Chapter 002: Criminal Suspect?

At the back door of Chaoyang Registry, a small wooden platform had been erected, barely large enough to hold the numerous white candles arrayed upon it. Crowding around the platform was a throng of people, among whom stood a figure garbed in the robes of a Taoist priest. Drawing nearer, I realized that this priest was, in fact, a woman. In one hand, she held a peachwood sword; in the other, a yellow talisman.

Head bowed, the Taoist priestess moved her hands in continuous, intricate gestures, her lips muttering incantations. The people encircling her stood in utter silence, as though fearful of disturbing her. Rumors had not lied—these must be the staff of Chaoyang Registry, and the priestess their summoned master.

At first, I thought this was the usual charade of a swindler in Taoist robes, but soon I sensed this woman was not so simple. Before her stood a portly man with a fleshy face; when she tapped his forehead, he let out a piercing scream. Many in the crowd shrieked along with him. The priestess then asked what he had seen.

Shaking with terror, the man replied that he had seen many people, all with blood streaming down their faces. As he spoke, every candle on the platform was suddenly snuffed out, though no wind had risen. The crowd panicked, some on the verge of fleeing, but the priestess urged them not to be afraid.

She began chanting anew, then pressed the talisman to the fat man’s face. Mere seconds passed before he collapsed to the ground, utterly motionless. After a series of mysterious movements, the priestess announced that the crisis haunting Chaoyang Registry had passed.

Contrary to their earlier fear, the crowd broke into applause. It was then that the priestess noticed me standing at a distance. Under my gaze, she approached, her priest’s hat set firmly atop her head, surveying me from head to toe. Without hesitation, she declared that I was haunted by a malignant spirit.

She was rather pretty, I feigned fright: “Is there a way to break this curse?”

She nodded. “There is—leave the port district and return to where you came from.”

I was taken aback. She had told me at once to leave the port. Having spent much time with Luo Feng, my local dialect was fluent; I was curious how she had so easily seen through me. Sensing something amiss, I glanced behind the priestess—her followers were slowly edging closer.

I continued to feign hesitation. “But I have important business in the port district.”

Before the priestess could reply, her supporters spoke up. Each urged me to heed their master and leave quickly, lest the evil spirit plague me further. They recounted how, ever since the Ghost Banquet case, Chaoyang Registry’s owner had heard a woman’s laughter every night, even seeing a blood-soaked woman drawing near.

They pointed to the man lying on the ground. He was, in fact, the owner of Chaoyang Registry, still unconscious, and none dared approach him. They went on to say that since the priestess had begun her rituals, the owner’s condition had improved considerably.

Their intentions were kind—they said so much merely to persuade me to listen to the priestess and leave the port. I ventured, “Does such a thing as ghosts truly exist?” I added, intentionally, that I’d never believed in spirits. Predictably, my skepticism angered the staff, for in their eyes, the priestess was their savior, possessed of miraculous powers.

Yet the priestess herself remained unruffled. She explained that the northeast and southwest directions of a building are known as the Five Ghosts sectors; if the main or back door faces these, it forms a Five Ghosts line or gate, inviting strange and sinister occurrences. The front door of Chaoyang Registry faces northeast, the back door faces northwest—hence, the owner’s troubles.

“So, you’re saying the evil spirits chose Chaoyang Registry for their banquet because of this?” I pressed.

The priestess nodded. At that moment, the owner on the ground finally stirred. He looked dazed, as though not part of any staged act with the priestess. Seeing him awake, the priestess turned and walked over; he handed her some money in front of everyone, which the priestess took without hesitation.

The owner, still shaken, asked if the problem was truly resolved. She nodded, saying that if he encountered ghosts again, he could call upon her. I could not help but smile wryly, but the owner was genuinely frightened. The priestess, ignoring him, slung her cloth bag over her shoulder, gathered her things, and departed.

As she passed me again, she uttered a single phrase that made me resolve to follow her: if she was not mistaken, I had been tainted by evil in recent days. At her words, I immediately thought of Old Nine, who had brought me the warning. I waited until the priestess was far ahead before tailing her.

