Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Wu Xiufen indeed had a younger sister named Wu Xiufang. The photo on the bedside must be of Wu Xiufang. Wanghu Village has always had such customs; those who die unjustly must be honored with black paper offerings. Wu Xiufen and Wu Xiufang are from Wanghu Village and believe in these traditions, so when Wu Xiufen burned black paper, it was essentially for her sister.
Earlier, a villager had seen a female ghost weeping at the tombstone. Who could this female ghost be?
At that moment, Liu Jixu said to me, "The Wu family has three children: Wu Jianguo, Wu Xiufen, and Wu Xiufang. These three children often spent their time in the factory, and as they grew up, they naturally inherited their father's craft. The son was responsible for the firing process, while the daughters handled the glazing."
I asked, "And then?"
Liu continued, "Later on, all three got married, but even after marriage, the whole family continued to work at the Red Mill Factory since it was quite profitable back then. Eventually, Lao Wu's health declined, and the factory had to be passed down to the next generation. However, the old mindset prevailed: inheritance went to sons, not daughters."
I frowned and tugged at my hair before saying, "You’re not telling me that Wu Xiufang committed suicide over this matter, are you?"
Liu nodded and replied, "That's exactly it. According to Wu Jianguo, when their father’s health deteriorated, he called everyone to his bedside regarding the Red Mill Factory. Naturally, he intended to pass it on to his son; that was how things were done in those days—this was the custom throughout the village."
"I know."
I certainly understood this; just a few decades ago, the preference for sons over daughters was widespread in rural areas. It was normal for sons to inherit their father's legacy. Daughters were often referred to as water poured out once married—belonging to someone else's family. Fortunately, such views have become less common today.
Liu sighed and said, "While he was still clear-headed, the old man handed over the factory to his son Wu Jianguo and gave each daughter a few thousand yuan. You can imagine how valuable a few thousand yuan was over forty years ago. Although most of it went to his son, villagers thought Lao Wu treated his daughters fairly."
"Did this unequal distribution lead to her suicide?" I asked. This kind of scenario is something I often encounter in real life, leading many to question whether their siblings are truly family or adversaries.
"A cliché story," Liu remarked. "But that's how it was with Wu Jianguo. At first, Wu Xiufen could accept it; however, Wu Xiufang couldn't stand it. She felt her share was too small and wanted her father to sell the factory and divide the proceeds equally among them."
This method of distribution seemed fair enough. From this perspective, Wu Xiufang didn’t seem unreasonable.
"That makes sense," I said.
"Indeed," Liu replied with a click of his tongue. "If viewed through modern lenses, Wu Xiufang's actions were quite justified. However, from the perspective of the older generation's beliefs, a married daughter daring to contest her brother for family assets would be seen as unfilial and unjust."
After a pause, Liu added, "So they remained at an impasse. Because of this dispute over inheritance, they lost interest in managing the factory and workers began leaving. The factory represented their father's lifelong effort; he didn't want to sell it off easily. He offered Wu Xiufang ten thousand yuan—a significant sum back then—but she still refused."
"Finally, there is one," Liu's voice carried a hint of weariness. "Wu Xiufang caused a stir over the inheritance, arguing fiercely with her siblings. A once-thriving factory is now on the brink of collapse, and three close siblings have become strangers. Just as Wu Xiufang was about to hang herself, the old man suddenly passed away. Wu Jianguo and Wu Xiufen rushed into the room."
"They were both involved in the confrontation with their father and hurriedly tried to administer first aid, but it was futile. At the moment of death, the old man glared at them, cursing that none of them were worth anything." Liu spoke slowly. "They all knew that their father had died from anger caused by the three of them. When they came out, they found Wu Xiufang had hanged herself as well."
I quickly asked, "She just died like that?"
Liu replied, "It wasn't just like that. While Wu Xiufang was causing a scene, her siblings were inside watching over their father. Wu Xiufang probably didn't intend to commit suicide; she was just trying to scare her father. But unexpectedly, she slipped and truly hanged herself."
Liu sighed and continued, "You know how it is—when someone is hanging, the rope compresses the trachea, making it hard to make any sound. Moreover, Wu Jianguo and Wu Xiufen were focused on their father; no one thought that Wu Xiufang would die like this. With both of them gone, there was nothing left to fight over. The factory ultimately went to Wu Jianguo, while Wu Xiufen took thirty thousand yuan and left for another place, never to be seen again by her brother. Listen, Wu Xiufen left her husband and children behind and ran off to who knows where."
