Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Ominous Joy (04)

The investigation had progressed to this point, and every townsperson the police had contacted—whether out of “respect for the dead” or genuine sincerity—said that although Wan Zeyu had been naughty in his youth, he had long since reformed. Over the past decade or more, not only had he achieved success in his own career, but he had also done his utmost to help others. His flaws did not overshadow his virtues; he was an exceptionally good person and a role model for the younger generation.

Only this seemingly crazy old woman said that Wan Zeyu deserved to die.

Hai Shu quickly helped the old woman to the side, wanting to have her sit and speak slowly, but there was no bench on the road. A team member brought a chair from the Wan family home. The moment the old woman saw it was something from the Wan family, she frantically waved her hands in fear. “No sitting! No sitting on their things!”

Two middle-aged men rushed over from the alley entrance, both covered in sweat. “Granny! You ran off again!”

One of the middle-aged men supported the old woman while the other hurriedly apologized to Hai Shu, pointing at his own forehead. “Comrade Police, this is my mother-in-law. She’s over ninety—practically an ancestor. Her mind isn’t clear anymore. Sorry for disturbing your investigation. We’ll take her back right now!”

Hai Shu stopped them. “Granny, why do you say Yu-zi deserved to die?”

No one wanted to get involved in the case. The middle-aged man quickly said his mother-in-law’s mind was broken and her words couldn’t be trusted.

Hai Shu smiled. “It’s fine. I just want to chat casually with Granny.”

The old woman was too elderly and muddled. Though her family took good care of her, no one listened to her anymore. When Hai Shu was willing to talk to her, she curved her mouth like a child and giggled happily.

“That Wan family kid—out of a thousand wrongs and ten thousand wrongs, the worst was stepping on the formation in the woods!”

This statement stunned Hai Shu. Formation? What formation? She had thought the old woman would bring up Wan Zeyu’s youthful misdeeds. Even if they didn’t constitute key clues, they might give the police a more rounded picture of Wan Zeyu.

“Granny, what do you mean by the ‘formation’?” Hai Shu asked patiently.

The old woman’s turbid eyes looked toward the woods. She stretched out her thin, trembling hand and pointed shakily. “Those barrels—they’re all part of the formation.”

The middle-aged man, who had been following behind Hai Shu and the old woman, said anxiously, “Comrade Police, my mother-in-law loves feudal superstitions!”

Hai Shu suddenly recalled something. The day before yesterday, she had seen the smoking barrels in the woods and the branches directly above them. At the time she had felt there was a fire hazard and also found it strangely eerie. Smoking cured meats and sausages was usually done in open, spacious areas—why so close to trees? She had even planned to contact the fire department but forgot after the murder case came up.

“Granny, are you saying those barrels for smoking sausages and cured meats are a formation? To suppress something? Have you ever smoked meat there yourself?”

The old woman patted Hai Shu’s hand as if chatting idly with her granddaughter. “When I was your age, every year I’d stuff a whole basket of sausages!”

Hai Shu smiled. “You’re really capable. Then what’s the story with this formation?”

The old woman told a story. When she was young, the place for smoking meat wasn’t in the woods but farther south—flat land, no trees to block it. More than thirty years ago, the town had few people, every household endured poverty, and meat was rare. They couldn’t bear to eat it fresh, so they made it into smoked products to preserve it longer.

The eldest son of the Luo family married a wife named Cai Mei, who came from another village. She often complained there was no oil or meat in the meals and was always envious of other families’ sausages. A few years later, Cai Mei got pregnant but fell into the water and died—two lives lost. Back then, people dying was common, and no one paid much attention.

But that Spring Festival, strange things happened one after another in the town. First, the Luo family’s eldest son—Cai Mei’s husband—died suddenly in the wilderness, his eyes eaten by wild animals. Then came the Luo family head, the second son, and the second daughter-in-law—they died one by one, all in bizarre ways.

People began saying there was something hidden in Cai Mei’s death—that she and her child had been murdered by the Luo family. Cai Mei had become a vengeful ghost and returned for revenge.

The entire Luo family died out, but the strange events didn’t stop. Soon two more households had incidents, and the ones who died were the young, strong men in the family. Old folks like Granny invited a “divine immortal” to divine the cause. The immortal said that to appease Cai Mei, they must set up a formation in the woods.

At that time, campaigns to eradicate feudal superstitions were in full swing, so the townspeople didn’t dare openly build a formation. The “divine immortal” suggested using the smoking barrels that every household had and said that since Cai Mei was half a starving ghost, if they hung cured meats and sausages above the barrels to satisfy her, she would naturally leave.

Not all townspeople knew what the “divine immortal” said. Granny and the other elderly people secretly moved the smoking barrels into the woods behind the young people’s backs and quietly made offerings to Cai Mei, guarding against being reported by the youth.

After the formation was set up, no more strange deaths occurred. Granny and the others became even more convinced of the “divine immortal” and firmly believed Cai Mei’s wronged soul had once caused havoc. They offered sacrifices with increasing devotion.

In the blink of an eye, thirty years passed. The elderly dwindled, and few people knew anymore why meat was smoked in the woods. Once all those who knew the inside story were gone, the secret would be sealed forever.

Hai Shu listened seriously and asked, “Then what does this formation have to do with the Wan family kid?”

“He stepped on the formation! It was disrespect to the array! I told him, but young people don’t listen to the old!” The old woman pounded her chest and stamped her feet.

Hai Shu’s mind flashed to the first time she noticed Wan Zeyu. Although the smoking barrels were tall, there were high stools and ladders placed beside them. Many people stepped on ladders to hang sausages and cured meats, yet Wan Zeyu had climbed directly onto the barrel, seeming very practiced.

