Chapter 60
Chapter 60
I stepped over the high threshold. “Old Cao, Big Bull, what happened?”
They stopped talking and turned to me.
Big Bull nodded helplessly. “Something strange. We buried the cobbler’s son together the night before last. Now the corpse is gone.”
What?
His explanation made the situation even more disturbing.
That afternoon, the cobbler went to worship at his son’s grave and found it dug open. The coffin lay exposed, its lid overturned, and the body had vanished.
Terrified, he hurried downhill and found Big Bull. All four bearers searched the grave hill until sunset without success. They comforted the old man and came to Old Cao.
The five men searched again, still finding no trace, then returned to the shop.
Old Cao had considered calling Yuan Fei but disliked disturbing him so late, especially for unpaid work without a client.
“Could someone have stolen the corpse?” I asked.
Big Bull’s expression hardened. “That’s the problem. We found no footprints or marks except the cobbler’s.”
“Either it became a walking corpse, opened its coffin, and walked away,” Old Cao said darkly through his smoke, “or an evil cultivator used some bizarre method. Neither is good.”
My unease on the night of the burial had been justified. A difficult matter lay behind its suspicious ease.
“Whatever happened, its source is the Killer Demon Tree. We should inspect it again.”
Ergou slapped a thigh. “Young Brother Wu is right! We’ve been thinking only about the vanished body. We should look near the huangjue fig.”
Old Cao smiled and nodded. “Xiao Wu’s mind is quicker. Let’s go to Liangfeng Street.”
Mangdun muttered, “Ergou, slap a thigh if you want, but could you use your own? That hurt.”
The six of us hurried out.
Halfway down Liangfeng Street, still more than two hundred yards from the tree, a piercing scream split the night.
“No!”
Old Cao and I exchanged a glance and sprinted toward the old fig.
In the distant glow of River Street’s lamps, a woman lay collapsed on the ground, covering her mouth. Terror streamed down her face with her tears.
“Ma’am, are you hurt?”
I helped her up. The presence of six men calmed her hysteria slightly, though she still trembled and pointed upward.
“There… dead people! Hanging from the branches!”
We looked up in alarm.
I sucked in a breath.
Two bodies hung from the old huangjue fig, a man on one side and a woman on the other. They dangled ten or twelve feet above the ground, swaying in the night wind like grotesque fruit. Long tongues, dark purple-red, protruded faintly from their mouths.
No wonder she had fallen screaming and weeping. The sight would have made my heart race and knees weaken if I encountered it alone.
“What do we do?” I asked Old Cao.
“Notify the police. Two people hanging from one tree is a major case. They’ll respond immediately, asleep or not.”
Hands behind his back, he stared at the giant fig in thought.
Flat-Top was our fastest runner and had dealt with the police station before, so he went to summon them.
The rest of us protected the scene.
Before long, Flat-Top returned at a jog with two middle-aged men. Lianghe Town was not large, and two officers on night duty were a strong response.
“Officer Huang and Officer Li,” Flat-Top introduced. “They took the report very seriously.”
There was no time for pleasantries. Officer Li looked up at the bodies, frowning deeply.
“The cobbler’s son hanged himself the night before last, and now two more? This tree really is sinister. Could the Killer–”
Officer Huang stopped him with a pat. “Don’t talk nonsense, Old Li. Evil entities don’t exist. This is coincidence and will have a scientific explanation. Don’t indulge feudal superstition.”
He glanced at us. “No offense intended, Master Cao, Niu Gao. Traditional culture deserves respect, and I respect your professions.”
He appeared upright, decisive, and direct.
Officer Huang looked at the bodies again. “Could you help us bring them down?”
He knew their trade gave the men special skills. Old Cao nodded and sent Ergou.
Agile as a monkey, Ergou climbed the tree in moments and untied both ropes.
Thud. Thud.
The bodies struck the ground.
In those days, the town police station lacked staff and proper facilities, even a decent morgue. The bodies had to go to the town hospital for autopsies and temporary storage until relatives identified them.
As witnesses, we and the woman accompanied the officers and later gave statements.
The autopsies confirmed suicide with no sign of harm by a third party. The man was a cook at a local restaurant, the woman a department-store clerk. They did not know each other and had almost no connection.
The unlucky witness who first saw them was an arcade cashier walking home alone after work.
