Memories of Murder

Judging by that hunched figure, the man was probably the old security guard.

He was holding a crowbar over a meter long, and even from a distance, he looked murderous.

Bun Head narrowed his eyes, pointed ahead, and asked:

"Is that the old security guard?"

Shunzi nodded and said:

"Looks like him!"

"What the fuck is he doing with that iron bar? Planning to knock us out and hang us from the warehouse ceiling? Has that old bastard had too much to drink?"

Bun Head was scared to death of ghosts, but when it came to people, his courage was something else entirely!

As he spoke, he stood up, snatched Shunzi's iron hammer, and headed toward the rubbish heap where the old guard stood.

The old guard remained standing there quietly, seemingly not afraid of Bun Head in the slightest.

Bun Head had a fiery temper. Afraid he might kill someone, I hurried after him and grabbed him.

"Buddy, don't do anything rash. Isn't Shunzi a cop? Let him handle it!"

Shunzi froze for a moment, then turned around and said quietly:

"Buddy, all he did was lock you in a warehouse. That's not really breaking the law or anything. What am I supposed to do?"

Little Six chimed in from behind us:

"There's a slatted wooden crate in the warehouse with a corpse inside!"

Shunzi jumped at that.

"What? There's a corpse in there? He killed someone too?"

Bun Head nodded and said:

"That old bastard looks like a sicko. He killed more than one. Those things hanging from the ceiling are all human ribs!"

Shunzi swallowed and immediately called the station for backup.

The old guard seemed to notice us calling the police and quickly turned and ran.

Bun Head wanted to chase him, but Shunzi held him back and said:

"Don't chase him, Brother Qiang. He's got an iron bar. It's too dangerous!"

We waited outside the warehouse for over twenty minutes before two or three police cars drove in one after another, their lights flashing.

With the police there to handle the case, the three of us gave our statements and headed back.

Back at the dorm, Bun Head and Little Six went out drinking again.

At eleven sharp, I drove the Route 13 last bus out of the company yard on schedule.

There weren't many passengers that night. For some reason, I suddenly thought of Sixth Uncle. He hadn't appeared again since telling me half a month earlier to go to Tiger Waist Mountain and find the Tiger-Patterned Copper Coin.

Where had Sixth Uncle gone? Why had he asked me to find the Tiger-Patterned Copper Coin but never come to collect it?

At the paper mill stop, I got off to relieve myself, then returned to the driver's seat to prepare for the return trip. Just then, I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Thud, thud, thud...

A pretty young woman in a red dress rushed up and ran onto the bus.

Tang Yao?

I sighed. Things had been going so badly lately. I plucked up my courage and shouted at her:

"The living should strive, and the dead should rest. Are you ever going to leave me alone?"

Tang Yao sat down by the window and merely said flatly:

"Drive!"

Helpless, I closed the door and started the bus.

Along the way, I kept watching the rearview mirror. Tang Yao sat off to the side without a word, doing nothing but looking at herself in a mirror.

I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Tang Yao, right? I'm not going to beat around the bush anymore. Other people might not know, but I know you died ages ago. Stop pretending!"

After saying that, I felt proud of my own boldness, though my legs were also trembling a little.

Tang Yao smiled, put the mirror into her bag, and replied softly:

"Don't you know how much influence a best friend has? Bai Fan and I have known each other for over ten years. You saved my life, and now you curse me to die every day. Aren't you afraid I'll ruin things between you two?"

I no longer cared about any of that and answered loudly:

"Stay away from Bai Fan! If you want something, come after me! The night I saved you by the reservoir, you told me a story about coming back to China to see your boyfriend. That was the dead woman's story in the police records. What else do you have to deny?!"

Tang Yao froze for a moment, then doubled over laughing again. As she rummaged in her bag, she said:

"Sometimes, the truth isn't what you see or hear. For example..."

As she spoke, she held out a photograph.

I didn't believe her bullshit at all and only glanced at it.

Unconcerned, Tang Yao returned to her seat and took out her mirror again, looking at herself from different angles. Neither of us spoke again.

As usual, she got off as soon as the bus entered the city.

When I reached the company, I parked the bus. As I turned to get off, I saw a photograph lying on Tang Yao's seat. She had probably left it there deliberately after I refused to take it earlier.

I walked over and picked it up. To my surprise, it showed Bun Head, me, Little Six, and Shunzi-the four of us meeting at the dump yesterday afternoon.

Had she followed us?

What did she mean by taking a photo like this? Without thinking much more about it, I slipped the photo into my pocket and returned to the dorm.

Bun Head and Little Six still hadn't returned from drinking. I wasn't in the mood to join them. I kept thinking about the old security guard. Why had he killed people? It had to be revenge for something ten years ago! Had the police caught him yet?

If the police had caught him, it would be difficult for me to see him again and get the truth about that fire. If they hadn't found him yet, I might still have a chance.

