"I thank you on behalf of Wang Zhongli," Yang Xiao stood up, bowed to the woman, and Monk Wukong also chanted a Buddhist mantra.
"If... if you can get in touch with Wang Zhongli, I hope you can also tell him I’m sorry, it was our silence that hard him." After saying that, the woman didn’t linger, she stood up, wrapped her scarf around her face, and hurriedly left.
Yang Xiao and his companion left the coffee shop and returned to the hotel. They hadn’t waited long in their room before Lian Jinsun and Che Xuexiang arrived.
Taking off her coat and throwing it over a chair, Lian Jinsun unscrewed the lid of a bottle of mineral water and guzzled a few mouthfuls before speaking quickly, "We found the rental house where Wang Zhongli last lived—a three-story self-built building at the urban-rural fringe. He lived in a small single room on the third floor. According to the ti we reconstructed, after dropping out of school, he didn’t go back ho but found a job at a construction site near the urban-rural fringe, sieving sand."
"The rental has changed hands several tis, and anything Wang Zhongli left behind is long gone, but the landlord is still around and rembers a bit about Wang Zhongli. He was a reticent man, not very talkative, appeared refined and read, didn’t drink or gamble, a stark contrast to the other tenants who also worked at the construction site."
"The landlord reported that a few days before Wang Zhongli’s disappearance, soone ca to the construction site asking about him, a few young people who said they were Wang Zhongli’s classmates."
Hearing this, Yang Xiao understood—the young people were certainly Fei Yong and his group. These guys, who held a grudge for being expelled from school, ca to retaliate.
Yang Xiao then shared his own findings in full, surprising Wen Chongxian, who exclaid, "Fei Rou is Sha ihui, she... she’s not dead?!"
Yang Xiao glanced at him and said coldly, "You could say that a bit louder, let Sha ihui know that we’ve seen through her disguise, and see how she’ll deal with you."
Upon hearing this, the already unwelco Wen Chongxian imdiately fell silent, settling into a corner on a small couch, and stopped speaking out of turn.
Lian Jinsun had brought a letter to the hotel for comparison with the textbook Yang Xiao had; after a mont, she slowly nodded, "It’s true, the handwriting is from the sa person."
Fei Rou was Sha ihui, one of the three bullies from back then, and the Ghost, who had been killing people, actually intended to kill her.
Now Yang Xiao suspected that Wang Zhongli’s death might not have been an accident and looked up to ask, "Whose hands is Wang Zhongli’s newspaper in?"
"It’s with ," Che Xuexiang pulled out a newspaper from her pocket.
Spreading out the newspaper, the headline about the deadly truck was strikingly conspicuous. With the newfound clue in hand, Yang Xiao carefully examined the only blurry photo on the newspaper. It didn’t take long before he spotted the problem.
In the photo was a muddy dirt road surrounded by waist-high weeds, a contorted figure lying in the mud, and the background was late at night. How Fei Yong, Sha ihui, and the others found such a secluded place and knew that an accident had happened there, with soone getting hit by a car, bringing a cara to take photos, was puzzling.
Yang Xiao could only think of one answer: when the accident occurred, these three people were nearby, and they might have even witnessed Wang Zhongli getting hit by the car.
The scene might have unfolded like this: Wang Zhongli, having been located at his place, fled in panic, and Fei Yong’s group chased him relentlessly. In the process of fleeing across the dirt road, Wang Zhongli was unfortunately killed by a passing truck.
Yang Xiao believed the truck driver was innocent because even if he fled the scene after the accident, Wang Zhongli hadn’t troubled him.
The real culprits were only three people: Sha ihui, Fei Yong, Hu Yuan.
"No wonder she calls every night to confirm whether we’re in our rooms, turns out we’re all her scapegoats." Lian Jinsun also gradually pieced everything together, and the case was finally clear," It seems anyone staying in these three cursed rooms at night will be attacked by the Ghost, who mistook the new occupants for the only one who escaped, Sha ihui."
"The ghost is not from outside, it’s been in these three cursed places all along, never leaving," Lian Jinsun added.
"Another point, if all three rooms are occupied at night and soone flees in the middle of it, leaving a room empty, the ghost will go after the person who escaped. A Qiang is a case in point," Che Xuexiang recalled.
"Thump."
"Thump."
"Thump."
A swift and forceful set of footsteps ca down the hallway, more than one person approaching. Then, the footsteps stopped at the door, the sound of a key being inserted into the lock sounded.
After the door opened, three muscular n wearing sunglasses blocked the entrance, the one in the lead they had seen before—it was the Mongolian man who had punished Wen Chongxian previously.
"Who stayed at Qichi Courtyard No.3 last night?" the Mongolian man asked in a sowhat broken Mandarin.
"It was ," Yang Xiao replied.
"You didn’t check in with our boss, made him worry about you all night," the man stepped forward, his oppressive presence astonishing, "What did I tell you before? If you break the agreent, you will suffer a severe punishnt!"
The very next second, in the terrified gaze of everyone, the man pulled out a dagger from his waist. The dagger had a matte finish and was designed with blood grooves—clearly a weapon made for killing. The man slamd the dagger into the table with a "bang," "Chop off one of your fingers as an apology, and don’t make do it, or... it won’t just be one!"
"My cell phone had a problem, it froze up, and it didn’t work again until daybreak," Yang Xiao explained calmly.
"I don’t care, that’s your problem!" the man grew more impatient, "Don’t think I don’t know what you all are—a bunch of criminals. Without our boss’s help, you’d have nothing but death if you stayed in this country!"
"Amitabha," Monk Wukong stood up, palms pressed together, "Please don’t trouble Master Chu; this is all my fault."
Without offering further explanation, Monk Wukong grabbed the dagger from the table, placed his left hand on it, and in front of everyone, sliced off one of his left pinky fingers.
Looking at the blood-drenched table, Wen Chongxian trembled with fear, while Yang Xiao noticed that Monk Wukong didn’t even furrow his brow.
Picking up the severed pinky, Monk Wukong extended his hand offering it to the lead man, who seed to be stricken by the monk’s resolve and montarily failed to react.
"If Master feels it is not enough, this monk is willing to cut off another finger to apologize. But please, do not bla the innocent," Monk Wukong said, placing a single palm in front of him and bowed to the man in sunglasses.
"We’ll let it go this ti. If anyone dares to leave the room without informing our boss again, there will be only one consequence," the man said fiercely, "Death!"
"Thank you for your rcy," Monk Wukong placed the small finger on the table, laid the dagger next to it, joined his hands together, closed his eyes, and bowed reverently.
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