This conclusion was easy to reach.
The scene of Meng Xiangjiang’s death had just been witnessed by Jiang Yan and the others. To get them to leave, Xu Jinhua was forced to reveal some truth. But Jiang Yan lingered, and the others just stood a few steps down the stairs—the manner of Meng Xiangjiang’s death was clearly not natural. Xu Jinhua couldn’t possibly believe they wouldn’t call the police.
Operating on her belief that family scandals must not be aired, she would now call that “expert” at once, and ask: if a doctor examines Meng Xiangjiang’s body, will they discover banned drugs inside, and will the scandal be exposed and spread?
After all, proven statements are far more serious than mere rumors.
This wouldn’t have been a problem, and it matched Xu Jinhua’s usual behavior—but the strange part was how obsequiously she made that call.
Even over the phone, speaking without seeing the person, she instinctively showed a fawning respect.
So this “expert” had to hold considerable social power, able to influence Xu Jinhua’s life with a word.
So far, in all the factory building’s deaths, the only person of such social status Jiang Yan knew was Meng Henshui.
The daughter of the deputy director of the Public Security Bureau.
Once she suspected this, it became very easy to reason out.
Meng Henshui’s status fit that of the “expert” perfectly—someone Xu Jinhua would treat deferentially and obey without question, and who also understood the temperament of all the factory’s residents.
Most importantly, Meng Henshui was entangled in murder cases at the factory.
If she and Su Zhiyu were close, then some of these residents were Su Zhiyu’s killers and deserved her revenge.
If she only used Su Zhiyu, then these residents likely knew her true relationship with Su Zhiyu—knew that Su Zhiyu died because of her, and so she now needed to silence witnesses.
In short, the mattress peddler, the person who hid snakes in the mattresses, and the “expert” misleading Xu Jinhua and the Li Ronghai family were very likely all the same person.
And the strongest suspect was Meng Henshui.
“Who are you?”
Meng Henshui’s voice was very pleasant, almost melodious.
Jiang Yan didn’t answer, just handed the phone back to Xu Jinhua.
The call was still ongoing; Xu Jinhua glared after Jiang Yan as she descended the stairs, not daring to utter a harsh word, only able to keep speaking softly to the person on the line.
Jiang Yan met up with the others on the fourth floor, giving a brief summary of the current situation.
She was no longer anxious about learning Meng Henshui’s motive for killing.
By tomorrow, Meng Henshui would surely come in person, and then she herself would seek Jiang Yan out—her motive would naturally become clear.
Jiang Yan was now puzzled as to how Meng Henshui knew the snakes would take revenge.
Animal abuse is everywhere, so why did Meng Henshui think these old folk would kill rather than release the snakes? And why did she believe that killing them would lead to retribution?
She had inspected those snake scales; they showed no special nature spirit characteristics, all from very ordinary snakes.
Too ordinary—even if killed, they couldn’t take revenge.
So what exactly had killed the three men?
Jiang Yan thought she’d need more time to figure it out, so she told the twins and Cheng Guang to go back. She and Yu Renwan returned to their apartment.
The leftover food on the table was cold; the blood on the ceiling had coagulated into droplets, with a few falling into the rice.
Gurgle—
Yu Renwan’s stomach growled.
She’d barely eaten anything earlier, but looking at the few blood spots on the rice, there was simply no way she could eat anymore.
Yu Renwan hesitated a long while, finally unable to suppress her hunger. “I want to go out for a late-night snack…”
She asked Jiang Yan, “Do you want anything?”
Jiang Yan didn’t even look up. “No.”
Yu Renwan hesitated. “What are you thinking about?”
Jiang Yan said casually, “About what actually killed the three people.”
Yu Renwan didn’t know either and gave a helpless “Oh,” “Wasn’t it the snakes?”
“Not just that,” Jiang Yan replied.
Yu Renwan nodded, stood there a while, licked her lips, then went behind the couch to pick up the crow.
She muttered, “Xiao Wa, I’ll take you for a walk.”
The crow with the red bow tie opened its pebble-like eyes, smoothed its glossy feathers, and squawked a few times.
Yu Renwan whispered, “I’m not, I’m not awkward, I’m not just making conversation.”
The little crow “wa”-ed again.
Yu Renwan secretly glanced at Jiang Yan, then stuffed the crow into its cage and ran out.
Going downstairs, she instructed the crow.
“You really are beautiful, but you can’t just hide behind the couch all day and peek.”
“So what if your eyes are pretty? I’ve given you plenty of beads—and anyway, those are living eyeballs, don’t even think about it.”
The crow slumped in the cage in despair, whacking the bars with its wings.
Yu Renwan murmured, “It’s not that I forgot to dig up grandpa’s eyes for you—they just aren’t good-looking. I’ll secretly get some nice ones next time.”
Crow: “Wa!”
Yu Renwan shook her head quickly, “No, no.”
“We agreed—only steal eyeballs from corpses… Don’t you dare get any bolder…”
The crow pried the cage door open and kicked Yu Renwan in the face.