Since we were there, Big Bull also reported the disappearance of the cobbler’s son’s body. It might accomplish nothing, but at least the case was recorded. Even in ancient times, folk mystics often dealt with the authorities.
Officer Li escorted us out after we gave statements. “Thank you for your trouble. Take care.”
He was mild and approachable, unlike Officer Huang’s stern authority.
Old Cao clasped his hands. “Officer Li, if you learn anything about these three dead people, could you tell us?”
The officer hesitated. Police investigations were no business of ordinary citizens. Besides, all three deaths were established suicides. What could follow beyond family identification and burial?
Yet we had some connection to each victim, so he did not refuse outright. He said vaguely that he would see what he could do.
Old Cao did not press. We parted ways.
He looked deeply worried on the road home. I understood. The Killer Demon Tree was too strange.
Waves of suicide seventy and thirty years earlier could perhaps be explained by those chaotic, painful eras, when both murder and suicide were common. Even crowds choosing the same tree might be plausible.
But one death was major news in peaceful times. Three recent suicides from the same ancient huangjue fig were another matter entirely.
A hazy fog seemed to surround the tree, concealing whatever evil might lurk within.
Since we could not see through it and remained on the defensive, we could only wait and meet whatever came.
Whatever happened, a middle schooler still had to attend school.
The next morning, Wang Dachun and Zeng Jin’s group waited at the junction of Lianghe’s main street, chatting and looking around.
When they saw me, they fell silent and trotted over, Wang Dachun wearing an ingratiating smile.
“Morning, Brother Wu!”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you wait here every morning just to walk to school with me?”
“Of course. You’re our boss.”
“I told you to stop calling me that. I’m an honest, hardworking student. Don’t let spoiled delinquents like you ruin my reputation.”
I never treated him politely, but he seemed to enjoy abuse. No matter how harshly I spoke, he merely grinned. I could not strike a smiling face, so I let the group surround me on the way to school.
“You’re like sticky plasters,” I muttered.
Wang Dachun gave me a thumbs-up. “Beautiful phrasing, Brother Wu. Very apt.”
I surrendered. There was no dealing with him.
“If you truly consider me your boss, stop causing trouble and bullying classmates. Study properly too. If you don’t place in the top forty on our first monthly exam, don’t call me boss again.”
Wang Dachun wilted like an eggplant after frost.
Mentioning study always seemed to threaten his life. There were fifty students in class; I only demanded that he escape the bottom ten. Was that so difficult?
School life was peaceful and simple. There was almost no danger; I merely attended lessons among innocent classmates, and my greatest nuisance was someone like Wang Dachun.
Compared with vicious corpses, evil entities, uncanny affairs, and evil cultivators after dark, it was as pure as blank paper.
The contrast made my life feel split in two, producing an emotion difficult to describe.
The rest of the day passed quietly. The only ripple came when Yao Nan skipped dinner and stayed alone with me after class to discuss several math problems. Other classmates saw us and began teasing. I did not care, but it seemed to upset her.
Trouble returned Thursday.
When I reached the coffin shop after evening study hall, Yuan Fei was there.
“Young Brother Wu, you’re back. Master Cao told me what the Immortal Lady said about the Golden-Thread Netherbloom we dug up Friday. Your Master truly possesses extraordinary knowledge to identify such a rarity and explain its origins.”
I smiled proudly. “Naturally! Are you in town for work, Uncle Yuan?”
“No. I’ve had two quiet days at home, and curiosity about that flower brought me here. The trip was worthwhile!”
I warned him that whoever cultivated the Golden-Thread Netherbloom was a powerful evil cultivator. Since we had ruined their work, we needed to remain vigilant.
Footsteps suddenly pounded outside. Officer Li appeared in the doorway.
Why had he come so late? Yuan Fei was even more surprised to see an officer.
Then my heart trembled. Had something happened again?
Officer Li addressed Old Cao and me carefully. “Master Cao, I don’t know whether to call you perceptive or a jinx. We thought there was nothing more to those suicides. But the two bodies you found the other night have vanished, just like the cobbler’s son.”
What?
Old Cao shot to his feet. “What happened, Officer Li?”
“Our investigation found that the cook had terminal cancer, while the sales clerk had suffered a failed relationship. Their families live in villages dozens of miles away and didn’t reach the hospital morgue to identify them until this afternoon. When hospital staff took us inside, both bodies were gone from their slabs.”