Chapter 4 : Chance Encounter on the Overpass
Chapter 4: Chance Encounter on the Overpass
Seeing Shen Qingzhou stop and examine the flyer carefully, Jiang Xinyue’s heart skipped a beat, and a flicker of hope ignited within her.
The reason for this reaction was simple—most passersby who took the flyer would either glance at it politely before tossing it away, or not even bother to look at it at all.
But someone like the man before her, who stopped to study it closely, was extremely rare. Logically speaking, there was a high chance he had seen her daughter somewhere.
Thinking of this, Jiang Xinyue forcibly suppressed her excitement and stepped forward, asking nervously, “Sir… have you seen the child on the flyer somewhere?”
As she spoke, she stared intently at him, terrified that he would shake his head.
Every disappointment felt like a blunt knife stabbing into her chest, shredding her heart into pieces, the pain reaching deep into her bones.
But this time, he did not shake his head—yet neither did he give her a definite answer. Instead, he raised his head and looked at her with a strange expression.
“You’re her mother?” Shen Qingzhou asked.
The woman before him was petite, with delicate features, but her expression was haggard. There was an indescribable exhaustion hidden in her eyes. She looked like a piece of porcelain that had been shattered and barely pieced back together, exuding a sense of fragility. She appeared to be around thirty years old.
“Yes, my child disappeared on this overpass—right here…” The woman pointed at the bridge surface, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Really? How were you so careless?”
“I just made a phone call, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone.”
As she spoke, her voice began to carry a faint sob.
“Have you seen her? If you’ve seen her, give me any clue. Once I find my daughter, I’ll give you one hundred thousand as a reward.” The woman looked at Shen Qingzhou with hopeful eyes.
“One hundred thousand?”
A trace of temptation flickered in Shen Qingzhou’s heart, but seeing her haggard appearance, he swallowed his words.
As long as she didn’t know what had happened to her daughter, there was still hope. But if she found out her daughter was already dead, she probably wouldn’t survive it.
So he said, “I’d very much like to earn that money, but unfortunately, I haven’t seen her.”
Shen Qingzhou stuffed the missing person notice back into her hand.
Then he turned and left without looking back.
Jiang Xinyue stared blankly at his retreating figure. A wave of overwhelming disappointment surged through her, turning her limbs cold. But soon, she felt a strange sense of acceptance—this was not the first time. She had grown used to disappointment after disappointment.
Yet her stomach began to rumble, and a sharp pain twisted through her abdomen. It wasn’t due to any illness, but rather the physical stress response caused by disappointment, anxiety, and fear.
This kind of condition couldn’t be cured—unless she either let go or found her daughter.
Leaning against the overpass railing, Jiang Xinyue stood there for a long time before the pain gradually subsided.
At the other end of the pedestrian overpass, Shen Qingzhou ultimately couldn’t resist turning back for a glance.
He saw the woman clutching the railing, looking as if she might collapse at any moment, while the hurried passersby paid her no attention, making her seem even more lonely and desolate.
“Damn it…” Shen Qingzhou cursed under his breath.
“If you’re still here when I come back tonight, then it means we’re fated. I’ll help you…” he murmured softly.
“I’m just too kind… sigh… no way to make money like this.”
Shen Qingzhou hurried down the stairs.
The alley called Yihong Lane was dim in the evening. Trash littered both sides of the road, and even from the entrance, one could smell the stench of garbage piled at the far end.
The alley was lined with low, old houses, their age unknown.
Few people passed through here. The throat-slitting case of the female college student had happened right here.
The reason the student had passed through this place was because about two kilometers from one end of the alley was Huinan City’s Normal College, where the victim had been studying.
The other end led to the well-known Riverside Park of Huinan City.
To take a shortcut, students often used this alley to travel between the school and the park.
The reason Shen Qingzhou came here was simple—after dying unjustly, a person would most often linger in two places: the site of their death, or their home.
Remaining at the scene was because those who died unjustly, bound by unfinished wishes or lingering hatred, would be trapped there—what people called a bound spirit.
Returning home was even more natural. A home was not only a residence for the body, but also a harbor for the soul.
So after death, people instinctively returned home first.
Shen Qingzhou walked from one end of the alley to the other but found no trace of the female student’s ghost. It seemed she had not become a bound spirit.
That meant she had likely returned home.
This made things troublesome. The student was not from Huinan City, so finding her would likely require traveling to another province.
Shen Qingzhou had no intention of going that far. He took out a cigarette and lit it, then somehow produced three incense sticks, lit them, and inserted them into a crack by the roadside.
Muttering under his breath, he said, “Incense as the guide, answer all calls…”
This time, the rising smoke was different from before. Like a spiritual serpent, it coiled in the air, then suddenly shot into the void, weaving a long, unbroken path of smoke before vanishing into emptiness.
In the blink of an eye, the faint figure of an old woman emerged from the drifting smoke.
The old woman wore very old-fashioned clothing—a plain, slanted-button blouse on top, loose black trousers below, and a pair of faded black canvas shoes.
She had likely been dead for a long time. Her soul was extremely unstable, as if a gust of wind could scatter her at any moment.
She sized up Shen Qingzhou and showed a hint of surprise. “So, a practitioner with real cultivation—and so young. How rare.”
“Oh? Granny, you’ve seen other practitioners before?” Shen Qingzhou became interested.
The old woman nodded. “When I was young, I saw some. Whether they had real ability, I don’t know. But after liberation, who would dare practice such things…”
Shen Qingzhou didn’t dwell on that and continued, “Granny, I summoned you to ask about something.”
“What is it?” The old woman smiled kindly.
“There was a murder here last month. Do you know about it?”
After speaking, Shen Qingzhou stared at her intently.
“Of course I know. Many police came that day,” she replied.
“Then did you see the killer? Do you know what he looked like?” Shen Qingzhou pressed further.
“I saw him. The killer was very fierce—he slit that girl’s throat with one knife. I was so scared I froze in place, didn’t dare move, even forgot I was a ghost…” the old woman rambled on endlessly.
But Shen Qingzhou simply looked at her coldly, not interrupting, just watching.
Until the old woman grew uneasy, her voice becoming softer and softer until it faded into silence.
Only then did Shen Qingzhou scold, “Full of lies.”
“No, no, what I said is true!” the old woman hurriedly argued.
“Tell the truth. Since you know I’m a practitioner, you should also know I have plenty of ways to deal with you,” Shen Qingzhou said calmly.
Hearing this, the old woman stared at him blankly for a long while before slowly shaking her head.