Clearly, this was a serial murder case, yet Director Feng told me it was just an ordinary homicide. Hiding such an important detail—did he not fear losing his position?
I asked about the case details, but a middle-aged man waved me off repeatedly: "The police have already asked so many times. Why don't you go back and find out for yourselves? You're from the city, right? My advice: better to leave it alone. This case wasn't done by a person—it's the work of a ghost!"
I was stunned. "A ghost? What do you mean?"
The man sighed. "Ah, you city cops always dig too deep. I still have to deliver these bricks. How about this—come to my place after lunch, and I'll tell you more."
He left us his address, grabbed his bricks, and left.
There was still an hour before noon, so we skipped lunch. I called Huang Xiaotao and shared this crucial information. She was equally shocked and planned to question Director Feng for clarity.
We ate some simple snacks in Wang Yuanchao's car, then drove to the village after twelve. Upon entering, many villagers watched us curiously. Dogs barked and ran alongside—here, every household had dogs; it was truly a place "where no home is without a chicken or dog."
We arrived at the middle-aged man's house. He was squatting at the doorway, holding a bowl and chatting animatedly, telling dirty jokes to the neighbor's young wife. She blushed and scolded him for being a scoundrel.
When he saw us, he quickly changed his tone. "Why are you here so early? I haven't finished eating yet!"
I said, "Wait a moment."
He put down his bowl. "Forget it, come inside."
He was a bachelor living simply. The house was dim; no lights were on. He brewed two large bowls of tea and sat down with us at the table. Then he asked if we had seen the sealed well at the village entrance.
I thought for a moment. "Yes, we saw it. Why?"
He whispered mysteriously, "There's a female ghost living in that well."
He then began to tell the story, going back to the Qing Dynasty.
Once, there was a young woman in the village, just eighteen, as beautiful as a flower. But born into a poor family, her parents married her off to an old local landowner—an obstinate scholar in his fifties. The girl was deeply unwilling, cried buckets of tears, and only gave in after the matchmaker and parents wore her down.
The old landowner never had any luck with women. On their wedding night, after drinking heavily, he caught a cold and fell seriously ill.
As a dutiful wife, the girl took care of him day and night. His health worsened daily; he became bedridden, unable to even use the bathroom without help. Yet the wife bore it all without complaint.
One day, sensing death approaching, the old man asked what she wanted to eat. She said she'd make it herself. He requested freshly fried dough sticks. The girl set up a pot in the bedroom and started frying.
He ate half a piece and complained, "There's a bug in the oil." The girl leaned in to look, saying she saw nothing. Suddenly, he pushed her face into the scalding oil. Relatives nearby were horrified.
The girl broke free and collapsed, her once-beautiful face horribly burned and disfigured. Her screams were heart-wrenching and chilling.
The old man said, "After I die, you'll remarry, but the Chen family's reputation cannot be ruined! I disfigured you so you'd remain a widow, faithful to me. After a hundred years, we'll reunite in the afterlife."
The woman cried for three days, then went insane. She roamed the village babbling nonsense, clawing at the faces of young girls she saw. The family, ashamed, locked her up and removed all mirrors.
But she often escaped. Once, she even stabbed her sister-in-law's face with scissors. Fed up, her family threw her into a dry well, feeding her just enough to survive.
No one knew how long she lived there. At night, villagers said they could hear her crying from the well—crying, then laughing, then crying again—terrifying all who heard.
She eventually died in the well. The well was said to be heavily cursed. People frequently fell into it without reason—mostly young, beautiful women. Some said the ghostly woman was lonely and dragged others down to keep her company; others believed she was jealous of women younger and prettier than herself.
The villagers sealed the well, but on the seventh day of each lunar month—the anniversary of her death—anguished cries still echoed from its depths.
After finishing, the man sighed, "What a tragic woman."
Wang Yuanchao and I remained unmoved. I felt this was a waste of time. I never believed in ghosts causing murders—and neither did the police.
I asked, "What does this have to do with the case?"
He sneered, "Are you really a cop? Don't you have any common sense? The dead women were all disfigured, wearing red dresses—like old-fashioned wedding gowns. It has to be that ghost!"
I asked, "Were you present when the bodies were found?"
He stiffly replied, "I don't know. I work away. Ask Wu Laosan; he knows best."
I decided to check the files first and return later. As I left, the man shouted, "Take care, no need to see you off!"
We got into the car, but Wang Yuanchao struggled to start it. Checking the fuel gauge, the tank was empty—yet it was full when we arrived.
I suddenly smelled gasoline. Seeing all doors tightly shut, I immediately felt something was wrong. I shouted, "Uncle Wang, get out of the car!"
Outside, we saw the fuel tank had been punctured. Gasoline was pouring out onto the ground.
From the alley, several young men appeared, their eyes cold and murderous. They carried iron rods, bricks, sickles—dangerous weapons.
I realized then the man's earlier call was a signal to them. The folk tale was a ruse to stall us. These men actually planned to ambush the police! Their audacity was shocking.
This was the first time I'd faced such a scene. Of course, I was scared—but now was not the time to back down.
I said firmly, "Do you know the penalty for assaulting a police officer?"
One man sneered, "We're uneducated and don't know, but we know one thing: 'The law doesn't punish the crowd!' Brothers, beat these two city cops to death! Whoever breaks a leg gets a pig from me!"
Before the words finished, they surged forward.
Wang Yuanchao shouted, "Get in the car! I'll handle them."
This was no time to hesitate. I'm a useless weakling who would only slow him down.
I shouted, "Be careful!"
Wang Yuanchao flexed his strong shoulders. "Don't worry about me. Protect yourself!"