Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Everyone turned to Jiang He, who was intently staring at a cross-stitch piece. This intricate work, measuring nearly three meters, was so densely stitched that it was nearly impossible to insert another needle. This clearly demonstrated the remarkable sewing skills of the person who created it. Kong Anping had been fascinated by cross-stitching since middle school, and now, five years later, he was still deeply engaged in it.
Noticing Jiang He’s intense focus on the cross-stitch, Old Shao began to pay attention to it as well.
Quickly, the astute Old Shao realized that Jiang He must have spotted some issue with the piece. He stood beside Jiang He and looked up at the cross-stitch. It didn’t take long for Old Shao to understand what Jiang He had noticed.
Old Shao turned to the woman and said, “Kong Anping is indeed not the murderer. The real culprit made a mistake he didn’t even realize, and that mistake is right in front of us.”
The woman wiped her tears and spoke, “Yes, my son could never do something like this.”
Xu Yiman quietly approached and leaned in closer to the two of them, saying loudly, “But all the evidence points to him, doesn’t it?”
Old Shao gently shook his head. “Yes, but as Jiang He pointed out, that evidence is overwhelmingly convincing that Kong Anping is the murderer. The evidence is so comprehensive that it seems absurd. And those tools used in the crime are just like him; they could be thrown into the sea and never found.”
“I should have thought of this sooner,” Old Shao continued. “If he truly felt hopeless, then the words in that notebook would be his last message to the world. And in that notebook, Kong Anping left nothing but how he committed murder; but having already killed someone, those details no longer matter.”
Old Shao sat back down in front of the woman without hesitation. “When a person decides to commit suicide, they have two choices. One is to leave nothing behind; they feel utterly hopeless and have nothing to cling to. The other is to leave behind something—most likely their emotional journey—not a record of their crimes.”
“And remember,” Old Shao added, “the soccer ball we found had a human head inside it.”
Xu Yiman nodded.
Old Shao explained further, “The reason other shop owners called the police was that the Gift Shop owner kicked a soccer ball and a human head fell out. Looking at where the ball was stitched together, you can see that the stitching was quite rough. If it had been done properly, that head wouldn’t have fallen out so easily.”
At this moment, even Xu Yiman understood.
She said, “But that doesn’t necessarily mean it was done intentionally.”
Considering Kong Anping’s mother’s feelings, Xu Yiman refrained from mentioning Kong Anping’s name directly.
Old Shao shook his head again. “A person’s habits follow them throughout their life; subconsciously, Kong Anping would have stitched the soccer ball back together exactly as it was originally. Jiang He, you noticed this too, didn’t you?”
Old Shao turned to look at Jiang He, but in front of the cross-stitch, there was nothing left; where could Jiang He's figure be?
"Jiang He?" Old Shao called out, but no one answered.
Xu Yiman pointed to the open door and said, "It seems like he has already left."
If Wang Chao had been there at that moment, he would not have been surprised, for Jiang He had always been elusive, often disappearing quietly without anyone noticing.
Looking at the open door, Old Shao pondered.
Since Jiang He had left in a hurry, it was clear that he must have discovered who the real culprit was, yet he had not revealed who that person was.
So who could this person be?
This could actually be considered one of Jiang He's traits; he would not disclose information that he could not deduce with high probability. At this moment, Jiang He was on his way to verify whether his speculation was true.
At that moment, Jiang He was on the road, having contacted someone.
Soon, he arrived at this person's home.
Just as he had been informed earlier, it was indeed a large house, and only one person lived there.
"Is it just you?" Yang Feiwen looked at Jiang He standing at her doorstep.
Jiang He remained silent and walked straight in.
Seeing Jiang He's serious expression and his silence made Yang Feiwen quiet as well; she was not an outgoing person to begin with. Especially upon seeing Jiang He like this, she felt even more shy. Jiang He seemed like an imposing leader inspecting a workshop, and Yang Feiwen timidly followed behind him.
Yang Feiwen's home covered an area of about one hundred fifty square meters and was also a duplex building.
Jiang He noticed that Yang Feiwen's house was spotless, with all the furniture being brand-name items.
After that, Jiang He pushed the door and walked into Yang Feiwen's bedroom.
It was a bedroom that was actually better than an average person's entire apartment.
The room was spacious, and it even included a bathroom and a study.
