Chapter 151: Another Victim

The officer recording the scene was a veteran cop. Seeing that I wasn’t a monk and was speaking nonsense, he grew somewhat displeased. “What nonsense are you spouting? I think the skin tone matches that of a human hand. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

I quickly explained, “I’m a devout Buddhist and have coincidentally encountered some murder cases before. Look, there’s a missing page in this Buddhist scripture. The hair on the arm is also off—someone who’s been vegetarian for years wouldn’t have hair like this. The texture has undergone some minor changes. So I’m certain this definitely isn’t Master Donggua.”

The old cop, seeing I made some sense, crouched down to inspect the arm. “My name is Yun Chaohai. I’m a veteran investigator.” After examining it for a while, he asked, “What kind of weapon cut this arm off?”

“There’s a pool of blood next to the arm. It looks like it was severed with a sharp blade in one swift motion. If it was a sharp blade, there should be splattered blood everywhere. But in this meditation room, aside from the blood near the severed hand, everywhere else is spotless. So, one possibility is that Master Donggua was kidnapped, and this fake death scene was left behind to mislead us.” I laid out my reasoning.

Yun Chaohai nodded. “You make a good point. We’ll see if the DNA comparison supports your analysis.”

The other officers collected the hair into evidence bags, took fingerprints from various spots, then packed the severed hand into a box. The *Śūraṅgama Sūtra* was also placed into an evidence bag—the missing page was page seventy-seven.

However, there was another intriguing piece of news: a monk in the living quarters claimed to have seen a bewitching woman. Her shadow flickered past and vanished quickly, like a snake spirit.

The long-browed monk immediately bellowed, “Nonsense!”

The long-browed monk was undoubtedly trying to protect the temple’s reputation. If that snake spirit woman really did appear—back when I mistook her for a fallen woman—I must have severely underestimated her.

Yun Chaohai, of course, didn’t want to overlook any lead. But the young monk who reported this was vague, speaking as if he wasn’t sure—just a fleeting shadow, then gone. Yun Chaohai eventually slammed his notebook shut, unwilling to listen further. He probably thought the young monk was just imagining women at night. The priority now was to find Master Donggua—alive or dead.

Later, the long-browed monk suggested, “My senior brother used to enjoy posting on Weibo while reading. Whenever he came across something profound, he’d share it. Recently, he got a new iPhone and liked going online to counsel troubled youths. Maybe we could check his Weibo.”

I quickly logged onto Weibo and searched for Master Donggua. He had a sizable following, with many comments.

His latest post, from 8 p.m., read:

“The *Heart Sutra* says, ‘Be free from inverted views and dreams, and one shall be without troubles.’ But how many in this world can achieve that? The temptations of life are too many, and so are its troubles, bringing endless distress. Only in the embrace of the Buddha can all worries be dispelled. Guard your heart well—do not let inner demons take hold.”

I asked, “Did Master Donggua ever mention having any troubles?”

The long-browed monk declared solemnly, “My senior brother is full of compassion but harbors no troubles himself. What troubles could he possibly have?”

Finally, the monk pulled out his Nokia phone and dialed Master Donggua’s number. When Yun Chaohai put it on speaker, we heard the *Great Compassion Mantra* ringtone—beeping continuously, but no one answered.

Nor was the call directly rejected.

Yun Chaohai speculated that the phone might have been dropped somewhere and couldn’t be found. So, he ordered a search, turning the entire Famen Temple upside down. The night grew colder, and with time passing, the phone’s battery would soon die.

The officers, visibly annoyed, wrapped themselves in coats and stomped off to search.

As if heaven itself was against us, Master Donggua’s phone was white—and now, snow was falling.

“If only senior brother had bought a knockoff phone—the battery would’ve lasted longer,” the long-browed monk lamented. They scoured almost every corner of the temple but found no trace of the white phone.

Exhausted, I returned to the guest quarters to sleep. Uncle Jianguo, bored out of his mind, asked what had happened. When he heard about the severed hand, he was stunned.

“Murder cases have nothing to do with you—that’s the police’s job. Did you find out where the *Lycoris radiata* blooms?” After his initial curiosity faded, he added, “Famen Temple is huge, and the Buddha’s finger bone is its most sacred relic. Who knows where it’s kept? And where would the white *Lycoris radiata* growing beside it be?”

His words made me realize I’d been sidetracked, doing the police’s work instead of my own. But with Jiese involved in this mess, I’d have to wait until the mystery of the hand was solved before questioning him. Meanwhile, I’d look for the Buddha’s finger bone—maybe I’d find Xie Lingyu.

If she knew I was here, would she come to see me?