Hearing this, I couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness; I hadn't expected the downfall of Moulin Rouge to be accompanied by such a tragic story.
"After Wu Xiufang's death, Wu Xiufen and Wu Jianguo discovered that Wu Xiufang had actually had a child with her husband long ago; they just never dared to bring him out because he was born deformed. So even their own brother and sister never knew that Wu Xiufang had a son who was already five years old when she died."
"A deformed son?" I asked. "From this perspective, deformities come in many forms; what kind of deformity are we talking about?"
Liu said, "Wu Jianguo only caught a distant glimpse of her son during Wu Xiufang's burial. Just that one glance—he couldn't see clearly at all—and after that, he never saw him again. He didn't know what kind of deformity it was. Later on, both he and his sister Wu Xiufen regretted it because while sorting through Wu Xiufang's belongings, they realized that the large sum of money she needed was actually for treating her child's deformity."
At this point, Liu's tone was filled with regret: "Wu Xiufang had always been very stubborn; she never showed her vulnerable side to anyone. Perhaps because of this trait, she refused to let her five-year-old child go outside or reveal the truth about their situation. Otherwise, I believe their father and siblings would have helped her financially."
After hearing this story, I felt an indescribable emotion stirring within me. Yet I sensed something was off but couldn't pinpoint what exactly.
"Their mother died early; now their father and sister are also gone," Liu continued. "None of them had the heart to run the factory anymore. Moreover, this scandal spread widely in Wanghu Village; eventually, both of them moved away from there and never saw each other again. However, Wu Jianguo really wanted to see his sister again and talk with her."
Liu's voice was calm: "Wu Jianguo's health isn't good either; seeing even one remaining family member would at least give him some peace before he dies."
I spoke up: "Meeting once is still possible; it's just that there may not be a chance for conversation anymore. Just a few moments ago, Wu Xiufen was killed by a murderer."
"Wu Xiufen was killed by a murderer?" Liu asked in surprise.
"That's right. By the way, did you ask Wu Jianguo about the Twelve Bowls story? You learned about the Twelve Zodiac Signs bowls from Wu Xiufen; that's why you concluded that the murderer intended to kill Wu Jianguo's entire family since their zodiac signs corresponded to rooster, dog, and pig."
Liu fell silent for a moment before speaking. "You've figured it out. I did indeed make my judgment based on that point. Naturally, I inquired about this matter, Wu Jianguo. The last batch of bowls was made by Wu Xiufen for Wu Xiufang. Wu Xiufen didn't know that Wu Xiufang's child was already several years old; she thought they had no children at all, so she made a set of these bowls to give to Wu Xiufang's future child."
"I heard that Wu Xiufang really liked the Twelve Bowls," Liu Jixu said. "But after Wu Xiufang passed away, her husband took nothing with him and left with the child. Later, the factory ceased operations, and the Twelve Bowls were given away along with the other bowls from the factory. As for who received them, that's unclear."
A sudden thought struck me: perhaps the Murderer didn't discard the bowls after each murder but instead aimed to kill those who owned the Twelve Zodiac Signs bowls and retrieve them one by one. Mary mentioned that someone was purchasing this batch of bowls online, yet the identity of the buyer remained unknown.
If the Murderer possessed advanced computer skills, then it was likely that he was behind this information! Those individuals might have been people who once sought to sell the bowls to the Murderer at a high price. Consequently, all of them were killed by him.
Freaks—the Zodiac Bowls that my mother cherished—everything might be connected as a whole.
I spoke up, "Liu, do you know if Wu Xiufen has ever mentioned anything to you? She married into Xingdong Village. The man she married clearly wouldn't live long. Perhaps it wasn't because Wu Xiufen loved him, but because she was already married in Wanghu Village and needed to find a husband who wouldn't live long so she could have a reason to stay here."
Liu Dao replied, "That's right! But what does that matter now? This happened many years ago; Wu Xiufen's husband and son might have long believed she was dead."
"Find out about Wu Xiufen's husband and son!" I insisted. "Wu Xiufen lied to us both, and Wu Jianguo's account isn't necessarily trustworthy either. We need to investigate... Also, we need to look into Wu Xiufang's husband and son as well..."
At that moment, another call came through on my phone—it was Mary.
I told Liu to carry on with his work and then answered Mary's call.
"The fourth story has emerged."
Comment 0 Comment Count