Yu Renwan: “………”
After the kick, Xiao Wa arrogantly worked the cage open and slipped in again.
“…Kicking doesn’t help,” Yu Renwan muttered. “You do it every day anyway.”
She pulled her shoulders in, hat down, leaving only her pointed chin and bloodless lips visible.
After two minutes of Yu Renwan’s monologue, the livestream chat went silent.
[Can she really understand the crow?]
[I’ve watched a few of Yu Renwan’s streams, seems so.]
[? She actually can?? I thought that was her imagination or something.]
[That crow is weird, isn’t it? Likes dead people’s eyeballs?]
[No, from what Yu Renwan said, it seems to like living ones too.]
[……]
[Maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t Yu Renwan feel off, too?? Even digging out eyeballs is still digging out eyeballs, right? Ah??? Ah???]
[Yu Renwan did say no before, but honestly spoils Xiao Wa—must have dug out 80 or 90, I think.]
[She once tried to steal from the morgue on a mission but was warned by the Administration Bureau. There’s stream footage as proof.]
[A bit wild.]
[….Yu Renwan, don’t spoil him so much.]
[Heh, anyone in our profession is half-mad.]
Yu Renwan lived a frugal life; all she earned went to her mother’s medical bills, so she didn’t wander the night market, just bought a cup of noodles at the shop, and, after much thought, added a marinated egg, then headed home with the birdcage.
Xiao Wa peered around the cage. Suddenly, like he’d spotted treasure, he squawked madly and beat against the bars.
Yu Renwan followed his gaze and saw a blonde, blue-eyed foreign woman.
Under the streetlight, her emerald green irises sparkled like jewels.
“Don’t look,” Yu Renwan scurried away.
Xiao Wa looked pained.
Yu Renwan: “…Maybe when she dies of old age, I’ll keep an eye out…”
Xiao Wa obediently preened his feathers.
Relieved, Yu Renwan checked her phone—it was just past ten. The people in the courtyard were packing up their games. Yu Renwan deftly kept her distance as she passed through, weaving among seven or eight people, and made her way back.
By now, a light fog had settled. From outside, only two or three apartments in the factory building were still lit. Shrouded in mist, the lights seemed to float in midair, leaving an unsettling feeling.
Carrying her birdcage, Yu Renwan climbed the stairs. As she passed the second floor, she recalled seeing Xu Jinhua cowering in the corner last night—she and Jiang Yan had both noticed the old woman’s pupils were vertical, as if she were possessed. Neither had mentioned it.
Tonight, the second floor was normal.
No one was there.
Yu Renwan continued up slowly; the night was quiet, with only her own footsteps echoing in the hallway.
On the third floor, her arm went numb, so she switched hands holding the cage. The sensor light was broken here; now, with one hand holding the cage and the other gripping the bag of cup noodles, there was no free hand to get her phone for light, so she had to guess the stair spacing with her feet.
At last, she reached the fourth floor and let out a breath.
Light from her own room glowed faintly through the door crack. Not wanting to trouble Jiang Yan to open up, she set her things on the floor and fumbled for her key.
Just then, Yu Renwan heard a clear knocking sound.
Thump, thump.
She stopped, looking back. The sound came from the door across the hall.
But there was no one.
Another knock.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Listening closely, she realized it wasn’t a knock on the door, but more like a knock on the window. Using the light from the apartment, she approached the opposite window.
“Anyone there?” she whispered.
A cough answered from inside. Yu Renwan pressed her face to the window, “Wh-what’s wrong?”
A face, mottled with age spots, appeared in her view.
The old man was stooped, his finger poking the window. Yu Renwan took a closer look—his fingertips were tender as if of a newborn, thin and small. Now his tiny finger kept poking the window until it pierced a minute hole.
He pressed his face to the hole, eyes malignantly fixed on her.
The window was covered with paper.
The moment she realized this, Yu Renwan broke into a cold sweat. She stumbled back two steps, feeling something delicate sliding slowly past her ankle. Darkness flooded her vision as she lost her footing and tumbled down the stairs.
Years of bad luck helped her curl up quickly, shielding her head—but her body still slammed into the wall at the half-floor landing. Pebbles scraped several bloody gashes across her forehead.
The pain kept her from getting up.
Gasping, she huddled in the corner. After a while, she shakily felt her forehead and came away with a handful of blood.
After a long time, she wiped her hand on her clothes, took out her phone, and shone her flashlight at the window.
The tiny hole was gone. The old man was gone, too.
Not papered.
Same as last night—something was trying to scare her.
Yu Renwan gave a resigned sigh. Propping herself up, she tried to stand along the wall. But halfway up, she froze, then slowly sat back down, gazing at the corner where she’d hit her head.
The noise her head made—
Yu Renwan looked up at the couplet hanging there, and the bright red banner above:
“Welcome In.”
She tapped experimentally at the wall corner.
The knock rang clear, echoing.
This part of the wall was hollow.
Only this one spot in the wall was hollow.