Had he started the fire ten years ago, or had Old Liu? I had to find out!

Though looking for him was dangerous, I thought it was worth it. At the very least, it was worth it to break the curse that wouldn't let go of Route 13!

I slept well that night and had no idea what time Little Six and Bun Head came back from drinking.

A little after seven the next morning, I got up, ate breakfast, and headed out.

Because a corpse had been discovered in the warehouse at the dump, practically the entire dump had been sealed off. Police officers stood at the cordon, keeping people away.

I looked over from a distance and happened to spot Shunzi helping out inside.

"Hey, Shunzi!"

When Shunzi saw it was me, he hurried over and asked:

"Buddy, what brings you back here?"

I asked nervously:

"Have you caught the old security guard yet?"

"Not yet. He might look hunched over, but he's pretty quick on his feet. We've searched all around here, but he's vanished!"

After saying that, Shunzi thought for a moment, then asked:

"Buddy, don't think I'm being nosy, but what exactly do you want with this old security guard?"

Shunzi was one of us, and I didn't want to lie to him, so I lowered my voice and said:

"It's still about the fire at 2386 Residential Compound ten years ago. I just want to ask whether he really started it."

Shunzi laughed when he heard that.

"Buddy, this old guard spent ten years in prison. From his sentencing right up to his release, he admitted it the whole way. What's suspicious about that?"

I smiled awkwardly too and said:

"It's not that. I just want to hear the old guard say it himself!"

Shunzi was about to speak again when one of his fellow officers called him over to help.

Shunzi called back. Before leaving, he lowered his head and leaned toward me nervously, saying:

"Buddy, because you're friends with Brother Qiang, I've got to warn you. This old security guard is one serious sicko. We've had them examined, and everything hanging from the warehouse ceiling is human ribs. If you really run into him, killing him would count as self-defense!"

With that, Shunzi ran back.

What Shunzi said shocked me. I had never imagined that those neat rows of ribs hanging from the warehouse ceiling really were human ribs!!!

I remembered how that blood had dripped onto my face and hands that night...

Goosebumps rose all over me.

The old guard's whereabouts were unknown, and I couldn't go looking for Old Liu before I had cleared up his involvement.

After thinking it over, I decided to try my luck and wander around the area.

This place wasn't far from 2386 Residential Compound. Around the dump stood some shabby single-story houses. The residents here were probably even poorer than those living in 2386 Residential Compound.

Most of them were elderly people who had drifted here from elsewhere. Unlike the old guard, they didn't rummage through the rubbish heaps. During the day, they pushed carts into the city to collect valuable scrap, then resold it for a meager profit.

I wandered up to a nearby house that looked ready to collapse. Most of its bricks and tiles had weathered away, and several large sheets of black rubber had been laid over it to keep out the wind and rain.

An old woman was sorting pieces of iron and bottles in the yard. Just as I was about to approach and ask some questions, an old man came from a short distance away outside, pushing a tricycle cart piled high with cardboard. When he saw me, he parked it outside the yard, came over, and asked:

"What do you need?"

I asked respectfully:

"Sir, may I ask if you've seen an old man who's not very tall, with a hunched back and severe burns on half his face?"

The old man frowned at that and said:

"Oh dear, several groups of police have come asking about him since daybreak. I really haven't seen him. I heard someone died over at the warehouse?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Yes. It's all right, sir. I won't trouble you any further!"

I turned and saw the tricycle cart piled high with cardboard by the entrance, and thought I'd help push it into the yard.

The old man beamed when he saw me helping. After pushing the cart into the yard, I turned to leave.

The old man called out behind me:

"Young man, you dropped something!"

It turned out that while pushing the cart, I had dropped the photograph Tang Yao had given me the night before.

The old man picked it up and studied it for a long while. His brow furrowed, and he said softly:

"Oh, I think I saw this person a while back, pushing a slatted wooden crate into that run-down warehouse!"

His words really stunned me!!

"A slatted wooden crate?"

The old man nodded, looked up at me, and said:

"Yes, a big, square slatted wooden crate!"

There was only one slatted wooden crate in the warehouse-the one we'd found last night with a dead person inside!!

I took a deep breath.

The corpse in that slatted wooden crate was badly decomposed, so it must have been in the warehouse for a long time. Besides, the old guard had killed the person, but he wasn't even in the photograph!

Who had pushed the wooden crate into the warehouse? Did the old guard have an accomplice?

Or had the old guard not killed the person at all?

The thought shook me to my core! Everyone in that photograph was a brother of mine. Was it Bun Head? Was it Little Six?

What on earth was going on?

After everything I had experienced out here, trust had become a sheet of thin ice that could shatter at any moment!

I steadied myself and said to the old man:

"Sir, tell me-which person in the photograph did you see pushing the slatted wooden crate into the warehouse?"

With a very serious expression, the old man raised his hand and pointed to someone in the photograph!!