Chapter 064: The Backlash of the Guman Thong?

Just as Xiaomei’s lips were about to touch mine, I pressed her shoulders, smiling faintly as I pushed her away. I shook my head at her. “There’s nothing that can blind my eyes.”

Xiaomei took no offense and stepped back, laughing. “You know I’m not talking about women.”

“Don’t speak in riddles with me. Whether you tell me or not makes no difference—I’ll find out myself.” I turned away, unwilling to waste more time. She called after me, but I didn’t slow my step. Clearly, Xiaomei still had something left unsaid. Suddenly, she shouted, “Don’t you want to know whether the old priest is really dead?”

At last, I stopped. Xiaomei approached, about to speak, but I cut her off. I told her to say everything she had at once, not to use little tricks to make me stay. The old priest was dead—of that I was absolutely certain. I would bet my own life, buried among the pile of Kuman Thong dolls. Whoever suddenly jumped out and injured Luo Feng was definitely not the old priest.

Earlier, when Luo Feng was wounded, my mind was too anxious to think clearly, but now, looking back, things weren’t so mysterious. It was dark, the attack was sudden, and neither Luo Feng nor the little ghost could have seen the attacker’s face. Luo Feng had only ever seen the old priest in photographs, never in person, since he followed me to the Three Pines Temple after the priest had died.

Their certainty that it was the priest surely came from the attacker’s attire, which resembled the old man’s. In other words, someone intentionally disguised themselves as him. What puzzled me was the motive behind such a deception.

Xiaomei finally stopped beating around the bush. She told me she only wanted to keep me from being deceived.

Another cryptic remark. I scoffed and asked her who she was. Xiaomei lowered her head, silent for a long time, until I asked why she was here. That question she answered: she was searching for Xuan Yi—she needed to confirm something with him in person.

This murder couldn’t have been Xiaomei’s doing. Judging by the corpse’s time of death, it had been more than a week, while Xiaomei had appeared in the port district within that week. She left about three days before me. The prime suspect was Xuan Yi. I ignored Xiaomei, a strange confidence swelling within me—she would not hide anymore.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t suddenly be appearing before me so frequently. Xiaomei continued to call after me, and I was reminded once again of what Xuan Yi had told me: that our lives would be forever intertwined.

When I returned to the house, everyone was chattering, discussing something. Listening closely, I realized they were talking about the backlash of the Kuman Thong dolls. Everyone had heard something about them—some people claimed the priest helped Z raise Kuman Thong, and might have suffered their wrath.

Others said raising Kuman Thong was different from raising little ghosts—it was a compassionate thing. But someone’s words silenced the crowd: “They’re all dark, evil things. If it were you, would you want your soul trapped in a doll?”

Everyone’s gaze unconsciously shifted to the black bag containing several Kuman Thong dolls made from human bodies. Thinking about them again, everyone’s faces grew uneasy. I asked if anyone knew when the rumors of the house being haunted began.

Most here had followed Luo Feng from the port to the capital, but a few were locals. One told me the haunting rumors started about two years ago, a detail that immediately caught my attention, for it was two years ago that the actress Z came to the capital seeking the priest.

The rumors of Z raising Kuman Thong also began spreading around that time, coinciding with the start of the haunting tales. I wondered if the two events were inevitably connected. The man continued, saying that although the area was remote, country travelers often passed by. If night fell or it rained, they would take refuge in the abandoned house.

Two years ago, travelers began to be frightened out of their wits.

Nearby villagers said those travelers fled in panic, later telling others they heard women crying and laughing inside the house, and the voice sounded very much like a child. Immediately, I thought of the sound I’d just heard inside.

Everyone’s accounts varied. Some said they’d seen a drifting shadow, clearly an adult woman, but her voice was that of a child.

Even more terrifying, some claimed to have seen a female ghost holding a puppet. She had no face, long hair, moved with incredible speed—appearing and vanishing unpredictably. Many felt as if she stood right behind them, but when they turned, there was nothing.

At this point, several people involuntarily looked over their shoulders.

I was about to speak when someone pointed to the house’s front door, terrified, claiming there was someone there. I looked, and indeed, several figures emerged from the thick fog. Everyone stood up. I squinted as the figures drew closer. When they came into view, everyone relaxed.

Chen Fan had arrived, bringing a few people who were likely police officers, though not in uniform.

With outsiders present, Chen Fan put on a show, walking up to me and asking about the report he’d received. I pointed towards the pile of Kuman Thong dolls, telling him to see for himself. Chen Fan and the officers went over. I instructed Luo Feng’s men to leave while they had the chance.

They all ran out. I led the little ghost after Chen Fan. When he saw the corpse, his facial muscles twisted. The other officers were young, and seemed never to have encountered such a horrific body; someone nearly vomited. Chen Fan held back, making a call to notify their squad.

By the time the police arrived, dawn had broken.

In daylight, the haunted house was less sinister than at night. The forensic doctor conducted a preliminary on-site examination of the body, while detectives collected evidence. As the one who reported the incident, I naturally underwent police questioning.

Chen Fan held considerable authority in his squad; the officers all listened to him.

For once, Chen Fan acted wisely. When someone asked who I was, he quietly told them I was his special operative—in plain terms, a police informant who provided clues regularly or irregularly. Luo Feng’s men’s departure was also smoothly explained by Chen Fan.

The on-site interview finished, and Chen Fan pulled me aside, clearly anxious. He asked how I’d found the corpse.

I gave a cold smile. “Didn’t you ask me to investigate the missing priest? I’ve found him for you.”

Chen Fan glanced at the corpse being examined by the forensic doctor and sighed. “It’s almost certainly the priest. The missing persons case is solved, but now we have a murder on our hands. I’ll see if I can transfer the case to the main squad.”

I shook my head immediately. “This case must be handled by your team.”

Chen Fan was about to ask why, but my cold glare made him swallow his question. I sneered, “I can help you get promoted, or ruin your career as a cop. Just follow my lead. Solve this case, and you’ll earn another major merit.”

Chen Fan looked troubled. He said he hadn’t expected another big case to happen. Staring at me, he remarked, whether intentionally or not, “Han, why does it always feel like wherever you go, a major case follows?”

In truth, I too sensed that this case was somehow connected to me.

I had come looking for Xuan Yi, only to discover a corpse here.

I patted Chen Fan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. The case will be solved. Start by issuing a warrant for Xuan Yi—he’s the prime suspect.”