A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

Chapter 115 The Story of Astrology (Part 1) (Combined Story Chapter)

Monday, April 22nd.

The Age of Deduction magazine.

Song Zhiping sat at his desk with a stack of manuscripts spread out in front of him. This was the first batch he needed to process today. He poured the manuscripts out of the brown paper bag and sorted them by postmark date. The earliest one had arrived a week ago.

The first letter was handwritten, the handwriting so messy it looked like a doctor's prescription. The title was "The Villa Ghost," and he glanced at the beginning: "Late at night, in the pouring rain, a scream came from an isolated villa—" Song Zhiping frowned.

He'd seen this kind of opening at least three hundred times: torrential rain, villa, screams—the three elements were all there. He could guess the rest of the plot with his toes: someone died, everyone became suspicious, and the killer was the least likely to be the murderer. He quickly flipped through two pages, and sure enough, a locked room, a butler, and an illegitimate child—all the elements were there. He picked up the rejection stamp and stamped a red "Reject" sign in the upper right corner.

The second letter was neatly formatted, but the title, "Who Killed Her," made him frown even more. He read three paragraphs and found that the author was imitating the style of the narrative and the character settings, but the imitation was clumsy.

He read the third, fourth, and fifth letters faster and faster, without any change in expression. Having been an editor-in-chief for so many years, his rejection rate has consistently remained above 90%. It's not that he's harsh; it's just that good mystery novels are really too rare.

Song Zhiping picked up his teacup and took a sip. The tea had gone cold, but he didn't pay attention.

He picked up the sixth manuscript. It was a large envelope, thicker than the others. The sender's address was a certain community in Shanghai, and the name was "Lin Shubai". He was stunned for a moment—he had seen this name before. It was the sixteen-year-old writer who wrote "Charlotte's Web" and "The Little Prince", and also published "A Young China" in "People's Literature".

He only glanced at the news headline and didn't delve into it, because those things had nothing to do with his work.

I never expected this person to submit a mystery novel.

He used a paper cutter to cut open the seal, revealing a thick stack of manuscripts, clipped together with paperclips. Each page was neatly written on graph paper, and the title page contained only one line—"The Astrological Murder Magic".

Song Zhiping placed the manuscript on the table, opened to the first page, and began to read.

In 1976, in Shanghai, Ishioka arrived at his friend Wang Yu's residence as usual. Wang Yu was an astrologer by profession, known for his eccentric behavior and unconventional thinking, and was also a highly talented amateur detective. The two chatted idly, and the conversation inadvertently drifted to one of the most bizarre and widely circulated unsolved cases in Shanghai's history—the Mei Ping family's astrological serial murders that occurred forty years prior.

When Song Zhiping read this passage, he was slightly moved. This opening did not rush into the case, but first set up a "narrative" framework—a person in 1976 reviewing a case from 1936. This "dual time" structure is not common in detective novels. It naturally creates a sense of distance, making the reader feel as if they are reading history and also reading a contemporary detective story.

Wang Yu and Shi Gang, one a strange astrologer detective and the other a narrator from an ordinary person's perspective, are a classic pairing in Japanese mystery fiction, but few original Chinese mystery fiction works use them so naturally.

This case is almost a household name in Shanghai. For forty years, all sorts of strange tales and rumors have emerged, with claims of mystical curses constantly circulating. Countless police officers, private detectives, and mystery enthusiasts have tried to solve the mystery, but all have ultimately failed.

Song Zhiping nodded inwardly. The premise of a mystery that had remained unsolved for forty years was inherently oppressive.

Just as the two were sorting out the details of the old case, an anonymous letter suddenly arrived. The handwriting was old and messy, and the whole letter was filled with endless regret and despair. The writer claimed to be a survivor of the tragedy, who had lived for forty years with the secret, and now that his time was up, he could no longer bear the torment of his sins.

The letter, written in illegible handwriting, was filled with repression and regret. The writer claimed to be a witness to the case from years ago, tormented by the sins for forty years, and now, in his old age, no longer able to keep the secret. The letter subtly pointed out that the widely circulated legend of "Asod" was all an illusion, and that the truth hidden deep within the case was overlooked by everyone.

At the same time, Wang Yu also obtained another key piece of evidence—the private diary of Li Zhuwen, the old criminal police officer in charge of the case during the Republic of China era. This private diary, which had been sealed for forty years, was discovered by his daughter when she was sorting through his belongings and was eventually handed over to Wang Yu, who was good at solving cold cases.

