Chapter 126: Matters Continue

Little Zhang talked on and on for nearly an hour, until the bureau chief was sweating profusely. According to what Zhang had said, the man was practically no longer human; he had supposedly committed every evil under the sun. The bureau chief wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and waved at Zhang.

“All right, stop. I have the general picture now. I know what needs to be done.”

Although he said this, the bureau chief still did not dare remain alone in the office. He followed Zhang into the lobby and strictly ordered him not to move more than five steps away.

The rain continued through the night. As Song Nianqiang slept, unaware that so many things had happened, dawn finally arrived. His clothes had already been dried, but the rain showed no sign of stopping. It had weakened considerably, however, falling as a misty drizzle that veiled heaven and earth and cast an oppressive pall over everything.

Lin Dapao left at daybreak without even saying goodbye. Song Nianqiang stared at the empty room and felt that something was wrong. Could that idiot really have gone to that little island nation after all? If he had done what Song suggested, the entire country was probably in an uproar by now.

But Song merely shrugged, looking utterly unconcerned. Lin had chosen to go himself. It was not Song’s fault.

After having breakfast with the bureau chief and discussing a few matters, Song Nianqiang drove to Little Wang Village. There was still a case waiting for him to resolve. After running around in circles for so long, he had finally returned to the starting point. The female teacher’s younger sister had recovered and was now waiting at home for Song’s arrival.

When Song reached the house, the first thing he saw was the woman who had been possessed by the Belly Ghost. She still carried a strong air of the streets and nightlife, but her complexion was poor. Clearly, that incident had struck her hard.

“Do you know anything about your father’s past? Especially anything strange or unusual?”

After entering the room, Song Nianqiang pulled over a chair and sat down. Big Fatty went straight into the inner room. The road to Little Wang Village had been so rough that the constant jolting had completely knocked him out. He was now sprawled across the bed like a dead pig, unable to move.

The woman with the heavy streetwise air shook her head blankly. She had left home when she was very young and knew almost nothing about her father. Song therefore turned his gaze to the female teacher.

“I did not know much about Father either, but I do remember that something extremely strange happened once. I cannot recall exactly when it was, but the incident left a deep impression on me.”

She paused and glanced at the elderly neighbors gathered around them before continuing.

“I believe many of the old neighbors here know about it. One time, Father was struck by a truck while he was on his way to the market. A great many people witnessed it. The wheel rolled directly over his head, yet Father was completely unharmed—apart from that pool of bright red blood.”

“After that, Father became very strange. He would often sit alone in gloomy corners, muttering to himself. He also became especially fond of the night. After midnight, in particular, he would be full of energy. I once took him to the provincial hospital for an examination, but the doctors said he was perfectly healthy. I even consulted mediums, but they could not figure out what was wrong with him either.”

Song Nianqiang sat quietly in his chair, listening. What she said was almost identical to the records in the police station archives. He could not help wondering whether the old man had simply been extraordinarily lucky—so lucky that even Heaven had refused to claim his life.

But Song immediately scoffed at that conclusion. There was no such thing as extraordinary luck. Those who survived great disasters by sheer chance were always protected by something. Could that old man have had something protecting him as well?

With that question in mind, Song asked the female teacher, “Did your father ever keep anything like a spirit altar or an immortal’s table at home?”

The female teacher lowered her head and thought carefully before shaking it. At that moment, however, her younger sister, who had remained silent at the side, spoke up.

“Would our mother’s memorial tablet count? Mother died young. To commemorate her, Father placed a memorial tablet for her in the house and burned incense before it every day. It practically became a habit.”

She glanced at her sister, as though she had made up her mind, and continued.

“Sometimes we saw Father talking to himself in front of the tablet. At other times, he would fly into a rage and curse Mother while pointing at it.”

At her words, Song Nianqiang’s eyes suddenly lit up. If he wanted to find a breakthrough, he would have to locate their mother’s memorial tablet.

He did not linger. He gathered the two sisters, the village chief, and several young men from the village and set off for the site of their former home. Big Fatty had still not recovered, so Song left him behind.

The dirt roads in the countryside were treacherously muddy after the rain. Song Nianqiang and the others picked their way along, sinking deeply with every step before laboriously pulling their feet free. For some reason, Song walked very slowly. He noticed that the village chief’s expression was unusually grim and asked, “Uncle, what is it? Did you sleep badly last night?”

Badly? The village chief had been asleep during the latter half of the night. He had been lying in bed in a daze when three men in black raincoats suddenly burst in and issued him a warning. But he would never dare speak of that.

He forced a smile and said to Song, “It is nothing. The thunder was too loud last night. I could not sleep at all.”

From the village chief’s expression, it was obvious that he was lying. But since the man clearly did not want to talk, Song did not press him.

The site of their old home had been reduced to ruins by the great fire. Broken walls and shattered remains lay everywhere; it was impossible to tell that people had once lived there. Song stepped onto the wreckage and began scanning the area.

If the two sisters were telling the truth, then this matter was certainly not simple. There had to be some clue hidden among the ruins. Song had already made up his mind: if he found nothing this time, then as soon as the rain stopped, he would have the entire site cleared.

He was convinced that something was concealed within those ruins.

“Boss, that idiot is calling. Should I answer, or drag him outside and shoot him?”

Song Nianqiang’s phone rang. He took it out and saw that the call was from the county police chief. He answered.

“Chief, what is it?”

“Qiangzi, something terrible has happened! Where are you? Can you come over immediately?”

The police chief’s voice was agitated, with a trace of unease beneath it. Song Nianqiang was intrigued. What could have happened to make the head of a county police bureau so frantic? Had officials from above come to inspect them? Even then, surely they would not need him.

“Chief, what exactly happened? Could you tell me first?”

From the chief’s tone, Song could tell that the matter was serious, so he did not dare boast recklessly.

“A family of four from the county tax bureau, along with a mistress, were all found dead overnight under bizarre circumstances. We can be almost certain that something supernatural did it. The entire county has been thrown into chaos. The county magistrate and the Party secretary are both here waiting for you. Could you come back first?”

Song held the phone and considered for a moment before replying apologetically, “Chief, I am truly sorry, but I am dealing with another case right now. It looks like you will have to wait a few days.”

“What? How can that possibly work? Our—”

The county police chief did not finish. Song seemed to hear the county magistrate speak in the background.

“Old Qi, there is no need to rush us. If Little Qiang has something to deal with, let him finish it first.”

Since even the county magistrate had said that, the police chief could hardly object. He no longer insisted that Song return.

“Then, well, it is all right if you cannot come back. Could you at least give us a few talismans, just in case? We have been living in constant fear…”

The police chief shamelessly made his request.

“That is easy enough. For the next few days, you can stay at the place where I live. As long as you remain inside your rooms, I guarantee that nothing will happen to you. But do not wander around inside my room. Stay there obediently and you will be safe. If you refuse to behave, however, I cannot guarantee anything.”

At this point, Song Nianqiang had no choice but to give the old men a temporary refuge. Yet his warning was no exaggeration. His ghost-summoning stone was kept in the inner room. If those old men ignored his instructions and barged in, then anything that happened afterward could not be blamed on Song.