Translator: CinderTL
Jiang Cheng withdrew his gaze and said, "We'll investigate any questions that arise. For now, let's focus on the Ritual Altar."
The Celestial Master Daoist had set up the altar, and it was also the site of his death. It might hold clues.
Without much effort, they found the Celestial Master Daoist's Ritual Altar among the buildings. Outside stood a strange flag with yellow borders, resembling a sect's magical artifact from a novel.
Surprisingly, a white cloth covered the center of the altar, beneath which a human-like form vaguely bulged. A pair of cloth shoes peeked out from under the cloth, lying limply to one side.
The shoes were white with black soles, and the Yin-Yang symbol was embroidered on the uppers.
Undoubtedly, it was the unfortunate Celestial Master Daoist's corpse. "That old Daoist really got a raw deal," Fatty remarked. "He died and no one even bothered to collect his body."
In the police station's basement, they had seen over a dozen corpses. Director Qiao explained that they were all members of the Feng family. It seemed that the Feng Family didn't care much about the bodies of outsiders, simply covering them with a white cloth and leaving them unattended.
"It seems the Feng Family is truly beyond saving," Zhao Xingguo said with a strange tone. "Otherwise, they wouldn't have just left a stranger's corpse here like this."
Across from the Ritual Altar stood the Feng Family's Ancestral Hall. Inside, rows of black spirit tablets were displayed, many of them newly made.
Leaving a stranger's corpse directly opposite their Ancestral Hall was, at best, disrespectful to their ancestors. At worst, it disrupted their family's Feng Shui.
Especially in the conservative Old Society, such an act could be fatal.
But none of this mattered to the team. They only cared about finding clues and completing their mission as quickly as possible. Whether the Feng Family died en masse or met some other fate was of no concern to them.
"Let's not touch the body yet," Zhao Xingguo suggested. "First, let's search the Ritual Altar. If anyone finds anything, don't keep it to yourselves."
As if to bolster his argument, Zhao Xingguo hesitated before continuing, "I did some research before we came. The previous team that investigated here was no ordinary group. Na Ruhu, who led them, had solved numerous supernatural events before. If even he fell here, you can imagine how dangerous this place must be."
Everyone else treated Zhao Xingguo's rambling with indifference, leaving him deeply frustrated but unable to lash out.
The Ritual Altar was hastily arranged, evident from its crude construction. A purple sandalwood altar table stood at the center.
On the altar table sat three large, golden-orange plates. Jiang Cheng reached out and gently tapped one, producing a dull thud. They were made of copper and felt substantial.
The corpse lay sprawled before the altar table, its head facing the table and its feet pointing outward.
What puzzled them was that such plates were typically used to hold offerings, yet these were completely empty.
Staring at the plates for a moment, Jiang Cheng reached out and lightly brushed his fingers across their surfaces. Then, as if sensing something, he rubbed his fingers together.
Huai Yi appeared tense. The mission was only part of the reason; the current situation was far more critical.
On one side stood Crimson, on the other the Night Watchers. If their identities were exposed, it would likely end in a deadly confrontation.
Moreover, judging from their encounter on the way here, the Night Watchers had already taken notice of this place. Even if they managed to escape safely, they might run straight into a Night Watcher patrol just outside.
"Brother Cheng, did you find something?" Huai Yi asked, noticing Jiang Cheng's actions.
"It's very slippery and slightly greasy," Jiang Cheng said, bringing his fingers to his nose and sniffing lightly. "It's fat."
A few seconds later, Jiang Cheng's expression changed, and his gaze at the plate became somewhat strange.
"What's wrong?" Linghu Yong immediately asked.
"This fat has a very peculiar stench," Jiang Cheng replied, squatting down and wiping the grease from his hand onto the shroud covering the unfortunate taoist's body until it was clean. Only then did he retract his hand.
Fatty: "..."
Hearing that the grease had a smell, everyone crowded around to take a look, but no one dared to touch it like Jiang Cheng had. "Could this be corpse oil?" Pan Du's face turned pale.
"No," Fu Fu said, picking up the plate, sniffing it, and then setting it down. "Corpse oil smells much stronger than this."
"But it's not entirely impossible," Fu Fu continued casually, seemingly unaware of how her words might affect the others in this situation. "I've heard that corpse oil made from fresh corpses is different from that made from decaying ones."
"Damn, how do you know so much about this? Have you Night Watchers encountered this kind of ghost before?" Fatty asked in surprise.
Hearing this, Fu Fu glanced at Fatty. "We Night Watchers would never stoop to such acts. But our sworn enemies, the Crimson Society, are rumored to skewer live humans on giant iron skewers and roast them over a fire until they sizzle with oil."
Huai Yi's heart skipped a beat upon hearing this, and his gaze shifted uncomfortably between Jiang Cheng, Fatty, and Lin Wan'er.
No one paid him any attention. After inspecting the room, everyone turned their attention to the corpse on the floor. Luo He, who had remained silent until now, slowly lifted the white cloth covering the body.
Even though they had prepared themselves, the moment that utterly bizarre face came into view, everyone involuntarily felt a chill run down their spines.
The taoist's face was completely devoid of color. His eyebrows arched dramatically, his eyes were slightly open, revealing yellowed whites, and his mouth was stretched wide, exposing a row of stark white teeth.
Indeed, he was dressed as a taoist, wearing a robe, cloth shoes embroidered with the Yin-Yang symbol, and had white hair and a long, flowing beard.
If it weren't for his truly bizarre face, he might have even looked somewhat like an immortal.
On either side of his body lay a Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams Mirror and a Peachwood Sword.
The mirror appeared to be over a century old. Its copper frame was covered in dents, scratches, and other signs of wear, yet its surface remained as bright as new.
In the light, it emitted a dim, yellowish glow. Jiang Cheng stared at his reflection in the mirror, an indescribable sense of unease rising within him.
"Look at this," Pi Ruan said, his sharp eyes having immediately noticed something unusual beneath the taoist's body.
Pan Du and Linghu Yong moved the taoist's corpse, and everyone was stunned to discover a dozen straw dolls pressed beneath it.
The dolls were crudely made, as if a child had idly crafted them for fun.
They varied in size, but otherwise seemed unremarkable. "This taoist had quite a collection of props," Pan Du said, examining the dolls. "He probably planned to show off his skills to the homeowner, but he died before dawn." After finding nothing unusual about the dolls, he tossed them back onto the ground.
The straw effigy was tossed back to the ground, tumbling a few times before settling motionless beside the taoist.
(End of the Chapter)
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