Volume Nine: The Sin of Enchantment Chapter Two: The Vanished Evidence

Yao Guang and her team returned to the home of the deceased. Mrs. Qian was tidying up her husband’s belongings and spoke little, letting them look around as they wished.

They entered the bedroom. Huo Mingkun activated his Golden Eye and scanned the room, sensing the faint magnetic field he had noticed before—it was present here as well, but not throughout the room; instead, it was concentrated around the double bed. “The magnetic field is strongest near the bed.”

Chen Haixu sniffed around like a police dog. “Sis, the scent is most pronounced on the bed. It’s so strange.”

Yao Guang glanced at them and then at the bed, searching the sheets meticulously. She had asked Mrs. Qian to leave the bedroom untouched for several days, so it remained as it was at the time of the incident. Carefully searching the area where the deceased had lain, Yao Guang found a few scraps of paper. She collected them and stepped out. “Mrs. Qian, did your husband have an interest in calligraphy or painting?” she inquired.

“No, he was only interested in sports. I never saw him show any interest in calligraphy or art,” Mrs. Qian replied.

“What about his work? Did he have any side jobs?” Yao Guang asked.

“He was a software designer. As far as I know, he had no other employment,” Mrs. Qian answered.

“Thank you.” With that, Yao Guang left.

On the way back, her brows were knitted. “Here’s something I can’t figure out. The deceased was a software designer—would he have much contact with paper?” she asked.

“Not likely,” Huo Mingkun replied.

“The books on his shelf were all related to computers, right?” Yao Guang continued.

“Yes, I checked—they were all computer books,” Chen Haixu confirmed.

“So tell me, how did these paper scraps end up here? The deceased didn’t like calligraphy or painting, had no side jobs—why would there be fragments of rice paper on his bed, especially tucked beneath the covers? What could he have been holding while he slept?” Yao Guang held up the evidence bag.

“We searched the house and found no calligraphy, paintings, or rice paper,” Jiang Yun said.

“Then where did these scraps come from? Forensics found nothing on the clothes he wore, yet the paper fragments appeared in the bedding. Isn’t that odd?” Yao Guang pressed.

“Could it be another ‘Spirit in the Painting’?” Huo Mingkun speculated.

“Assume it is. We all know that the spirit born from a painting or book is called a ‘Mei.’ No matter how it acts, it can't leave its vessel—the painting or book it emerges from. But in this case, we found no vessel in the deceased’s home. The faint scent and magnetic field are inexplicable, and if you think back to Professor Zhou’s ‘Spirit in the Painting,’ the circumstances were entirely different. Isn’t that strange?” Yao Guang mused.

“Master, let’s send these paper scraps for analysis,” Jiang Yun suggested.

“Agreed.” Yao Guang nodded.

Back at the police station, she summoned Xuan Chen and described what they’d found. “I suspect supernatural interference. The deceased did not die a natural death. I believe he was drained of his vital energy by an unknown spirit, which is why he appeared so aged at the time of death.”

“Phoenix, the test results are here. The paper scraps you brought back contain rice paper components and traces of paint,” forensics reported, handing her the report.

“Good. Now we need to find the source of these scraps. Once we do, we’ll know what drained the deceased’s vital energy,” Yao Guang stated.

“Notify Captain Song to investigate the deceased’s social circle, focusing on close friends—see if anyone knows whether he acquired any paintings or rice paper recently. Pull elevator and corridor surveillance footage from the day Mrs. Qian left on her business trip. Check if he brought anything home. Interview Mrs. Qian again, especially about his friends. Our goal is to locate this missing physical evidence,” Yao Guang directed.

“Understood,” Xuan Chen replied.

“Phoenix, come look at this,” a technician called.

Yao Guang went over. The technician pointed at the surveillance footage. “Look here—this is from seven days ago. See what the deceased is holding?”

“A painting scroll?!” Yao Guang exclaimed. “Then my suspicion was correct.”

“But the footage shows he brought the scroll home but never took it out again,” the technician said.

“He brought it home, but didn’t take it out. Where did the scroll go? It’s not in the house. I asked Captain Song—his team searched thoroughly and found nothing,” Jiang Yun said.

“This is getting interesting,” Yao Guang remarked. “Keep checking the surveillance around the deceased’s home over the past week—parking garage, entrances, building perimeter.”

“Phoenix, these men are the deceased’s close friends. They’ve come for questioning,” Captain Song announced, leading in four men.

“Please sit,” Yao Guang said, taking them to the lounge.

“Officer, how did A Rong die?” asked the man in blue.

