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Paper Doll Soul Guiding
墨書 Inktalez
The bluestone slabs of Wutong Alley glistened with moisture as Chen Mo crouched beneath the third utility pole at the alley's entrance, the beam of his police flashlight sweeping across the dried blood caked in the wall's crevices. This was the last known location of Lin Qiuyu on the night she went missing. The scent of agarwood wafted from the neighboring Incense Shop, mingling with the rain to create an aroma reminiscent of aged sandalwood.
"The rain was relentless that night; the umbrella frame broke right here," said the shop owner, wrapped in a faded Tang Suit. As he spoke, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened into centipede-like grooves. "That girl was in such a hurry that she dropped her hairpin at my shop's entrance—this one."
Chen Mo took the Butterfly Hairpin, inlaid with fragments of jade, from him. Half a Yellow Talisman clung to its metallic clip. The Vermilion Talisman, soaked by the rain, had blurred into a blood-like stain, barely allowing him to make out the words "Guide the Soul."
He directed his flashlight toward the Crooked Neck Huai Tree at the end of the alley, where a faded Hong Chou hung from its dense branches, swaying gently in the night breeze like a severed tongue suspended in midair.
"Did you see anyone following her?"
The shop owner's Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he lowered his voice. "What followed her wasn't human."
His bony finger pointed toward the alley's corner. "In that torrential rain stood a paper bride, her blush smeared as if it were bleeding. The Gold Thread embroidered Double Lotus... it looked exactly like what was burned during Miss Lin's funeral fifteen years ago!"
A chill crept up Chen Mo's neck.
The case file from fifteen years ago documented how seven members of the Lin family had died suddenly, and it mentioned that Seven Paper Figures had appeared at the scene.
He paused his note-taking as he noticed three parallel scratches on the moss at the base of a Sophora Tree, as if made by a metallic blade.
"Do you remember what the Paper Man was holding?"
"Oh dear! I wouldn't dare look closely..." The shop owner suddenly broke into a violent cough, his waxy face turning a shade resembling liver. "But that Paper Man... he seemed to have red thread and copper bells tied around his feet..."
Before he could finish, Chen Mo's phone vibrated urgently.
A wooden box wrapped in Hong Chou had been pulled from a river in the southern part of town. The raspy voice of Captain Old Zhang mixed with the sound of rushing water came through: "Hurry! Inside the box... is a human finger!"
Under the stark white lights of the forensic lab, a severed finger wrapped in a Dragon and Phoenix Wedding Veil lay on the dissection table. Forensic Doctor Zhou, wearing rubber gloves, furrowed his brow tightly. "The preservative used is a formula unique to Tong Ren Tang from thirty years ago." He delicately moved a pair of tweezers to reveal a Silver Ring at the base of the finger. "The inner side of this ring bears markings from Lin Clan Ancestral Hall; it should be part of a Family Crest passed down for five generations."
Chen Mo leaned in for a closer look and suddenly noticed dark yellow fibers caught in the ring's crevice.
Forensic Doctor Zhou examined it with a magnifying glass. "This is unburned Ming Paper, and..."
His voice trailed off abruptly. "The indentations on this fingertip appear to have been formed by long-term contact with copper coins."
Suddenly, the overhead light in the dissection room flickered, and Chen Mo caught sight of the severed finger twitching oddly in the interplay of light and shadow.
Rubbing his eyes and looking again, he found that the pale finger lay still once more, but dark red fragments oozed from beneath its nail.
"It’s Cinnabar." Forensic Doctor Zhou dipped a cotton swab into the sample. "The composition is consistent with the Yellow Talisman found at the Incense Shop."
The heavy rain poured down again at two in the morning. Chen Mo stood at the riverbank gate, holding a black umbrella as the beams of light from the recovery team’s flashlights crisscrossed over the water's surface.
Old Zhang trudged through the mud, water droplets clinging to the shoulder insignia of his dark blue police uniform. "While we were recovering, there was an old man in a Sedge Coat burning paper on the opposite bank. By the time we got over there, he had vanished."
Chen Mo's shoe sole ground against the damp ashes of Ming Paper, and suddenly he kicked something hard.
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