Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
“Otherwise, we'll see you in court!”
“You won't get a penny, and your reputation will be ruined for life!”
I looked at my hacked-off hair in the mirror.
Bare patches showed through on top.
Hideous.
Thẩm Nghiêu didn't comfort me.
He joined in.
“Why did you have to do this?”
“If you'd given them the money earlier, none of it would have happened.”
“Good thing you hadn't donated everything. You might have had to pay Đỗ Ngọc Mai out of your own pocket.”
I silently studied his self-righteous face.
“How did she know the size of the estate?”
He froze.
His gaze slid away guiltily.
“I don't know.”
I pressed him.
“What share did she promise you?”
Unable to deny it, he lost his temper.
“If you weren't so determined to donate Kỷ Quy Hoằng's assets, would I have needed such a dirty trick?”
“You think seeing you like this doesn't hurt me?”
“Without me protecting you, you wouldn't just have lost a little hair.”
“They might have beaten you to death!”
I fought down my anger.
My hands trembled.
“Thẩm Nghiêu. I want a divorce.”
“Now you've got money, you're tired of me?”
“I understand. I won't stand in your way.”
He hesitated for only a few seconds, disregarding years of marriage.
Then said mockingly:
“Even if we divorce, half of Kỷ Quy Hoằng's estate is mine!”
My phone rang.
Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt.
I went into the bedroom to answer, anger and hurt tangled inside me.
Last time, she'd said Kỷ Quy Hoằng had masterminded the skinning.
But he'd died, and the affair had gone quiet.
I no longer trusted her completely.
“We've found the retriever.”
“Or, more accurately... we've found Kỷ Quy Hoằng.”
“I sent you a photograph. Look.”
A gloomy mountain village.
Thick white mist.
Three young men stood side by side on a bridge.
Their clothes belonged to the early years after Liberation.
Their poses looked old-fashioned.
The first man was a younger version of the retriever.
The second was Kỷ Quy Hoằng.
Exactly as I'd known him.
The third...
Was Thẩm Nghiêu.
“Finished being angry, Trác Văn?”
His voice sounded behind me.
Dark and cold.
Goosebumps covered my arms.
“That streamer again?”
He took my phone.
Something sly and unreadable lurked in his eyes.
I shook uncontrollably, fists clenched so tightly my knuckles whitened.
“Isn't this an AI composite?”
He covered the other two men.
“This is from our honeymoon. Don't you remember?”
“I told you to restrict access to your social feed. Otherwise, anyone can take your photos and misuse them.”
My fingers twisted the corner of my shirt.
I couldn't quite believe him.
“This photograph is over seventy years old.”
“You haven't aged.”
“Are you some kind of monster?”
He pulled my hand against his face.
“We've known each other for years. We've been married for years.”
“Don't you know me?”
“I have a medical checkup every year at work.”
“If something were wrong, wouldn't they have noticed?”
He had a point.
He wasn't a good man.
But calling him a monster was absurd.
My heartbeat gradually steadied.
“But that streamer doesn't have a grudge against you. Why fake a photo to deceive me?”
“You joined her stream when it happened.”
“She knows Kỷ Quy Hoằng left you an inheritance. She's greedy and wants a share.”
“You'd rather believe some ranting stranger than the husband who's beside you day and night?”
He hugged me.
Warmth passed through his clothes.
“I know you're upset about being bullied today.”
“Đỗ Ngọc Mai will do anything for money.”
“I'll find a chance to get revenge for you.”
I leaned into him, my voice thick.
“You're right.”
“I won't donate it.”
“We'll keep it for a house and children.”
He was delighted.
He stroked my head, unusually gentle.
“Don't contact that fraud again.”
Before I could answer, he deleted Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt's contact details.
I tacitly accepted.
But the moment he left for work, I took out my phone and found our honeymoon photograph.
At first glance, the images were identical.
But Thẩm Nghiêu was looking in a different direction.
It wasn't a composite.
Fear crept up my spine like ice.
My lips shook uncontrollably.
I called Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt immediately.
“Where did that photo come from?”
“No more stories.”
“If it's too far-fetched, I won't believe it.”
I'd memorized her number long ago, just in case.
“The photo?”
“Yes, I edited it.”
Her voice was lazy, as though she'd just woken.
Rage flared.
I nearly threw my phone.
“I deliberately made them think I had no real ability.”
“To avoid putting them on guard.”
She paused, then continued.
“I've found the missing retriever, Lý Cần.”
“He lives in a resettlement community thirty kilometers away.”
“Now he's a famous expert in making sure people have sons.”
The old village of Long Đường was due to be cleared for tourism development.
Residents were gradually moving to the new community.
Lý Cần was a renowned local healer.
