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墨書 Inktalez
We followed the trail of blood, which was scattered on the ground and continued all the way to the other side of the mountain. After about twenty minutes of walking, we found that the blood trail had vanished. We looked around but found no new traces.
"The blood stops here," Yan Junde said as he observed the surroundings.
I bent down to take a closer look, and indeed, the blood ended here. There were signs of something being dragged across the ground, suggesting that someone had wiped away the bloodstains. Perhaps we were not the only ones who had followed the trail; the person who had injured this individual must have come here as well. We still did not know whether this person was Fangfang or the Killer.
"There are signs that someone fell down from here," Yan Junde said, standing on the slope and gazing downwards. I walked over and noticed that some plants had been crushed, indicating that a heavy object had fallen. On the broken plants, there were still traces of blood.
Yan Junde remarked, "The injured person likely fell from this spot."
I subtly signaled to Yan Junde with my eyes, indicating that this was a trap left by someone; that person definitely did not fall from here. A closer inspection revealed that the cross-sections of the broken branches were cleanly cut, suggesting they had been severed by some sharp object rather than caused by a person falling.
Moreover, there were no footprints in the soil at this drop-off point. The individual had deliberately erased their footprints, but this very act exposed them. When a person is about to fall, their legs instinctively exert force; it would be impossible for them to leave no trace at the edge.
Although Yan Junde and I had not partnered for long, we had developed a rare understanding along the way. The injured person must be nearby; otherwise, they wouldn't have gone through such lengths to create a false impression. If there was anywhere on this slope where someone could hide, it would definitely be above that tree behind us.
I nodded towards the tree, and Yan Junde understood my intention. He suddenly turned and accelerated, leaping up into the tree with agility. In no time at all, he reached the treetop. Then he called out, "There is indeed a woman up in the tree, but she is no longer moving."
As he spoke, Yan Junde moved into a fork in the branches where I couldn't see his actions from below. I only heard him say, "It's a middle-aged woman; this face—it's Fangfang. She has no breath or heartbeat; it looks like she hasn't been dead for long."
"Let's get her down," I said in response to this grim situation.
We were too late! No matter how hard I tried to understand it, I couldn't grasp what motive the Killer could have. Why did she kill those who knew about Baili Village? Why did she also kill Fangfang, who had narrowly escaped before? Was there still some unresolved love-hate relationship in this case?
In the darkness back then, I hadn't clearly seen the Killer's face, but I was certain that she was indeed a woman. What connection did this woman have with Fangfang? What I thought would soon become clear was now shrouded in mystery once again.
Yan Junde carefully lowered Fangfang's body down with both hands while I caught it and gently placed it on the ground. Looking closely, I saw that a dagger was embedded in her abdomen but had not been pulled out. It seemed she understood that if she didn't stop the bleeding in time and pulled out the dagger, it would only hasten her death.
Fangfang had already taken off the clothes she wore while pretending to be the Witch, now dressed in ordinary women's attire. Her hair hung loosely, and the dirt on her face had been washed away. Even after twenty years, she was only forty years old. It was hard to believe that the seemingly eighty-year-old Witch I had seen before was actually her in disguise.
I noticed her hands were tightly clenched, and between her fingers, something resembling paper was visible. Typically, a body becomes stiff between half an hour to two hours after death. Thinking of this, I quickly pried open Fangfang's hand and retrieved the item inside to avoid any situation where tools would be needed to pry it open.
The paper was wrinkled but seemed to have been clutched tightly in her hand, with only a small part stained with blood. As I unfolded it, I realized it was a letter—more accurately, a suicide note—and it appeared to be addressed to us. This suggested that the person she wanted to evade and confuse was not us, but the Killer.
I read through it, and the contents confirmed most of my suspicions. Chen Zhen and Fangfang were college classmates who had been in a relationship during their university years. After graduation, they went their separate ways. Chen Zhen chose to stay in his hometown and became a doctor, wanting to contribute in some way to his community.
However, Fangfang could never forget Chen Zhen. One day, she mustered the courage to visit his hometown. Out of youthful shyness, she did not explain her purpose for coming; she merely said she had fled here seeking refuge. Upon hearing this news, Chen Zhen was overjoyed and planned to marry her in a few years.
