Chapter Fifteen: Diary

“Wait!” Lin Ran suddenly paused the video, realizing he had overlooked an important detail. Where had that shadow appeared from? He must have missed this crucial question! Quickly, Lin Ran watched the video again, searching for any clues. The bed? Under the bed! Judging from the direction of the bloody handprint, it must have crawled out from beneath the bed! Lin Ran silently reproached himself—how could he have ignored what lay under the bed?

Having pinpointed the problem, Lin Ran hurried to Fan Beixiao, grabbed his gear, and rushed to the villa by taxi. Upon arrival, he went straight to the room where the two children had stayed, certain that something must be hidden under the bed. He moved the bed aside and what he saw shocked him—a bright red carpet was spread across the floor under the bed.

Normally, a carpet would be laid at the doorway; why would it be here? Lin Ran slowly lifted the carpet and discovered, to his astonishment, an iron door about the width of a person beneath it, secured with a lock. Lin Ran’s expression did not change much upon seeing the door; it was just as he had suspected.

Perhaps the children’s family, worried they might venture down and be unable to return, had covered the entrance with a red carpet, making it less conspicuous. Lin Ran turned on his ultraviolet lamp and examined the area beside the iron door. The floor was covered with dense bloody handprints. In addition, he spotted some scattered footprints—clearly a woman’s.

Glancing at the lock securing the iron door, Lin Ran went to the kitchen and fetched a hefty knife, likely used for chopping bones, along with a flashlight, then returned to the room, intent on breaking the lock. The answers he had long sought surely lay below.

The lock was not particularly sturdy; after a few strikes, Lin Ran broke it. As he opened the iron door, a strange odor wafted up, making him frown. Whether the smell was leftover from the house or came from below, Lin Ran could only identify a faint stench of decay.

With the morning’s experience in mind, Lin Ran did not rush down. Instead, he shone his flashlight into the opening and saw a long staircase descending below—twenty or thirty steps at least.

He waited at the entrance for a while, allowing the air to circulate, before finally descending. One hand held the flashlight, the other the ultraviolet lamp, illuminating his path. Strangely, the bloody handprints stopped at the threshold of the iron door, leaving only the footprints.

At the bottom, Lin Ran swept his flashlight around and saw the space was filled with old, dust-covered furniture, haphazardly piled to one side.

Yet the basement was quite spacious, roughly the size of three or four rooms, though crammed with furniture. Every piece was thick with dust. Suddenly, Lin Ran noticed a corner that was bare—no furniture at all. Curious, he walked over and discovered that, while the surrounding area was dust-covered, the center was spotless. Judging by the size, it must have been where the wardrobe from upstairs had stood.

“Huh?” Just as Lin Ran turned, he felt something soft beneath his foot. Glancing down, he found a black notebook. Intrigued, he picked it up and flipped to the first page.

It was a diary, unmistakably a woman’s, as revealed by the neat, delicate handwriting.

“Lin Fangmei?” Lin Ran noticed the name written in the lower right corner. So, this diary belonged to Lin Fangmei.

As he leafed through the pages, he found mostly trivial daily entries. But between the lines, Lin Ran realized this Lin Fangmei must have been the lady of the house.

As he read on, his expression shifted from surprise to shock. The later entries described how Lin Fangmei had accidentally overheard her two servants—who, astonishingly, were a married couple—plotting to harm her, with the intention of seizing the villa for themselves.

“All who covet my house shall meet a dreadful end!” When Lin Ran read this line, a chill ran through him and his face turned deathly pale. He suddenly recalled the mad old man’s words.

“That place is cursed by her! That place is cursed by her! That place is cursed by her!” The phrase thundered through Lin Ran’s mind like a bolt from the blue.

Could it be that the old man’s words were true? If so, the mysterious deaths of that family of four would finally make sense. Lin Ran hastily flipped to the end of the diary, only to find it ended abruptly after that ominous sentence. Only a few drops of blood had stained the page. Had Lin Fangmei died?

While Lin Ran searched the villa for clues, Guo Ting anxiously made her way to Lin Ran’s workplace but found no sign of him. With no other option, she sought out Fan Beixiao. Arriving at the intelligence office, she saw Fan Beixiao looking grim and hurried.

“Beixiao! Where’s Lin Ran?” Guo Ting called out as soon as she saw him.

“I don’t know. I was just about to look for him!” Fan Beixiao replied, puzzled. Was Lin Ran not here?

“What happened? Did you finish analyzing the video?” Guo Ting pressed.

“I did. I found something in the footage—a clue about that woman’s shadow. What about you?” Fan Beixiao’s face was grave.

“The Buddha statue… it’s an omen of death! Lin Ran is in danger!” Guo Ting’s voice trembled, close to tears. In her hand, she clutched a sheet of paper filled with information about the sinister statue.

“What should we do? Lin Ran is in danger and we can’t find him!” As she spoke, tears spilled down her cheeks; she was truly worried for Lin Ran.

“I know where he went!” Fan Beixiao suddenly recalled that Lin Ran had borrowed the mini recorder and ultraviolet scanner before leaving—he must have gone somewhere important.

“I’ll call him!” Fan Beixiao, deeply anxious, quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Lin Ran’s number. No one noticed that his right hand, holding the phone, was trembling slightly.