Zhang Da had cried out before he realized he had overreacted. Though he tried to rein himself in, excitement still flickered in his eyes.

He pulled Shi Ting aside to a secluded spot and asked in a low voice, “Brother, where exactly did you dig up the body?”

“I can’t quite remember.” Shi Ting strained to recall. “It was to the west, I think. Oh — there was something like a red-barked poplar tree.”

“A red-barked poplar? This forest is all white poplars. Where would a red-barked poplar come from?”

“Suit yourself if you don’t believe me.” Shi Ting sounded a little irritated. “All I know is I saw a red-barked poplar, and then I dug up a body underneath it.”

He spat to one side. “What terrible luck. I can’t stay here anymore. We’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning. And who knows what that body is — if someone was murdered, it might well turn into a vengeful spirit and come after people.”

After listening to him ramble for a while, Zhang Da reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold fountain pen, pressing it into Shi Ting’s hand. “Brother, don’t say a word about this to anyone. This pen is yours.”

Shi Ting turned it over in his hands, admiring it like a prized treasure. “Now that’s a fine thing.”

Zhang Da smiled. “So then — not a word to anyone.”

“Agreed.” Shi Ting nodded. “You’ve given me something this good. Naturally I won’t tell anyone. And besides, who’d want to go around talking about something like this? It’s bad luck.”

Zhang Da gave a cold, inward laugh, seeing how easily impressed Shi Ting seemed.

That evening the innkeeper cooked a pot of braised fish, and at dinner Zhang Da was in such fine spirits that he had the innkeeper open a bottle of spirits.

He sat alone at the table, pouring and drinking for himself, thoroughly enjoying it.

When Shi Ting went to use the outhouse, someone followed him. As he stood beside the outhouse, that person came to stand beside him as well.

“Brother, before dinner I saw you and that bald fellow exchanging whispers. What were you two talking about?” The one speaking was Li Youcai from room one.

Shi Ting said, “Nothing much.”

Li Youcai glanced around to confirm no one was nearby, then pressed a silver dollar into Shi Ting’s hand and gave him a wink.

Shi Ting happily pocketed the silver dollar and said quietly, “I dug up a dead body out in the woods.”

Li Youcai’s eyes lit up. “Do you remember where?”

“Beneath a red-barked poplar tree.”

After dinner, Shi Ting and Yan Qing returned to their room. The guests in all four other rooms also withdrew to their own quarters, and the small inn fell quiet all at once.

Around midnight, a few cries rang out intermittently from the poplar grove, and everything seemed to have sunk into deep slumber.

The beam of a flashlight came from the distance, sweeping over the dark grass.

A small bird was startled from its branch, spreading its wings and flying deep into the woods.

Someone with a flashlight had entered the forest, shining the beam here and there.

“Damn it, where’s the red-barked poplar?” the person muttered under their breath, spitting with frustration. “Is this some kind of trick?”

The figure moved through the forest with uneven steps, searching for the red tree. Just when they were nearly ready to give up, the flashlight beam landed on something — and there, suddenly visible, was a tree with bark completely red.

Their eyes lit up, and they broke into a quick run toward it.

The bark of this poplar was covered in red moss, making it look as though it had been wrapped in a layer of red hide.

They clamped the flashlight between their teeth and began swinging a hoe into the ground beneath the tree.

After about half an hour of digging, a corner of fabric became faintly visible in the pit. Overjoyed, they swung the hoe faster.

Just as they were drenched in sweat, a beam of light shone directly onto their face. The person recoiled in shock, hastily throwing up a hand to shield their face.

“It’s you?” The one who had come was Li Youcai from room one — and the one wielding the hoe was Zhang Da from room two.

“What are you doing here?” Zhang Da was startled, then a thought struck him. “Did that country bumpkin tell you?”

“Ha. If there’s money to be made, we share it. Don’t try to keep it all for yourself.”

Zhang Da’s eyes shifted. He smiled. “Since you’ve found this place too, we dig together. We split the money evenly.”

Li Youcai came forward and started digging alongside Zhang Da.

Watching Li Youcai dig with such enthusiasm, Zhang Da quietly moved around behind him. He raised the hoe and was about to bring it down on Li Youcai’s head — but at that very moment, the sound of footsteps came from not far away, and Zhang Da immediately dropped the hoe in fright.

Qian Jin from room three and Wu Yiwei and Zhang Qiu from room four came crashing out of the woods one after another. Catching sight of Zhang Da and Li Youcai, everyone froze at the same moment.

“That little wretch,” Zhang Da swore. “Took my things and still couldn’t keep his mouth shut — acts just like a woman.”

Wu Yiwei smiled. “He’s just a greedy country fellow. Knowing there was something to gain from sharing this secret, of course he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this.”

He and Zhang Qiu walked over. “Since we’ve all found it, let’s dig the body up together and exchange it for the reward. Ten thousand dollars — two thousand each. Fair and reasonable.”

Qian Jin said, “I don’t agree.”

Wu Yiwei frowned. “Why not?”

“You two come as a pair, so you only get one share. The rest of us split it four ways — two thousand five hundred each.”

“That’s right. I agree with that,” Zhang Da and Li Youcai said in unison.

Wu Yiwei wasn’t having it. “When we kidnapped Le Chenghua, there was no talk like this. Don’t forget — if my woman hadn’t lured Le Chenghua in, you’d never have had the chance to grab him.”