Song Zhiping thought the design was brilliant, with two "retrospective" perspectives superimposed—the anonymous letter is a confession from a witness, and the diary is a record from an investigator. One comes from the emotional level, and the other from the factual level. The author gives the detective both clues at the same time, allowing the reader to piece together the puzzle with the detective.

And the story's pace began to quicken; the preceding parts were setup, framework, and atmosphere building, and now, the mystery was about to truly unfold. He subconsciously slowed his reading speed, afraid that reading too fast would cause him to miss something.

Wang Yu immediately decided to thoroughly investigate this timeless unsolved case in Shanghai, tear through the fog of metaphysics, find the real culprit, and restore the full truth of the bloody tragedy of 1936.

To unravel the mystery, the two meticulously studied the police files, news reports, statements from those involved, interview records, and the "Book of Asod," which was considered the core of the case after the incident. A dark and terrifying story from 1936 slowly unfolded before their eyes.

The tragedy of the story begins at the Mei family mansion on the outskirts of Shanghai. The owner of the mansion is named Mei Pingzhi, who is fifty-three years old at the time. He is a well-known Western painter. In his middle age, Mei Pingzhi became increasingly withdrawn and indifferent, disliking social interaction, becoming estranged from his family, and spending his days alone behind closed doors.

He became completely obsessed with Western astrology, alchemy, and various mystical arts, to the point of madness. He firmly believed that the stars governed the human body and destiny, and spent his days deducing astrological charts, living in a crazy world of his own making.

Mei Pingzhi's two marriages and complex family relationships laid the groundwork for the subsequent massacre of his entire family.

His first wife was named Duohui, a gentle and virtuous woman. After their marriage, they had a daughter named Shizi. Later, Mei Pingzhi fell in love with someone else and cruelly abandoned the mother and daughter. Duohui was left destitute and struggled to make ends meet by running a small grocery store on the streets of Shanghai. She lived a life of poverty, and her only solace was her daughter, Shizi. The mother and daughter were completely abandoned by Mei Pingzhi and marginalized in the Mei family, suffering endless cold looks and grievances.

Mei Pingzhi's second wife was named Changzi. She was strong-willed and stubborn. Changzi brought her three daughters from her previous marriage with her when she remarried into the Mei family. After the marriage, she gave birth to three more daughters for Mei Pingzhi.

Thus, the Mei family's old house has been home to six teenage girls for many years. In addition, Mei Pingzhi had an eldest daughter, Yizhi, who married after reaching adulthood and lives alone in an apartment in downtown Shanghai, rarely returning to the old house.

To outsiders, the Mei family was prosperous and lived a stable life. Neighbors had never heard of any fierce conflicts or deep-seated hatred within the family. No one could have foreseen that a bloody revenge against the entire family was quietly brewing.

Mei Pingzhi's madness stemmed from his extreme and obsessive astrological delusions. He firmly believed that there were no perfect people in the world, and that the twelve constellations corresponded to twelve vital points on the human body. He believed that if he could gather six girls corresponding to different constellations, extract their body parts corresponding to their respective constellations, and assemble them according to astrological time, direction, and the rules of the five elements, he could forge an ultimate female body with unparalleled beauty, immortality, and perfect divinity—Asod.

Song Zhiping tapped his fingers lightly on the table. Six constellations, six daughters, and an eccentric painter—this premise itself carried an unsettling atmosphere.

To fulfill his wild fantasies, Mei Pingzhi personally wrote a thick, private notebook, "The Book of Asod." The book details the constellations corresponding to the six girls, the body parts that need to be cut, the corresponding metal properties, and the burial locations of the bodies in six designated mines around Shanghai and throughout the country.

On the morning of February 25, 1936, a heavy snow fell in Shanghai overnight. As was customary, the servants of the Mei family went to the backyard studio to wake Mei Pingzhi. Mei Pingzhi lived alone in the converted warehouse studio at the back of the old house for many years, where he ate, slept and lived, and did not like to live with others.

The servant went to the studio door and knocked and called out repeatedly, but there was no response from inside. Everyone realized something was wrong and gathered the family members to push the door open. However, they found that the door was locked from the inside and the windows were also locked from the inside. The entire studio had become a sealed room. Everyone panicked and finally had to pry open the door and break in.

The moment the door was pushed open, Mei Pingzhi was found lying face down on the cold ground, already lifeless. There were obvious blunt force trauma marks on his head, which was fatal. There were no signs of a fierce struggle at the scene, and it looked as if he had been suddenly killed without any warning.

