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墨書 Inktalez
Under Lin Mingchang's persistent insistence, the old man finally led the three of them to the backyard.
At first glance, it was clear that this backyard had not been tended to for many years; the old man likely seldom visited this place. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and there were piles of clutter in the corners. Against the side, there was an Old Well, its opening haphazardly sealed with a few wooden boards that had accumulated a thick layer of dust on their surfaces.
"This is the well; it hasn't been touched since it was sealed," the old man said from a distance, unwilling to approach.
Lin Mingchang borrowed some tools from the old man and quickly pried open the wooden boards covering the well. Xiaoshuang came over to help, and together they moved the boards aside. A wave of cold, damp air surged from the well, carrying a heavy scent of mold and decay.
Shen Tong leaned closer to the edge of the well, where thick black Yuan Qi swirled around the opening like countless tiny tendrils twisting in the air. Her Right Eye even felt a slight sting.
"There might be something in the well," Shen Tong whispered to Lin Mingchang. "We need to... go down and take a look."
Lin Mingchang took out a small flashlight he always carried and bent down to shine it into the well. The well was over three zhang deep, and it was dark inside. The walls were covered in moss, and under the flashlight's beam, a faint reflection of stagnant water could be seen at the bottom.
"The opening is too narrow; I can't fit down," Lin Mingchang assessed. He was broad-shouldered and tall, making it impossible for him to pass through such a tight space.
"I'll go," Ruan Xiaoshuang volunteered eagerly. "I'm smaller, and I brought a camera so I can take detailed pictures of what's inside."
Shen Tong and Lin Mingchang exchanged glances. Although they were worried about what lay beneath, there was currently no better option available.
Lin Mingchang asked the old man for a sturdy roll of hemp rope. He tied one end to an Old Huai Tree in the yard and secured the other end around Ruan Xiaoshuang's waist while he and Shen Tong controlled its length from above.
Shen Tong double-checked that Ruan Xiaoshuang's waist rope was tightly secured but still felt uneasy. "Be careful, Xiaoshuang. If anything feels off, shout immediately so we can pull you back up."
Ruan Xiaoshuang nodded, hanging her camera around her neck. She took the flashlight Lin Mingchang handed her and began to carefully descend using both her hands and feet along the rope.
The walls of the well were slippery, forcing her to grip tightly onto the hemp rope to avoid slipping. As she went deeper, it grew darker inside, and the air became increasingly damp and chilly.
"How's it going?" Lin Mingchang called down from above, his voice echoing in the well.
"Not bad; I'm almost halfway down," Ruan Xiaoshuang replied from below. She pressed her feet against the wall while using her flashlight to illuminate her surroundings.
Suddenly, she noticed a brick about half a foot below her that looked different from those around it on the wall.
"Lower me down a bit more!" The rope slackened as she descended further, eager to examine that brick closely. The gaps around this particular brick were very pronounced, clearly indicating that it had been loosened by human hands before.
She spent a long time prying with her fingers, finally managing to nudge the brick slightly loose before pulling it out with force. Indeed, it was a half-brick that had been split open by someone, revealing a square recess behind it that contained a pitch-black Iron Box.
"I found something!" Ruan Xiaoshuang exclaimed joyfully. "There’s a recess in the well wall, and I’ve discovered a box!" She carefully took out the Iron Box.
At that moment, she caught a glimpse of something red flickering at the bottom of the well. Her heart skipped a beat as she quickly raised her camera and snapped a photo. The flash illuminated the entire well bottom, but aside from mud and sand in the shallow water, there was nothing else.
"Xiaoshuang, it's about time to come up!" Lin Mingchang's voice called from above the well.
Without thinking much, Ruan Xiaoshuang tightly hugged the Iron Box with one arm while gripping the hemp rope with the other. Lin Mingchang and Shen Tong pulled hard on the rope from above, quickly hoisting her out of the well.
Once out, Ruan Xiaoshuang felt an immediate sense of relief, as if she had suddenly shed some invisible weight.
"Xiaoshuang, you don’t look so well," Shen Tong said with concern, handing her a handkerchief.
It was then that Ruan Xiaoshuang realized she was drenched in sweat. She wiped her face with the handkerchief and noticed it had stained with a bit of blood.
"Hey? That's strange; I don’t remember getting hurt."
"It’s from the Yuan Qi in the well," Shen Tong explained as he gently wiped away a trace of blood from the corner of Ruan Xiaoshuang's eye. "The Yuan Qi in this well is too heavy; an ordinary person would be affected if they stayed down too long. Luckily, you were only down there for a short time."
The three of them didn’t have time for further conversation. After hastily bidding farewell to the shopkeeper, they left with the Iron Box in hand.
They arrived at a nearby teahouse and requested a secluded private room before finally opening the Iron Box. Inside, the contents were wrapped in waterproof oil paper and were remarkably well-preserved.
There was a slightly moldy ledger, several yellowed old photographs, and a small piece of embroidered fabric.
Lin Mingchang put on gloves and carefully opened the ledger—it recorded business transactions between the embroidery workshop and several merchants in town. A few familiar names appeared multiple times: Hongda Ticket Office, Huang Family Silk Shop, and Qian Family Pharmacy. These were all family businesses connected to the three deceased individuals.
It was clear that the murderer had chosen these families deliberately rather than randomly.
Meanwhile, Ruan Xiaoshuang focused on the old photographs—one depicted a mother and daughter. The mother appeared to be in her thirties, with a dignified and gentle expression; the daughter looked around sixteen or seventeen, beautiful yet melancholic. The back of the photo bore small writing: "Yuehua and Xiang Lan, Winter 1912."
"This must be the owner of Yulan Embroidery Studio and her daughter," Ruan Xiaoshuang murmured softly, gently tracing her finger over the girl's face in the photograph. "She looks so sad."
Shen Tong picked up the piece of embroidered fabric; it was a small piece of red satin adorned with intricate floral and bird patterns. The stitches were tight and colorful, still stunning even after many years. One corner featured an embroidered magnolia flower along with the words "Yulan Embroidery Studio," identical to the markings on the insides of the embroidered shoes worn by the deceased.
"The craftsmanship is truly remarkable," Shen Tong murmured, feeling the emotions lingering in the fabric—not resentment, but focus and pride. The embroiderer must have poured a lot of heart into it.
"These items were deliberately hidden in the well; the person who concealed them surely didn't want them to be discovered," Lin Mingchang said as he spread the items out. "Xiaoshuang, you should take detailed photos of these before we submit them to the Police Station. We need to keep a copy for our records."
"Okay," Ruan Xiaoshuang nodded in agreement. "I'll head to the newspaper office later to see if there are any old news articles related to Yulan Embroidery Studio."
Shen Tong thought for a moment and said, "My grandmother was a renowned Wang Qi Master in the city and had connections with many of the older residents. I can inquire about it; perhaps I can uncover some old stories related to this."
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