The owner of Chaoyang Registry also seemed suspect; I decided to question him the following day.

The priestess walked briskly, and I shadowed her for a full half hour. She led me to a desolate place overgrown with weeds, where a dilapidated wooden hut stood in the distance. She entered the hut; I waited outside, and when she showed no sign of emerging, I crept closer.

Peering through a wooden window, I saw her inside, burning incense. Her back was to me; after lighting a pipe, she approached a table and bowed a few times. At last, she left the hut, and I hid as she walked away, unnoticed. Once she was gone, I entered the hut.

The air was thick with incense; the white candles still burned. On the table sat four ancestral tablets. When I saw the names inscribed upon them, I turned and rushed out in shock. They belonged to the four victims of the Ghost Banquet case.

Yet, no matter how long I searched, I could not find the priestess.

Returning to the hut, I found it shrouded in darkness—the candles had been extinguished. The ancestral tablets had vanished without a trace, and even the scent of incense was gone, as though what I had witnessed was nothing but an illusion.

This priestess was far too suspicious. In a case like this, the police should have listed her as a suspect. She had been conducting rituals at Chaoyang Registry for several days, but the port district police had taken no action. With no leads, I returned to the hotel, where I found Chen Fan already snoring.

My entrance woke him. He glanced at his watch and asked why I’d been gone so long.

I recounted everything I had witnessed at Chaoyang Registry, but Chen Fan had no interest. He said he couldn’t wait to leave the port and return to the capital. As soon as we received permission to depart, he would take me home and warned me not to cause trouble.

We soon fell into a hurried sleep.

At dawn, Luo Feng arrived with his men, their knocking rousing us both. Chen Fan, irritated, opened the door, but upon seeing who it was, his face drained of color. The capital police had long held their eye on Luo Feng; Chen Fan certainly knew his reputation.

Luo Feng had brought over a dozen men, all standing in the hallway with cigarettes dangling from their lips, blocking the narrow hotel corridor.

Luo Feng, boisterous as ever, dragged me outside. Chen Fan, at first, tried to stop him, but a single glare from Luo Feng reduced his protest to a perfunctory warning not to go far. Once outside, Luo Feng anxiously demanded to know what had transpired. I told him that the person I was searching for had left traces in the port.

Luo Feng was startled. “Is it him?”

I nodded. “The four people I sent to find him are all dead. The deaths themselves aren’t the issue, but the manner of their deaths is bizarre. I wonder if they’re connected to the one I’m after.” Luo Feng understood at once—this was a matter we had to investigate to the very end.

I then detailed the entirety of the Ghost Banquet case to Luo Feng. Like me, he did not believe in ghosts and was quite bold, but as he listened to the strange events and heard how Old Nine had come to warn me even in death, his face grew grave. When anxious, Luo Feng would tug at his chin, and now he seemed genuinely perplexed. He asked how he could assist.

With Luo Feng’s influence in the port, my investigation would proceed much more smoothly, but certain matters required police cooperation. I was not familiar with the local police, and could only rely on Chen Fan, who had come from the capital. So, we decided to deal with Chen Fan first.

Luo Feng clapped me on the shoulder, declaring that with my involvement, the case would surely be solved.

We returned to the room. Luo Feng’s men remained at the door, and Chen Fan was visibly unsettled. I had long since seen through his bluster—he put on a show, but when faced with real force, he yielded quickly. As soon as we entered, Luo Feng pointed at me and told Chen Fan that I and the other victims were his brothers, and he would not rest until the murderer was found.

He went so far as to threaten Chen Fan, saying that if the case remained unsolved, Chen Fan would not leave the port alive. Chen Fan, caught between pride and fear, finally put on a façade of righteousness: “I’m a police officer. Of course I will see this through.”

His performance left both Luo Feng and me contemptuous.

A few hours later, Chen Fan took Luo Feng and me to the district police station. Progress was slow. Though all were officers, the local police were suspicious of outsiders and quite reluctant to let Chen Fan get involved. Only after much persuasion did they allow us to review the investigative files.

Once I had the files in hand, I set to work—and soon discovered something was not right.