The delivery boy, realizing his mistake, awkwardly apologized and quickly left with his clipboard after having me sign.
Looking at the birthday cake, I couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Lin, is it your birthday today?"
Both Lin Huairen and Li Sisi's faces fell, their expressions full of sorrow. In unison, they replied, "Today was supposed to be Lin Xia's birthday… but she's no longer with us."
"I'm so sorry!" I blurted, realizing I'd touched on such a painful subject.
As we left the Lin family's home, a thought struck me—June 14th was also Ning Manwan's birthday. Could it be that Lin Xia and Ning Manwan shared the same birthday?
"Lin Zhao, hurry and take me to see Lin Xia's body," I said, a new theory forming in my mind. I hoped, prayed even, that I was wrong.
I could accept the truth that the woman I admired was no longer entirely human. But I could not accept the idea that she might have done something so cruel and inhumane for her own gain.
Lin Zhao, annoyed by my urgency, grumbled, "A while ago, you looked like you didn't even want to be here, and now you're more eager than I am?"
I ignored him. When we arrived at the police station, we found the forensic doctor just finishing up his work at the lab bench. He greeted Lin Zhao cheerfully.
"Hey, Lin Zhao! What brings you here at this hour? If you're asking me to go drinking, my wife will kill me."
The forensic doctor, Qin Shan, was in his mid-thirties. He had joined the force around the same time as Lin Zhao, and the two were close friends.
"Get out of here! Do I look that irresponsible to you?" Lin Zhao shot back, rolling his eyes. "I'm investigating a case. What's the status of the autopsy on Lin Xia?"
At the mention of the case, Qin Shan's joking demeanor turned serious.
"I've been a forensic doctor for years, and this is one of the most brutal cases I've ever seen. Lin Xia's skin was flayed while she was still alive. And judging by the cuts, the blade used wasn't sharp—possibly old or damaged. It wasn't a modern scalpel but more like an ancient cold weapon."
Hearing this, the room fell silent, the weight of the revelation hanging heavy. To imagine the pain inflicted on Lin Xia, skinned alive with a dull blade—how much hatred would someone need to do such a thing?
After a long pause, I broke the silence with a question. "Was her throat slit, or was there any evidence her vocal cords were damaged or restricted in some way?"
Qin Shan shook his head. "Her vocal cords were completely intact, which is the strangest part. You'd expect someone being skinned alive to scream bloody murder. I even checked for signs of swelling or strain that might indicate intense shouting—there was nothing."
Cold weapon. Dull blade.
The description brought to mind the scene from the eerie village where Ning Manwan had been flayed by the ghost soldiers. Even as a revenant, she couldn't endure the pain. How, then, had Lin Xia remained completely silent? Could she have been under some sort of mental manipulation?
Lin Zhao noticed my contemplative expression. "Cunxi, have you figured something out?"
"I have a suspicion, but I need to confirm it. I need to visit my teacher. I'll call you once I know more."
Leaving the police station, I initially thought of taking a bus, but knowing how remote my teacher's home was, I opted for a taxi instead.
When I arrived, I found my teacher engrossed in a book with a traditional Chinese title I couldn't make out. Not wanting to interrupt, I waited until he looked up.
"Teacher, is there any progress on the matter with Ning Manwan?" I asked. My teacher had promised to help me investigate her situation, and no matter what she was going through, I was determined to help her.
He closed the book and looked at me. "No significant leads so far. Have you heard from her recently?"
I shook my head.
"So, what brings you here today?" he asked.
I explained Lin Xia's case in detail. As he listened, my teacher's brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't offer much comment. Instead, he warned me: "The amount of resentment Lin Xia carried when she died was immense. On the seventh day, she's certain to return as a vengeful spirit to seek revenge."
Hearing his indifferent tone, I voiced my deeper concern.
"Teacher, I've seen photos of Lin Xia's body. The condition matches what happened to Ning Manwan back in the village. Also, Lin Xia and Ning Manwan share the same birthday. Is it possible that when Ning Manwan was being punished by the ghost soldiers, Lin Xia was experiencing the same thing? Could Lin Xia's suffering have allowed Ning Manwan to escape her fate?"
"Oh?"
For the first time, my teacher looked intrigued, his gaze turning toward me with an odd expression—half amused, half something else.
"What is it? Is there something on my face?" I asked, instinctively touching my cheek.
"To think you could come up with such a theory," he said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You were so protective of her before. Doesn't it hurt to talk about your 'goddess' like this?"
I flushed at the reminder. Back when he first revealed Ning Manwan's true nature, I had been so emotional, so defensive. But now, things were different.
"My feelings for her are one thing. If she's causing harm, that's something else entirely."
"Relax. This wasn't her doing," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "The ghost soldiers have no room for negotiation. If she wanted to remain in the human world, enduring the pain of flaying was mandatory, and she couldn't have avoided it. Lin Xia's death is another matter entirely. You should focus on your own unresolved issues before involving yourself in yet another case. Don't you think you already have enough people after your head?"
His words stung with truth. I had narrowly escaped death several times now, all thanks to him.
In truth, I hadn't intended to get involved in this case either. It was Lin Zhao's insistence that drew me in.
But I was beginning to realize something troubling: my curiosity had grown stronger.
In the past, I wasn't the type to stick my nose into others' misfortunes. Now, when I saw someone harmed or wronged, I felt compelled to intervene. What had changed in me?
As I left my teacher's house, lost in thought, my phone suddenly rang. To my surprise, it was my grandfather calling. Since recovering from surgery, I'd told him I was busy with work, and he rarely called me anymore.
Could he need money? With my recent missed shifts, my paycheck was likely docked, and if he did, I wasn't sure I could help.
"Hello, Grandpa!"
"Cunxi, what are you up to?"
We exchanged pleasantries for a while, and just when I thought he'd called simply because he missed me, his tone shifted.
"Cunxi, I know you've grown up and made new friends, but you must always remember to stay grounded. Know your limits and understand what you're capable of. Don't let appearances deceive you. Otherwise, you may regret it one day, and when that happens, I won't be able to help you."