Chapter 16: The Same Month, the Same Day

Just as I was about to act, a suction force emanated from the Nether Dragon’s Eye at my chest, pulling the cat’s ghost directly into it.

A wave of satisfaction washed over me, akin to a man who has long abstained suddenly indulging in a night of pleasure with a bevy of ravishing beauties. At the same time, a warm current flowed from the Nether Dragon’s Eye into my injured left forearm, driving out the sinister energy that had seeped into my bones and blood. The wound immediately began to scab.

But it didn’t stop there. From the Nether Dragon’s Eye, another thread appeared, stretching out in a certain direction.

“What kind of thread is this?” I muttered in surprise. It was neither the black thread of the netherworld nor the white thread of the living, but half black and half white. Was it karma of darkness or virtue, or perhaps a blend of both?

The satisfaction from absorbing the ghost lingered for a while, only fading away after a shudder, like a man regaining his composure.

Letting out a deep breath, I realized my entire body was drenched in cold sweat. In the low temperature of the morgue, the damp chill was bone-deep.

Today was truly the first time I had seen the ghost of a beast. Such spirits are rarer than those of humans—men possess intelligence and emotion, which give rise to obsessions, while beasts, though capable of feeling, are incomparable to humans, let alone capable of fixations.

Still, this was a bizarre affair. A cat’s specter had managed to possess a human fetus, attempting to return to the world of the living. If that child had been born, the family would have never known peace.

What puzzled me was whether the ghost fetus in the belly of that tragic woman was directly connected to the incident on the rooftop, and to whom the thread from the Nether Dragon’s Eye was tied—was it her family? Or the cat’s former owner?

Everything remained a mystery.

I stood up and left the morgue.

Old Li was still fast asleep, utterly unaware of what had transpired in the room.

The next morning, I arrived at the hospital on time for work.

No sooner had I changed into my white coat than I saw Wang Meiyu. She looked exhausted, yawning continuously as she walked.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?” I asked as I approached.

Wang Meiyu pointed to her dark circles, looking frustrated. “I had nightmares all night long. Even after a layer of concealer, you can still see these.”

“You must’ve been scared yesterday. Why not take another day off? You shouldn’t work today,” I said.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go make some coffee soon—I'll get you a cup, too,” she replied.

“Don’t push yourself,” I said, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat.

In the office, not long after, Wang Meiyu came in carrying two cups of coffee, a pink gift bag with a cartoon pattern hanging from her wrist.

“This is for you,” she said, placing the bag on my desk.

I was about to reach for it when she quickly stopped me. “Not now! Open it when no one’s around.”

There were still ten minutes until the shift change, and Wang Meiyu brought up how Fu Yiman had visited her house the previous day.

“My parents were overjoyed, you know. Every time Fu Yiman comes over, I feel like she’s their real daughter,” Wang Meiyu said.

“Did you two sleep together last night?” I asked.

“Yeah, but she left for her hometown in Xiushan early this morning. She said she’d be staying there for a while and wanted me to come with her, but I didn’t want to go. I went there once in elementary school—it was a traumatic experience for me,” she replied.

I was about to ask why when I was suddenly called to assist with an emergency case.

After a hectic day, I returned to the office and noticed the gift bag. I opened it to find a coffee-colored scarf, clearly hand-knitted, with red yarn embroidered at each end—one letter “Q” and one “W,” the initials of our surnames.

I smiled and wrapped the scarf around my neck. It was warm—so was my heart.

But the smile faded from my lips after a while. Wang Meiyu was a wonderful girl, and I did have feelings for her.

But I knew I’d been running away.

I am not a good man. She may warm my heart, but she cannot anchor it. Besides, I have no idea what the future holds for me. The dark world I’m entangled in is beyond her imagination. If she were to be with me, she’d inevitably be dragged into it—how could she possibly bear it?

Perhaps, giving her hope is actually harming her.

I found myself afraid—afraid to disappoint her, to delay her, to bring harm upon her.

Touching the scarf at my neck, I felt a wave of irritation.

I have countless tricks for flirting, but when it comes to truly loving someone, I realize I don’t know how.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Chi Yun.

“Well, well, Chief Chi, I’m honored to get a call from you,” I joked.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“At the hospital. I’m on the night shift tonight,” I replied.

“You’re working the day shift. Night shift is tomorrow,” she said.

