Chapter Twenty: The Informant

On New Year's Eve, several guests who had traveled from afar received lucky red envelopes. Everyone accepted them with laughter and delight—it was an unexpected joy.

When Qiu Xi awoke, he caught a faint, pleasant fragrance. Startled, he leapt up and realized at once that this must be Li Tian's room. Flustered, he hurried out the door. Thankfully, Li Tian was nowhere nearby to witness his embarrassment, and he felt a little more at ease.

By then, dusk had already fallen. Li Tian, coming to deliver hot water, saw him and laughed. “That yellow wine has a strong after-effect. You drank so much—I'm surprised you’re already awake!”

Qiu Xi scratched his head sheepishly. “It got dark all of a sudden. Sorry for the trouble…”

Li Tian smiled gently. “Don’t mention it.” She paused, then added, “You hold your liquor better than I expected. Our family’s wine has been aging almost ten years. Most people can’t wake up the next day after drinking just a little.”

She playfully gave a thumbs up and gestured toward Li Yiting’s room. “Look at them—all knocked out!”

Before her words faded, a low voice sounded from the side. “Who says so?”

They turned in surprise. Under the dim porch light stood a figure, leisurely smoking.

Chen Tianyu continued, “Hope I’m not interrupting your conversation?”

Li Tian pouted mischievously. “You already know the answer! Even a few jugs of wine wouldn’t satisfy you… All right, you two chat.” Carrying the water, she returned to the kitchen.

Qiu Xi let out a long sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he felt nothing for Li Tian, but they were still too unfamiliar.

Chen Tianyu didn’t mind cutting into their talk. He felt it necessary to have a candid conversation with Qiu Xi. In the whole of Luoshui Village, there was only one law enforcer at present.

In his mind, the village wasn’t just dealing with theft—there had been a death, and Yiting’s condition worried him. The more Yiting drank, the clearer he became, but once at home, he was truly drunk.

Thus, he had to stay clear-headed, and he badly needed a helper.

Qiu Xi had settled himself by now. He could tell the man before him had something on his mind.

“Uh…” He hesitated, unsure how to address him.

Chen Tianyu smiled. “My name’s Chen Tianyu. Everyone here calls me Fourth Brother.”

Qiu Xi nodded. “Hello, Fourth Brother.”

Chen Tianyu got straight to the point. “I used to be a detective. If you need any help, just ask.”

Qiu Xi was surprised. “Really? I had no idea… No wonder you all seemed different.”

“I switched careers years ago and am out of practice, but I can still help you analyze things.” Chen Tianyu downplayed his expertise.

“I’m just starting out—there’s a lot I don’t know. Coming to Luoshui Village is a chance for me to learn… Fourth Brother, I’ll be grateful for your guidance.” Qiu Xi was polite; this was clearly a senior.

Chen Tianyu asked pointedly, “You still have no real leads on the theft gang members, do you?”

Qiu Xi nodded. “There are a few main suspects, but there are too many people to narrow it down. Almost everyone in the village likes to gamble, and they all look suspicious…”

Chen Tianyu reminded him, “Have you considered that the theft itself may not be so hard to solve?”

Qiu Xi was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“If it’s just a theft, check the transport, trace subtle clues, look into the antique market—a big Buddha statue will always leave some trace… As for the gang, birds of a feather flock together. They’ll have to meet, and greed soon shows itself. When the loot is divided, anyone who suddenly comes into money will stand out.”

Qiu Xi suddenly understood. “You’re right. If I find the gambling den and poke around, everything will become clear.”

Chen Tianyu waved his hand. “What I’m worried about is that a much bigger plot is brewing in Luoshui Village. It’s not just about the theft.”

“What makes you say that?” Qiu Xi’s eyes widened in surprise.

Chen Tianyu replied, “Do you know the temple’s caretaker at Guanyin Temple is dead?”

Qiu Xi nodded. “Yes, I heard about it—rumors can be deadly. Li the temple keeper died depressed, or so his older brother told me… I’m half a local myself, so I know how poisonous gossip can be.”

“Li the caretaker actually took poison,” Chen Tianyu recounted the entire story to Qiu Xi. “From my analysis, he was murdered, and the method was highly professional.”

“If that’s so, maybe I should call my colleagues in the detective unit to investigate?” Qiu Xi’s expression grew grave; he too sensed things were getting complicated.

Chen Tianyu sighed. “It’s only a suspicion. Would the detectives come on that? Besides, Li has been buried—any evidence is long gone.”

Suddenly, Qiu Xi’s heart leapt. “Why didn’t you report this earlier?”

“That’s what puzzles me most,” Chen Tianyu explained. “The killer’s professional skill is beyond doubt, but what really interests me is how indifferent the villagers are to Li’s death.”

Qiu Xi understood. “You want me to investigate the background of Luoshui Village?”

Chen Tianyu’s gaze drifted into the distance.

