Chapter 045: The Road Segment

Luo Feng nodded at me, and I hurriedly crouched down, asking the little ghost what I was doing when she saw me. The little ghost knew these statues were suspicious, not merely a coincidence; she truly remembered this place. This further convinced me that the little ghost’s claim of often seeing me here as a child wasn't a mistake of memory.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard the little ghost tried, she couldn't recall more. Her memories of the Three Pines Temple were limited to these statues and a vague impression of me. What she remembered most clearly was the scene of Xuan Yi taming her in the wild. Since we couldn't get any answers, I stood up again. Suddenly, Chen Fan asked, “Han, could it be your biological brother?”

I shook my head. “I’m an only child.”

Chen Fan paced back and forth, then, with his back to me, asked, “Could it be your father? Does your father look like you?” As he finished and turned around, my hand was already gripping his throat.

I pressed Chen Fan against the wall, my hand tightening around his neck as he stared at me in terror. I told him coldly not to make reckless guesses. Terrified, he nodded immediately. Luo Feng patted my shoulder, and I let go.

Luo Feng quickly changed the subject, suggesting we search more thoroughly, especially the statues inside the Forbidden Gate. I nodded, and together we began a meticulous search of each room. Soon, we found several more statues.

All the statues were hollow, their interiors spacious enough for a person to hide inside. This confirmed my previous suspicion: inside the Forbidden Gate, a group of mysterious people hid themselves. When others entered, they concealed themselves within the statues. The old master’s ability to extinguish the fire so quickly was likely thanks to these people; otherwise, he could not have managed it alone.

It seemed a simple trick for hiding people, but it was actually quite clever. The statues appeared perfectly ordinary, their outer shells thick, and tapping them revealed nothing of their hollow nature. Each statue was heavy, making it unlikely anyone would think to move them.

We turned the Forbidden Gate area upside down. At first, we were cautious, unsure if anyone was still hiding there, but eventually we were certain—apart from us, the place was empty. On reflection, with the old master dead and Xuan Yi gone, only ordinary monks remained in Three Pines Temple. The secrets of the Forbidden Gate and its hidden people would no longer be kept there.

I checked my watch; dawn was near. We exited Three Pines Temple and waited outside. Soon, the gates opened and worshippers began to arrive, though their numbers were far fewer than before. The reason was clear: the old master was dead; Xuan Yi had left.

Once the gates opened, we entered openly.

We found a monk and, after Chen Fan showed his credentials, the monk reluctantly answered our questions. He told us that after Xuan Yi left, he had not contacted Three Pines Temple; no one knew where he had gone or when he would return.

Yet the monks believed Xuan Yi would surely come back. His departure was by the old master’s will, and the old master had told everyone that Xuan Yi was sent out to carry out his orders.

“What about the secular disciples of Three Pines Temple?” I asked.

The monk glanced at me and said that for the past two years, the temple had stopped accepting secular disciples. I was surprised—something Luo Feng hadn’t uncovered before. According to the monk, after Yun Qing started the fire inside the Forbidden Gate, Three Pines Temple suspended all new secular disciples, and the suspension remained to this day.

The monk spoke with a hint of envy. He said sometimes he wished he were just a secular disciple himself. Secular disciples only needed to stay on the mountain for two years to receive the old master and the immortals’ protection, guaranteeing smooth fortune thereafter. I asked if the secular disciples exhibited any unusual behavior while on the mountain.

The monk shook his head, saying secular disciples’ daily lives were much like the monks’: meditation and recitation of scriptures. The only difference was that every night at around one o’clock, the old master would gather them to lecture. Regardless of wind or rain, these lectures lasted more than an hour, and never missed a day.

Moreover, every night, the old master would have several monks guard the lecture hall to prevent eavesdroppers. Some new monks initially thought the old master was being overly secretive, but after witnessing the secular disciples’ success after leaving the mountain, they were awed and praised the old master’s supernatural abilities.

