Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
I have always been curious about Luo Xiaoye's past. She told me that she had only loved one man.
"Are you two broken up now?" I asked her, trying to read something in her eyes.
"No, we were never together."
A half-smile appeared on her face. "When I have free time, I like to go to bars alone. In some corner of a noisy, chaotic bar, sipping whiskey allows me to truly hide myself. No one pays attention to me. For me, the dimly lit bar is my camouflage."
"Sometimes it doesn't work out," I ventured.
She said there are always some men who want to sleep with her. Luo Xiaoye smiled slightly, a hint of sarcasm in her gaze. "And then what? Do you get used to dating strangers?"
Suddenly, Luo Xiaoye burst into laughter. She told me that whenever a man approached her, she would immediately agree to their advances. But she had one condition: she would choose the location.
She would take them to the Cold Storage of a funeral home and lie down on the bed where a corpse once rested.
"If you want me, fine. Let's do it here."
At this point, Luo Xiaoye laughed again. "They're all such cowards; none of them are real men."
She said that those men would see the corpse in the Cold Storage and become so frightened that their legs would go weak. Everything would go weak.
"Ten years ago, she committed suicide in a room filled with roses. Do you know how envious I am of her?"
Luo Xiaoye looked into my eyes and said earnestly, "What you refer to as the Roses Manor Locked Room Murder Case is nothing more than a suicide."
"Are you saying Ling Xiao committed suicide? What about the key?" I frowned, trying to grasp her meaning.
In the movie Mortician Chen Mo, the Japanese actor Motoki Masahiro calmly wiped down the bodies of the deceased and dressed them, wrapping a string of crystal-clear prayer beads around their stiff hands.
However, as a Chinese Mortician, that was simply impossible.
I handled nearly thirty corpses every day; if I were to operate as beautifully as depicted in the films, there wouldn't be enough time.
Luo Xiaoye told me that there are some unwritten rules in our line of work: we do not attend the celebratory feasts of friends and family, we do not bring up our profession with others, we do not hand out business cards, and we do not say "goodbye" or "safe travels" to clients.
We are a special group of people.
"Why?" I asked curiously.
"Because we are associated with darkness." Luo Xiaoye, dressed entirely in black and with a serious demeanor, truly embodied that darkness.
"The last time you told me Ling Xiao committed suicide. Can you tell me why you are so sure?" I tried to find answers in her gaze.
"What if I told you that not only do I know Ling Xiao committed suicide, but I also know who killed Ling Zhiming? Would you believe me?" There was a hint of mystery in Luo Xiaoye's voice.
I asked her, "Why are you saying this?" I didn't understand her.
She extended her left hand to show me her wrist.
Her fair skin revealed clear blue veins. To my surprise, there were numerous scars running along her arteries. At a glance, there were at least a dozen scars, resembling centipedes. The beautiful wrist was marred by these ugly creatures.
"I will die again and again to prove that life is endless," she said softly.
I stared at her wrist, unable to utter a single word.
After a moment, she spoke again: "It's normal for you not to understand. No one understands Ling Xiao either."
"You mean..." I tried to grasp her meaning.
"Of course I believe you; you always manage to surprise me," I replied with a smile.
Luo Xiaoye continued, "The problem arises from what caught my attention in Ling Zhiming's study. It's quite interesting—the books in the study were all pulled out from the bookcase and thrown on the floor.
What does this indicate? Why would the murderer go to such lengths to pull every book out of the bookcase and toss them on the ground? Until this question is resolved, the case cannot be cracked."
"Do you know the purpose behind the murderer’s actions?" I asked curiously.
Comment 0 Comment Count