Chapter 151: The Listening Device

If it weren't for the fact that the fatty and this young girl had been right beside me the entire time, I would have suspected that the two of them started this fire. After all, setting a fire is the only way to manufacture a legitimate pretext for entering my older brother's house. Just moments ago, if I hadn't genuinely lost my temper and flown into a rage, the two of them would have already sneaked inside.

The young girl drove like a maniac. By the time we rushed to my brother's house, thick black smoke was already billowing from the building. Judging by the direction of the smoke, it was actually pouring out of the second floor. The villagers wanted to go in and fight the fire, but my brother's front gate was bolted shut, making entry completely impossible. Seeing me step out of the vehicle—Sanlitun is not far from Fudigou, and everyone knew I was the younger brother of the homeowner, Sun Zhongmou—they swarmed over and asked me, "Do you have the keys? If you do, hurry up and open it so we can go in and put out the fire!"

"I don't have them," I shook my head and replied.

"What do we do now? Should we break the lock?" The fatty looked at me.

At a loss for what to do, I stared blankly. The fatty glanced at me, picked up a large boulder, walked over, and smashed the lock apart in a matter of seconds. Once it was broken, he shouted to the villagers, "Quick, put out the fire!"

While the villagers were eager to help, it was already far too late. Compared to the raging inferno, bucket after bucket of water was nothing more than a drop in the bucket. Seeing that the fire was completely out of control, the fatty turned to me and said, "Ye, let Fatty here go in for a look. I'm really not trying to pry into your brother's secrets this time; I'm just trying to help. If there's anything inside that's important to your brother, we should try to salvage whatever we can."

Naturally, I knew what was going on in the fatty's head. Salvaging things was true, but catching a glimpse of my brother's secrets while doing so was undoubtedly an added bonus. At a critical juncture like this, I couldn't afford to be overly stubborn or pedantic. However, looking at the towering flames, I said to him, "Forget it. The fire is too big; going in there is far too dangerous."

"Don't worry!" the fatty declared.

With that, he ran over to a local villager's house and dragged out a cotton quilt. After soaking the quilt thoroughly with water, he grabbed another bucket of water and poured it straight over his own head. Then, hoisting the soaked quilt over his shoulder, he charged right into the burning building. The villagers were left staring in dumbfounded shock. I couldn't help but worry for the fatty either, thinking to myself that this guy was truly risking his life just to peek at my brother's secrets. How could he dare to walk into a fire like that?

Just as we were growing increasingly anxious, the window of my brother's attic suddenly shattered and crashed to the ground, sending a shower of sparks flying in all directions. Immediately afterward, an object was tossed down. When I looked closely, I recognized it at once: it was the very same drum my brother had been clutching that night at the Twelve Ghosts' Cave. To say the least, the moment I saw that drum, I knew the fatty's dangerous trip inside had been entirely worth it. The drumhead was crafted from the human skin stripped from my father's back years ago. This carried immense, irreplaceable significance for both my brother and me.

Because the window had been forced open, the fire inside flared up even more fiercely. I yelled toward the window, "Fatty! Have you lost your mind? Get out here right now!"

Yet the fatty seemed completely deaf to my shouts and offered no reply. The young girl chuckled and said, "Your fatty friend is probably going to turn into a roasted suckling pig this time. He's really putting his life on the line."

"Do us all a favor and keep quiet. Aren't you still looking for your grandmother?" I glared at the girl.

Right at that moment, a bulky figure leaped out from the window and crashed heavily onto the ground. The silhouette was unmistakably the fatty. I hurried over immediately. The guy was clutching his backside and wailing in agony; the surface of the cotton quilt was charred completely black, and a good portion of the hair on his head had been singed off. Yet tightly clenched in his hand was a bronze mirror.

At that point, I didn't care what else the fatty had managed to salvage. I asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thank goodness Fatty's got a thick backside. Ye, everything inside is pretty much burned to a crisp. The smoke was so thick I couldn't keep my eyes open. I saw the drum right by the doorway, so I tossed it out, and then I just grabbed this thing on my way out," the fatty said, holding up the bronze mirror.

"You have a death wish, don't you? Are you seriously trying to become a roasted suckling pig?" I scolded him with a glare.