Luo Feng snorted. “Lecturing in such secrecy—where’s the lecture hall? Take us there.”

The monk hesitated, but after Luo Feng intimidated him, he quickly led us to the place. The lecture hall was a small chamber behind the main hall, intricately arranged so that, with guards outside, no one could sneak in without being seen.

This ensured the old master’s teachings would not be overheard. Luo Feng sent the monk away, and as soon as he left, Luo Feng asked if I sensed anything. I nodded and began searching. Chen Fan’s nerves were taut; he kept asking what we sensed.

Chen Fan said he noticed nothing except the place felt eerie, unsettling. Indeed, the lighting was poor, there were no windows, and though the hall seemed spacious, its arrangement made our words echo not at all.

It was as if our words vanished the instant they left our lips.

“This hall is positioned to connect with the Forbidden Gate’s courtyard,” Luo Feng explained to the baffled Chen Fan.

Chen Fan finally understood. We searched the hall for a long time and, sure enough, discovered a very hidden passage. The little ghost found it—she was particularly sensitive to passages. It was behind a cabinet; we moved the cabinet and saw a passage about a meter high, half a meter wide.

Without hesitation, I crouched and entered. The passage wasn’t long; after crawling for a while, I reached the end. The other side was blocked by something wooden. I pushed hard but couldn’t move it—it was heavy. I guessed it was another cabinet.

It was difficult to push from inside the passage, but outside, moving the cabinet would be easy.

I crawled back, emerged, and confirmed with the others. Chen Fan checked the time—the three-day deadline, and another day had passed. Having uncovered the issues at Three Pines Temple, we decided not to linger and descended the mountain. By the time we left, the temple was bustling.

I held the little ghost’s hand, watching every monk’s expression.

I tried to see if anyone recognized the little ghost, but until we reached the foot of the mountain, I found nothing.

Once we were in the car, Luo Feng spoke again. He said the old master lectured secular disciples in that hall, which connected to the Forbidden Gate’s courtyard, and since the Forbidden Gate was so mysterious, he suspected the disciples’ success was orchestrated by a hidden group—the same people who concealed themselves in the Forbidden Gate courtyard.

Unfortunately, those people had now vanished without a trace.

When we returned near the police station, Luo Feng’s subordinates still hadn’t found anything. Chen Fan asked me what we should do next; only two days remained to crack the case. According to my plan, if Luo Feng’s men could collect both lists, there would be a name in common—the suspect.

But even if we found the suspect, we had no evidence. The investigation had clarified some matters, but several mysteries remained. The greatest puzzle was the fresh food found in the victim’s stomach and the inexplicable transformation of money into funeral paper.

I decided to visit Chaoyang Ji once more.

The owner was already impatient when we arrived. Because of the media reports in the port district, he believed Yun Qing had killed someone and extorted money from them. Luo Feng scoffed, saying whether in the port or on the mainland, the public was equally foolish and easily swayed by public opinion.

We asked the owner and his staff in detail about the three days of meal deliveries. All deliveries were made in the daytime, with the staff and owner riding bicycles. Linking this to the sudden appearance of funeral paper in Fei Ji’s pocket, I asked if they also put money in their pockets.

The owner said no; they used waist pouches. He even showed us his pouch—a zippered bag where money was kept inside.

At my repeated insistence, the delivery staff finally agreed to retrace the route with us. We hoped that by simulating the scenario, the staff might recall something previously overlooked.

But soon, I noticed a problem.

At first, right outside Chaoyang Ji, there were very few people; at the final stretch near the crime scene’s residential area, there were also few people.

However, between Chaoyang Ji and the residential area lay a street bustling with people.

Luo Feng and the staff explained this was a slum area, and the only lively place was that street.

“The issue is in this stretch,” I said, raising my head to observe. Quickly, I urged Chen Fan, “Go back to the police station immediately!”