“I have a hunch there’s a group in Luoshui Village getting restless. Those who show themselves are nothing to fear—it’s the ones lurking in the shadows that are dangerous. The case in Luoshui Village is far from over!”

His tone turned suddenly chilling, making the young Qiu Xi shiver involuntarily.

“If there’s truly another plot afoot…” Qiu Xi summoned his courage, “Will you help me?”

Chen Tianyu came back to himself, remembering the strange haunting on the day of the funeral—an event he still couldn’t fathom. He trusted Yiting’s judgment on death, but the haunting was something he had witnessed himself. There was no effect without a cause.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to help you get to the bottom of this… I’m a very curious person.”

Qiu Xi felt a rush of hot blood surge within him. The saying goes: “The newborn calf fears no tiger”—his fear had vanished.

“Fourth Brother, let me give you my phone number. If you need anything, just tell me,” Qiu Xi said resolutely.

They exchanged a few more words and then parted ways. Qiu Xi had to return to Tai Village—it was getting late, and tomorrow was the first day of the new year.

Some traditions must still be observed.

Chen Tianyu watched Qiu Xi’s departing figure, lost in thought. It was as if he saw himself as a young man, stumbling by chance into the world of criminal investigation.

Hadn’t it all been ignorance, fearlessness, and youthful passion, stumbling and fumbling along? How much professional knowledge had he really possessed when he started? How many cases had been solved by luck? How many were cracked by courage alone? How many truths still awaited the curious?

Qiu Xi, with his seemingly lazy and calm demeanor, clearly harbored the small universe of youth within—he simply hadn’t yet found his moment to shine.

Chen Tianyu was willing to be his guide.

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On New Year’s Day, Luoshui Village was awash in festive joy. The farming villagers took up their hoes, made a circuit of their fields, then burned three sticks of incense, paying respect to their work and gratitude to the gods. The children, books in hand, read aloud, hoping knowledge would change their fates and quietly waited for their elders to return before setting their books aside.

Afterward, they would bathe, change into fresh clothes, and head together to the most sacred place—the Guanyin Temple—to pay their respects for the new year.

For most villagers, it didn’t matter whether the idol on the altar was old or new. After Luo Ming consecrated the new statue, with its red ribbons and golden glow, it became the same divine presence for their worship.

In the end, it was the fulfillment of spiritual need that mattered most.

The only flaw was the writing on the red ribbon. The characters were so crooked as to be unsightly. Luo Ming, looking at his own dog-scratch handwriting, felt some embarrassment. Fortunately, once the incense smoke began to curl in the central censer, all ugliness faded from sight.

Li Qihuai led his family, along with the Beiting group, in a grand procession to pay their respects. He knelt for a long while on the prayer cushion, his mind awash with thoughts. He couldn’t let go of his third brother’s death so quickly.

Though his third brother’s life had been full of setbacks and frustration, he was an honest man, and they’d shared a close bond. Now, seeing him pass so miserably, Li Qihuai’s eyes filled with tears, and he wiped them away discreetly as he rose.

Li Yiting, seeing his father so downcast, arranged for everyone to burn incense and kneel, then set off a modest string of firecrackers before ushering everyone home.

A son naturally felt his father’s grief.

Back home, their mother brought out the rock sugar water she had prepared earlier, sweet and refreshing. In Luoshui Village, it was customary for women not to enter the temple or ancestral hall on New Year’s Day, though it was allowed at other times.

Liu Zichen and Shen Mingyue followed local custom and did not go either, though Shen Mingyue felt somewhat uncomfortable. The patriarchal tradition was hard to swallow for someone from the Northeast.

She told herself to endure it.

At noon, they enjoyed another Luoshui Village specialty—rice cakes. Familiar to southerners, these were made by steaming and pounding glutinous rice until it was chewy, sometimes with freshly picked mugwort to tint the dough green and add fragrance. The flattened cakes were filled with diced winter bamboo shoots, pork, pickled mustard greens, tofu, and radish—some skilled families even made peculiar fillings like pork cracklings or purple cabbage. The finished product looked like an oversized, thick-skinned dumpling, irresistibly appetizing.

In some places, these rice cakes are called “gold-wrapped silver,” but it’s the same thing.

With the first bite, savory juices filled the mouth, the skin was soft and springy, and the filling offered a medley of crisp, tender, sour, fresh, and aromatic flavors—a rural delicacy rivaling any gourmet dish.

As everyone ate heartily, Fifth Uncle’s son, Li Fuyu, entered the house sullen-faced. They invited him to eat, but he shook his head and sat alone on the bench, smoking. As most were not familiar with him, they paid little attention. Even Li Qihuai, not fond of this spoiled, temperamental nephew, called him twice before giving up.

Li Yiting, his cousin, hurriedly finished his meal, took a glass of water, and walked over. Li Fuyu looked up at him, his voice hoarse. “Second Brother…”

“What’s wrong?” Li Yiting swallowed his last bite of rice cake, frowning.

