Netherworld Investigator

Chapter 309: Long Buhui[1]

I ran over to check Zhang Jiulin's injuries. "I’m alright,” he said, eyes opening in a narrow slit. “The blood isn't mine."

"Did you get him?" I asked.

Zhang Jiulin shook his head, "Unfortunately, he escaped. There’s something I want to ask you. Was your ancestor Song Ci a presiding judge in the criminal court during the Southern Song Dynasty?"

I was taken aback by his words. How did he know? Apparently, two spirits had emerged from the Heartbroken Xun during Zhang Jiulin’s fight with the murderer. One of them was Long Bangguo and the other was a ferocious, bloodthirsty ancient man. The vengeful spirit repeatedly roared the name Song Ci while moving to attack me. In order to protect me, Zhang Jiulin threw caution to the wind and allowed the murderer to escape.

I wasn’t sure what to make of his words. Reason told me it was ludicrous yet Zhang Jiulin’s tone and manner of speaking were so convincing my thoughts gravitated in his favor.

Zhang Jiulin described the murderer’s appearance and asked me if I recalled ever seeing him. But how could I possibly know? The Chronicles of Grand Magistrates only recorded the experiences of my ancestors in the adjudication process of each case, but there were few mentions of the murderers and no illustrations.

We suffered a heavy blow but were lucky there were no casualties. Retreating was our best option since many officers were still unconscious. After Zhang Jiulin assured me he had his methods, I helped Xiaotao up from the ground. Fortunately, we hadn’t suffered any severe injuries. According to Zhang Jiulin, I had stronger Yang energy than the average person, which I could take advantage of by investigating the cemetery.

We headed to a cemetery administrator's cabin and found the room in a mess with empty packets of instant noodles, bread and biscuits strewn all over the ground. I carefully sniffed and caught a whiff of a rotting corpse. I followed the smell till I arrived at a shallowly buried body in the ground behind the cabin. A quick swipe of the soil above revealed the words "Longshan Cemetery Administrator" on the corpse.

It seemed that this cabin was a temporary shelter for the murderer. He killed the original administrator and took over the magpie’s nest himself. When we first arrived, his presence was discovered by the other cemetery administrator, hence the man’s death.

Judging from the large amount of analgesics and cough medicine in the drawer, the murderer was obviously suffering from the biteback of using the xun. Blood-stained toilet paper filled the wastebasket, evident of hematemesis.

“Why hurt others and in the process hurt himself?” Xiaotao shook her head and sighed.

"Those blinded by hatred ignore everything else," I lamented.

I flipped through an old notebook that turned out to be a collection of newspaper clippings. There were articles of Long Bangguo being sent to prison twenty years ago, as well as news of other police officers who were commended for solving the crime and rendering meritorious service. All of these officers had huge red crosses drawn across their faces.

The man’s hatred had been brewing over the past twenty years, and his revenge a plan twenty years in the making! Connecting the dots, it dawned upon me he must have had a close relationship with Long Bangguo. I immediately phoned Wang Yuanchao and asked, "Does Long Bangguo have any living family members?"

"I was just about to call you,” remarked Wang Yuanchao. “Long Bangguo's household registration only includes him and his dead parents. I only learned after visiting his former neighbor this afternoon that he actually has a younger brother! However, the two hadn’t contacted each other in twenty years and his younger brother has denied any blood relationship with Long Bangguo on all legal documents."

Xiaotao leaned in to listen. "Has he been preparing for this since twenty years ago?" I wondered out loud.

"That’s impossible,” inserted Xiaotao. “How old was he back then? I think there’s a more realistic reason. Long Bangguo was a convict, and relatives of criminals are often discriminated against. That’s probably why he denies having an older brother."

I perused the newspaper clippings on the table and deduced, "Although he denies it, he still remembers the vendetta from all those years ago."