“Organ failure. I can’t disclose more—the case is still under investigation,” Yao Guang replied.

“How could such a healthy person die so suddenly?” the man in blue lamented.

“You were his closest friends, right? I have a few questions,” Yao Guang said.

“Go ahead,” the man in blue replied.

“Where were you last night between eleven and one?” Yao Guang asked.

“We were at Star KTV. We invited A Rong but he didn’t come. We got there around eight after work and left at three in the morning—everyone was drunk,” said the man in black.

Huo Mingkun stepped out to verify.

“Did Jiang Junrong have any interest in calligraphy or art collecting?” Yao Guang asked.

“No, he was always very disciplined. His only hobby was exercising. In all our years of friendship, I’ve never seen him show any interest in art or antiques,” the man in blue replied.

“Did you notice any odd behavior recently?” Yao Guang asked.

“Yes, we met often—he and I worked together, so we saw each other daily. He’s always been energetic and cheerful, but since his wife left on her trip, he became withdrawn and sleepy. Two days ago, he made mistakes in his programming—he’s worked at the company for over ten years without error, and this time he messed up in ways he never should have. Also, his hair was graying rapidly, and he seemed to age overnight. We asked him about it, but he said nothing. The strangest thing was the deep hollows in his eyes. We thought he was ill and wanted to take him to the hospital, but he got angry, smashed a teacup, and left. He didn’t come to work the next day. We called, and his wife answered, telling us what happened,” the man in the jacket explained.

“Did you know if he visited any unusual places lately? Antique shops, for instance?” Yao Guang asked.

“No, he shouldn’t have. We were together during the day—never saw him go anywhere special. He went home at night. His wife can confirm,” the man in the jacket said. “Wait, I just remembered something. Around seven in the evening, I called A Rong to check on him, asked if he needed anything. He mumbled something about not needing anything, just wanting the ‘immortal lady in the painting.’ Then he hung up. I thought he was half-asleep and didn’t pay attention, but now that you mention paintings, it comes to mind.”

“Thank you. If you recall anything else, please contact me,” Yao Guang said.

“Thank you, Officer. We hope you solve the case soon.” The four men departed.

“Sis, Star KTV’s footage confirms their story—they have no criminal suspicion. Captain Song checked everything; Jiang Junrong was a gentleman with a stellar reputation,” Huo Mingkun reported.

“‘Immortal lady in the painting?’ That’s intriguing,” Chen Haixu mused. “If the deceased was bewitched and drained of vital energy by something so alluring, then the evidence we found makes sense.”

“By that logic, it does make sense. Now we have several questions. First, the deceased had no interest in art, nor did he frequent antique shops. We can rule out gifts from friends. So where did the painting scroll come from? Second, after his death, the scroll vanished. Where is it now? Without answers, we can't trace the scroll or confirm what was inside. The cause of death remains a mystery,” Yao Guang said.

“If the deceased didn’t seek out the scroll, perhaps the scroll sought him. We found unexplained magnetic fields in his home and on his person. A spirit bound to a painting, able to drain someone’s vital energy without leaving a trace, must be extraordinary. Is it possible the vessel found its way to him?” Chen Haixu asked.

“It’s possible,” Yao Guang nodded. “So now the question is, where did he encounter this painting?”

“Phoenix, there’s a new discovery in the surveillance near the deceased’s home,” Xuan Chen called.

Yao Guang and her team hurried to the computer.

“Look, this is the underground parking lot. At eleven p.m., the deceased steps out, bends down, and picks up something. He unfolds it, then closes it, and appears in the corridor holding the same object—a painting scroll.”

“That explains it. He found the scroll in the parking lot, was entranced upon opening it, and brought it home. The subsequent events now make sense,” Yao Guang said. “Pull footage from the time of his death—see if there are any clues.”

“Here’s footage from across the street, the night of the deceased’s death,” another technician said. Yao Guang approached. The camera was aimed at the balcony of the deceased’s apartment. At 12:20 a.m., something flew from the balcony and landed on the lawn below. At 12:40 a.m., a man in black passed beneath the tree, bent down, and picked something up.

“The estimated time of death was around midnight. At 12:20, something fell from the balcony—no one was home, the deceased was already dead. Who could have thrown it down?” Yao Guang wondered aloud.

“The scroll itself,” Chen Haixu interjected. “The ‘Spirit in the Painting’ killed the deceased, left with the scroll, and at 12:40 a.m. was picked up by the man in black. Clearly, it’s seeking its next victim.”

“Exactly. Immediately pull surveillance and identify that man. We must find him,” Yao Guang ordered.