Song Zhiping constructed this scene in his mind: a snowy night, a locked room, the deceased lying face down on the ground, his head smashed, but without struggling. What did this mean? It meant that the murderer was either someone he absolutely trusted, or that the murderer acted when he was completely defenseless, such as when he was sleeping or focused on something.

The author did not give a direct answer, but the phrase "completely unprepared" is itself a hint.

At the time, Shanghai had just experienced a heavy snowfall, and the ground outside the art studio was covered with a fresh layer of snow. When the police arrived, they immediately cordoned off the scene and carefully examined the traces outside. A series of footprints were clearly left on the snow. After comparison, it was confirmed that the footprints belonged only to Mei Pingzhi. Apart from that, there were no other traces of anyone else entering or leaving the entire snowfield. The doors and windows were locked from the inside, and there were no footprints of outsiders outside. A perfectly locked room gave this murder case an eerie atmosphere from the very beginning.

Police found the "Book of Asodo" by Mei Pingzhi's bedside. After reading the contents of the notes, the investigators felt a chill run down their spines. Combining the locked-room scene, the state of the deceased, and this insane notebook, the police quickly made a preliminary deduction: Mei Pingzhi was mentally unstable and obsessed with creating Asodo. Perhaps he was killed in retaliation by someone who knew about his conspiracy before the plan was implemented.

Rumors spread like wildfire, with some speculating that Mei Pingzhi's family, unable to tolerate his madness any longer, had committed the murder.

Some people, combining this with astrological legends, believe that he violated a taboo and suffered a backlash from evil spirits.

Police began investigating all members of Mei Ping's household, as well as Mei Ping's friends, acquaintances, and business associates. However, after a thorough investigation, all the suspects possessed complete and irrefutable alibis. The mystery of the locked room, the killer's identity, and the motive remained unsolved, with no leads leading to a stalemate in the first murder case.

After reading this passage, Song Zhiping didn't rush to the next page. Instead, he placed the manuscript on the table, picked up his teacup, and took a sip. The tea was completely cold, and the bitterness of the cold tea spread across his tongue, but he didn't pay any attention to it.

He mentally reviewed the information from before.

The first unsolved case: Mei Ping died in a locked room, and everyone had an alibi. But he knew there was an even bigger unsolved case behind it, which is what truly made this case "the most bizarre unsolved case in Shanghai's history".

The core question of the first unsolved case is "who killed Mei Pingzhi?", but the author has already planted a deeper hook: are Mei Pingzhi's death and the subsequent fate of his six daughters really two separate things? Or are they actually two sides of the same coin?

Continue reading.

Mei Pingzhi's death was still unsolved when, just ten days later, a new murder occurred, and panic gripped the entire city of Shanghai.

On March 5, Mei Pingzhi's eldest daughter, Yizhi, was found dead in her apartment where she lived alone.

Yizhi was already married and didn't have a close relationship with Meipingzhi. She was also relatively withdrawn. When the police arrived at the scene, they found that Yizhi died of asphyxiation in her neck. She had also been assaulted before her death. The apartment doors and windows were intact, with no signs of forced entry. The items inside were neatly arranged, and none of her money was missing, ruling out the possibility of a robbery and murder.

Physical evidence at the scene pointed to Li Zhuwen, who was in charge of Mei Pingzhi's case at the time. Various traces proved that Li Zhuwen had been in the apartment during the time of the incident.

Li Zhuwen was immediately taken back to the police station for interrogation. Faced with the evidence, he could not deny it and could only admit that he did meet with Yizhi that night and had a sexual relationship with her. However, he repeatedly emphasized that Yizhi was still alive and well when he left the apartment and was definitely not the murderer.

Li Zhuwen is timid and cowardly, and has an honest and upright character. His colleagues are all aware of his character, and considering the details of the scene, his statement seems to have some merit.

Despite the physical evidence, he couldn't completely clear his name. The police repeatedly interrogated him, checked the timeline and witnesses, but still couldn't find direct evidence of Li Zhuwen's crime, nor any other suspicious individuals. Like her father Mei Pingzhi's death, Yizhi's murder case once again became a cold case.

The murders of two members of the Mei family, coupled with the terrifying prophecies in the Book of Asod, have created widespread panic among the people of Shanghai. Everyone is worried that the horrific plans recorded in the diary will gradually become a reality.