Wan Fenghuo coughed twice: “So what happened next?”
Li Tan immediately followed up: “The Luoma Lake case—was that what he revealed as he was dying? Did he only mention this one case?”
Cen Chunjiao glanced at Li Tan and replied: “Not just this one, but each case has its price, you understand.”
Li Tan’s expression darkened, while Mu Dai found it somewhat amusing, thinking that this Cen Chunjiao certainly understood how to sell information in segments.
Cen Chunjiao continued.
At that moment, I was stunned. I didn’t believe what he was saying—what criminal would randomly tell these things to a stranger?
After a moment’s hesitation, I still thought I should find the old doorkeeper to give me courage. Just as I was about to take a step, the man let out a long exhale and went silent.
I turned to look at him. His eyes were wide open, his mouth half-open, but he truly made no more sounds. I didn’t dare approach to check—I was afraid that if I got close, like in the movies, he might suddenly jump up or bite me, which would scare me to death.
I ran to find the old doorkeeper, calling out as I ran. Before I reached the end of the corridor, the old doorkeeper appeared on his own. Someone was also knocking from inside one of the rooms, yelling at me to be quiet in the middle of the night.
At this point, Cen Chunjiao sighed deeply and looked around at everyone present.
“Do you know those old-style small hotels?” She gestured with her hands to show everyone. Rooms are on both sides of the corridor, one end of the corridor is sealed off, and the other leads to the front desk. When I say I didn’t reach the end of the corridor, I mean I was still in the corridor the whole time, and no other guests came out during this period.”
“After the doorkeeper came over, I quickly pulled him to that room to see…”
Cen Chunjiao paused: “I know you might not believe what I’m about to say, but I’m telling the truth.”
With such solemnity, there must have been something unusual in the room. Ma Tuwen was listening intently, his imagination running wild: “The corpse was gone? Or had he come back to life?”
“No, the corpse was still there, and he was dead, but his left foot was missing.”
For a second or two, no one spoke.
His left foot was missing?
Mu Dai, holding her chopsticks, had long forgotten about picking up food. She instinctively asked: “Missing how?”
“Cut off, but the wound wasn’t particularly clean—the cut was rough, with flesh and tissue torn. Of course, these weren’t my observations, but what I later found out from a forensic examiner through a friend.”
Mu Dai finally understood why Cen Chunjiao had described the hotel corridor situation in such detail earlier: hotel corridors aren’t very long, and Cen Chunjiao was gone for only a short time. In such a brief period, for someone to sneak into the deceased’s room, cut off his left foot, and then silently leave—it sounded like an otherworldly tale.
Ma Tuwen was the first to lose patience: “Sister, are you making this up?”
Li Tan let out a cold laugh, spitting out two words through clenched teeth: “Fake.”
Cen Chunjiao seemed to have anticipated this reaction and answered calmly: “After the police were called, every guest in the hotel was individually screened, and our hotel was closed for half a month. This wasn’t a secret locally—Mr. Wan’s colleagues are capable people who can verify this. I also gave a statement, though I didn’t mention that peculiar middle part to anyone, partly out of fear and partly to avoid trouble.”
Ma Tuwen fell silent. On reflection, it made sense—the man died and left a corpse. Whether the left foot was missing or not could be easily verified; there would be no point in fabricating such a detail.
Li Tan’s face still wore a mocking expression: “I’m not saying this incident is fake. Perhaps a man did die in your small hotel at that time, and perhaps his left foot was indeed mysteriously cut off. But this whole matter, including the deceased, has no connection to the Luoma Lake case.”
He looked arrogantly at Wan Fenghuo: “Mr. Wan, I paid for information on the Luoma Lake case. I have no interest in any other case, no matter how bizarre.”
Cen Chunjiao was losing her composure: “What do you mean?”
But Li Tan seemed too disdainful to engage with her further and turned to Mu Dai and Ma Tuwen: “We’re all buyers here. I won’t pay for false information. What do you two think?”
What an unexpected turn of events. Originally thinking she was just here to listen to a story, Mu Dai hadn’t anticipated this development. She felt unable to make this decision and looked at Wan Fenghuo: “How about we take a break? Let us think about it?”
During the intermission, Mu Dai retreated to the back door of the hotpot restaurant and called Huo Zihong to explain the situation. After listening, Huo Zihong made a sound of acknowledgment and, after a moment, said: “It is indeed false.”
Mu Dai remained silent. She thought that if she were Wan Fenghuo, she would be furious with both Huo Zihong and Li Tan: on the surface, they appeared to be seeking information, but in reality…
Huo Zihong seemed to sense Mu Dai’s thoughts: “The professors who died back then—the couple both had the surname Li. The male Professor Li once taught me. I’ve been paying attention to this matter for a long time, not just asking for information through Wan Fenghuo… What Cen Chunjiao said is too obviously fake.”
“So, should we pay or not?”
