Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 49: Human Skin Puppet (Part Two)
I pinched the strand of hair with tweezers and waved it in front of Qin Jian. He squinted at it and muttered, "Where is this thing most likely to appear?"
"It's been quite popular online lately..." I said with a smirk, adding, "That thing can satisfy the needs of many single men. Where do you think we might see it?"
"An inflatable doll?" Qin Jian exclaimed, nearly dropping his jaw in shock.
"Close enough."
We both understood each other without needing to say more; the inflatable doll was something we could both ignore.
As we watched the body being carried away, our attention was drawn to something beneath it. Almost simultaneously, we discovered a ring of human-shaped water stains underneath the corpse. Were these marks left by the deceased as they dehydrated? I saw him use a tissue to dab at the stains, then bring it to his eyes and sniff it. The tissue was dry and had no unusual odor. What did this mean?
I was certain that the ring of marks under the body was not water.
"What if it's not water? What is it?" Qin Jian asked.
"It's oil."
"I don't get it. Should we go check the Mortuary?" I really didn't want to go to the Mortuary. Even if we went, it would be pointless. I knew Qin Jian wanted me to sense something there, but given the current case, relying solely on intuition might be a bit difficult.
Seeing my refusal to go to the Mortuary, Qin Jian was at a loss. He countered by asking what we should do about this case; we couldn't just let it drag on like this.
I believed that everything had its own regularity. Since things had already happened, there must be answers waiting for us to uncover.
"Where is the answer?"
"Don't panic, let me check this High-Quality Hair first."
"Are you really not going to the Mortuary?"
"I'm not going; it would be pointless." I stubbornly refused, even unwilling to ride in Qin Jian's car again. I quickly distanced myself from him and walked in the opposite direction. I headed towards the bustling city, turning off my phone along the way. I wanted to keep this moment to myself, for my own mind.
As I walked through the throngs of people in the busy streets, my thoughts were unaffected by the noise; instead, they became clearer, like a mirror reflecting my inner turmoil. I kept pondering one question related to my parents. Although Gong Elder was a Black Cop and deserved his fate, I needed to find out who was responsible for killing my father. Otherwise, I would never find peace in my life.
There was another issue—the bizarre case I had just taken on. I couldn't tell if it was just a feeling or if my intuition was overly sensitive, but I sensed that this Male Corpse marked the beginning of something significant. It felt as if something terrible was about to unfold.
I wasn't a prophet; all I could do was sense it. Deliberately leaving Qin Jian behind was part of that decision—I wanted to think quietly and see if any insights would come to me. Before I knew it, I reached a corner where an old man stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, pretending to observe me. In front of him lay a row of seasonal and almanac books, along with a faded piece of coarse cloth that bore two characters recognizable to any student: fortune-telling.
I wasn't into fortune-telling, but I understood these deceptive tricks well enough—three parts truth and seven parts lies. The opening act relied solely on words, fooling people until they were dizzy and willingly handing over money for the service.
I didn't even glance at the Fortune Teller. My grandfather used to dabble in fortune-telling too; he often played tricks on people regarding funerals. Some would approach him casually, and he would throw out a few vague statements that they believed wholeheartedly. They would willingly pay him for drinks; if he refused, they would insist on giving him a Red Envelope.
So, I saw through this fortune-telling charade clearly: fate is largely in one's own hands. Although some might use Evil Arts to cause harm, as long as you have a strong heart and unyielding willpower, good will ultimately triumph over evil.
Look at me—walking alone; isn't it boring?
This area was relatively quiet, with few passersby. Those who sought out high-feudal superstitions wouldn't pay much attention to him either. Thus, as soon as I passed by the old man, he seized the opportunity to showcase his silver tongue and grasped any chance he could find to swindle people out of their money.
"Hey, young man, wait a moment!"
As expected, the old man spoke up. I was about to leave, but I decided to see how this old man would try to persuade me, so I stopped and turned around to ask, "What is it, sir?"
"Young man, I can see that you are blessed with good fortune, but you need someone to guide you. If you miss this opportunity, it would be a shame."
I, Ma Qi, had been plagued by misfortune all my life. I had no parents, my grandfather passed away when I was growing up, and my girlfriend died in an accident. Even my closest friend betrayed me. If he knew what my grandfather was like, he probably wouldn't even dare to look at me.
In the old man's eyes, although I was young and had a certain cool charm about me, I was still someone easy to fool.
Because not only did I stop, but I also walked toward him.
The old man's wrinkled face broke into a smile—a barely noticeable one that you wouldn't catch if you weren't paying attention.
"Sir, are you saying that I'm blessed with good fortune?"
"Yes, my words are not to be taken lightly. You should know that revealing opportunities can lead to dire consequences. So I see that you and I are fated to meet. Today, I'll tell you this: not only are you blessed with good fortune, but you also have a chance to win big."
"Win big?" I felt frustrated; this old man really knew how to spin tales. The thing I believed the least in was buying lottery tickets. Who knows how great the odds of winning are? Those who win—who knows how they did it? In my experience, I've never heard of anyone around me winning anything substantial.
"Don't doubt it. Look at you—your eyebrows are long and elegant, with a beauty mark in between; this is what they call 'a pearl hidden in the grass.' Plus, your complexion is rosy; you're bound to win big soon."
"Hah..." I chuckled and then said seriously, "What do you think about my family luck?"
"Ah, forgive my meddling, but child, your connections in love and kinship are quite shallow. This is where the so-called imperfection lies."
The old man truly had some insight; I squinted to observe him closely. He had a bulbous nose and calm eyes, at least devoid of that particularly unpleasant evil spirit gaze. However, he also emanated a strange odor reminiscent of fermented leaves.
What puzzled me was that no matter how I looked at him, he appeared to be an exceedingly ordinary person. Coupled with the smell of smoke clinging to him, I thought he was simply an old farmer from the countryside. How could such an unremarkable individual possibly possess such precise terminology in fortune-telling? Moreover, every word he spoke seemed to hit right at my vulnerabilities.
Seeing me silent and contemplative, the old man blinked his murky eyes vigorously and smacked his lips. "If you don't believe me, go ahead and try buying a lottery ticket or something. If it doesn't work out, you won't owe me anything; if it does, you can thank me later."
His confident demeanor irked me; I felt a surge of defiance. Just ahead was a shop selling sports lottery tickets. I had never really hoped to get rich from buying lottery tickets; I had never considered the odds of winning. I always thought that buying tickets and winning prizes had little to do with me.
Yet, spurred on by the old man's words, I found myself approaching the lottery counter. I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. At two dollars a ticket, I decided to buy ten tickets.
Comment 0 Comment Count