His little clinic looked unremarkable. But after his therapeutic massage, apparently even a fly or mosquito would have to produce sons.
His wife had been a presenter on the local television station.
She'd come to interview him.
Afterward, she'd fallen in love and stayed at his house that very night.
He'd been over fifty.
She'd been in her twenties, from a good family, with a career just taking off.
Everyone thought they were mismatched.
But she'd insisted on marrying him, no matter what anyone said.
He'd declared that she loved his honesty, simplicity, and care for others.
Her mother had been so furious she'd fallen ill.
The families stopped seeing each other.
Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt and I went to his home.
His wife received us.
“That wig doesn't suit you. Makes you look washed out.”
She really was young and beautiful.
But in only a few years, life had worn a vibrant young woman into an ordinary village wife.
Apart from her polished broadcaster's voice, little of her former elegance remained.
Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt pretended to be a city reporter investigating local conditions.
Within half an hour, the woman praised Lý Cần more than ten times.
She kept saying it was a tremendous honor to build up the countryside with the man she loved.
She had no regrets.
As far as I knew, Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt was still a university student.
Watching her lie so smoothly made me doubt her again.
Noticing my stare, she quietly leaned closer.
“What she's saying isn't true.”
I frowned.
“But no one else is here. No one's forcing her.”
“Her words are like a preinstalled program. Give her the keyword, and she recites the answer.”
“Didn't you notice? I deliberately asked the same question three times. Her answer was identical. Word for word.”
“I admit that's strange. What does it have to do with us?”
I didn't understand why she'd insisted on bringing me.
“Have you forgotten what the older women's skin is used for?”
She tipped her chin toward Lý Cần's wife.
My head seemed to explode.
Flawless older skin.
Dried, powdered, combined with special ingredients, and made into pills.
Flick one onto someone, and their soul could be commanded.
“You mean... she's being controlled?”
Terror froze me stiff.
“A capable young woman from a wealthy family, barely in her twenties. A rural barefoot doctor over fifty. Do you really think that's love?”
Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt looked at me, then suddenly changed the subject.
“Did you see the straw figure in the backyard?”
It had struck me as odd from the start.
Scarecrows usually stood in fields.
Lý Cần's stood in his backyard.
It was smaller than usual, too.
Uncannily lifelike.
I looked over.
Something dark seemed to flash in its empty eye sockets.
Its dry straw arms swayed with a rustle.
“They weave those figures from a special herb.”
“They're used to dry older women's skin without letting it rot.”
My breath caught.
I nearly fainted.
Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt hurriedly pressed the point above my upper lip.
It took a long time to recover.
I sobbed, tears streaming.
“But she's been married to him for years. Mom only died recently...”
“The spell has a limited duration.”
“Each cycle lasts six years. His old supply may have run out. That's why he urgently needed a new source.”
“But Kỷ Quy Hoằng lured my mother into the trap!”
“He's dead. Could it be...”
“He was probably under Lý Cần's control.”
“Lý Cần used a handsome man to lure her back here...”
Just then, his wife brought fruit.
One glance showed her I was crying uncontrollably.
“What's wrong with her?”
“Nothing. A touch of heatstroke.”
Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt handed me a tissue and winked.
The woman looked outside.
It was only seventeen or eighteen degrees.
Dark clouds filled the sky.
“Oh. She must be very frail.”
As she finished, Lý Cần strode in.
“Dear, do we have visitors?”
I gripped my own arm hard.
That deeply lined face.
Those sinister eyes.
No mistake.
The retriever who'd vanished without a trace.
“I truly don't understand what you're talking about. We've never met. Older skin? A body retriever?”
He denied everything.
Blood rushed to my face.
“You recovered my mother's body! You came with us to obtain her death certificate! Plenty of people saw you by the river, and my husband met you. Will you face them?”
“Recover bodies?”
His wife twisted her clothes, eyes wavering.
“You've mistaken him for someone else. My husband can't swim.”
“We planted millet this year,” Lý Cần said. “Bad harvest. Leave a few measures drying outside, and sparrows eat it all. Is putting a scarecrow in my own yard a crime?”
He had an answer for everything.
“If you want witnesses, I'll go. Anywhere.”
He was too cunning.
Not a gap in his story.
Instead of helping me, Tần Nguyệt Nguyệt smoothed things over.
“She's been badly shaken. She's not very stable. Please don't take it to heart.”
I stormed out.
She immediately followed and caught my arm.
“Even if we can't deal with him ourselves, we can call the police!”
“We both know he's lying. Why go along with him?”
“Yes, we know. And yes, we can call them.”
“But where's the evidence?”
“What we need isn't with him. Without proof, we can do nothing.”
“He has backing. He isn't afraid of witnesses.”
“Because you won't establish anything.”
I fought to control myself.
“Why?”