“Uh…” Li Fuyu hesitated, stammering, “I’d like to speak to you alone…”

Li Yiting thought for a moment. “Wait outside while I wash my hands.”

“Okay.” Li Fuyu stood up and, without greeting anyone, went out to stand on the path in front of the door, lost in thought.

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It took Li Fuyu a long time to speak. “Brother, I didn’t expect you to come back…” He trailed off, unsure.

Li Yiting actually didn’t know this cousin well, only having heard he was a bit of a wastrel, even a black sheep.

He’d only come out of politeness, and now, rubbing his hands together, said, “If you’re in trouble, just tell me. Maybe I can help.”

The weather was still cold, though the sun was out, but the mountain wind was biting. Li Fuyu shivered uncontrollably.

Li Yiting found it odd—though Fuyu was a pale scholar, he shouldn’t be this frail.

After a long silence, Li Yiting couldn’t help but ask, “Do you actually have something to say?”

“Uh… yes.” Li Fuyu simply squatted down, hugging his arms, his lips trembling. “My father’s gone missing!”

Li Yiting frowned, annoyed. “He’s always going missing—what’s going on with your family?” He remembered Fuyu scouring the hills a few days earlier.

Li Fuyu smacked his lips and protested, “My father has a quick temper…”

Li Yiting sighed. “When did Fifth Uncle leave home?”

Li Fuyu hung his head. “It’s been a few days… Oh, since the day Third Uncle went into the mountains.”

Li Yiting recalled that day. He’d been part of the discussion to remake the Guanyin statue and knew the task had been entrusted to Fifth Uncle.

“The statue is finished—why hasn’t Fifth Uncle come home?” Li Yiting was puzzled.

Li Fuyu grew anxious. “Exactly, and nobody’s upset him lately. No matter how angry, he’s never missed New Year’s Eve. As far as I remember, even if he stayed away three hundred and sixty-four days, on New Year’s Eve he was always home…”

Li Yiting interrupted, “How can you be so sure?”

Li Fuyu replied, “I have a habit—every year I save my red envelopes and write the year and who gave them, except this year.”

“You’re still old enough to get lucky money?” Li Yiting was momentarily speechless.

Fuyu replied without shame, “My mother says if you’re not married, you’re still a child.”

“All right then.” Li Yiting gave up. “So your father didn’t come home last night, and you weren’t worried? Didn’t go looking?”

Li Fuyu sighed. “My mother said not to worry—he’d be back. Probably hiding out at some uncle’s place gambling, and if he lost, he’d come home… So I waited, but fell asleep. This morning, he still wasn’t back, so I went looking for him at the mountain workshop—nothing! I asked at all the usual places, and they said they hadn’t seen him in days…” He looked crestfallen. “I’ve been running all morning—my legs are about to give out.”

“I really had no choice but to come to you, Brother…” Fuyu blurted out his grievances and seemed relieved. He’d always looked up to Yiting, rarely daring to ask for help, but he knew his cousin was capable.

Li Yiting thought for a moment. “All right, eat something first. I’ll call some friends to help look for him. If he doesn’t come home on New Year’s Day, it could be dangerous in the mountains. Better to be safe than sorry—let’s find him first.”

“I… I can’t eat.” Li Fuyu suddenly grabbed Li Yiting’s arm. “Brother, there’s something else I want to tell you… Can you keep it a secret?”

Li Yiting stopped, puzzled. “Oh? What is it? Say whatever you want.”

Li Fuyu stood up, apparently having made up his mind. “Brother, you may not know this since you just returned. There’s that charlatan Xun—the fortune-teller at the east end of the village, Xun Yuanchun. He’s been coming to our house every few days, always acting mysterious. Every time he talks with my father, it’s behind closed doors, away from me and my mother. It’s strange.”

Li Yiting frowned. “When did this start?”

“About half a year ago. Ever since that old man started visiting, my father has been disappearing for days at a time, then coming back for no reason.” He paused. “It’s happened several times.”

Li Yiting was surprised. “That long? And your father’s never told you what he’s up to?”

Li Fuyu shook his head firmly. “Whenever my mother or I asked, he told us not to worry, that when things got better he’d tell us everything.”

Li Yiting mused, “So your father’s found a big business deal… How long does he usually stay away?”

“Uh…” Li Fuyu thought hard. “Sometimes three to five days, sometimes up to half a month.”

Li Yiting sighed. “You and your mother are really trusting. Aren’t you worried your father might break the law for money?”

Li Fuyu shook his head with conviction. “My father’s an honest man, always relying on his craft—he’d never break the law.”

“Let’s hope so.” Li Yiting patted Fuyu on the shoulder, his words carrying a deeper meaning. “And let’s hope you can inherit your father’s skills one day.”

Fuyu scratched his head awkwardly. “I’m really not cut out for it. My father’s told me that many times, and I’ve accepted it.”

Li Yiting nodded. “All right, let’s leave it to fate then.”