Chapter 37: Whose Legs Are Weaker

Wang Yuanteng was a man well aware of his own physical limitations. Once new arrangements were confirmed at Wuqiu Mountain, he began contacting the prison where Zheng Xinmin—the uncle of Ge Jiawen—was serving his sentence, filing an application for a collaborative investigation.

The procedure was not overly complicated. Criminal investigators frequently visited prisons throughout the year to question inmates, and the prison staff simply followed standard protocol to bring the prisoner out when the time came.

Cen Lian had slept soundly at a guesthouse at the foot of Lingguan Mountain. Before drifting off, he had been pondering a serious question: Why had this group, who had previously only committed murders to silence witnesses around Lingguan Mountain, suddenly traveled to Kang'an City to kill five people before vanishing without a trace? Had they really stopped killing, or had their methods for burying bodies become so sophisticated that subsequent victims were never discovered?

Cen Lian fell asleep with his mind full of doubts.

The next morning, the weather was frigid, and the vegetation at the foot of Lingguan Mountain was coated in frost. Tang Hua, wrapped in a thick overcoat, squatted in the courtyard watching the frost.

"You should be able to see rime ice here in the winter," Qi Yan remarked, a rare spark of interest in his voice as he gazed at the nearby cliffs. "The humidity is sufficient."

The guesthouse owner smiled as he brought out breakfast. "Teachers see things differently, don't they? We do get rime ice here in the winter. It’s not just here; the nearby guesthouses see it too, which is why business is actually busier in the winter than it is now."

Scenery that attracts tourists for photos can certainly boost visitor numbers, but Qi Yan was just making idle conversation. Wang Yuanteng stepped in to keep the owner talking, allowing Qi Yan to stay quietly to the side.

Cen Lian exhaled, watching the white mist rise and dissipate. "Time to go back to work," he sighed genuinely. "If only every day could be this leisurely."

"If you were all that idle, there would be no one left to nurture the flowers of our motherland," the owner joked. "But everyone is under a lot of pressure these days. People often come to these mountains and stay for a month or two. They rent those villas halfway up the mountain; it’s even quieter there than here."

Wang Yuanteng immediately grew alert. "There are villas in these mountains?" he asked, affecting a casual tone. "Do they actually sell? This place is quite remote."

"I wouldn't know. That villa complex was built over a decade ago. Maybe rich people just like buying in places like this," the owner replied dismissively.

Wang Yuanteng chuckled. "True. Rich people don't care if their property depreciates. Unlike me, I took out a loan to buy a place in the city a few years ago, and I've already lost over a hundred thousand in less than three years."

Everyone laughed, knowing that Wang Yuanteng had indeed lost that much on his property. After breakfast, they made a show of preparing to leave, packing their bags and heading out. Tang Hua drove to where their battered Santana was parked and dropped Cen Lian and Wang Yuanteng off.

"We're heading to the prison now. Stay in touch if anything comes up, and keep yourselves safe," Cen Lian called out through the half-open window before he and Wang Yuanteng drove toward the city.

The old Santana hummed for a while in the cold winter air before finally starting, chugging along as it carried Cen Lian and Wang Yuanteng toward the Wucheng First Prison. Zheng Xinmin and his brother were both from Wucheng, a city more than a hundred kilometers away from Yunzhong.

"Are you suspecting the villa complex in Lingguan Mountain, too?" Wang Yuanteng asked on the road. "I noticed you were looking up information about it the whole way."

"The villas themselves shouldn't be the issue. I’ve looked at the planning; it was initially designed as a summer retreat. The scale isn't very large, and while many were sold years ago, news reports suggest most of them are vacant now." Cen Lian had been constantly analyzing where this group would establish a base in the mountains. Clearly, they were not small in number and possessed significant firepower; they couldn't just huddle anywhere.

Wang Yuanteng considered this, thinking that even if the group had once lived in the complex, they were likely gone now. Still, perhaps seeing Zheng Xinmin would yield some answers.

...

In contrast to Cen Lian and Wang Yuanteng, who were huddled together in the car seeking warmth, the scene at Wuqiu Mountain was far more intense.

Tang Hua wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned to Ge Jiawen. "Is this the tunnel you dug?"

Ge Jiawen nodded repeatedly. "My uncle later held a funeral for the four people inside, but we never touched anything else down there."

After locating the filled-in tunnel, the team at Wuqiu Mountain began carefully excavating it, intent on recovering any traces of human activity. Ge Jiawen had previously stated that the four men with his uncle had been smothered to death inside. Although years had passed, it was possible that evidence remained.

Yuan Chenxi helped organize the records while Qi Yan and Tang Hua took Ge Jiawen to search for the site where the group had used their guns. Ge Jiawen circled the area for a long time before tentatively pointing to a section. "I could only listen with my ears back then. It should be around here." He tried hard to identify the spot but couldn't find the exact location.

Tang Hua and Qi Yan remained patient, sifting through the area slowly. If a murder had occurred here, there might be traces of blood.

Over an hour later, Tang Hua suddenly shouted, "I found a shell casing!" He sounded excited.

Qi Yan rushed over, and his expression darkened as soon as he identified the casing. "It's a rifle round," he said, peering at the markings. "It looks like it’s been here at least three or four years."

Wuqiu Mountain arrived shortly after, picked up the casing, and immediately identified the firearm. "A Type 56 semi-automatic. This rifle is old, but its lethality is nothing to sneeze at," he said, looking at the evidence bag. "It's hard to say if any bloodstains remain in this environment."

Indeed, in the open air, biological traces would have long been broken down by microorganisms. Wuqiu Mountain continued to collect samples from the surroundings but found no blood.

Ge Jiawen stood by, watching them take samples, his eyes constantly scanning for familiar landmarks. "What are you looking at?" Yuan Chenxi asked.

Ge Jiawen scratched his head. "I'm not sure which fork in the road they came from. I was too far away to see clearly."

Wuqiu Mountain looked up to see two diverging paths on the hillside. "Call the local police station and have them send more people to help search," he ordered without hesitation. "Make sure there are at least ten people on each path."

Several officers and auxiliary police from the Lingguan Township station were already assisting them. Yuan Chenxi went to contact the station, while Qi Yan frowned after comparing the terrain to a map. "The environment here is similar to where the third female victim was dumped." A complex 3D map appeared on his phone.

Wuqiu Mountain decided he couldn't make sense of the technology, so he chose to trust Qi Yan. "Does this mean we are getting closer to their lair?" Tang Hua asked, suddenly tense.

Ge Jiawen leaned against a rock, his legs trembling.

But at that moment, someone else’s legs were far weaker.

At Wucheng First Prison, the moment Cen Lian mentioned the name "Tu Lou," Zheng Xinmin—Ge Jiawen’s uncle—nearly collapsed to his knees.

"I know him! I know him!" Zheng Xinmin regained his composure, his voice rapid. "I only turned myself in to hide from him, because we saw them kill someone."

"Are you talking about Lingguan Mountain?" Cen Lian asked.

Zheng Xinmin closed his eyes in agony. "Not just that time. We actually saw them back when we were in Kang'an City."