Immortality begins in Goose City

Chapter 46 Site Investigation

The actors around him gasped in shock when they saw the handprint on his neck, and they all backed away, their eyes filled with fear as they looked at him.

The troupe leader took a closer look at the handprint, and his face turned extremely ugly, as black as the bottom of a pot.

"This..." He gasped, speechless.

Huang Shujian stepped forward and examined the handprint carefully.

It was jet black with a bluish-purple tinge, and the edges were somewhat blurry, so it didn't look like it was shaped by human hands.

A faint, extremely cold aura lingered on it.

"It was the vengeful spirit of Lan Xiaodie who, using the prelude of 'The Tale of the Black Basin,' insisted on seeking justice for herself. She sealed his throat, preventing him from speaking."

Upon hearing this, the young actor almost burst into tears, nodding repeatedly: "Yes, yes, yes! That's exactly the feeling! Cold... stiff... unable to move at all!"

The troupe leader sighed and waved for the actor to go and rest.

He watched the actor's departing figure, then looked at the backstage area that exuded a sense of antiquity, and a deep sense of helplessness and sorrow appeared on his face.

"Xiao Die... she really died unjustly." The troupe leader's voice was low.

"Such a promising talent, with a first-rate voice and stage presence, on the verge of becoming a superstar... but then..."

"I reported it to the authorities the day after the incident."

"The county magistrate... did send two people over."

"But those two just walked around the garden, asked a few trivial questions, made a few notes, and left. We haven't heard from them since."

"In this world, the death of an actor... in their eyes, is probably no different than the death of an ant."

His face was full of bitterness: "Now look what's happened, Xiaodie has 'come back to life' and wants to seek justice."

"She still thinks I'm some upright old man... If she comes back in a month, what will I say to her?"

"If I can't give it to her, she'll realize she's been scammed..."

The troupe leader shuddered and didn't dare to continue.

Huang Shujian looked at him and suddenly asked, "Master, Lan Xiaodie personally identified me as the murderer. You...don't you suspect me?"

Upon hearing this, the troupe leader paused for a moment, then shook his head vigorously.

"Absolutely impossible!" he said firmly. "Young Master Huang, I've spent most of my life on the stage. I can't speak for other things, but I do have some insight into people and situations."

He lowered his voice, his expression grave: "I've seen Xiaodie's body."

"The skin... was peeled off extremely cleanly, from head to toe, it was almost a complete human skin pouch, with smooth cuts and no unnecessary damage."

"This is definitely not something a spur-of-the-moment decision or something an amateur could do!"

He glanced at Huang Shujian and continued, "This requires extremely skilled techniques, and may even be... a specialized profession, or even sorcery."

"Young Master Huang, you... are not that kind of person."

Huang Shujian nodded.

The troupe leader's words make sense and are consistent with his judgment.

Skinning is a delicate and cruel task that requires a professional background to perform.

"I'm somewhat interested in this case," Huang Shujian said. "If the troupe leader doesn't mind, let me see Lan Xiaodie's former residence and the place where she was murdered."

Upon hearing this, the troupe leader was first taken aback, then overjoyed!

"Not at all! Not at all! It's Xiaodie's good fortune and a great blessing for our Xingli Garden that Young Master Huang is willing to get involved!"

The troupe leader was so excited he almost bowed again: "Young Master, please! This way! Xiaodie's room has been sealed off; no one dares to touch it, and no one dares to stay there!"

Deep backstage at Xingli Garden, through a narrow corridor, you arrive at a relatively secluded room.

This was originally a private residence prepared for the leading man, and it had the best conditions.

Now, the door is tightly closed and sealed with tape. A faint, almost imperceptible, fishy, ​​and putrid smell wafts out from the crack in the door, and even after all these days, it has not dissipated.

The troupe leader tore off the seal and pushed open the door.

A stronger, mixed smell wafted over—the lingering stench of blood, the smell of dust, and the stale, cloying scent of a woman's cosmetics.

The room wasn't large, but it was decorated quite elegantly.

On the dressing table, rouge, face powder, eyebrow pencils, and oil were still scattered haphazardly, as if the owner had only temporarily left.

The bedding on the bed was neatly folded, and several theatrical costumes hung on the wall.

However, on the ground, near the center of the room, there was a large patch of dark, dried, blackened blood that had soaked through the floor.

Above the bloodstains, on the roof beams, faint traces of rope friction can still be seen.

This is where Lan Xiaodie's body was found—headless, skinned, and hanging from a beam.

The troupe leader pointed to the bloodstains and the roof beam, his voice trembling slightly: "That day... it was Xiaodie's turn to go on stage, but I never saw her go backstage."

"I sent someone to call for help, and when I opened the door... I saw... her headless, her body covered in blood, hanging from the roof beam..."

He didn't say anything more, his face turned pale.

Huang Shujian covered his nose and went into the room.

The dressing table, bed, wardrobe, and furnishings were all normal, with no signs of a struggle.

His gaze finally settled on the tightly closed wooden lattice window on the back wall of the room.

According to Lan Xiaodie's account, the murderer knocked on the window from outside, and she was killed after opening the window.

Huang Shujian walked to the window and carefully pushed it open.

A soft "creak" sounded.

Outside the window is a small, somewhat abandoned back garden.

A few half-withered rose bushes, a dried-up small fishpond, and the ground paved with blue bricks covered with moss.

This place is very secluded, and few people come here usually.

Huang Shujian leaned out and carefully examined the windowsill; the wooden windowsill edges were covered in dust.

His gaze suddenly fixed on a corner outside the window.

There seems to be something stuck there.

He reached out and carefully picked it up with his fingernails.

It was a hair.

It is about an inch long and dark brown.

It is extremely rough and hard, with a feel like steel needles, and is very elastic.

Huang Shujian frowned.

Whose hair is this?

He flipped over and jumped out of the window, landing on the blue brick ground in the back garden.

Xiuer and Zhao Ming watched nervously from the window, and the troupe leader also came over.

Huang Shujian crouched down and carefully examined the ground under the window.

A thin layer of dust and moss had accumulated on the blue bricks.

A few withered leaves were scattered around.

His gaze quickly settled on the area beneath several overlapping dead leaves.

There were two blurry but still recognizable... footprints.

The footprint was large, a size wider than the average person's foot.

The deep imprints indicate that the person who left the footprints was heavy or used a lot of force.

The strangest thing is...

These footprints have no pattern on the soles of the shoes.

The marks are from bare feet!

The outlines of the five toes were clearly visible, and... the imprints of these five toes were almost identical in thickness and length, unlike normal people who have a prominent big toe.

"This person's feet... are huge."

Xiuer, who was peering out the window, couldn't help but whisper, she had also noticed something was wrong.

"And their toes... how come they all look the same?"

Huang Shujian squatted beside the footprints, his brows furrowed.

The killer imitated himself, wearing a shirt and suit, but without shoes? Barefoot?

Why?