Chapter Thirty-One: The Fat Man’s Second Theory

When Fatty said that, I tried to hold it in, but pretending was never my strong suit. I burst out laughing, and that laugh was as good as giving myself away. But at this point, Fatty and I were in a standoff, each trying to outlast the other in patience. I said, “Say what you want. If you tell me, I might share something in return. Otherwise, take your time guessing.”

“Damn you!” Fatty cursed.

“I have no uncles, but if I did, I’d thank you on their behalf.” His insult, oddly enough, made me feel even closer to him, like friends exchanging barbs.

“Fine, I admit defeat,” Fatty conceded, then leaned in, tempting me, “But let me be honest with you, brother King of Thieves. If I’m not mistaken, you’re even more curious than I am. I don’t know your eldest brother well, but I’d wager he won’t tell you much. Doesn’t that vex you? So teaming up with me is your best option. With me around, we can unravel the truth together. Isn’t it better to be in control than dragged around by the nose?”

“You go first. I need a little more time to think. Besides, I want to see how much you can actually figure out,” I replied.

Fatty nodded. “Alright, listen closely as I lay out this third possibility. This one is that your eldest brother’s sudden arrival made the killer feel threatened. He can’t keep you hidden away, and he can’t kill your brother either. What’s left? He has to move quickly to accomplish something, very likely connected to your father’s death. So, deducing the killer isn’t hard. After your brother returned and made a splash, the first family in the village to act strangely would be the prime suspect.”

I closed my eyes. I had to admit, Fatty’s deduction made perfect sense, and I suspected my brother’s so-called plan to force the killer into the open was exactly as Fatty surmised.

So what was the very first event after my brother’s return—the starting point of everything that’s happened lately?

Finally, I opened my eyes and said, “Chen Stone. He bought a woman from outside. A few days after she arrived, the fool came out of the grave, and then everything else happened. I always had a hunch these things were connected, but honestly, there’s this strange sense to recent events—a feeling of inevitable connection, but I just can’t see the causality. Like last night, you saw it too—Uncle Zhu forced me to sleep with that woman or I’d die. He said if I slept with her, it would all be over. But what’s the logic? I spent all last night trying to figure out what links these things, and I couldn’t.”

“You’re wrong. What seems unrelated is actually the biggest link of all,” Fatty replied, his expression inscrutable.

“I’m all ears,” I said.

“Let’s talk about what you know first. Do I look like someone who does business at a loss?” Fatty was still trying to get information out of me.

I looked at him. Truthfully, after these past days together, I’d say if Fatty weren’t a friend of Tang Renjie, I’d definitely make him my friend. I appreciated people like him—sharp-tongued at times, but that only made him all the more endearing. Not to mention his knowledge of the occult and the deduction skills he’d shown today. I’d choose to trust him. If I’d really had a falling out with Tang Renjie over that dinner, I wouldn’t be so guarded. But my brother’s warning stuck with me: Tang Renjie and that old Liu from Beijing had ulterior motives. Tang Renjie’s son hadn’t drowned by accident—they wanted something in the Twelve Ghost Grottos. My brother didn’t spell out what, but I could sense Tang Renjie’s purpose. So I couldn’t confide in Fatty, even if he’d explained his relationship with Tang Renjie.

The world is complicated, and I don’t have my brother’s abilities. I have to stay vigilant.

Fatty was getting annoyed. “What are you so wary of me for?”

“Tang Renjie’s son didn’t drown in the Twelve Ghost Grottos. He and that old Liu from the capital are after something in there,” I said, fixing Fatty with a hard stare.

I saw the flash of shock in Fatty’s eyes, then confusion. He scratched his head. “Tang Renjie? Something in the Twelve Ghost Grottos?”

“You didn’t know?” I pressed him.

“I really didn’t. Are you kidding me?” He was genuinely surprised.

I wasn’t sure I could read people well enough, but from his eyes, I felt Fatty wasn’t lying. I stared straight into his eyes—mannerisms and expressions can be faked, but the truth in someone’s eyes is much harder to hide. At least, I believed Fatty genuinely didn’t know.

He nodded in sudden realization. “So you don’t trust me because of my connection with Tang Renjie? Fair enough. In your shoes, I’d be suspicious too. Fine, I won’t push you. But I have to say, you’ve well and truly hooked my interest. I knew Tang Renjie wouldn’t use a favor like this for nothing. At first, I thought he was doing your brother a solid, or maybe he had some secret deal with Chen Qingshan. But now, it’s clear—the situation here in this little backwater is much more complicated!”

Despite his words, I felt a pang of guilt. If Fatty truly was innocent—hadn’t taken any money, treated me as a friend, shared so much—was I being unfair? I said, “Honestly, I know little more than you. But here’s a secret: the fool’s body drifted downstream and ended up just before the Twelve Ghost Grottos. The Uncle Zhu you saw last night was the one who retrieved his corpse.”

Fatty’s interest was piqued. “Oh?”

“There’s another master hidden in the village. I don’t know if he’s the Masked Man, but he seems to know everything—about my father’s death, the fool’s death. Before Uncle Zhu went to recover the fool’s body, this master knew Zhu would encounter the coffin and gave him a talisman. That’s how Uncle Zhu survived when the coffin tried to snatch the corpse from him at the Twelve Ghost Grottos—the talisman protected him.”

“Tell me more,” Fatty said, suddenly grave.

So I recounted everything Uncle Zhu had told me, as a return for Fatty’s analysis today. As for the woman in Chen Stone’s house—she was my online acquaintance, here to investigate. Until I trusted Fatty completely, I would never reveal that, for her safety.

After hearing me out, Fatty pinched the bridge of his nose and began pacing, muttering to himself. I let him think in peace. After a while, he slapped his forehead. “Inside that stone coffin is a river demon, and a powerful one at that—even the City God wouldn’t dare provoke it. The earth energy of Luoyang is a dragon vein, which is why so many dynasties made their capitals here. The Luo River is a mighty water-dragon vein, and the Twelve Ghost Grottos cut right across it—severing the dragon, so to speak. That’s why the entity inside grew so powerful. Yet such a formed spirit would want the fool’s corpse? For what?”

“Exactly. That’s what’s so maddening. Everything seems connected, but you just can’t pin down the cause,” I replied, just as perplexed as Fatty.

“Old Lady Wang’s last words before she died—‘A wrong case must be paid for with a life’—must be related to this. No, I have to call her out and ask,” Fatty said urgently.

“But you already tried, didn’t you? And you can’t deal with whoever’s in that stone coffin,” I reminded him.

Fatty shot me a strange look. “What else do you know? Tell me! I feel like I’m this close to the truth!”

“That’s all I have. Really. You were right—my brother hardly tells me anything,” I said.

Fatty began to fidget with impatience, scratching his head. I understood his frustration; his curiosity was insatiable. I often felt the same—an almost unbearable itch for the truth.

Seeing Fatty so anxious and helpless was like looking into a mirror. “Don’t overthink it. Some things can’t be rushed. Now, tell me: what was the connection you mentioned earlier?”

Fatty nodded, fixing his eyes on me. “Why does a man sleep with a woman?”

I was taken aback, unsure why he’d ask such a thing. I scratched my head. “For pleasure?”

Fatty smacked me across the head, cursing with a laugh, “You beast! Let me teach you something: at its core, mating is about the continuation of life. Pleasure is part of it, sure, but fundamentally, it’s about reproduction, about carrying on the line. In simple terms, to pass on one’s blood.”