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墨書 Inktalez
The raindrops suddenly exploded against the Umbrella Canopy. As Xu Wenshan turned, he caught a glimpse of a half-open carved window on the second floor of the teahouse across the street, with strands of Gray-White Hair hanging down from the crack.
By the time he dashed across the road, the wooden window slammed shut with a bang, and the copper bell at the eaves rang out a chilling sound.
Qinghe Teahouse.
On the Eight Immortals Table, Bi Luo Chun tea floated with a layer of white down. Xu Wenshan used his cup lid to push aside the tea leaves, his peripheral vision sweeping towards the staircase.
The Old Shopkeeper, dressed in a traditional gown, was replenishing incense at the shrine. On the offering table, besides the Guanyu Statue, there was also a Carved Wooden Comb wrapped in red thread.
"Do you sell Yin Shu here too?" Xu Wenshan asked casually.
The Old Shopkeeper's copper incense burner clanged against the table edge. "Young man, you mustn't speak carelessly; this is a town treasure!"
He rubbed his bony fingers over the Comb Teeth. "After that great fire in '96, we could hear combing sounds every night in the teahouse. We had to procure forty-nine Yin Shu to suppress it..."
A thunderclap roared outside, and lightning illuminated the corner of the staircase for an instant. Xu Wenshan distinctly saw an Old Woman's figure flash by; her Huang Mu Zhu hair brushed against the wooden railing, sounding like shattered jade.
By the time he reached the second floor, black water was slowly seeping out from under the door of a private room at the end of the corridor, a stench mingling with that of decaying wood hitting him in the face.
Zhou Ji Antique Shop. Xu Wenshan shook off rainwater from his Umbrella Canopy as he entered; suddenly, a Tang Sancai horse in a glass cabinet turned its head to look at him.
The owner, dressed in a Zhongshan suit, emerged from behind an Antique Shelf, holding a Wenwan Walnut in his left hand and wearing a Jade Ring on his right ring finger.
"Mr. Xu, you must be here for the Jianghuai Funeral Study," Zhou Huaisheng said with a grin that revealed his stained teeth. "The most unique thing about Qinghe Town isn't its coffins; it's the custom of Yin Shu for soul nurturing."
He opened a zitan wood box, revealing forty-nine Carved Wooden Combs arranged like an array. "Look at this arc of the Comb Teeth; it aligns perfectly with the direction of Beidou's seven stars..."
Xu Wenshan examined it closely with a Magnifying Glass; the spacing of the Comb Teeth matched exactly what was recorded in his Criminal Investigation files. He suddenly looked up. "How does Boss Zhou know I'm writing about funerary studies?"
As lightning flashed outside, Zhou Huaisheng's shadow grew large on the wall, taking on the outline of a Hair Combing Old Woman. "The moment you entered town, all forty-nine Yin Shu trembled together; this hasn't happened in twenty years."
Zhenxi Archive.
Mold spots on an archive bag formed ghostly patterns. Xu Wenshan, wearing white gloves, brushed his fingertips over the seal marked "1996 Serial Murder Case."
Suddenly, a photograph slipped out; on it lay a charred Coffin Board with a blood-painted Rebirth Knot—identical to what he had seen that morning at the teahouse: the Yin Combing Pattern.
"This case remains unresolved." The archivist's voice broke through suddenly, startling swallows from their perch above. "Back then, the special investigation team sealed away forty-nine evidence boxes, and as it turned out..."
He peeled back a calendar on the wall to reveal symbols of a Comb drawn in blood behind it. "Every time one box is opened, someone dies."
Raindrops hammered against the metal roof like drums. Xu Wenshan flipped through crime scene photos when suddenly Li Xiuyun's Braids began to writhe on paper.
He slammed shut the dossier and noticed that his cuff had caught some Sophora Tree bark; inside its layer was embroidered with hair: "Bingzi Year, Twelfth Month, Seventh Day"—the date of the first case from twenty years ago.
At the inn for the night, the bedside lamp flickered intermittently due to a poor connection. Xu Wenshan spread out the wooden comb imprints across the bed sheets. Under the Magnifying Glass, the wear marks on the Comb Teeth revealed that these Yin Shus had been used at least ten thousand times.
He pulled out the Gray-White Strands he had found in the teahouse and held them up to the light—embedded in the marrow were a few grains of Zhusha, exactly as recorded in the Criminal Investigation Report.
Suddenly, a rustling sound echoed from the corridor, resembling a comb scraping against a door panel. Xu Wenshan leaned closer to the peephole and saw a dark figure hanging from the doorknob of the opposite room.
As he gently turned the door lock, that shadow swiftly darted into the ceiling vent, dropping a few bloodied Sophora Tree skins in its wake.
At that moment, his phone vibrated. A notification from a forum indicated someone had replied to his post from earlier that day: "The Yin Comb of the Green River must be dipped in fresh blood to be activated; forty-nine combs arranged together can extend life by twelve years..." The sender's ID was Yin Niangzi, with an IP address traced back to the Zhenxi Mass Grave.
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