Huo Zihong’s answer surprised her: “Pay. I asked Mr. Wan to investigate, and I don’t want him to think I’m concealing the truth. Also, Mu Dai, please keep an eye on that Li Tan for me.”
Mu Dai wanted to ask something, but ultimately swallowed her questions. As she hung up, she felt troubled—something was strange about the whole situation, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
On her way back, Mu Dai saw Ma Tuwen also making a phone call in a corner. As she passed by, she deliberately moved closer and caught a fragment: “So should I pay or not?”
Mu Dai immediately found this amusing, suddenly feeling that today’s gathering was quite entertaining.
When the break ended, Wan Fenghuo came out to manage the situation, asking each buyer for their opinion. Li Tan held firm to his view, while Ma Tuwen coughed twice and pretended to be thoughtful: “After careful analysis, I feel that Ms. Cen’s information is valuable, and I am willing to pay.”
Careful analysis? Did you analyze anything yourself? Mu Dai suppressed a laugh and nodded to Wan Fenghuo: “Pay.”
Cen Chunjiao’s face lit up with joy, and Wan Fenghuo also breathed a slight sigh of relief. He said to Li Tan, “Two to one, the minority follows the majority. You know the rules.”
Li Tan’s face alternated between red and white. Mu Dai thought he might explode in anger, but surprisingly, after a moment, he suddenly smiled and leaned back in his chair: “It’s just money, fine, I’ll pay.”
With the deal concluded to everyone’s satisfaction, Cen Chunjiao, now in a good mood, suddenly remembered something: “Oh, right, when that man checked into the hotel, I saw his registration information. His name was Liu Shuhai, from Jinan, born in 1972.”
Li Tan wasn’t at all interested in when the man was born and simply looked at Mu Dai and Ma Tuwen with a cold smile, as if they were fools.
As the gathering disbanded, Wan Fenghuo invited everyone to stay temporarily at his partner hotel, saying that based on Cen Chunjiao’s information, local colleagues would follow up, and there might be new discoveries. Staying close by would make it convenient to meet at any time.
Free accommodation—why not? Only Ma Tuwen shook his head, saying he had a place to stay in Chongqing and was particular about beds, not accustomed to sleeping in hotels.
Mu Dai recalled that when she first entered the private room, Wan Fenghuo had asked if she was “Miss Huo Zihong.” So who was the person behind this Ma Tuwen?
The answer surprised her. Wan Fenghuo confidently stated, “It’s Mr. Ma Tuwen himself. It has always been him.”
Wan Fenghuo’s partner hotel matched its owner—absurdly vintage, with white walls, gray tiles, drooping flower gates, and even a shrine to the God of Wealth just inside the entrance…
Wait, not the God of Wealth. Mu Dai moved closer to look carefully and discovered that the shrine housed a figure of a scholar, his right hand behind his back, holding a scroll.
Wan Fenghuo enthusiastically introduced: “This is the patriarch of our profession, Bai Xiaosheng…”
He was about to say more when his phone received a message. Wan Fenghuo skillfully typed a reply, the large sleeves of his robe swaying beside the phone.
Mu Dai couldn’t help but smile: “Since you’ve gone this far with the vintage theme, why not go all the way? Why use a mobile phone?”
Wan Fenghuo disagreed: “Young lady, that’s not right. Everything can be vintage except for two things that must keep up with the times.”
“Which two?”
Wan Fenghuo held up two fingers and lowered one: “First is money. Honestly, I prefer real gold and silver. Banknotes are just printed paper, and holding them doesn’t feel secure. These past two years have been even more virtual—electronic currency, all this shaking, scanning, swiping—they won’t even let you touch paper anymore. But there’s no choice; the whole world is doing it this way.”
“And the second thing?”
Wan Fenghuo didn’t lower his other finger but instead waved his phone in front of her eyes: “Information and communication. Put your hand on your heart and tell me, can you live without it?”
Mu Dai thought for a moment, then shook her head.
Wan Fenghuo looked pleased: “I knew it. You young people now treat your phones as if they’re your life. I have a friend whose brain…”
Wan Fenghuo tapped his head: “His brain works differently from others. He likes to research strange and supernatural things—not feudal superstition, but real research. He frequently conducts field investigations, specifically visiting eerie, remote places. Even when computers and USB drives became commonplace, he still took notes by hand. After more than twenty years of field investigations, he had so many notebooks that they needed to be stored in gunny sacks. He didn’t use a mobile phone either, saying it wasn’t necessary. It was quite troublesome to find him during that period. I scolded him several times, but he insisted on not using one, saying it wasn’t necessary. But later, he started using one anyway.”
Mu Dai was curious: “Did you convince him to change his mind?”
“Not exactly…” Wan Fenghuo cleared his throat. “Later, he became the best man at his friend’s wedding, and the groom gave him one… But that’s not the point. The point is, everyone needs to communicate information externally, and keeping up with the times is inevitable.”