TEFSCBSS Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Hunt for the Killer (Part 1)

The moment the coffin door opened, a cold, eerie mist surged toward the crowd. Song Dadu and the others quickly stepped back, waiting for a while until the mist dissipated. After it cleared, they held their oil lamps and looked down.

“It looks like a cellar?” Qingjin Old Three wasn’t sure and asked his bearded second brother.

“Yeah, it really does,” his brother replied.

Ah, poor ancient people, they had no idea what a basement was, nor did they know how long Su Li had spent digging for this one.

It wasn’t ideal to all be clustered at the entrance, so it was Wang Qingmu, the boldest of the group, who snatched an oil lamp and started down the stairs.

“Impressive, Wang Xiucai, truly bold!”

The others praised him, but no one dared move forward until they heard Wang Qingmu’s voice from below, “It’s safe, come on down.”

At the sound of the call, everyone rushed to follow, eager to descend.

As more and more oil lamps were brought down, the previously dim basement became brighter.

The room below was square-shaped, with blue bricks covering the floor, looking surprisingly neat and tidy. It wasn’t too large, and everything was visible. In the center of the room, a wooden bed was positioned with a woman lying on it. Her makeup was exactly like the ghostly woman they had seen earlier at the tombstone.

“Yanran?”

The group exchanged confused glances, unsure why the body had been moved from the coffin to below.

Yanran remained motionless, lying stiffly. Wuzhen, noticing this, immediately spoke up from behind the crowd, “Everyone, I performed a spell earlier to stabilize Yanran’s soul, but it might not last long. While we have the chance, please search for evidence and clues, and leave quickly afterward. Otherwise…”

Wuzhen didn’t finish his sentence, but the group felt a sudden sense of urgency. They quickly moved to the areas where items were kept and began searching.

After some time, they found little beyond blood-written phrases like “I died tragically,” “Little Hong must pay with her life,” and “The dead return to life.” There was also some leftover food, clearly from a recent meal. It seemed someone had eaten here just recently.

Wang Qingmu stroked his chin, feeling puzzled. Didn’t the four suspects all gather together to discuss things earlier? Who else could have entered here?

The key was found in Liu Tuhu’s house, so no one should have had the chance to take it, right?

Turning to Wuzhen, he asked, “Master Wuzhen, may I ask, during our search, were the four of you together the whole time?”

“Of course,” Wuzhen answered somewhat confused, but relieved it was the first truthful thing he’d said all day.

“This doesn’t seem right…” Wang Qingmu frowned.

“What’s wrong? Do you have doubts? I will clear them up,” Wuzhen offered.

Wang Qingmu explained his reasoning and asked Wuzhen if anyone had slipped away to come to the graveyard during the time they were searching.

Wang Bokao, who had appeared at some point, waved a folding fan lightly, “Well, it might not have been someone sneaking in. Maybe Boss Zhao wanted to make this little basement look like the underworld, a world where ghosts dwell, and the food and drink here were likely offerings brought from the grave.”

Wang Bokao’s tone became more certain as he spoke, “Yeah, that must be it!”

Han Yueyi: …

“Ah ba ah ba,” Han Yueyi began to gesture wildly, pointing at Li Tiezhu lying on the ground, making eating motions and mimicking running with a bowl. His point was that during lunch, Li Tiezhu had pretended to have a stomach ache and ran off with a bowl.

Wang Bokao thought for a moment, then asked, “You mean, Li Tiezhu wanted to compete in the poop race after eating?”

Han Yueyi: Goodbye, we’re never speaking again!

Wang Qingmu stepped in just in time, calming Han Yueyi down, “Don’t be upset, I understand now. You’re saying Li Tiezhu left your sight during lunch, right?”

Han Yueyi nodded eagerly, his resolve to recruit Wang Qingmu growing stronger.

It seemed the issue was with Li Tiezhu, so Wang Qingmu turned and walked toward the still-lying Li Tiezhu.

“Brother Li, may I ask, why did you leave during lunch?”

Li Tiezhu glanced at him, then closed his eyes again, completely uninterested.

Wang Qingmu wasn’t discouraged. He continued to chant nearby until Li Tiezhu finally pulled out two soft earplugs and stuck them in his ears.

Wang Qingmu: … Fine, you win.

While the others were anxiously searching, Wang Bokao took a different approach. He noticed a gap under the wooden bed and thought something might be hidden there.

Taking advantage of the others’ distraction, he quietly crawled under the bed. The second man stared in disbelief, unable to believe this bizarre person was his boss.

The underside of the bed was pitch black, with only a faint light illuminating its outlines. Thankfully, it appeared to be very clean, as if someone had often swept it.

Wang Bokao took out a match, blew on it, and began searching under the bed.

The floor was surprisingly clean. Thinking about the ghost stories his grandmother told him, about blood writing beneath beds, Wang Bokao hurriedly illuminated the bed frame. Sure enough!

He nearly shouted but quickly covered his mouth and examined it carefully, his eyes widening with each passing moment.

Yanran below the bed felt a rush of warmth, especially with the previously cool basement suddenly filled with the smells of sweat, bad breath, and feet, giving her a headache.

Fortunately, her sharp ears caught the sound of a clear bell ringing—it was the signal from Boss Zhao.

As the others continued their heated discussion, Yanran quietly sat up behind them.

She straightened her back, lowered her legs, extended her arms, and was about to lunge at the nearest person—unfortunately, it was Qingjin Old Three.

Song Dadu, standing opposite Qingjin Old Three, saw everything. He wanted to warn Old Three, but couldn’t make a sound.

Just as the ghostly woman’s hands reached for Old Three’s shoulders, Song Dadu’s sense of responsibility as the older brother surged forward, overcoming his fear. He bit down on his tongue, using the pain to focus. Reaching out, he grabbed both Old Three and Old Two, pulling them to safety.

Not stopping there, worried the ghost might rush at them, he dragged both men backward, knocking over several detectives in his path.

“Damn, what are you doing, Song?”

“Yeah, are you rushing to be reincarnated or something?”

The others shot him angry glares, waiting for an explanation.

Finally, after a few tense moments, Song Dadu regained his composure, and the breath he had been holding burst out as a shout, “Get back! The ghost has awakened!”

What?

Everyone froze in shock, quickly looking behind them. They saw Yanran standing at the side of the bed, her hands still reaching forward, her face covered in blood and tears.

With a voice as if crying blood, she asked, “Have you found the ones who killed me and my husband?”

Each word seemed to make her take a step forward, and the crowd took a step back until they were backed into a corner, huddling together in fear.

“Tell me, who killed me and my husband? Find the real murderer and bring them to me, and I will spare you!”

Yanran shouted the last line, and suddenly, everything went dark. All the oil lamps went out, and a single beam of light shone on Yanran as she sat on the bed, as if nothing had happened.

Su Li stepped forward, “Everyone, the hunt for the killer officially begins.”

“Each of you will take a small slip of paper from Zhao Si, write your name on it, and then drop it into the box labeled with the name of the suspect.”

“You have one tea time.”

“After that, regardless of whether everyone has voted, the ‘real killer’ will be taken away!”

“Good luck, everyone!”