Bai Jin raised the question of whether Zhu San’s death was connected to the theft of the Qiao brothers’ valuables.

Shi Ting answered: “Do you remember the receipts we found in Zhu San’s home? They showed that over the past three years, Zhu San had purchased three gold rings, two gold bracelets, and a gold necklace. But in our search, we found none of these items. How does a small-time hunter like Zhu San come by the money for such jewelry — and where did that jewelry go?”

Yan Qing said, “A man buys gold jewelry for one of two reasons — to hoard it, or to give it away. Since it wasn’t found in Zhu San’s home, he most likely gave it away, and the recipient was probably someone he was involved with.”

“According to the villagers, Zhu San was always alone with no romantic entanglements — at least not in Wuyin Village.” Shi Ting said. “But that only accounts for the village. Zhu San traveled regularly between Wenshan County and Wuyin Village and knew the county town better than almost anyone. My guess is that his companion was in Wenshan County, and was not a respectable woman.”

If the woman were ordinary, she could simply have followed Zhu San back to Wuyin Village to live a settled life. Since she never appeared here at all, the only explanation was that Zhu San’s connections were with women of the entertainment quarters — possibly more than one.

Zhu San frequented such establishments, and being perpetually short of money, the sight of wealth had driven him to kill. That was the motive.

“Don’t forget the big tiled house Old Li’s family built. Three years ago, where that house now stands there were only a few mud-brick rooms. The village children even made up a little rhyme about it — it went: ‘East end of the village, a ramshackle house, Old Li lives in it, quiet as a mouse.'”

“That’s right.” Bai Jin clapped his hands together. “A brand-new tiled house costs a fair amount of money. That kind of spending doesn’t match Old Li’s income at all.”

“The village chief’s son, Da Zhu, and the general store owner, Old Zhang, were both gambling addicts. They didn’t just play mahjong in the village — under Zhu San’s lead they’d go to the county seat to gamble as well. It’s entirely possible that gambling debts gave them reason to set their sights on the Qiao brothers’ money.”

After Shi Ting laid out his analysis, everyone felt increasingly certain that the deaths of Zhu San and the others were bound up with the Qiao brothers.

Shi Ting said, “The Qiao brothers came to Wuyin Village to purchase Wugen — they couldn’t have walked here, and the villagers have confirmed as much. So where is their vehicle now?”

“Could it be that the Qiao brothers also brought a driver?”

Shi Ting shook his head. “If they had brought a driver, there’s no way that person would have gone a full month without being seen. What would he eat? What would he drink?”

“Could Zhu San and the others have quietly sold the car?”

“That’s not impossible.” Shi Ting said. “What I can’t make sense of is this: even if the Qiao brothers’ deaths are connected to Zhu San and his companions, who has been secretly killing Zhu San and the others? The Qiao brothers had no parents, no family — who would avenge them? This person not only knows the truth about the fire but is also intimately familiar with Wuyin Village.”

“Could it be a friend Qiao Sheng made here in the village?”

Bai Jin shook his head. “Qiao Sheng was a businessman and very careful about who he trusted. Besides, when we went house to house, we didn’t hear of him being particularly close with anyone — only that he knew some medicine and often gave villagers acupuncture treatments.”

“Maybe it’s a patient whose condition he treated, seeking revenge on his behalf out of gratitude.” Zheng Yun said it and immediately felt the reasoning was too thin.

The group racked their brains without reaching any conclusion. The case had hit a wall.

“Let’s eat first. We can keep investigating after dinner.” Yan Qing broke the heavy silence. “Tonight it’s mashed potatoes.”

Bai Jin perked up immediately at the mention of food. “Mashed potatoes — what’s that? Sixth Miss is truly something else. Even with something as plain as a potato, she finds a new way to make it. Whoever ends up marrying Sixth Miss someday is one lucky son of a—”

He stopped himself. The air around him seemed to drop several degrees in an instant. He shivered and jumped to his feet. “I’ll go gather firewood outside.”

Zheng Yun said, “I’ll come with you.”

Once the two had gone, Shi Ting asked, “What can I do to help?”

“There are still a few potatoes to peel.” She held out the potatoes and a knife as naturally as could be. “I’ll go prepare the other ingredients.”

By the time Yan Qing returned, Shi Ting had already finished peeling the potatoes. He had drawn water from the well and was crouched beside it, washing them.

Without his uniform, the man had a certain warmth to him — an everyday quality. True to form in everything he did, he was washing potatoes with the same focused care he brought to all things.

She was looking at him when he finished washing the last potato, lifted the basin, and walked toward her.

His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, revealing a section of forearm — healthy in color, with lean, firm muscle.

“All washed.” He looked as though he was hoping for her approval.

Yan Qing smiled. “Then could I trouble you to put them in the pot?”

“Of course.” Shi Ting walked to the stove, which was already filled with water, and arranged the potatoes inside one by one.

Bai Jin, tending the fire, teased him: “Seventh Brother, you’ve lined those potatoes up as neatly as we stand in formation.”