By this time, the roaring flames had completely swallowed my brother's entire house, leaving us utterly helpless. The fatty managed to stumble to his feet. Although he hadn't sustained any major injuries, his hands and arms were covered in blisters, looking grim and horrifying. He patted my shoulder and said, "Ye, when Fatty went inside just now, I stumbled upon two gasoline barrels. The air reeked of strong gasoline fumes. Someone set this fire deliberately."

I nodded in agreement. "My brother always cooks using firewood out in the courtyard; there isn't anything flammable inside the house. The moment the fire started, I suspected arson."

Both the fatty and I turned our gazes toward the young girl. She looked a bit unnerved by our stares and snapped, "What? Why are you two looking at me like that? I came here entirely alone this time, and I've been with you the whole way!"

"Think about it. My brother has been gone for days, and the front gate was bolted shut. This fire wasn't meant to burn my brother to death; its sole purpose was to destroy whatever was inside. Moreover, it didn't happen a moment sooner or later—it broke out precisely after you arrived," I pointed out.

"How does that have even a sliver of connection to me? You should go ask whoever started the fire!" the young girl retorted defensively.

"Stop arguing. Fatty has a pretty good idea of what's going on. Come on, let's head back to the village committee office," the fatty said with a mysterious air.

"Aren't we going to wait until the fire burns out to see if anything was left behind?" I asked.

"Two massive barrels of gasoline? Once it burns down, not even a scrap will be left. Let's go, back we go," the fatty insisted.

We piled into the young girl's car and sped back to the village committee office like a streak of lightning. The fatty suddenly began acting very strangely. As soon as we stepped inside the building, he made a shushing gesture, then tiptoed stealthily into the room we had been occupying earlier. Signaling us to stay by the doorway, he began rummaging around with feather-light movements. A moment later, hidden in a corner beneath the long table in the village committee office, the fatty retrieved a small electronic box with a green light blinking on it, indicating it was actively operating.

Just as I was about to open my mouth, the fatty signaled for silence once again. He placed the electronic box gently on the table, walked back out, and beckoned for us to leave the room.

"What on earth is that?" I asked.

"It's a bug, a wiretap. The timing of your brother's house catching fire is no coincidence. It's because we discussed checking out the second floor of your brother's house while we were here in the village committee office. Evidently, whoever was eavesdropping on us didn't want us to take a look. Even after we said we wouldn't go, they still weren't at ease—that's why they resorted to arson," the fatty explained.

"You've got to be kidding me. We were being wiretapped?" Eavesdropping devices were things I had only ever seen in movies; I had never encountered them in real life.

"This type of listening device is actually quite ordinary. Fatty used to study these things; for someone to receive the signal, the eavesdropper has to be within a hundred meters. Come on, let's go hunt them down," the fatty said.

The three of us split up and began searching the perimeter within a hundred meters of the village committee office to find the person operating the wiretap. I was genuinely astonished—I never imagined there would be a villager in my vicinity capable of using such high-tech equipment. At the same time, I felt a surge of excitement; perhaps this time, we would finally unmask the malicious individual lurking in the shadows around us.

Before long, I discovered a small box hidden in a secluded corner. An earphone was plugged into the device, and while there was plenty of fresh cigarette ash scattered on the ground, not a single cigarette butt was to be left behind. I picked up the earphone and listened; the earpiece only produced a faint static hiss. This was undoubtedly the equipment used by the other party monitoring the bug. I made a phone call to the fatty and another to the young girl. The fatty hurried over, took one look at the device, and nodded. "Yep, this is it."

"Either this person spotted us while we were searching for the bug, or they are utterly paranoid. Look at this—there's so much ash on the ground, yet not a single cigarette butt. They cleaned up every last one of them, making sure to leave us zero clues," I observed.

The fatty nodded in agreement. "Your powers of observation are sharp, Ye. Who do you think in this entire village knows how to use something like this?"

"God knows. If anyone were likely to use this, I'd be the only one, seeing as I'm the only person from here who ever made it out to college. But with the internet being so widespread these days, people probably hear about these gadgets online," I replied. Trying to track down the arsonist from this angle seemed impossibly difficult.

"Who holds the keys to the village committee office? Why don't you think about that?" the young girl suggested.

"Aside from the accountant, nobody even locks this place. There used to be a lock, but after Fatty came here and stayed over, he didn't like dealing with keys, so we just stopped locking the door altogether," I said.

The fatty shrugged. "What, are you blaming Fatty now?"