“Le Chenghua discovering who we were is also because of your woman,” Zhang Da said. “If she hadn’t let her veil slip and let Le Chenghua recognize her, we’d never have needed to kill anyone.”

Li Youcai picked up the thread. “If we’re going to say that her seducing Le Chenghua deserves more pay, then I’m the one who strangled Le Chenghua. I didn’t see anyone giving me extra for that.”

“You strangled Le Chenghua, but we all helped bury the body.”

Li Youcai gave a cold laugh. “And you have the nerve to bring that up — if you two had bothered to remember where you buried the body, we wouldn’t have had to dig up the entire forest. In the end we still had to rely on that country bumpkin just to find it.”

“Regardless, I don’t agree to splitting it four ways. Those present all get a share,” Wu Yiwei shouted. “If there’s money to be made, everyone benefits. If you don’t agree, fine — I’ll go without my share and report you all to the Military Police Bureau.”

“The Military Police Bureau? We’ve had this man buried for nearly three years and the Military Police Bureau still hasn’t come for us. What good would reporting us to them do?”

“All right, all right, enough arguing,” Zhang Da said. “The deadline is almost here. Dragging this out does nobody any good. Five shares it is — two thousand each. That’s not nothing.”

Qian Jin and Li Youcai were left with little choice and had no option but to agree.

Just as everyone was preparing to continue digging, a cool, calm voice rang out from the forest: “Since those present all get a share, shouldn’t I get one too?”

All five people startled, turning simultaneously toward the source of the voice.

Shi Ting pushed Yan Qing’s wheelchair forward through the moonlight. The flashlight in Yan Qing’s hand shone on the five stunned, panic-stricken faces.

“You — how are you two here?”

Shi Ting’s mouth curved slightly. “I’m the one who brought you all together here. Forgotten already?”

“This — was this all your arrangement?” The group exchanged baffled glances.

Zhang Da shouted, “What’s the meaning of this?”

“No deep meaning. I simply wanted to hear for myself how you kidnapped Le Chenghua, strangled him, and buried him here.”

“You — how did you know?” Several faces went pale.

“Deduction,” Shi Ting answered.

“You’re a kept man, a good-for-nothing country bumpkin — and you’re talking to us about deduction?”

Yan Qing glanced at Shi Ting with an amused look. “When exactly did you come up with this ‘kept man’ persona?”

Shi Ting felt too embarrassed to tell Yan Qing about the conversations he’d had with these people, and gave a light cough to cover his awkwardness.

“I only want to ask you one thing,” Shi Ting said, his gaze sharp and piercing. “Was it you who killed Shunzi?”

“Shunzi? Who’s Shunzi?”

“A dog.”

Zhang Da remembered. “That old forest warden’s dog? Yes, I killed it.”

“Why did you kill it?”

“Since you want to know, there’s no harm in telling you.” Li Youcai smiled coldly. “Call it satisfying the curiosity of a man who’s about to die. Back when we kidnapped Le Chenghua and brought him to this poplar grove, we planned to use it as a base to extort money from him. That day there happened to be heavy rain, so we took shelter at the old forest warden’s place. For some reason, that dog took a liking to Le Chenghua — it stayed by his side the whole time, and even followed us for quite a distance after we left. In the end the old man called it back.”

Qian Jin continued, “When we came back to the forest this time to look for Le Chenghua’s body, we ran into that dog again unexpectedly. It started barking the moment it saw us. Zhang Da was afraid it would recognize us and ruin our plans, so he beat it to death with a hoe.”

When Shunzi had first met Le Chenghua three years ago, the two had taken to each other immediately. Even three years later, it had not forgotten. When it saw these people, it must have thought they were Le Chenghua’s friends — its barking was only its way of asking where Le Chenghua had gone.

Thinking of the body lying in that muddy pit, Yan Qing felt a wave of sorrow rise within her, quickly replaced by fury. A dog could feel such loyalty, yet these people had not a shred of compassion.

“Do you know,” Shi Ting said, “that it was Shunzi who led us to Le Chenghua’s body? Or perhaps it was Le Chenghua’s own doing — watching over you all from beyond, waiting for the day you would face justice.”

As the name Le Chenghua was spoken, a cold gust swept through the grove. The leaves rustled with a rushing sound, and a crow let out a shrill cry as it flew overhead.

Zhang Qiu trembled and pressed herself behind Wu Yiwei, her back going icy cold.

“Could there really be a ghost?”

“What ghost,” Zhang Da snapped, his eyes bloodshot. He pointed at the pit before them. “Le Chenghua’s bones have been rotting in there for three years. Even if he became a ghost, there are so many of us — are we going to be afraid of him? Don’t let these two fool you. They’re just trying to scare us off so they can take Le Chenghua’s body for themselves and claim that ten-thousand-dollar reward.”

“That’s right.” Qian Jin and Li Youcai also bared their teeth in ugly expressions. “Whatever they’re plotting, the spot where Le Chenghua is buried is going to be their new grave.”

Wu Yiwei swung the hoe in his hand, teeth clenched. “Brother, don’t blame us for this. Blame yourself for being too greedy, for minding other people’s business.”

The five exchanged looks, then charged toward Shi Ting with their tools raised.

—