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墨書 Inktalez
The night grew deeper, as if a large black curtain had been drawn before our eyes, obscuring everything beyond. Liu got into the car without looking back at us. The vehicle moved away, and in the darkness, we could only see the red glow of its taillights tracing a line through the night before it quickly disappeared around the corner.
The hum of the engine seemed to resonate in our minds, stirring a sense of irritation.
Gu Chen, who had always held reservations about Liu, fell silent at that moment.
After a while, it was Guan Zengbin who broke the silence. “What should we do now? If Liu manages to catch the murderer first, we might have to leave Dongxing City.”
I turned to look at Guan Zengbin and said softly, “Honestly, it doesn’t matter where we are.”
Guan Zengbin stood on his tiptoes, stretched his body, and yawned widely before speaking again. “Yeah, I’m indifferent. Our main task is to find Zhao Mingkun. As for everything else, whether we’re in Dongxing City or somewhere else, if there’s a case, we’ll investigate it; if not, we’ll focus on finding Zhao Mingkun.”
Gu Chen shrugged and added, “I don’t mind either, but I’m not willing to let someone else get ahead of us. Besides, isn’t his direction wrong? There’s still plenty of time. Since Liu doesn’t trust us and won’t share the crucial clues with us, we’ll just have to uncover those clues ourselves.”
I sighed and smiled wryly. “That’s not my concern. From my reasoning, Liu has definitely walked into a dead end. I’m not sure what clues he has grasped, but given the current situation, he won’t find the murderer before us. Of course, if he can overturn his original assumptions, maybe he will.”
I turned to leave and looked up at the star-filled sky. “What I mean is that no matter where we go, as long as there are people, there will be darkness; where there are people, there will be murders. It doesn’t matter if it’s abroad or domestically; whether in cities or rural areas, human nature remains the same.”
Liu’s farewell made us realize that when it comes to power, he desires to grasp it more tightly than we do. This was evident from Liu buying lottery tickets for three consecutive years. I didn’t know why he was so short on money; he had never mentioned it. However, I understood that as long as it didn’t break any laws or rules, Liu would never give up even the slightest hope.
“What should we do now?” Guan Zengbin looked at me.
“Wait,” I replied. “Our breakthrough lies with this bowl. I believe that for the murderer, this bowl holds significant meaning and surely wasn’t just casually obtained. Since we already know the factory that produced it—though it was over a decade ago—I’m sure Mary has the capability to locate these people and this place.”
Before long, noon arrived.
When Mary placed an address before us, Gu Chen stood up with unfinished noodles still in his mouth and asked, “Is this the manufacturing address of that bowl?”
Mary nodded and pointed at the map. “Exactly! And there’s good news. Through online information, I found one of the responsible persons from that factory back then. Actually, ‘responsible person’ might be an overstatement; it was more like a workshop run by a few families because it was a small factory and didn’t produce much.”
We nodded in agreement.
Mary continued, "Later, Dongxing City began to develop, and various large companies were established, but they all went bankrupt within a year. However, I managed to find the address of one of them, which I have given you. The person's name is Wu Xiufen, and she is already over sixty years old. This is a family-run business, and their accounts are generally not very formal. I wonder if you still remember these bowls."
I quickly took a few bites of the rice in my bowl and said, "Whether we remember or not, back then Dongxing City was just that kind of place; no one would go far to buy bowls. So, the Murderer's home must be very close to here. Otherwise, the person who delivered the bowls to the Murderer lives nearby."
"Let's go!" I said as I grabbed a napkin to wipe my mouth.
This address was in Dongxing City's Old Town District. It would take at least three hours by car, assuming there was no traffic. We drove onto the Fifth Ring Road without worrying about anything else. When we finally arrived at the location, it was already a desolate wilderness.
Finding such a peaceful and tranquil village in Dongxing City was not an easy task. In the fast-paced life of the big city, we had become accustomed to rushing around. This village used to be called Dongxing Village, but after Dongxing City was established, it was renamed Xingdong Village.
"That's it up ahead," Gu Chen said as he parked the car on the road and pointed to a house.
The door was still wooden, looking weathered and old, showing its age.
