Chapter 104: The Yin-Yang Pillow

After finishing the investigation at Jinbaoshan, I assigned Wang Dali a task: wait here until Jinbaoshan finishes work, then follow him home to retrieve the contract.

Wang Dali frowned, "It's only two o'clock now. You want me to wait here for four hours?"

I chuckled, "You can do something while waiting. There's a pretty decent internet café right across the street."

His eyes lit up. "Alright! I'll wait here. Xiao Tao, can I get reimbursed for the internet fee?"

Huang Xiaotao replied sternly, "Don't get too carried away. The case funds come from taxpayers' money, got it?"

"Got it! Got it!"

After leaving Wang Dali behind, Huang Xiaotao asked where we were headed next. I said my wooden pillow should be ready, so we were going to pick it up and do the autopsy.

On the way, I kept thinking aloud, "Don't you feel this case is too straightforward? No matter how clever the killer's method, the motive is so obvious. Shouldn't just checking the buyer and seller solve it?"

Huang Xiaotao smiled, "You don't like it when things are simple, huh?"

...

"No, I feel there's more to it!"

Until now, I still hadn't figured out exactly how those two trial tenants of the haunted houses died. Anyone capable of such a killing method wouldn't think so simply, that's for sure.

Back at the police station, my wooden pillow was ready. It was just a square block of wood with a recessed groove in the middle for the head. Around it were several holes that connected to the groove. This pillow was the legendary 'Yin-Yang Pillow' recorded in the Chronicles of the Severed Prison.

Huang Xiaotao asked, "This pillow looks weird and uncomfortable. What's it for?"

"You'll see soon enough," I said with a mysterious smile.

We went to the morgue. I placed the Yin-Yang Pillow under the corpse's head and pressed my ear against it. Huang Xiaotao gently tapped the side while I blocked the holes one by one with my fingers—just like covering holes on a flute.

The holes varied in size and length. Each blocked hole created a different echo inside the skull, and by listening to these echoes, one could determine injuries inside the head.

The human brain is an incredibly delicate organ, with countless capillaries under the scalp. Without dissection, forensic experts must rely on such auxiliary methods to detect skull injuries.

This was an ingenious invention by one of the Song family ancestors.

Of course, it was my first time using it and took quite some effort to master the technique. After listening, I said, "The victim was neither burned alive nor burned after death."

"Why?" Huang Xiaotao asked.

I explained that if a person is exposed to extreme heat, the water in their brain would boil, causing the brain to swell and deform. But these two victims' brains were perfectly intact.

Huang Xiaotao stared at the charred bodies, "Then how did those burn marks happen?"

"Not sure. We'll have to wait for Xiao Zhou's lab results..." I said, holding the Yin-Yang Pillow.

After the autopsy, as usual, we burned some ritual paper for the deceased and recited a passage from the Sutra of Rebirth.

We went to the lab to find Xiao Zhou. He was worried and said, "There is indeed some acidic substance on the victim's skin, but I can't identify what it is. Song Yang, any bright ideas?"

"Sorry, chemistry isn't my strong suit," I replied.

Huang Xiaotao looked surprised, "You admit that so openly?"

"Every profession has its limits. Even a coroner isn't omnipotent," I told Xiao Zhou. "Pause the tests for now. I'll let you know once I have a lead."

Though I said that, Xiao Zhou kept working. Huang Xiaotao said he's a perfectionist who won't stop until he gets results. Well, let him be.

Huang Xiaotao got a call, then said, "Wang Yuanchao is back."

"Let's go meet him," I said.

Wang Yuanchao had dug up old homicide records for the house, but they didn't fully match the version Old Third had.

Over ten years ago, a family of three lived in the mansion. After a paternity test dispute, the husband pushed the child down the stairs in a fit of rage, killing him. The wife stabbed the husband to death in retaliation, then held the child's body and cried nonstop. She later went insane and was institutionalized.

I was surprised, "She's still alive?"

"Died two years ago," Wang Yuanchao said.

"So the mansion never caught fire?" I asked, puzzled.

"Nope. I checked with the city fire department. No fire alarms in that area for the past twenty years."

I thought it over. Wang Yuanchao's info came from inside the police, so it was reliable. Old Third's version came from online rumors, which were heavily exaggerated.

Apparently, the decade-old murder was twisted and distorted until it turned into the story we know now. Some even claimed to see a female ghost in the house. That's impossible—the woman hadn't died at the time. As for the midnight wall fires, that's nonsense because no fire ever happened.

Clearly, the deaths of the two trial tenants were carefully staged.

I said, "Why don't we pay the place a visit?"

Huang Xiaotao asked, "Tonight?"

"Yeah, the three of us, plus Wang Dali. We'll become trial tenants ourselves. What do you say?"

"But what if something happens?" Huang Xiaotao was still wary of ghost stories.

"If we don't take this risk, we'll never know how the killer works." My eyes flashed with determination.

She thought a moment, then smiled, "Alright! I'll brave it with you."

Since we planned to visit the haunted house at night, I spent the rest of the day preparing supplies: some fine flour, small bells, and rope. Then I went to a traditional medicine shop for herbs and pill-making tools.

I found an empty meeting room to work. Huang Xiaotao offered help, but I said no, so she did something else.

I crushed and filtered the herbs, then mixed them with flour and honey to form tiny pills. It was exhausting work, but these pills would later save our lives.

Around six o'clock, Wang Dali came back with a copy of the contract and ID copies of both buyer and seller. Huang Xiaotao asked the tech team to run a check on Ren Facai. Minutes later, an officer reported, "Team leader, Ren Facai has a criminal record!"

We took a look. Ren Facai had quite a resume: smuggling, money laundering, running gambling dens—you name it. Huang Xiaotao smiled, "Song Yang, no need to bother with the haunted house anymore. The killer's right in front of us."

I shook my head, "Not necessarily."

The tech team started a search on the computer while I watched. The real-name system is so convenient now — every use of an ID is logged clearly. It's much harder to be a fugitive nowadays.

The results showed Ren Facai was currently staying at a hotel in Nanjiang City. Huang Xiaotao said, "Let's go find him."

She picked a team, taking me, Wang Dali, and Wang Yuanchao with her. At the hotel, we inquired at the front desk and were led by a staff member to Ren Facai's room.

At the door, everyone was on alert. I heard a woman's laughter inside. The staff knocked, "Sir, room service."

"Go away! Don't you see the 'Do Not Disturb' sign?" an angry voice shouted.

The staff looked troubled. Huang Xiaotao gave a subtle nod, and the staff said, "Sir, we just received a package for you. The courier says it needs your signature."

"Oh, wait a moment."

After a long pause, the door cracked open slightly, revealing a middle-aged, overweight man's half face. Everyone moved aside so only the staff was visible.

The man asked, "Where's the package?"

"It's too big; you need to come down and get it yourself," the staff replied.

The man's gaze dropped to the floor. My heart skipped — the shadow of a policeman was visible in the hallway light. The man shouted, "Is someone standing beside you? Damn it, you're trying to trick me!"

The door slammed shut. Then we heard a heavy thud.

Huang Xiaotao gasped, "No! He jumped!"