Once the potatoes were steamed, Yan Qing mashed them thoroughly and stirred in the seasonings she had already prepared. Fresh mashed potatoes — done.

After everyone had eaten, the village was once again swallowed by fog. It thickened gradually until it had completely surrounded the small settlement.

Shi Ting believed Old Zhang was the key to the whole case, but Old Zhang had been in a daze since the previous day — as though badly frightened. Going to question him now would clearly yield nothing useful.

“If only we could find the Qiao brothers’ bodies.” Yan Qing sat in her wheelchair, gazing into the fog before her. It was hard to imagine that the people of this village faced conditions like this for more than two hundred days a year.

Before the might of nature, human beings seemed so small — yet they continued to do everything in their power to adapt and to survive.

Yan Qing’s words passed through Shi Ting’s mind like a flash of light. Like something dazzling that, upon exploding, illuminated what lay hidden in the darkness.

He stood up suddenly. “There’s something important we’ve been overlooking.”

Zheng Yun and Bai Jin both looked over in excitement.

But Shi Ting didn’t reveal his answer immediately. Instead, he spoke in a calm, measured tone. “When we first arrived in the village, that farmwoman mentioned something to us — and that same thing came up repeatedly in other villagers’ accounts as well.”

His deep gaze seemed to pierce through the heavy fog and reach toward Kui Mountain in the distance. “The Mountain Demon shrine.”

Bai Jin shot to his feet. “I understand now. Everyone says that Kui Mountain never had a Mountain Demon shrine before — the Mountain Demon is only a folk legend. But three years ago, a shrine appeared on the mountain out of nowhere. And from the moment it appeared, Wuyin Village has been struck by one disaster after another. Everyone knows the shrine is the source of the trouble, yet no one dares do anything about it.”

Shi Ting picked up his uniform jacket from beside him. “If my guess is correct, what we’re looking for is buried beneath that Mountain Demon shrine.”

There was no time to waste. The group set off at once for Kui Mountain.

When they reached the foot of Kui Mountain, they discovered the slope was extremely steep with virtually no existing path to follow — which explained why people frequently tumbled into ravines and came away crippled.

Yan Qing looked up at the mountain peak shrouded in thick fog and knew she had no way of making the climb. She volunteered to stay behind.

For safety, Shi Ting left Murong at the foot of the mountain to protect Yan Qing, while he led Zheng Yun, Bai Jin, E’Yuan, and Jianguo up the mountain in search of the shrine.

According to the villagers, the Mountain Demon shrine was somewhere on Kui Mountain. As for exactly where it stood, they would have to search.

Shi Ting was not a man of many words, but he still reminded Yan Qing more than once to stay safe before he left.

Once their figures had faded into the mist and disappeared, Murong scanned the surroundings and wrinkled her brow. “Miss, doesn’t it feel rather ominous here?”

The fog here was truly unsettling — damp and penetrating, seeping into everything. If it weren’t for the desire to be the first to see what they were looking for, Yan Qing wouldn’t have chosen to wait here either.

“It’s probably because there are so many graves on the mountain.” Yan Qing gazed toward the fog-obscured peak, barely visible through the haze. “When graves accumulate, some people start to feel an oppressive weight in the air. But it’s a psychological response — the more frightened you are, the more your imagination runs away with you.”

As she spoke, the grass nearby suddenly rustled. Murong startled and gripped the handles of Yan Qing’s wheelchair. “Miss, did you hear something?”

“I did.” Yan Qing looked toward the direction of the sound.

The two of them held their breath, and then a grey rabbit hopped out from behind the grass. Apparently unaware of the two people nearby, it bounced along at a leisurely pace and disappeared into another patch of undergrowth.

Murong let out a long breath. “Just a rabbit.”

She had seen tiger pelts and bear hides at Zhu San’s house and knew that Kui Mountain was home not only to wild rabbits and pheasants but also to large predators — animals that frequently came down the mountain to raid livestock and sometimes even attack people.

A rustling sound came again — very faint.

Murong was a trained fighter with sharp ears. She tightened her grip on the wheelchair and said in a low voice, “Miss, it sounds like footsteps to me.”

The fog was dense, visibility extremely low. If someone truly launched an attack, there would be no time to dodge.

“Murong, turn around.”

With a threat coming from that direction, leaving her back exposed would be the biggest vulnerability. The most reliable defense was back to back.

“But—”

“It’s all right. I can protect myself.” Yan Qing rested her hand lightly on the red button on the wheelchair.

Murong turned, her back against the wheelchair, alert to everything around her.

The rustling came again — this time seemingly a little closer than before.

“Who’s there — stop skulking around and show yourself!” Murong shouted in the direction of the sound, her voice sharp and forceful.

The moment her voice fell, Yan Qing gripped the button tightly.

The killer who had murdered Zhu San and the others was still at large, possibly hiding somewhere among them. To stop the Military Police Bureau from breaking the case, they might resort to killing witnesses.

Murong’s sharp shout — powered by a full breath of focused force — seemed to frighten off the intruder. After a few more rustles, something suddenly rolled out of the undergrowth, tumbling along the ground until it came to rest at Yan Qing’s feet.

—