Cao Shi's chosen spot was a Beijing specialty: a copper hot pot. With the weather cooling, a table at such a place would normally require a long wait. However, this particular establishment stayed open late, allowing for a second wave of diners after the main rush.
Wang Zeyì followed Cao Shi into the restaurant, a wave of heat greeting them. They found a table and sat down. Wang Zeyì took off his cotton-padded jacket and handed the menu to Cao Shi. Without even looking, Cao Shi told the waiter, "One plate of 'Half-Cloud,' two plates of lamb, tripe, a vegetable platter, and a bottle of Erguotou!"
The hallmark of a copper hot pot was the "Half-Cloud" cut, half fatty, half lean, clearly distinct...
"How about all Half-Cloud?"
In Wang Zeyì's mind, Cao Shi was unlike the proud Li Jiu; he felt a special closeness. For some reason, Wang Zeyì preferred dealing with people like Cao Shi.
"Mix and match, otherwise fifty yuan won't be enough."
"I'll add some more."
Cao Shi chuckled and called the waiter to add two more plates of Half-Cloud, without mentioning the two plates of lean meat they were supposed to return.
"Can we add more meat if we run out?"
Wang Zeyì pouted. He wasn't a stingy person, but Cao Shi's remark made him hesitate. Lamb for copper hot pot was always hand-sliced, famously good value for money. In a courtyard house, a family might share five plates of lamb. With tripe, vegetables, and noodles, that would be enough. And for the two of them, they wanted to add more meat?
The charcoal was lit, and soon the clear broth of the pot began to bubble. As the lamb was dipped into the boiling water, an intoxicating aroma filled the air. Even though Wang Zeyì had already eaten, his appetite returned. Wang Zeyì had met Teacher Wende and knew him to be a man of strict principles. But seeing Cao Shi, with so few rules, he decided to go with the flow. He poured Cao Shi a cup of white wine and took a sip himself. The fiery liquid traced a direct path into his stomach, warming him from the inside out.
"Who did you hear all these strange stories from?"
"Chen the Blind fortune-teller from Tianqiao. His place has been packed lately. Everyone asking about their future, their marriages."
"Why?"
"A few days ago, he predicted that the hanged ghost at the Xizhimen haunted house was looking for a replacement. Recently, he said Ren Sanjie is in her birth year and buying a cursed item, which is extremely inauspicious."
Wang Zeyì frowned. He didn't believe in ghosts or gods. If Chen the Blind had predicted it, then perhaps this murder case was connected to him.
"Should I call him over to the station for questioning?"
Cao Shi burst into laughter. "Our People's Police serve the people. Why bother with a blind man?"
"But he..."
"He predicted it? Come on, man. If he had that kind of ability, he wouldn't be selling trinkets when business was slow. If you don't believe me, just shout 'City management is here!' and he'll run faster than a rat."
...
Wang Zeyì drank his wine, watching Cao Shi devour the meat. Cao Shi scooped up generous portions with his chopsticks, the finest sesame sauce dipping plate already nearly empty. Wang Zeyì, who had been troubled earlier, felt his spirits lift. This plump fellow was clearly in control of the situation.
"We don't have to arrest him, but you have to tell me what's really going on. Otherwise, I'll add more lamb for you."
Wang Zeyì could tell that those five plates of lamb might not be enough.
"The Criminal Investigation Brigade only makes eight hundred yuan a month. My meal costs you over a hundred. How can you support your family? We won't do anything dishonest. I'll tell you, this Chen the Blind isn't much. He gets all his stories from magazines."
"Isn't he blind?"
"He's blind when he's telling fortunes. When he's not busy, he takes off his dark glasses. Because he's been dabbling in selling small items, Chen the Blind finds inspiration in 'Forbidden City' magazine. This magazine mainly talks about Ming and Qing dynasty collections and artifacts. Sometimes, it also features folk tales. Recently, there was a story called 'The Lost Ivory Stand'."
Wang Zeyì listened, utterly confused. 'What is an ivory stand?'
"In the Ming and Qing dynasties, writing brushes, inkstones, and paper were placed with great care. Some utensils required stands. These stands were made of different materials: jade, stone, ivory, wood. 'The Lost Ivory Stand' tells the story of an inkstone screen stand made of ivory, with dyed carving and cloud and bat patterns. Legend has it that this item was auctioned by a Japanese man in 1921, originating from a prince's mansion in the Forbidden City. Regardless, this ivory stand is very valuable. However, the article says it possesses an extremely strong curse, and anyone who obtains it is doomed."
"And then?" Wang Zeyì became interested.
"The power of the ivory stand can help vengeful ghosts find replacements. That's what came from Chen the Blind."
"Isn't that nonsense?"
"What folk tale isn't nonsense? Do you think the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl is real?"
"That's true."
"Speaking of vengeful ghosts, the author specifically mentions famous haunted places in Beijing. The Western-style house in Xizhimen in the late Qing Dynasty, the coffin ground in Dongzhimen, the Dragon-locking Well in Beixinmen, the disappearing Bus Route 375 from Fragrant Hills to the Old Summer Palace. And the invisible executioner at Caishikou!"
Wang Zeyì took another sip of wine, his face flushed. He felt a sense of dawning comprehension. He poured more wine for Cao Shi. "All these you mentioned are old legends, nothing much. And there's one thing wrong: that haunted Western-style house isn't in Xizhimen, it's on Chaoyang Street, at 81 Chaonei."
