Chapter Four: The Mask

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“Ran, what do you think is the meaning of these yellow talismans on the door?” Lin Ran had just put down his camera before the tightly closed door, preparing to enter, when a voice suddenly sounded behind him.

The unexpected voice gave Lin Ran quite a start. Turning around, he saw that it was his roommate from police academy, Fan Beixiao. Lin Ran had never quite understood what his father had been thinking when he named him. If he couldn’t be a hero, at least he ought to be a villainous overlord, and now look—he’d ended up a policeman instead.

“Maybe the family is just superstitious,” Lin Ran replied, giving a vague answer.

“I don’t think so! Ran, do you suppose it has something to do with this villa? I’ve heard stories about this place being haunted!” Fan Beixiao whispered into Lin Ran’s ear, as if afraid anyone else might overhear.

“Get lost, comrade Fan Beixiao! You’re a member of the Communist Party now!” Lin Ran shot him a glare.

“All right, all right, look at you, getting all worked up! Didn’t you always say you didn’t believe in ghosts? Then why don’t you go in? What are you hesitating for?” Fan Beixiao looked at Lin Ran with open disdain, as if mocking his cowardice.

“Don’t try to provoke me! I know exactly what you’re up to!” Lin Ran rolled his eyes and shoved the camera into Fan Beixiao’s arms.

He stepped up to the door and gave it a push, but it wouldn’t budge. Twisting the handle, he quickly realized it was locked.

“Did you find the key when collecting evidence?” Lin Ran turned to ask Fan Beixiao.

“No,” Fan Beixiao shook his head.

Lin Ran frowned. As he turned away, something suddenly occurred to him. He began to search the ground. Fan Beixiao, watching Lin Ran’s strange behavior, guessed he was probably looking for the key and didn’t pay much attention, choosing instead to wander about snapping photos.

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After searching for quite a while without success, Lin Ran wasn’t actually looking for the key to this room. He was searching for a yellow talisman like those on the other two doors, as he’d noticed this door didn’t have one, which struck him as odd.

“Ran, Ran, look here!” Fan Beixiao suddenly aimed the camera at Lin Ran as he searched.

“What are you doing? Don’t take random photos! If you’ve got time, collect some more evidence!” Lin Ran snapped, annoyed that Fan Beixiao still had the energy to fool around after such a serious case.

“I am collecting evidence!” Fan Beixiao retorted.

Lin Ran wasn’t in the mood to argue and turned away, continuing his search. Finding nothing, he decided to force the door open and see what was inside.

Just as he was about to ram the door with his shoulder, he spotted something shiny beneath it—something that looked like a key. Delighted, he quickly fished it out from the gap, inserted it into the lock, and to his surprise, the door opened.

He pushed the door open, and a thick scent of incense drifted out. The room inside was pitch black. Could this be a shrine for the deceased’s family? Lin Ran wondered. He felt along the wall for a switch and turned on the light.

Looking around, he realized it could indeed be a shrine: several yellow banners hung from the ceiling, covered in dense runes and symbols. Yellow talismans were pasted around the walls, and the floor was littered with more talisman papers and a wooden sword.

At the back was a large altar, flanked by two thick white candles, with a bowl-shaped incense burner overflowing with ash in the center. But what puzzled Lin Ran was that there were no ancestral portraits or urns on the wall.

“Ran, why are there so many talismans in here?” Fan Beixiao entered, camera in hand, looking around in confusion.

“I’m not sure. The arrangement is strange,” Lin Ran replied, shaking his head. Burning incense was for honoring the dead, but what purpose did the talismans serve? Were they to keep something from leaving?

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Lin Ran walked to the altar and saw that apart from the two candles and the incense burner, there was nothing else—not even fruit as offerings. He frowned at the odd arrangement. After a while, still unable to make sense of it, he decided to move the altar to see if anything was hidden beneath. In truth, it was less a table than a sealed wooden chest.

As Lin Ran shifted the altar, a hollow thud rang out where it struck the wall. The wall was hollow. Tapping on it, he realized that the space above the altar—where a portrait should have been—was about half a meter wide and just as tall, and empty behind it.

“There’s something inside! Beixiao, go find me a hammer!” Lin Ran called out.

“A hammer? What for—are you going to break the wall?” Fan Beixiao asked, bewildered.

“Why ask so many questions? Just go!” Lin Ran said impatiently.

“Fine, you’re so bossy! Always sending me instead of looking yourself. Lazybones,” Fan Beixiao grumbled as he headed out.

Lin Ran ignored him, tapping around the room’s walls but finding no other hollow spots. Before long, Fan Beixiao returned, somehow having found a military entrenching tool.