But one night, twenty years ago, tragedy struck.
In the letter, Fangfang admitted that the fifty-five people who had died were killed by Chen Zhen as revenge for her. By the time she learned of this, a month had already passed since those events occurred. During that time, Chen Zhen had killed more than ten people. Using his unique position and medical knowledge as a doctor, he spread a virus under the guise of treating patients; then he added hallucinogens to their medications to induce illusions.
Patients came repeatedly for treatment while Chen Zhen systematically weakened their mental state with drugs. The villagers believed they were receiving care but were unknowingly edging closer to the abyss of death.
However, not everyone sought treatment from him. Chen Zhen realized that his revenge plan was becoming difficult to execute. Thus, he turned his focus to studying Hypnosis and how to control others' minds—a pursuit that lasted over a decade. The villagers believed that hiring a master had suppressed the curse, which is why no one else died in the village. They did not know that it was because the Killer had begun researching how to eliminate the remaining individuals.
When Chen Zhen finally discovered how to achieve this goal, he found out he had stomach cancer. As a doctor, he understood clearly that he would never have the chance for revenge in his lifetime; he could not kill all those villagers who had turned a blind eye when help was needed.
According to Fangfang's letter, during that period, Chen Zhen felt deeply lost and saddened—not because he was dying but because he could no longer seek vengeance. Years had passed; Fangfang had long since let go of that hatred and those memories, but Chen Zhen could not forgive himself.
He could not accept that he had been treating such people all along. Finally, one day he claimed he had found a way to kill everyone else. At that point, Chen Zhen had less than two years left to live. Fangfang cried and told him there was no need for revenge; she had moved on; enough people had already died.
Yet Chen Zhen comforted Fangfang by saying he had a plan—one that did not require either of them to take action directly. Since Fangfang had forgotten her hatred, he wanted someone deserving of punishment to carry on this mission instead; Chen Zhen wished for them to experience the pain of losing a loved one just as he did.
Fangfang was confused; Chen Zhen had never told her what to do. What she knew was that in the last two years, Chen Zhen had been going out almost every day without explaining what he was up to. Finally, on the day when Chen Zhen's life hung in the balance, he told Fangfang that everything had been arranged and that within a few years, those people would die one by one.
Fangfang had never believed him until today, five years later. The curse of murder had begun to circulate again, and she started to believe Chen Zhen's words. However, she had no idea how he had accomplished it. She wanted to investigate secretly but found no results. Until she met us, she wanted us to investigate but also didn't want us to uncover the truth about the case from twenty years ago.
So she assisted us in our investigation but only spoke half-truths. Not long ago, she encountered Killer in a cave. Later, Killer filled the passageway with poison gas, originally intended to kill her. Unfortunately for us, we stumbled into the line of fire.
Afterward, she recalled something. She said that when Xiaocao first brought me here, she had asked whether there was such a thing as love magic and why I remained so indifferent toward Xiaocao. Fangfang laughed and said there was no such thing as love magic in the world; those who tried to use it to bind others were truly under the spell of their own feelings.
No wonder Xiaocao looked so dejected at that time. Fangfang described Xiaocao as a kind girl who didn’t know how Xiaocao’s injuries were after leaving the passageway that day. At this point, I didn’t know how to describe my feelings. In the end, I hadn’t been able to protect Xiaocao.
The following words were written in blood; it seemed Fangfang wanted to leave us some clues. However, after examining it closely, I found something strange. Fangfang started by drawing a horizontal hook, seemingly intending to write Killer's name, but after finishing that, she drew three exclamation marks afterward.
This was odd; these three exclamation marks were drawn large. Given the time she had, she could have written Killer's name or description but chose not to do so. Why did she stop her attempt to write Killer's name? Moreover, it seemed clear that she must have known Killer; otherwise, she wouldn’t have left a hook.
I carefully stored the note and then said, "Dezi, immediately notify Director Wang to send someone in. Killer must still be in this mountain; she shouldn't have gone far."
"Understood," Yan Junde replied.
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