We approached and knocked on the door. After a long wait, a hoarse woman's voice called out, "Who is it?"
As she spoke, the door swung open, revealing an elderly woman. She appeared kind and gentle, giving off a warm and friendly vibe. She looked at us with curiosity and asked, "Who are you looking for?"
Guan Zengbin clearly stated our identities and inquired about Moulin Rouge.
The elderly woman nodded; indeed, she had run Moulin Rouge back in the day.
With that, she welcomed us inside.
It was an ordinary farmer's courtyard with three main rooms in the center and east and west wing rooms on either side. The elderly woman led us into the main room, inviting us to sit down while she poured us some water to drink.
I sat down in a chair, surveying the home around me. It had not been maintained for a long time; the walls were cracked and peeling everywhere. From the furnishings, it was clear that the old lady lived alone. Whether it was the table set with dishes or the pairs of shoes piled by the door, or even the single blanket on the bed, everything indicated this fact.
I wondered if this elderly woman had lost her partner or if she had never had one at all.
My gaze drifted forward, landing on a picture frame by the head of the bed. The photo depicted a beautiful young woman dressed in coarse fabric, yet her youth and beauty shone through. In the background was a truck, with a country road stretching behind it.
From the photo, it was evident that this woman shared similar eyes with the old lady; it seemed to be a picture of her from her younger days. Guan Zengbin stuck out his tongue and picked up the frame, glancing at the date in the lower right corner—it was an old photo from over thirty years ago.
"Your grandmother looked quite beautiful when she was young," Guan Zengbin said, shaking the frame lightly with a smile.
The old lady turned her head to look at the photo and smiled faintly. "Yes, back then I was quite the flower of the village. The line of suitors waiting to propose could stretch from East of the Village to West Village Entrance."
But after that, her smile faded. It was replaced by an inexplicable sadness, tears welling up in her cloudy eyes.
We had no idea what had happened or what sorrowful memories were haunting her.
After placing the frame back down, Guan Zengbin approached and took hold of the old lady's hand. "Grandma, what's wrong?"
She rubbed her eyes with her hand and said, "Whenever I think about that time, I can't help but remember my husband. It's been over ten years since he passed away; I’m not far behind him now. You know, as we grow old, we forget many things, but some memories are ones we can never shake off."
"Your grandmother was so beautiful when she was young; Grandpa must have been quite lucky to win your heart," Guan Zengbin said softly. "I imagine you must have been happy together."
The old lady waved her hand dismissively. "Let’s not talk about those things anymore; it’s all fate. Whether good or bad, high or low, whatever life gives you is what you have to bear. But once you can’t hold on anymore, there are no more chances left."
I furrowed my brow; there seemed to be deep meaning in her words.
The old lady sighed again and asked, "What did you come here for?"
Guan Zengbin opened his phone and clicked on the photos of the bowls he had taken. He then said, "Grandma, we know that your family used to run a factory, the Red Mill Factory, right? Take a look, are these bowls made by you?"
With that, Guan Zengbin handed his phone to the grandmother.
The grandmother looked at the photos on the phone and pondered for a moment.
"Yes," she replied. "Our factory has been in operation for decades; it was my father's business. Many years ago, things were not like they are now, with everything automated and done by machines. Back then, we did everything by hand. The women in our family were responsible for glazing."
I interjected, "So, the designs on these bowls were all painted by you personally?"
The grandmother nodded and said, "Yes, we painted them ourselves. But later on, as the country developed and machines came into play, others produced better quality items at lower prices. Gradually, our factory began to decline. My father was unwilling to sell what he had built over his lifetime. Even though we made some money during those years, we continued working; most of what we produced was given away rather than sold."
"Then who took these bowls? Or who bought them?" I asked next.
The elderly woman touched her nose thoughtfully and replied, "I don't know who took these bowls. However, I vaguely remember that this set consisted of twelve pieces."
"Twelve pieces?" we echoed in unison.
The grandmother nodded seriously and said, "I personally made these bowls, and I painted all the designs myself. It's a set of the Twelve Zodiac Signs. You see, you have the Rat, Rooster, Dog, and Pig; there should be eight more bowls."
Eight bowls, eight dead people.
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