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墨書 Inktalez
Zhang Ting fixed his piercing gaze on Old Zhang, who lay weakly on the ground, and shouted, "What’s the matter? Even in this state, you still refuse to reveal the truth?"
Old Zhang's face was as pale as paper, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word. It was no surprise; at his advanced age, his body was already frail, and after enduring forty lashes, how could he possibly have the strength to speak?
Seeing this, Zhang Ting furrowed his brow tightly and thought to himself: This man is so stubborn that it seems I’ll need to resort to extreme measures to make him confess.
With that thought, he slammed his hand down on the wooden table and called out loudly, "Clear the court!"
At his command, several Yayi rushed forward and lifted Old Zhang like a dead dog, dragging him straight toward the prison. The remaining Yayi filed out in an orderly manner, exiting the courtroom one after another.
Once everyone had dispersed, the vast courtroom became empty, leaving only Zhang Ting sitting quietly at the table. His face was filled with worry.
He knew that all current leads pointed unambiguously to the Da Chuan Fabric Store run by Old Zhang, yet Old Zhang stubbornly refused to acknowledge any wrongdoing, displaying an attitude of defiance even in the face of death.
Faced with such a stalemate, Zhang Ting found himself at a loss for how to break through this impasse and obtain crucial evidence for a conviction. He stood in the courtroom with his brow furrowed, pondering deeply for a long time before finally deciding to launch a new investigation.
By now, time had quietly slipped into the afternoon hours, and sunlight filtered weakly through the clouds. He led his trusted confidants carefully through the streets and alleys until they arrived at the site of what was once a thriving Da Chuan Fabric Store but had now turned into ruins.
The sight before him was shocking; the entire Da Chuan Fabric Store seemed to have endured a terrible catastrophe, ravaged by fierce flames that left it unrecognizable. The air was thick with the acrid smell of charred remains among the crumbling walls.
Zhang Ting looked at the devastation and couldn't help but feel disheartened. However, knowing the gravity of his responsibility, he took a deep breath and calmly instructed, "You all stay back for now and do not move recklessly. I will personally go in to take a look."
With that said, he resolutely stepped into the dilapidated Da Chuan Fabric Store. Inside, he found himself treading on scorched wooden planks and ashes; the surrounding walls had long been blackened by smoke.
Looking around, aside from the piles of charred debris on the ground, it was nearly impossible to discern anything of value. Yet in this challenging environment, Zhang Ting's keen insight allowed him to notice something unusual.
In an inconspicuous corner of the wall seemed to hide something secretive. It was originally covered by a large piece of heavily burnt wood; if one did not observe closely, it would be difficult to notice its presence. Perhaps it was due to negligence that the previous Yayi had overlooked this area.
Ignoring the soot covering his hands, Zhang Ting hurried to the wooden plank, crouched down, and gently moved it aside.
As expected, beneath the plank, miraculously untouched by the flames, lay the remnants of the original fabric shop.
Zhang Ting stared intently at the object before him, his eyes filled with curiosity and doubt. He cautiously reached out and picked it up.
The object was black, made of a hard material, and its surface was adorned with peculiar patterns.
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