Bai Yulao: The Night Watcher's Debt to the King of Hell

Just as Su Wantang was feeling a chill run down her spine, a bell rang, breaking the eerie atmosphere: "Dong—"

The reverberation of the bells tore through the surrounding darkness.

Su Wantang felt as if she had become a wandering soul, forced to attach herself to this fragment of memory from hundreds of years ago.

On a rainy night, torrential rain poured down, washing over the ancient bluestone road.

Su Wantang smelled a scent—the familiar aroma of cumin. Lin Shoumo stood beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, which temporarily eased her anxiety.

Focus your gaze.

The black sedan did not stop. After hitting a woman, it slid forward for dozens of meters before finally coming to a stop in the dark shadows.

The woman lay in the mud, her body contorted at an odd angle. The black canvas bag she was carrying had fallen to the ground, its opening ripped open.

Whoosh!

Several long, golden strips rolled out of the bag, gleaming with an alluring yet cold light under the dim streetlights.

It's gold bars!

Su Wantang's heart skipped a beat!

What she thought was a tragic love story actually involved such a large sum of money?

And standing five or six meters away from the body was a man!

He was wearing a long robe that was already soaked through, and his back view looked extremely desolate and tired.

He seemed stunned by the car accident, frozen in place with his shoulders trembling slightly.

"Was the person who was hit Xiaoyu from the poem?" Su Wantang subconsciously murmured to herself.

Xiaoyu in the picture is still convulsing, her red floral dress stained with blood, as is the gold bars on the ground.

She struggled to lift her head, her eyes, glazed over from blood loss, fixed on the man.

That might be the man she loved with her whole life, the "husband" she thought would take her away from her suffering!

She reached out, her nails digging into the mud, and with her last breath, her voice was hoarse and broken, filled with endless despair and incomprehension:

"Zhang Hansheng...why?...Why is God so unjust?"

Zhang Hansheng?

The name struck like lightning, cleaving through the fog in Su Wantang's mind.

The moment Xiaoyu called out that name, a bizarre scene unfolded…

The man who originally looked "terrified and stiff"—Zhang Hansheng—did not rush over and burst into tears as Su Wantang had expected.

He slowly turned around.

By the dim light of the streetlamp, Su Wantang could see his face clearly.

It was an extremely calm, even indifferent, face.

Where was there even a trace of sadness? In his eyes, there was only a sense of relief after watching his prey die.

He strode towards the gold bars on the ground.

He ignored Xiaoyu, who was still bleeding, and ignored her unseeing eyes!

He simply bent down, picked up a blood-stained gold bar, and carefully wiped the blood off it with his sleeve!

Wipe it, then wipe it again…

The movements were mechanical and cold, as if wiping a dirty vessel, not the blood of one's beloved…

"Lin Shoumo..." Su Wantang felt her blood freeze. Trembling, she asked the charlatan beside her, "Is...is this the truth? There's no tragedy of 'eternal separation,' this is just...murder?"

Lin Shoumo did not answer.

In the illusion, he stared intently at Zhang Hansheng's hand.

"No!" Lin Shoumo's voice was extremely low. "Senior sister, look at his hand!"

Su Wantang stared intently.

Zhang Hansheng was picking up the gold bars from the ground one by one and putting them back into his bag, but when he picked up the fifth one, his hand paused for a moment.

Because there was a piece of paper under that gold bar.

That wasn't the wrapping paper for gold bars, but a... black and white photograph.

The photo shows the profile of a young man, dressed in fine clothes and exuding a dashing air.

And that face was exactly the same as Zhang Hansheng's, but the two had completely different temperaments!

The person in the photo has a resolute gaze, while Zhang Hansheng in front of me has a sinister look in his eyes!

Looking at the photo, Zhang Hansheng suddenly curled up a bizarre smile.

He muttered something to himself, which Su Wantang heard clearly with the help of the chiming bells:

"Xu Wenbin...you think death will bring you relief? Your name, your identity, even your woman...they all belong to me now!"

After saying that, he tore the photo to shreds and threw it into the rain, letting the fragments be washed down the drain.

Then, he picked up the heavy bag of gold bars and the red floral dress he had taken from Xiaoyu, which was still warm from her body, and turned to walk towards the car in the darkness.

Just before getting into the car, he nodded to the figure inside the car window.

The car window rolled down a crack, and a pale hand reached out and handed Zhang Hansheng a... fragment of a stone tablet.

Boom!

A thunderclap streaked across the sky.

The illusion shattered instantly.

Su Wantang suddenly broke free from the dizziness, panting heavily, and found herself still standing in the museum's cold storeroom.

The stone tablet still stands there, but now it looks nothing like a "chastity arch"; it is clearly a seal of sin.

"We're investigating a case involving these ghosts who were wrongly accused. Officer Su, are you sure you're on the right track?"

Lin Shoumo's voice rang out in the darkness, carrying a chill.

"But this case is indeed bizarre. The man named Xu Wenbin may really exist, or he may really love Xiaoyu."

But he's dead, or he was killed!

This man named Zhang Hansheng impersonated Xiaoyu, gained her trust, used her to obtain gold bars, and ultimately staged a car accident to kill her and cover it up!

Su Wantang felt a wave of nausea wash over her: "So... 'Red Floral's' resentment doesn't just stem from her lover's betrayal, but also from..."

"From the 'devouring of identity'!"

Lin Shoumo interrupted her speech. He stepped forward and stared at the inscription on the stone tablet: "An eight-year-old village child makes an umbrella with his fists."

"The man who sheltered Xiaoyu from the rain when she was eight years old was the real Xu Wenbin. Xiaoyu remembered him her whole life, but in the end, she was met with a devil wearing Xu Wenbin's mask!"

Lin Shoumo reached out and gently stroked the deep crack on the stone tablet.

"Zhang Hansheng not only killed people in this way, but also stole their lives!"

But this stone tablet… Officer Su, don’t you find it strange?”

"What?"

"If it was murder and robbery, why leave this stone tablet, engraved with resentment, behind?" Lin Shoumo narrowed his eyes. "Besides, at the end of the illusion, the person in the car gave him a fragment of the stone tablet..."

He abruptly turned to look at Su Wantang, his eyes sharp as knives:

"This stone tablet might not be a tombstone at all; it's a 'monument of resentment,' and also a key to the underworld!"

"Those gold bars... Xiaoyu desperately tried to protect the bag before she died, not for the money, but because she probably thought it contained her and Xu Wenbin's 'future'."

But Zhang Hansheng took the gold bars, yet left this 'stone' behind!

Lin Shoumo took out the piece of sheepskin he had found in the logistics park from his pocket and pressed it against the crack in the stone tablet.

Perfectly fitted!

"Zhang Hansheng might not be dead..." Lin Shoumo stared at the coordinates, his tone chilling. "I can sense someone watching us from above Nandu City!"

Su Wantang looked at the stone tablet and clenched her fist.

"You mean, Zhang Hansheng... or his descendants, are still in Nandu?"

"My opinion is that they may have changed their names or identities!" Lin Shoumo put away the bronze bell and sneered, "But they forgot that the dead are the most trustworthy."

Although Xiaoyu is dead, she remembers this debt clearly with her resentment!

"I think we need to go and meet these living people who have 'possessed' themselves!"