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墨書 Inktalez
On a May morning, the air was filled with the damp scent of grass and trees. The bustling crowd in the city center was a lively mix of horse-drawn carriages, vendors shouting their wares, and the honking of Western automobiles.
A black police car slowly came to a stop in front of Yongtai Photography Studio, drawing the attention of passersby. Lin Mingchang turned to look at Shen Tong, who was seated in the passenger seat. "We've arrived; this is it. Yongtai Photography Studio has been in business for over fifty years," he said.
Shen Tong nodded slightly, dressed in a short jacket and long pants for ease of movement. A sign reading "Temporarily Closed" hung at the entrance of Yongtai Photography Studio, where several police officers were maintaining order, keeping curious onlookers at bay.
Lin Mingchang guided Shen Tong into Yongtai Photography Studio while quietly briefing her on the situation: "The deceased, Qi Songtao, fifty-two years old, was the owner of this studio and quite well-known locally. Wealthy merchants and officials often hired him for portraits; it is said that his photographs captured the essence of his subjects exceptionally well."
Shen Tong nodded again as she surveyed the interior of Yongtai Photography Studio—this established studio was elegantly decorated, with walls adorned by various exquisite photographs, predominantly portraits of prominent figures and wealthy individuals, each meticulously framed in mahogany.
Lin Mingchang led Shen Tong through the reception area to the door of the darkroom at the back. The door was ajar, and a strange chemical odor wafted out. A little officer stationed at the entrance stepped aside as Lin Mingchang approached, casting curious glances at Shen Tong beside him. His gaze lingered momentarily on her eye mask before quickly shifting away.
With one hand resting on the darkroom door, Lin Mingchang briefly explained to Shen Tong about Qi Songtao's death: "Around five this morning, Qi Songtao was found dead in the darkroom by his apprentice. His death is quite peculiar—there are no external injuries, it wasn't a suicide, and he appeared very peaceful. Are you ready?"
Shen Tong nodded slightly; she had a strong constitution and had accompanied her grandmother to various funerals since childhood, becoming accustomed to facing different corpses.
Lin Mingchang gently pushed open the darkroom door. The space was small and dimly lit, with many developed photographs hanging on the walls. Using Lin Mingchang's flashlight, Shen Tong crouched down to examine the body closely.
Qi Songtao lay sprawled in front of the developing table; one hand remained in a grasping position as if he had been washing photographs before he died. His body was contorted in an unusual manner, suggesting he had experienced intense pain, yet his expression was remarkably serene—as if he were merely asleep.
From Shen Tong's right eye, she could see a heavy black aura enveloping Yongtai Photography Studio; this was known as "Death Qi." However, strangely enough, there was also an unusual faint blue aura present—something Shen Tong had never encountered before. This blue aura was light and eerie, swirling erratically and intensifying within the darkroom as it intertwined with Qi Songtao's corpse.
Searching for its source, Shen Tong discovered that it emanated from a basin of developing solution on the table.
The developing solution in Shen Tong's eyes shimmered with an eerie blue light, flickering like fireflies.
"Strange..." Shen Tong murmured to herself as she stepped closer to the basin of developing solution.
"What’s strange?" Lin Mingchang asked, his flashlight beam following Shen Tong's gaze to the basin.
"This developing solution has issues. I've never seen a color like this, and the fluctuations are odd, almost like..." She paused, seemingly searching for the right words, "like a trapped soul."
Although Lin Mingchang couldn’t perceive the "aura" that Shen Tong described, he trusted her judgment completely and immediately signaled to the officers on-site to carefully collect samples of the developing solution.
Then Lin Mingchang turned to the officer at the door and asked, "What about the apprentice who discovered the body?"
"Qian Fu is waiting at the reception desk. He was so scared after finding the body that he was shaking. I gave him some sugar water earlier; he’s feeling better now."
"I'll go see him," Lin Mingchang said, then turned back to Shen Tong. "Do you need to look around here any longer?"
Shen Tong shook her head. "I'll go with you. It’s a good opportunity to check out the photos from Yongtai Photography Studio, especially the recent ones."
Qian Fu was a tall, thin boy of about seventeen or eighteen, sitting pale-faced behind the reception desk. He still seemed shaken and stammered while answering Lin Mingchang's questions:
"My master... told me to go to bed last night. He... he wanted to stay behind to wash the last batch of photos himself. We’ve had a lot of customers lately, and there were quite a few photos piled up that hadn’t been developed yet. Then... I woke up early this morning because I had to clean the shop... When I got up... I found my master’s door open, and his bed hadn’t been disturbed. I... I went to check the darkroom, knocked on the door for a long time but no one answered, so I pushed it open and saw..."
Lin Mingchang patted Qian Fu's shoulder. "Take your time, no rush."
"I saw my master lying on the floor, cold all over and not moving at all. I just... knew something was wrong and ran out to call for a patrol officer."
While Lin Mingchang was questioning him, Shen Tong was examining the photos on the wall. These pictures also bore a layer of that eerie blue aura, just like what was generated in the darkroom's developing solution.
"Qian Fu, do you recognize these people?" Shen Tong suddenly asked, pointing at a family portrait. The photo depicted a family of five—parents and three children—all dressed in elegant Western attire.
Qian Fu seemed startled by Shen Tong's presence behind Lin Mingchang and timidly nodded. "These are all regular customers of our shop. The one you’re pointing at is a family portrait my master took for President Li last week—when he... he was still alive."
Lin Mingchang immediately picked up on the implication in Qian Fu's words. "This President Li... is dead?"
Qian Fu hesitated for a moment: "Yes, I heard it was a heart attack; he passed away suddenly and was buried just two days ago. Also... Boss Yang, another regular customer of ours, also passed away suddenly last week; my master developed his memorial portrait."
Lin Mingchang exchanged glances with Shen Tong.
"Qian Fu, have any other recent customers who had their photos taken... encountered any issues?" Lin Mingchang continued to probe.
Qian Fu thought for a moment before hesitantly saying, "I think there’s also Mrs. Wang... but I'm not really sure; my master didn’t let me pry into these matters..."
After leaving Yongtai Photography Studio, Lin Mingchang spoke quietly, "I’ll arrange for an immediate test of that developing solution you mentioned."
"Several old clients of Yongtai Photography Studio have recently died unexpectedly...?" Shen Tong continued.
"Yes," Lin Mingchang nodded. "It seems we need to thoroughly investigate the accounts and client list of Yongtai Photography Studio."
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