse-walking profession were very reluctant to let others know about their occupation. Just imagine—if your neighbors knew you transported the dead for a living, could they still live harmoniously next door to you?
Most corpse walkers entered the profession due to poverty. Moreover, practitioners had to remain virgins, unable to marry or have children. Chinese people generally cared a great deal about having descendants, so the vast majority of corpse walkers, after accumulating some capital, would consider retiring to live a normal life.
To sever ties with the past, they would often change their names and move to different locations, then marry and have children. Many would never mention their corpse-walking experiences for the rest of their lives—even their sons wouldn’t know what their fathers had done for a living.
Unexpectedly, a twist of fate had solved the old case of Huang Tongsheng.
“So why are you fishing for these lantern paintings?”
Jiang Lian shrugged. “That’s a private matter and has nothing to do with your affairs.”
One thing at a time. Meng Qianzi truly had no interest in prying into others’ secrets, so she didn’t press the issue and gestured for him to continue.
“I had finished fishing, and the rain was about to stop, so I was getting ready to leave when you all arrived. I found it quite strange, so I eavesdropped for a while.”
In the wilderness, it was impossible to get too close. Jiang Lian had heard only bits and pieces, never fully understanding who these three people were. But one thing was clear: these people called the lantern paintings “Mountain Mirage,” saying something about the mirage arising from a pearl, and that where there’s a mirage, there must be a mirage pearl, which they intended to fish away.
This directly concerned him: he was fishing for these lantern paintings to investigate an important matter. The investigation had barely begun, and now these people wanted to take the mirage pearl away—how could he continue his work?
He explained simply, “I don’t know what a mirage pearl is, or whether such a thing exists—but I decided to believe it might. So I waited nearby, hoping you would fail. If you couldn’t fish it out, then there would be no problem.”
Xin Ci inwardly clicked his tongue: Meng Qianzi had failed several times last night.
He imagined the scene of her failing each time with Jiang Lian clapping and cheering from the shadows, and thought this person deserved a beating.
“But surprisingly, you caught it. I couldn’t decide what to do, so I secretly followed you, planning to find an opportunity to take it back, not take it back, just return the mirage pearl to its original place. As luck would have it, one of you was frightened by the bait I had hung…”
At this point, he smiled at Xin Ci. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
Xin Ci’s cheeks burned, remembering the blow to the back of his head. He couldn’t help but feel angry, thinking this man’s smile was extremely hateful.
“You know what happened next. I knocked him out at the bottom of the slope. I had planned to swap the items, taking the mirage pearl when you weren’t paying attention and running off. But as soon as I got close, I was exposed…”
He looked at Meng Qianzi. “You struck so fiercely that I had no chance to explain. Not wanting to be beaten, I had no choice but to fight back.”
In truth, he did have a chance to speak—he wasn’t missing a mouth. During the fight, he could have shouted, “This is a misunderstanding!” But having already been hit once, he couldn’t be bothered. Besides, he didn’t think these people were the type to listen to reason. Since the fight had started, he might as well fight—who was afraid of whom?
What he never expected was that a single woman would be able to hold him back.
“There were more of you, and continuing to fight would have been disadvantageous for me. Desperate to escape, I had to use the wolf spray. I only had that on me, originally intended as protection against wild animals at night in the mountains.”
Meng Jinsong scoffed. “If you were worried about encountering wild animals in the mountains, wouldn’t a gun or knife be more appropriate? Why just wolf spray?”
Jiang Lian glanced at him. “Wild animals haven’t done anything to provoke—you’re entering their territory. Bringing guns or knives inevitably leads to bloodshed and death. What deep grudge would that be? Wolf spray is relatively gentle—one spray and it’s done. If it can drive them away, isn’t that enough? Even when used on humans…”
He turned to Meng Qianzi. “…it only causes swelling for a few days, and the anger passes without creating a deadly feud. Of course, I was fortunate to run fast. If I had been shot down, killed, or maimed, that would have been a feud not easily resolved.”
Meng Jinsong felt embarrassed. At that moment when the situation was unclear, he should have shown more restraint. The old saying goes, “Leave some leeway when acting, to meet again in future days.” Like with Meng Qianzi’s eye, if it had been permanently damaged, it would have become a blood feud that would be pursued to the end. Who would care whether it was a misunderstanding? His hasty firing of the gun had been somewhat reckless. If Jiang Lian chose to make an issue of it, he would have no defense.
But Jiang Lian made his point and moved on without dwelling on it. He gave a slight bow and showed Meng Qianzi his beaten state. “Besides, you beat me pretty badly then, and I’ve been thoroughly beaten again today… For this episode, can we call it even?”
Meng Qianzi took a few seconds before nodding. “For this episode, we can call it even.”
Jiang Lian let out a sigh, knowing that in terms of severity, “this episode” was just the appetizer. Whether he could convince her about “the next episode” was the key.
But that was fine—clearing one episode at a time was progress.
After considering his words, he continued in chronological order: “This Mr. Meng kept asking about the chain. Your chain was tied to the edge of the glass jar, and I didn’t notice at the time—I grabbed it all together. Later, you shattered the jar, and your companion was firing behind me. I was only focused on escaping, too tense to realize I still had the chain in my hand. By the time I realized… I couldn’t exactly run back to return it to you.”
Meng Qianzi made a sound of acknowledgment, indicating that this explanation was acceptable.
“But I also guessed that you weren’t ordinary people. There are many capable individuals in Western Hunan, and I feared I might have provoked forces I shouldn’t have. Seeing the talisman pattern on the chain, I thought it might be a clue, so I asked Old Ga to help me inquire about it.”
“Weren’t you afraid that would lead people to your door?”
“I did have that concern, but then I thought, surely my luck couldn’t be that bad—it was just a talisman pattern, probably common everywhere. What were the chances that Old Ga would happen to ask at your place, that you would recognize it, and then track me down? How low must those odds be?”
A trace of melancholy crossed his face.
Perhaps he was lamenting that his luck was that bad.