Chapter 306 - 132: "Clay Figure

Chapter 306: Chapter 132: "Clay Figure

"No. I checked her clothes afterward," Lu Qinglian said bluntly. "I thought I might find some answers about her identity, but it looks like there’s no connection."

"So what exactly is this ’mud figure’ you mentioned? It’s too vague, I don’t really get it. Like a mud man? A swamp monster?" Zhang Shutong asked, confused. "I do remember you saying her body was very soft, like a king oyster mushroom. What did you mean by that?"

’Hey... wait a minute.’

A terrifying answer suddenly occurred to him:

"You didn’t... kill her and find that she didn’t bleed, did you?"

"Zhang Shutong, what on earth is going on in that head of yours?" Lu Qinglian casually peeled the white pith from a tangerine with her nimble fingers. "I took it to that place you call the ’restricted zone,’ and then... it became something else."

She gently tapped the thermos on the headboard with her finger.

"A small clay sculpture, about this big."

"That’s it?"

"That’s it."

’This feels like some kind of strange haunting, or maybe the dead are rising,’ Zhang Shutong thought. ’If taking the haunting "dead" to the "restricted zone" is the same as laying them to rest, then how are these dead people reviving in the first place?’

’Is the restricted zone the key to this as well?’

He felt like he’d heard a similar story somewhere before. Besides the shipwreck incident years ago, the restricted zone was called that as a shorthand for "life-forbidden zone." It was the lowest point on the entire island, a place where the dead were said to resurrect from the mud and return to the world of the living.

And Gu Qiuyan died in that place every single time. If that mud figure hadn’t been dealt with, perhaps it meant... Zhang Shutong suddenly touched his neck, which was covered in goosebumps. He remembered the murderer who had killed him in the Coldblood Line.

Her face was covered by something, something that looked a lot like Gu Qiuyan’s red scarf.

Zhang Shutong was stunned for a long time.

The identity of the person who had killed him, a mystery that had plagued him for so long, seemed to be solved in that single instant.

He opened his mouth silently, feeling the muscles around his eyes tighten, but no sound came out.

’Assuming the woman named "Yun" and the body of Gu Qiuyan’s mother were resurrected because they appeared in the restricted zone, then...’

’...what does that mean for the Lu Qinglian he was seeing?’

Zhang Shutong’s breath caught in his throat.

He slowly turned his head. Lu Qinglian was looking at him, backlit by the moonlight. Her eyes, normally the color of amber, now held a dark gleam.

Zhang Shutong suddenly understood why she was always so evasive when he asked where the mud figure came from. It was because the matter was simply inexplicable!

’There are three known people. If the first two were resurrected from the dead, then what about the third one?’

She watched him indifferently, her lips moving slightly.

Suddenly, a phone rang.

Zhang Shutong’s heart skipped a beat. They both looked toward the glowing phone. Lu Qinglian had placed it on the windowsill a short while ago, and now a call was breaking the silence in the room. Zhang Shutong stared at the phone, but before he could say anything, Lu Qinglian proactively handed it to him.

"It’s Teacher Song."

"..."

Zhang Shutong answered the call, and a man’s voice came through.

"Shutong, how are things on your end?" Song Nanshan still sounded weak, his words coming out in fits and starts. "I haven’t seen Du Kang. Did he go back to the island? Where are you and Qiumian now?"

"It’s been dealt with," Zhang Shutong said, glancing at Lu Qinglian.

After a long silence:

"That person... was it Qiumian’s mother?"

"Yes."

The man suddenly sounded anxious.

"H-How did you deal with it? Don’t tell me her mother wasn’t actually dead, or..."

"You must have known the answer all along," Zhang Shutong said softly. "The dead can’t come back to life."

"..."

Song’s rapid breathing gradually calmed. He didn’t ask why a dead person would appear in the world of the living, nor did he press for details on what it meant to "deal with" a dead person. His voice dropped.

"I... see."

Song Nanshan’s already faint voice grew even weaker.

It was as if the last shred of his wishful thinking had been shattered. Zhang Shutong could almost picture the man lying in his hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The night wind howled past.

After an even longer silence, just when Zhang Shutong thought he was no longer in the mood to talk, Song Nanshan spoke again in a low voice.

"You must have seen the things in my room. I’m sorry, Shutong. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this."

"Shouldn’t you get some rest first?"

"I know you must have a lot of questions for me. Let me find somewhere private." The sound of him struggling to get up could be heard. It was as if their previous conversation had been forgotten in an instant. Song shuffled along in his slippers, muttering habitually, "I knew this city hospital was good for something. It even has a private bathroom. I’ll go in, lock the door, and then we can talk properly..."

He spoke with a forced casualness, spouting nonsense, but he’d smoked so much over the years that his voice was now terribly hoarse, making it a struggle for him to even enunciate clearly.

Zhang Shutong didn’t call him out on it. He simply waited for the sound of a door closing before asking:

"When did you first see the long-haired woman?"

"Four years ago."

"And in between?"

"Just like in the notes. I found nothing. She just suddenly disappeared."

"If I’m not mistaken, you were still looking for your wife back then, and you didn’t know Gu Qiuyan’s mother, but you still clipped her photo in there. Does that mean..."

"It’s just as you guessed. They’re the same person."

"I understand," Zhang Shutong said, ending the conversation. "You should get some rest. I still have things to deal with here."

Zhang Shutong hung up the phone.

There were originally two theories. One was that the three women were three separate people.