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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 50: Fateful Path (Part Nine)
Qin Jian was such a meticulous person. I watched as he sat down and took out a wet tissue from his bag, wiping it over the table in front of me and Zhang Xian one by one before finally cleaning his own side. It seemed he had heard what was said earlier, as after wiping the edge of his table, he didn't even glance at her and casually remarked, "I'm not very clear about your situation. It's Rongrong who has something going on, and I just told Lao Qi. That's all."
It appeared that Zhang Xian had a good relationship with Chi Xinrong, perhaps even deeper than that. The former had shared many untold stories about herself with the latter. This was likely why she had previously harbored doubts and held extreme distrust towards Qin Jian, prompting her to come out and inquire about what I had learned.
Qin Jian denied the possibility that Rongrong had shared Zhang Xian's stories with him. For a moment, the three of us fell into silence, and the atmosphere grew somewhat awkward.
Eventually, Qin Jian, sensing the tension, said, "I'll go pick up Rongrong; you two can continue your conversation." He then stood up to leave. As he walked away, I noticed Zhang Xian's face looked unnatural, her expression complex as she bit her lip tightly, as if there was something she wanted to say but couldn't.
The coffee swirled in circles as I stirred it, its aroma wafting through the air. Taking a deep breath felt refreshing.
"Is my plastic surgery related to what happened at home?"
"That depends on how you face these matters. Everyone has a desire to be beautiful; however, your surgery destroyed something inherently valuable. As a result, after the surgery, you ended up with a look that seems to invite misfortune. This can indirectly or directly affect your fate, and misfortune can also impact your loved ones and friends..."
"Stop... I'm scared..." Zhang Xian covered her ears and lowered her head. Tears welled up in her eyes, and after a long moment under my quiet gaze, she whispered, "I returned from my successful surgery half a month ago. My mom cut her finger while chopping vegetables... she got sepsis and died. My dad was just walking down the street when a flying tire hit him in the back of the head and killed him instantly. How are these not connected to me?"
Seeing her nose grow redder and her shoulders shaking as tears streamed down like threads being pulled, I struggled to find the right words to comfort her. After much contemplation, I finally replied selectively, "There is some connection, but there are also other factors involved..."
"By your logic, their deaths are also my fault? What kind of reasoning is that? They weren't even close to me; they weren't good friends. Why did they have consecutive accidents after my trip?"
She sobbed uncontrollably as I handed her tissue after tissue. She wiped her tears and tossed them into the trash bin. Stealing a glance at the bin revealed it was filled with tissues; clearly, I needed to choose my words carefully. Crying is a common trait among women. I fiddled with Qin Jian's high-end lighter in one hand while nudging Zhang Xian's coffee with the other to suggest she take a sip. I mumbled some comforting words, "Well, this doesn't have anything directly to do with you. If you're willing, could you share the details of your trip with me?"
Zhang Xian wiped away the last tear with great care, then quickly took out a mirror. She examined her reflection, seemingly concerned that her tears might have affected her makeup. Satisfied, she placed the mirror back into her elegantly crafted handbag and took another sip of coffee. As she sipped, she was cautious, afraid of smudging her lipstick, which would not only look bad but also be unhealthy.
Lost in thought, she rummaged through her bag for a moment before handing me her phone. "Look at the person in this photo," she said.
This was a spontaneous picture taken during their trip, featuring several people together—some squatting, some standing—all smiling broadly. One middle-aged man was tilting his head, staring intently at another person.
"His name is Sun Yue. He was the first to have an incident during the trip; he’s already dead... The cause of death was angina, which proved fatal on the way back from the trip." I remained silent as I zoomed in on the photo. The man named Sun Yue was fixated on a middle-aged woman. Noticing my interest in her, Zhang Xian hurriedly explained, "What's strange is that her name is Liu Hui; she’s our company’s accountant and is... a colleague of Sun Yue."
I noticed a hint of hesitation in Zhang Xian's voice when she mentioned their relationship. It seemed that there was something off about this Sun Yue. The way he looked at Liu Hui wasn’t just that of a typical colleague; it was urgent, as if he had so much to say to her but couldn’t find the words. I casually asked, "What kind of relationship do they have?"
Zhang Xian paused for a moment before nodding resolutely. "They do have an unusual relationship. A long time ago, I heard rumors in the company that they had an affair, but there was never any solid evidence; it was just gossip behind closed doors. But unexpectedly, after Sun Yue's incident, Liu Hui also had an incident."
At this point, Zhang Xian's voice wavered with fear. What was she afraid of? Or was it just her extreme nervousness causing her voice to falter?
With a mind full of questions, I gestured for her to continue.
"Liu Hui got lost during the trip. She claimed she heard someone calling her name and recklessly followed the voice. In the end, she found herself surrounded by nothing but scattered rocks; it was Sun Yue who eventually found her. She was so frightened that she almost called the police."
"Did she hear who called her?"
"No, she couldn’t make it out clearly; the voice was muffled and indistinct." At this point, Zhang Xian suddenly stopped speaking and stared blankly at her coffee cup.
“What happened to Liu Hui?”
Zhang Xian's gaze remained fixed on the coffee cup, her lips moving subconsciously. “She took a nap and didn’t wake up. The cause of death was suffocation due to insufficient blood supply from a cerebral embolism.”
I swiped through her phone screen and saw the second photo.
In the second photo, Sun Yue's face was completely blurred, as if overexposed, while Liu Hui was staring intently at another person, also tilting their head in the same manner.
To be honest, that tilted head posture was unsettling; looking at it for too long sent chills down my spine, as if the eyes in the photo were moving and constantly watching anyone who gazed at it.
If one saw someone tilting their head to stare at another person, it wouldn’t be too strange. For instance, Sun Yue and Liu Hui had something going on; their relationship was unusual. However, the person Liu Hui was staring at wasn’t Sun Yue but another man who was right next to Zhang Xian.
“His name is Zhang Youjian. He hanged himself while returning from a trip.”
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