“Didn’t know you cared so much about me, even memorized my schedule. Are you…” I teased, utterly at ease.

“Cut the crap. Get to Junyue 1808. Now,” she said coldly.

Junyue 1808?

I froze for a moment. Wasn’t that the hotel room where I first slept with Chi Yun? The presidential suite of Junyue, a five-star hotel—I remembered it well. She had taken me there herself.

Instinctively, I touched my waist. That woman was relentless; I could barely handle her. That night, it felt like she had conquered me.

But excitement stirred within me. After all, it had been over a month since I’d last had such an experience—tonight, I’d reclaim my pride.

I went to Junyue 1808 and knocked.

The door opened quickly. A slender, jade-like hand shot out, grabbing me by the collar and pulling me inside.

The lighting was dim and seductive, soft music playing, and there was Chi Yun, wearing nothing but a sheer nightgown. Her graceful figure was partly concealed, partly revealed—my nose nearly started bleeding at the sight.

Swallowing hard, I felt a fire burning in my lower abdomen.

Before I could even make a move, Chi Yun pounced on me, clinging like a koala.

She initiated the battle, but I wasn’t about to relent.

From the sofa to the floor, then the bed, even the bathroom—we fought until the world spun, evenly matched.

Not until dawn did we call a truce.

I pried Chi Yun, who was wrapped around me like an octopus, off my body. The moment my feet touched the floor, I nearly buckled.

What a demon! I muttered, rubbing my waist.

I picked up my clothes from the floor and fished out a half-empty pack of cigarettes, lighting one.

Chi Yun sat up and, taking out a lighter, helped me light up.

She was a completely different person from the one in uniform.

I exhaled a ring of smoke, arching an eyebrow at her. “I win this time.”

She smiled, taking the cigarette from my lips and drawing on it herself. “Yes, that’s why I didn’t throw you out.”

My sense of victory vanished. So she’s just treating me like a gigolo.

Then she put the cigarette back in my mouth, got up, pulled a file from her bag, and tossed it to me. “We’ve identified the nine corpses. Here’s the detailed information.”

“I’m allowed to look at this, right?” I asked.

“You’re my appointed medical consultant—I’ve already reported it. You’re officially part of the task force,” she replied.

I opened the file. The nine victims were of all ages and both genders, all missing in the past two years, living in Linjiang and neighboring cities.

The killer was utterly cruel. Each person had been drowned alive, and their bodies preserved in corpse wax, preventing decay. Yet, why weren’t their bodies bloated from water? Instead, beneath the thick wax, they looked like wax statues. The reason was unclear.

“See anything?” Chi Yun asked.

I shook my head. “From the data, these people have nothing obvious in common. But the killer is clearly selective. The key is to find what links them—why they were chosen.”

“How do you know they weren’t just random victims?” she pressed.

I gave her a look. “Everyone says you’re sharp, but you’re not even as sharp as the average person.”

She glared at me. “Of course I can see that. I wanted to know if you could.”

“Let’s put it this way. If the killer chose victims at random, why go across five cities over two years, only to gather all the bodies in the theater’s water tank? The criteria must be strict—these people share some rare characteristic,” I said.

Chi Yun looked at me, surprised. “You’re quite the analyst. Maybe you should join the bureau.”

“Oh? Planning to keep me as your pet?” I joked.

“Get lost.” She grabbed something from the table and threw it at me.

I caught it. It was an electronic desk calendar.

I set it aside, but a sudden thought struck me. I picked it up again.

“Have you checked their birth dates?” I asked.

“Of course, it’s all in the file,” she replied.

“No, I mean their lunar birthdays, not the ones on their IDs,” I said. The older generation often used lunar dates, while younger ones used the Gregorian calendar.

I pulled up the perpetual calendar on my phone and started converting the dates one by one.

After all nine were checked, my expression changed.

“Something wrong?” Chi Yun took the list of dates and gasped in surprise. Once converted, all nine had been born on the same lunar month and day: the twenty-ninth of the eleventh month.

“If I’m not mistaken, not only were they born on the same month and day, but likely at the same hour as well,” I said gravely.

“Then what’s the killer’s goal?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s definitely something supernatural. Not that you’d believe me,” I said.

“Of course I don’t. But I will catch the killer. Killing so many people for superstition—it’s utterly depraved,” she said fiercely.