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Xu Wenshan suddenly tore open the control panel's circuit board, revealing a blood-stained nail cover wedged between the copper wires. DNA comparison results indicated it belonged to a textile worker who went missing in 1996. As he picked up the nail cover with tweezers, an entire row of weaving machines abruptly halted, and forty-nine braids descended from the ceiling, their ends precisely tying into the runes on the operation table.
"The Three-Quarter Hour of the Dog has arrived." Zhou Huaisheng's voice crackled through the loudspeaker, accompanied by electronic static. "It's time to change the Rebirth Knot."
All coffin lids sprang open simultaneously, and the decaying corpses crawled toward the weaving machines with movements as synchronized as marionettes, their rotting fingers deftly replacing human hair threads.
Time-space spools.
Chen Yu discovered seven old projectors in the distribution room, and to his astonishment, the Kodak film contained surveillance footage from a textile factory in 1996. When the scene reached Li Xiuyun encountering a ghost during her night shift, Xu Wenshan abruptly pressed the pause button—reflected in the mirror was an old woman combing hair, her right hand adorned with Widow Lin's jade thimble, while in reality, Widow Lin was currently being interrogated at the funeral home.
"They are using the weaving machines to weave time and space," Xu Wenshan said, pulling out the Kodak film against the light. The perforations held strands of hair forming the Beidou constellation. "Each machine corresponds to a specific year, transmitting yin energy through human hair..."
His words were interrupted by a suddenly activated conveyor belt; a rolling spool crashed into a fire cabinet, and amidst the flowing foam floated several gray-white strands.
Chen Yu followed the trail of hair into a ventilation duct and found a hidden chamber behind a filter screen. Forty-nine glass jars soaked different eras of Yin Shu, each comb tooth woven with fibers from police uniforms. When he illuminated one of the jars with an ultraviolet lamp, hidden fluorescent numbers appeared—the label on the latest jar bore his badge number.
Bloodline Pursuit.
Xu Wenshan followed a sewing thread down to the fifth underground level, where a waterproof flashlight illuminated a circuit diagram made of human hair on the wall. As he touched a node marked "array eye," black blood suddenly seeped from the wall, and blood beads coalesced in mid-air into Widow Lin's face: "Mr. Xu, do you know that Yin Marriage requires sewing seven wedding gowns?" The blood face exploded suddenly, and forty-nine acupuncture needles pinned him against a transformer.
When Chen Yu burst through the door, the transformer had already overloaded and caught fire. Xu Wenshan tore away the sewing thread wrapped around his neck; at its end dangled Widow Lin's jade thimble, which rolled into a crevice in the floor.
The two pried open a hidden compartment along the crevice and discovered it contained a lipstick coffin; inside lay a female corpse dressed in a Republic of China wedding gown, her hands cradling a wooden shuttle engraved with "Bing Xu Year Zhou Lin Clan."
"This is the true Widow Lin." Xu Wenshan used tweezers to part the corpse's hairdo, revealing an electronic chip embedded in her scalp. "The Zhou family implanted her memories into every Yin Marriage bride..."
His words were cut off by an explosion as seven red coffins rose from beneath the ground. The moment their lids flew open, thirty-seven weaving machines simultaneously wove bloody police uniform fabric.
Chen Yu's sidearm was suddenly snatched away by an invisible force, hovering above the array eye. Zhou Huaisheng's hologram solidified at the center of the coffin formation; holding a Wenwan walnut that split in two, it revealed a beating fetal heart inside: "The Chen family must continue their lineage."
All weaving machines adjusted their steel shuttles' direction, aiming at Chen Yu's temple, poised to strike.
The alarm in the Constant Temperature Chamber of the Forensic Laboratory suddenly went off. Chen Yu, standing behind the bulletproof glass, watched as the Silk Cocoon expanded at a visibly alarming rate.
As the temperature dropped below minus twenty degrees, the surface of the cocoon cracked open, revealing bloodstains and the curled-up form of a fetus inside—what had been a palm-sized body just three days ago now bore the face of Chen Guohua.
"The telomere test results are in," said the Genetics Expert from the Provincial Department, adjusting his slipping glasses. "The telomere length of these Silk Cocoon cells is equivalent to that of a two-hundred-year-old person, but their telomerase activity is three times that of a newborn." He pointed at the wriggling Chromosomes displayed on the Microscope screen. "Each Hair is a miniature Cloning Factory, replicating the host's genes using hair as a template."
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