“When is Hua Chongyang coming back?” I asked. Uncle Jianguo shook his head. “No idea where he went. Maybe he really went to film that TV series *My Date with a Vampire Lord*!”

Hua Chongyang had gone out at night to catch wild dogs—could he be connected to the severed hand?

The thought flashed through my mind and wouldn’t leave.

That night, the snow fell heavier. Fortunately, the guest quarters were sturdy, so we didn’t feel the cold. I charged my phone and read through all of Master Donggua’s Weibo posts—they were about Buddhist teachings and life experiences, written in simple yet profound language.

Spreading the Dharma through modern means was truly commendable. After reading every post and comment, I noticed two interesting things:

First, almost every post had a comment from a user named “I Am Xiaoqing,” varying in length.

Second, in early October, Master Donggua posted a short entry about *Lycoris radiata*:

“If *Lycoris radiata* truly blooms once every three thousand years, with flowers and leaves never meeting, would there be a monk waiting in the dead of night for the flowers to quietly bloom? Like a young man standing on a street corner, feigning calm yet trembling with excitement as he waits for a passing maiden.”

I leapt out of bed in excitement. “It exists! The *Lycoris radiata* absolutely exists!”

Uncle Jianguo, half-asleep, grumbled, “Xiao Qi, stop sleep-talking. We barely have time to rest as it is.”

I muttered an acknowledgment. Master Donggua’s Weibo mentioned the white *Lycoris radiata*—though it hadn’t bloomed yet.

That meant the flower *had* to exist.

Why would such an enlightened monk be so fascinated by a flower that grows in darkness?

Did the young man on the street corner ever meet the maiden?

The distant mountains grew whiter with snow. The young man on the street corner must have waited.

*Whose vigil lasts through the night, beneath stars that are not of yesterday?*

At dawn, around six, the monks began their morning chanting. I kicked Uncle Jianguo awake—though he was ex-military and used to early rises, his recent “encounter” with the aunty had left him exhausted.

Outside the guest quarters, Xie Xiaoyu and Little Jian were playing in the snow. Little Jian rolled around joyfully.

With Xie Xiaoyu was the snake spirit woman I’d seen earlier, though now dressed plainly—black pants and a trench coat, no makeup, completely natural. Together, they were building a snowman. Behind them, the hall echoed with the hum of monks chanting the *Diamond Sutra*.

Even without makeup, the snake spirit woman exuded allure—ripe as a peach.

Playing with Xie Xiaoyu, they complemented each other perfectly, their laughter ringing bright and carefree.

To quote Wong Kar-wai: *Even killers have elementary school classmates.* Behind every ripe peach is a girl who once bloomed. Nearby, a monk sweeping snow slowed his movements, stealing glances—proof that beauty truly is a feast for the eyes.

“Who are you?” I asked after watching for a while. The snowman—a cute *Pleasant Goat*—was complete.

The snake spirit woman’s hands were red from the cold, her breath visible as she smiled. “I’m a guest here. Saw this little sister playing and joined her. She’s adorable, though a bit… slow. Is she your sister? With this snowstorm, it seems we’re stuck here for now.”

Her eyes flickered with a seductive glint when she looked at me. Being young, I couldn’t handle it and quickly averted my gaze. “Xie Xiaoyu, stop fooling around. You’re getting your clothes soaked. Little Jian, I should rename you ‘Little Wild.’”

The snake spirit woman laughed. “I won’t bite. Why won’t you look at me?”

I stiffened, unprepared for her directness. “It’s not that. You’re just too… dazzling. I’m afraid I’d lose control. You know how young men are—broke but dreaming of meeting a stunning beauty to sweep off her feet. Yet when it happens, we clam up, terrified of our empty pockets.”

Her face twitched, as if struck by a painful truth. With a final smile at Xie Xiaoyu, she walked away, leaving footprints in the snow. I had no idea what her real intentions were.

In the morning, Yun Chaohai returned with test results from Fufeng County: the hand wasn’t Master Donggua’s, and database comparisons yielded no matches. He sought me out specifically. “This hand’s been detached for over a day—it’s not from last night. It was cut from a corpse.”

“Officer Yun, I wouldn’t celebrate yet. If it’s not Master Donggua’s, someone else is dead. With this heavy snow, we need to search the mountains around Famen Temple quickly—before wild boars or other animals ruin the body.” I felt a flicker of relief. If the hand wasn’t Master Donggua’s, he might still be alive.

But if Master Donggua was alive, someone else was dead.

“You analyze things so clearly—you must be some kind of famous detective. Got any ideas on finding the body or the killer?” Yun Chaohai eyed me, then handed me a local *Golden Monkey* cigarette.