When questioned what his younger brother's name was, Wang Yuanchao replied, "His birth name was Long Xingguo but he changed his name to Long Buhui later on. I’ll send you his photo."

"Long Buhui?" I repeated the name. The meaning of it alone spoke volumes about his determination to seek revenge for his brother.

Henceforth, I descend into Hell, no complaints, no regrets.

I closed my eyes and the vague outline of the murderer in my mind gradually grew clearer. He was good at hiding his thoughts so an introverted appearance, slim, thin lips, steady eyes, and constantly plagued by dark eye circles.

At this moment, a WeChat notification rang, prompting me to open my eyes. The photo from Wang Yuanchao was similar to what I imagined but I seemed to have seen the man somewhere. After a considerable period of staring at the photo, I suddenly cried, "I ran into this young man near the city bureau last night. At the time, I thought the murderer was Long Bangguo so I let him go!"

“Don’t blame yourself,” comforted Xiaotao. “We all thought the killer was Long Bangguo."

The phone rang again; it was Director-General Cheng. "Song Yang, five minutes ago, Officer Luo committed suicide in the hospital using an empty syringe,” he reported.

His words were a bolt from the blue. Why did Officer Luo still end up dead?

"What about Pockmark Li?"

“Pockmark Li is safe and sound. Officer Luo wasn’t influenced by the music,” Director-General Cheng seemed to choke with emotion. “He was afraid of implicating more innocents so he decided to end his life. Before he died, he sent me a long text, saying that he wanted to do one last thing for the people of Nanjiang City so he wouldn’t desecrate the badge he wears. Lao Luo was really one of our finest."

"According to our investigation, the murderer is Long Bangguo's younger brother–Long Buhui. Now his remaining target is you. He doesn’t have much time left after suffering the backlash from the Yin object. So he’ll certainly come to you."

"You’re wrong!” came a voice from behind me. “His next target is you!"

When I turned around, I noticed it was Zhang Jiulin who had spoken. "Your Yang energy has stimulated the evil spirit residing in the Heartbroken Xun. He’s mistaken you for Song Ci which makes me almost certain his next target is you!"

Director-General Cheng demanded an explanation of the matter. I simply put the phone on speaker and narrated the ins and outs of the situation. Although astonished, Director-General Cheng was easily convinced after all he had come face to face with. "We can't risk it on chance,” he said after a moment’s contemplation. “Right now, the safest option is to let me stay with Song Yang. That way, the worst outcome will be our deaths alone and no innocent casualties."

"Alright then,” Zhang Jiulin nodded. “I’ll prepare to deal with the Heartbroken Xun, but I’ll need Song Yang's cooperation."

"This is a good place to wait for the murderer," I added.

"Are you stupid?” laughed Zhang Jiulin. “This is a cemetery. It's very Yin at night. We’ll have to switch to a more advantageous location."

"I don't quite understand what you mean by Yin and Yang energy,” I frowned. “I have a question. Why is the murderer able to attack us with accuracy each time? Can this also be explained by that theory?"

"Everything in this world is filled with energy,” Zhang Jiulin began. “What these lingering spirits see is different from what ordinary people see. If you don't believe me, I'll open your eyes now."

He grabbed a small vial which contained dark red liquid, and touched both Xiaotao and my eyelids. When I opened my eyes again, I saw "people" all over in the cemetery, many of whom had broken limbs, missing jaws and rotten intestines. Xiaotao exclaimed in horror and hugged my arm. "Song Yang, are those... ghosts?" she faltered.

My reaction was milder in comparison. My new view of the world prompted a sharp intake of breath. Zhang Jiulin looked dubiously at the vial in his hand and muttered to himself, "That’s strange… Is crow blood not effective on you?"

"I can see,” I answered. “There’s a whole cemetery of ghosts. What's the big deal?"

Choking back his surprise, Zhang Jiulin smiled, "Your extraordinary courage certainly qualifies you as a descendant of Magistrate Song!"

1. Meaning no regrets.