Others didn’t step on the barrels probably not out of respect, but because it was dangerous—there was a risk of falling in.

Hai Shu asked, “Did you often see him step on them?”

The old woman spoke haltingly. Last year, when she and her granddaughter-in-law went to smoke meat, she saw him climbing the barrel and scolded him, but he just laughed heartily—truly naughty.

Hai Shu asked again for details about Cai Mei’s death and the two lives lost, but the old woman could no longer recall clearly. After bidding the old woman farewell, Hai Shu walked alone toward the police station.

The townspeople’s custom of smoking meat in the woods was linked to multiple bizarre deaths from thirty years ago, steeped in superstition. In the minds of the elderly who believed in the formation, Wan Zeyu’s death was the result of offending the array.

Of course this was not credible, but why did Wan Zeyu happen to die right in the so-called formation? Cutting off the head and limbs, covering the torso with ashes from the smoking barrel, hanging another victim’s limbs above the barrel—even without hearing the old woman’s words, one could see that this method of killing carried a strong, eerie sense of ritual.

Smoking barrels, formation, superstition, Cai Mei and the Luo family’s bizarre deaths… Could Wan Zeyu’s case be connected to an unsolved mystery from thirty years ago?

Someone was using past superstitions? Then what was the motive?

The net had grown larger. Hai Shu trembled with excitement. She smoothed her wind-tousled hair and was about to go upstairs when she suddenly heard a commotion coming from the corridor on the first floor.

Following the line of thought from last night’s meeting, the team members had invited people closely connected to Wan Zeyu to the police station for statements—including those who sat at the same table with him at the bride’s family banquet (all young, able-bodied men) and the seven who had left the Yin family courtyard with him. Guang Jun, as one of the main figures in the bride’s family banquet, had naturally also been invited.

The commotion was coming from Guang Jun’s family.

Hai Shu followed the sound. The door to the reception room was open. Guang Jun sat slumped on the sofa, listless. His mother, uncles, and brothers—five people in total—had come along and were now arguing forcefully with the police station officers.

“What does this case have to do with us? We’re victims too! Whose wedding has something like this happen! Look at what’s become of our son! Can’t this wait a few days before questioning him?”

Hai Shu scanned the room but didn’t see Yin Canxi. Guang Jun’s face was ashen. If he was grieving for his brother, there seemed to be something else mixed in.

Hai Shu walked in, flipped through the statements—almost all were from the Guang family complaining about the marriage and about Yin Canxi. Guang Jun himself hadn’t spoken.

“Everyone, let me talk to Mr. Guang alone.” As soon as Hai Shu spoke, the noisy Guang family quieted. They looked at this soft-spoken yet subtly authoritative woman with suspicion and wariness. After a moment they exchanged glances, each hoping someone else would protest.

Hai Shu smiled and turned to Guang Jun. Guang Jun was staring blankly at her. His mother came to her senses and blocked Hai Shu. “What questioning? He’s not well, his mood is bad—ask another day!”

Hai Shu didn’t back down. She patted her notebook. “Fine then, I’ll ask you a few questions. You all seem quite dissatisfied with this marriage—then why did you agree to let them marry?”

Guang’s mother’s features twisted. “Wasn’t it because he liked her? It’s not the old days anymore—can I still interfere in who he marries?”

“Was there something about the bride that displeased you?” Hai Shu said. “I think she’s quite pretty and capable.”

“Hah! Yin Canxi is no pushover!” With the wedding in such chaos, Guang’s mother no longer bothered to hide it. “The girls in our town are all honest. Only she dared run off outside when she was just a teenager! Even her own family couldn’t control her! She only came back now because she couldn’t make it out there anymore and wanted to latch onto a husband’s family!”

Hai Shu listened with growing irritation. So this was how the Guang family viewed Yin Canxi. Yet she knew that when Yin Canxi returned home to marry, Hai Shu had had her own doubts. Yin Canxi had once said she looked down on men from her hometown—how had she suddenly become Guang Jun’s little wife?

“Mom, stop talking!” Guang Jun finally spoke. “Don’t talk about Xixi like that!”

Guang’s mother rolled her eyes dramatically and sneered. “Oh, calling her so sweetly! Got a wife and forgot your mother! Ungrateful wolf! I told you early on this kind of person was trouble, but you wouldn’t listen. Now there’s a death at the wedding—let’s see how you live your days from now on!”

A complete mess, but amid the flying feathers, the truth might hide in the tiniest details. Hai Shu firmly ushered the Guang family out, leaving only Guang Jun.

Guang Jun hunched his shoulders, looking sickly. “Yesterday I walked Yu-zi to the gate and then went back to the courtyard to handle things. There were too many preparations before the wedding—I and more than ten friends barely slept. We only dozed for half an hour near dawn and didn’t really sleep much. I don’t know why something happened to him.”

Hai Shu stared at Guang Jun’s face. Half a minute later she continued, “You and those ten-plus friends all stayed at your house? Like how I stayed at Yin Canxi’s?”

Guang Jun nodded repeatedly.

“They’re all locals, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you keep Wan Zeyu? Given your relationship, he should have gone with you to ‘steal the bride.’”

Guang Jun was stunned for a moment, as if remembering something. “I… I told him! But he said his old mother had a bit of a cold these past few days and he wanted to go home and check on her. He said he’d definitely be back on time the next day!”

This was another piece of evidence that Wan Zeyu had actively avoided people. But what Hai Shu cared about more now was Guang Jun’s reaction. His fainting at the scene had already been slightly excessive. His current grief and sluggishness seemed more like a cover for real emotions. Did Wan Zeyu’s death make him feel fear? Where did this fear come from?

Hai Shu set her pen aside and changed the subject. “How did you and Yin Canxi get together?”