Chapter Seventy: The Scene of Tragedy

After the notification sounded, something new appeared in Fang Mu’s mind.

“A letter…”

He didn’t take it out right away, but waited until the autopsy was finished before leaving the examination room.

“Brother Fang,” the constable approached and asked, “Did you find anything?”

Fang Mu nodded. “The victim’s body shows multiple external wounds, all small and densely packed. The largest wound is on the head. It’s possible that the fatal injury was a heavy blow to the head.”

“I see…” The constable replied, “The body was found in the wilderness, and the head had struck a hard stone.”

Fang Mu hefted his wooden case. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading off.”

He was certain the case involved something unnatural. The constable’s usual methods were useless here. Fang Mu thought about the letter he’d just obtained, planning to examine it at home.

The constable realized he was leaving and quickly escorted Fang Mu out of the county office. Throughout the process, Magistrate Wang didn’t say a single word.

Fang Mu left the county office and went straight home.

Sitting at his table, he took out the letter he had just received.

There was nothing on the envelope; Fang Mu unfolded the letter and read its contents.

“From Dongfeng to Jinglong, separated by distance, though I have not seen you day after day, my longing remains…”

It was a letter of yearning—line after line expressing deep longing.

From the self-address in the letter, referring to herself as “your humble wife,” it was clear the sender was a woman.

“Dongfeng…” Fang Mu pondered for a moment, thinking, “Dongfeng County.”

Jinglong County was under the jurisdiction of Dongfeng County, so the “Dongfeng” mentioned in the letter likely referred to that region.

“Interesting.”

Fang Mu smiled.

This letter had been found on the corpse of Sun Chang, the master of the Sun family, and it was a love letter. That suggested two likely scenarios.

Based on the sender’s location, either the letter was written in Dongfeng County and sent to Sun Chang, or the sender was in Jinglong County, and the recipient was in Dongfeng County.

Either way, the identity of the letter’s author warranted closer investigation.

A crime of passion? Or was someone killed for love? With the involvement of the supernatural, the matter had grown increasingly tangled.

What’s more, why had the servant died as well?

He had clearly died at the hands of something unnatural, yet there were obvious signs of homicide around his neck.

Fang Mu considered two options: one, to question Madam Zhao in the jail; two, to go to Dongfeng County and look for the other person mentioned in the letter.

After some thought, Fang Mu decided he would do both.

Why choose one when he could have them all?

“Swish! Swish! Swish!”

A flurry of afterimages flashed by as A Bai deftly set a table full of dishes.

Having been busy with the autopsy, Fang Mu hadn’t eaten yet.

Seeing A Bai’s expectant look, Fang Mu patted the boy’s head and praised him warmly.

After dinner, once A Bai had tidied everything away, Fang Mu shouldered his wooden case and headed for the county office.

…

At the county jail.

Madam Zhao sat on a straw mat, staring at the dark corridor, her whole being listless.

Behind her, the women of the Sun family huddled together; the men were confined in another cell.

“Madam,” a maid approached and draped a thin garment over her shoulders. “The cell is damp, you must take care of yourself.”

Madam Zhao nodded absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on the darkness beyond.

The maid sighed and retreated to a corner to rest against the wall.

Night deepened. The women all fell asleep, except for Madam Zhao, who leaned against the bars, staring blankly into the darkness.

Tap… tap… tap…

At that moment, faint footsteps echoed in the corridor.

Madam Zhao, previously dazed, immediately became alert, terror spreading across her face.

Tap… tap… tap…

The footsteps drew closer. Madam Zhao left the bars, wanting to call for the servants, but when she looked back, she found they had all vanished, replaced by a dense, black fog.

Tap… tap… tap…

The steps stopped before the cell door. Madam Zhao turned in horror, only to see a ghastly face—pale, with nothing but a gaping mouth.

She opened her mouth, ready to scream, but found herself paralyzed.

Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as her jaw was forced open by a pale hand, its fingers clamping around her tongue and yanking it out.

The hand that had pried open her mouth closed into a fist, and a severed tongue flew free.

Pain overwhelmed her, but not a sound escaped her lips.

That ghastly hand continued upward, brushing past her mouth and nose, finally reaching her eyes.

Madam Zhao trembled all over, feeling the hand exerting force.

Blood spattered—

Both her eyeballs were gouged out by the deathly pale hand, and she remained paralyzed, able only to shudder faintly.

The ghostly hand then seized her arms and bent them outward—

A crack rang out, and both her arms broke.

Once finished, the pale hand withdrew, vanishing into the cell.

The black mist dispersed, and Madam Zhao’s body suddenly relaxed. A wretched scream split the air.

The other women in the cell awoke in terror, and upon seeing the scene, a chorus of shrieks erupted.

“Someone help! Madam has taken her own life!”

“Sir, constable, please save us!”

“Help! I’m scared—ugh…”

Amidst the chaos, a ghastly face faded away into the darkness.

Night deepened. As Fang Mu arrived at the county office after dinner, he heard an uproar within.

He wondered, at this hour, what could be causing such commotion?

Nonetheless, he nimbly vaulted onto the wall, surveying the courtyard within.

“Hurry! The suspect bit off her tongue, gouged out her eyes, and broke both hands—save her!”

“Fetch the doctor, quickly!”

“Keep the other suspects calm, don’t let them harm themselves!”

In the courtyard, Madam Zhao of the Sun family was a blood-soaked, tragic sight.

Her eyes were mangled, blood poured from her mouth, and her hands hung at grotesque angles—clearly broken.

Magistrate Wang was at the center, directing the frantic constables and officers as they struggled to save her. The scene was utter chaos.

Fang Mu didn’t rush down. What he saw was too strange.

He had come to speak with Madam Zhao, but she had already suffered this terrible fate. Yet why hadn’t she been killed outright? Why mutilate her eyes, tongue, and hands instead?

If someone wanted to silence her, they could have simply killed her—why go to such lengths?

Soon the physician arrived. After intense efforts, Madam Zhao’s condition stabilized somewhat, but she was little more than half alive.

Fang Mu frowned, and suddenly a current of internal energy stirred within him, prompting him to look in a certain direction…