Cao Shi also laughed. "You know that much. When I first read it, I thought he made a mistake too. Later, I asked my master and found out that there was a row of Western-style houses in Xizhimen that were later demolished and replaced with civilian housing. One of them, number 18, was as evil as 81 Chaonei; one resident died, then another pair died. Even after it was rebuilt as a low-rise building, the curse remained."
Hearing Cao Shi say this, Wang Zeyì's eyes widened. "The haunted house in Xizhimen?"
"Yes!"
"Ren Sanjie lives in Dongzhimen."
"Yes, there was nothing there before in Dongzhimen. Her courtyard house was only built after the 1980s. Rumor has it it was built on the grave of a prince."
"Don't say that prince was the one who gave the ivory stand to the Japanese."
"Who knows? Stories need boundless imagination. The 'Forbidden City' magazine opened a folk tale section precisely to make Beijing's affairs seem mysterious, doesn't it?"
Wang Zeyì held his wine glass, deep in thought, pondering what Cao Shi had said. Chen the Blind was an old Beijing resident and knew the places mentioned in these folk tales. Perhaps Miss Bai's death was just Chen the Blind speaking nonsense. When news of Miss Bai's death spread, Chen the Blind grew bolder and started predicting Ren Sanjie's death. If Cao Shi's theory was correct, more people would die.
"Will more people die?"
"Yes!"
"Who did Chen the Blind predict?"
"Zhang Ping!"
Wang Zeyì pictured the man with high cheekbones and yellow hair. Even now, thinking of him gave him goosebumps.
"Why him?"
"In 'Dream of the Red Chamber,' Jin Ge had a betrothal to the son of a guard. Later, it was broken off by Jin Ge's parents. Jin Ge, with her fiery temper, hanged herself with a rope, and the guard's son also drowned himself. If Ren Sanjie died because of Jin Ge's silver hairpin, then the next to die must be Zhang Ping. I heard Ren Sanjie didn't used to like women. Her greatest love was Zhang Ping, who was five years her junior. However, because Zhang Ping was too young, Ren Sanjie's parents disagreed and married her off to a man who worked in a textile factory. Ren Sanjie, with her fiery temper, eloped with Zhang Ping. But Zhang Ping was only with Ren Sanjie to trick her out of her money. Ren Sanjie had no money when she left home, and soon she found out Zhang Ping's true identity. He was an actor who had become a petty cheat at eighteen or nineteen. Ren Sanjie was heartbroken and lost all interest in men."
Wang Zeyì listened, dumbfounded. He looked at his wine glass, thinking, 'I've only had one glass of wine, it can't be that much. What is all this I'm hearing?'
"Weren't Jin Ge and the guard's son's love as strong as gold?"
"That's where the mastermind's plan is a bit clumsy. They're forcing the analogy. However, the effect has been achieved. If Zhang Ping also dies, Chen the Blind can earn another five hundred yuan, and his business will be good in the future."
"Do we really not need to ask Chen the Blind?"
"No need. He's just repeating what he heard, fumbling in the dark. Besides, he got Ren Sanjie's age wrong. Ren Sanjie is 41. Zhang Ping is the one in his birth year, five years younger than Miss Ren."
Wang Zeyì sighed repeatedly. "Why don't we protect Zhang Ping?"
"How? With what reason? The story of 'Dream of the Red Chamber,' or the story of the ivory stand? I just spoke to Zhang Ping. What's interesting is that Zhang Ping returned the fifty yuan to me, asking me to find him five hundred."
"Why?"
"He knows who sold the silver hairpin to Ren Sanjie."
"He's crazy, risking his life."
"People who want money usually don't value their lives."
"Is five hundred yuan worth it?"
"Five hundred yuan certainly can't buy a life. Zhang Ping isn't stupid. He knows I won't trade with him, so he'll trade with the person who sold the silver hairpin to Ren Sanjie. If you follow him, you can find that person."
"Is that person the murderer?"
"Not necessarily. Perhaps it's the person who possesses the ivory stand."
Wang Zeyì had never cracked a case like this before; he was utterly exhilarated. "Aren't you coming with me?"
"My master has a rule: no matter where I go to find my meals, I must be home before midnight."
"You're over thirty, aren't you? And you still have this rule."
"Master said I have a calamity in my destiny. If he dies before me, I will overcome this calamity. So, our family has this strange rule: I must be home before twelve. I don't want to follow this rule, but my master's words are like opening the eyes of heaven. Until I understand, I should still obey."
"It's almost time!"
"I'll finish this plate of lamb and cycle back through the small alley from Tianqiao. I'll be home just as the clock strikes twelve."
Wang Zeyì curled his lip. 'Your master is probably afraid you'll eat yourself to death, from morning till midnight.' After Cao Shi left, Wang Zeyì paid the bill and departed. He went back to Zhang Ping's doorway. The red light was still on. Wang Zeyì tightened his cotton-padded jacket and waited for a while. Sure enough, Zhang Ping, taking advantage of the quiet late night, came out alone. It wasn't that cold, but Zhang Ping was bundled up tightly.
Wang Zeyì had received systematic training in tailing people and wasn't discovered by Zhang Ping. He followed him all the way to the textile factory.
'Why would he come here? Wang Zeyì had been here before. This was Miss Bai's workplace.
Zhang Ping knocked on the large iron gate. Someone opened the door. Wang Zeyì couldn't see clearly, but he was sure it wasn't the night watchman. He looked at the courtyard wall, preparing to sneak in. At that moment, someone covered Wang Zeyì's mouth from behind. Wang Zeyì struggled a few times, rolled his eyes, and fainted.