The eerie and foreboding scene Gao Yang had envisioned did not materialize. Instead, the room was cloaked in complete darkness, and the air was thick with the stale stench of abandonment, mingled with the musty odor of decay.
Officer Huang shut the door and fumbled in the darkness until he found a pull cord. He gave it a tug.
“Zzzzzz—clack.” After a prolonged struggle, a dim bulb finally flickered to life, casting a weak but sufficient glow throughout the room.
The hall was square and barren, its once-white walls peeling badly. The floor was a cold, bluish cement, and from the ceiling hung a dusty fan, draped in cobwebs.
Directly across from the door was an old-fashioned red wall clock, a starkly incongruous "Western style" piece, still ticking with a steady “tick-tock.”
Beneath the clock stood a dated cabinet, atop which rested a black-and-white television connected to a half-meter antenna. In front of the cabinet, several low, deep-black chairs were arranged; there was no sofa, and it seemed the family usually sat on these chairs to watch TV. A calendar depicting scenic landscapes hung on the left wall, below which sat an old sewing machine. In the corner, several green jars appeared to store pickled vegetables.
There was nothing else in the room—truly a reflection of an era marked by scarcity.
Officer Huang walked over to the sewing machine and wiped his finger through a thick layer of dust. He frowned, “Strange.”
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“Very strange,” Gao Yang agreed, surveying the room. “It feels like no one has lived here for a long time.”
“No kidding! It’s been thirty years!” Wang Zikai interjected.
Gao Yang chuckled wryly and patiently explained, “In our world, yes, this murder happened thirty years ago. But here, it occurred less than two weeks ago. Isn’t the village still holding funeral services for Hua Zi’s family?”
“Oh, right!” Wang Zikai suddenly realized, as if a light had flickered on in his mind.
His intelligence... truly remarkable.
“Not only that, but there were significant bloodstains in the front yard, yet not a single trace of a struggle here in the living room,” Officer Huang clicked his tongue. “Come on, let’s check the other rooms.”
Leading the way, Officer Huang entered the left-side bedroom. A red "double happiness" character was stuck to the door, indicating it had likely been a bridal chamber. Sure enough, when the light came on, the room was bathed in red—red bedding, red pillows, red curtains, red lanterns, red artificial flowers, a red wardrobe, and a red dressing table.
Just like the living room, everything in the room was covered in dust. The juxtaposition of the vibrant red against the layer of time gave the room an odd mixture of festivity and eeriness.
“A girl was married here, on her wedding night,” Officer Huang mused as he returned to the living room, deep in thought. “Something happened. The next day, the entire family was dismembered, their bodies scattered across the village. The bride’s head has yet to be found.”
“Stop!” Fat Jun shuddered. “We’re not here to solve a crime. Let’s focus on how to get out of here.”
“I know. That’s precisely why I want to solve the case,” Officer Huang replied.
Gao Yang nodded. “I agree. To leave this place, we must find the culprit behind the massacre.”
“Do you have any leads?” Officer Huang asked.
Gao Yang began to analyze. “There are no signs of a struggle inside, so the family was either unable to resist or lost the will to fight before they were dismembered. As for where the dismemberment occurred...”
“In the front yard,” Qing Ling added.
“Exactly,” Gao Yang nodded thoughtfully. “That’s all I have for now.”