At this moment, Jiang He was standing in the study.
"Do you like watching football?" Jiang He finally spoke after wandering around for more than ten minutes.
Yang Feiwen's face turned red. Standing at seven centimeters shorter than Jiang He, she appeared almost the same height as him, and Jiang He weighed even less than her. He hadn't weighed himself in a long time, but he knew he definitely didn't weigh more than one hundred and twenty pounds.
Jiang He was simply too thin.
The reason he asked this question was that he noticed several photos of football players plastered on the walls of the study.
Yang Feiwen replied softly, "Yes."
"From my experience," Jiang He turned around, "there are very few women who like football. Why do you like it?"
Yang Feiwen began to explain, "Actually, I used to like Beckham. I thought he was handsome, and then I found out that Beckham plays football, so I gradually started to like football. It's been a few years now."
"Did you watch the last World Cup?" Jiang He asked.
Yang Feiwen nodded, "I did."
At that moment, Jiang He recalled Old Shao's words: the culprit must be a football enthusiast.
Jiang He sat down in the study and asked Yang Feiwen, "Do you like eating ice cream?"
Yang Feiwen nodded again.
She was a very honest girl, kind and shy, and quite introverted. Jiang He would ask a question and receive a single answer, nothing more.
Jiang He had a fifty percent chance, but this fifty-fifty probability was something he couldn't settle.
Thus, Jiang He needed to ask Understand some questions.
Jiang He told a story:
Qin Qingxue had few friends, and Yang Feiwen was one of them.
On that stormy night filled with thunder and lightning, Yang Feiwen did not leave. As Qin Qingxue's best friend, she knew that Qin Qingxue had not performed well on her exam, and like Kong Anping, she was very worried about her good friend. That night, besides Kong Anping waiting for Qin Qingxue, Yang Feiwen was also waiting for her.
In fact, Kong Anping did not see Qin Qingxue come out, but Yang Feiwen did.
When Qin Qingxue emerged from the bike shed, her coat was disheveled, tears streaming down her face.
Yang Feiwen did not approach to ask what had happened because she had already guessed everything.
She saw three people hurriedly leaving the bike shed.
About a week later, Qin Qingxue committed suicide.
A plan formed in Yang Feiwen's mind; she wanted to kill those three people and escape unscathed. The best scapegoat would be none other than Kong Anping, who planned to travel to another province. Kong Anping might genuinely want to go on a trip, but she could be lured back by Yang Feiwen through various means.
The first person who should die would be Kong Anping, the one who would be used from start to finish; in fact, she had been dead from the very beginning.
Yang Feiwen stood around five feet seven inches tall. She deliberately wore oversized shoes to appear taller. Similarly, her weight was estimated to be over one hundred twenty pounds; combined with the heavy hammer she carried, her overall weight would easily reach around one hundred forty pounds.
In addition to this detail, there was also a fingerprint discovered by the criminal investigation team on the locker.
From the height of the fingerprint, it was easy for someone around five feet seven inches tall to reach that spot. The reason the murderer left a fingerprint there was that it wouldn't be disturbed by someone in a panic; very few people would touch that area, allowing for a complete fingerprint to remain.
That was the fingerprint that the Murderer hoped the police could find, a deliberate attempt to frame someone.
Moreover, there was one crucial piece of evidence missing from those materials: the Wig. For someone intending to impersonate a female ghost, a Wig was an essential prop, yet none was found at the scene. Everyone had overlooked a significant issue; it wasn't that there weren't girls who could reach heights of over five feet seven inches, nor that a girl couldn't weigh one hundred thirty pounds, and certainly not that one girl couldn't seek revenge for another.
And that person was now standing before Jiang He.
In the so-called last words left by Kong Anping, all it took was to replace Kong Anping with Yang Feiwen because Kong Anping had been dead from the very beginning. A deceased person could no longer defend themselves, especially someone whose body had been thrown into the sea, making it impossible to recover.
So when Jiang He finished telling this story, he looked seriously at Yang Feiwen in front of him and asked, "Are you the Murderer?"
Yang Feiwen, being an honest person, blushed as she timidly replied to Jiang He, "It was me."
"Why?" Jiang He asked.
Yang Feiwen continued to answer only one question, offering no further explanation: "Because she was my friend."
Comment 0 Comment Count