Footsteps echoed nearby, and Rachel Lan turned her head alertly.
"Are you in charge of this area, Rosa Sha?"
A woman around thirty, yawning, with messy hair and casual clothes, approached. Her shoulder-length hair framed a pretty face, but she looked utterly drained.
"Oh, Rachel Lan, what are you doing here? This isn't your area, is it?" Rosa Sha wandered over, speaking lazily as she kept yawning. She glanced at her watch, sat carelessly on a bench in the corridor where some water and leftover buns were placed, and started eating.
"It's already this late. Only five minutes left."
Looking at Rosa Sha, Rachel felt no sense of tension from her; it was as if this was just another ordinary day at work.
"I almost got confused. There's another one nearby called Richard Li, haha."
Rosa Sha spoke as she ate her bun and drank some water, walking over.
"So annoying. These past few days, that bothersome old man keeps pushing me to work harder."
Rachel Lan burst out laughing.
"Rosa Sha, how many souls have you collected?"
"Including this one, exactly four hundred. Sigh, I've gathered over a hundred just recently. It's exhausting."
Rosa Sha said this while keeping an eye on the situation inside.
"You're lucky, Rachel Lan. Now someone helps you collect souls, so you can relax. I've barely slept lately."
What caught my attention was what Rosa Sha said about another person nearby named Richard Li. I casually asked about him—he's just a general store owner, nothing special, runs a small shop. Then I remembered the list: a forty-three-year-old general store owner.
"Well, it probably won't be long. That guy's drowning in debt, chased by people all day—just like this one, haha."
Suddenly, Rachel Lan, Howard Lee, and I stared at Rosa Sha in surprise.
"How do you know that?"
Rachel Lan asked.
"I live nearby, of course I know. People chase him right into the shop, threaten to burn his house down if he doesn't pay up. He's even separated from his wife now. I think he's about to snap. When someone falls that far, it's over quick."
Afterward, Rachel Lan and Rosa Sha discussed asking Richard Li's soul a few questions later, and Rosa agreed.
At 10:35 and 36 seconds, the heart monitor in Richard Li's hospital room flatlined. Doctors and nurses rushed in to check.
We followed Rosa Sha into an empty room next door. She took out a small purple clay gourd, muttered a chant, and soon—whoosh—a pale figure appeared, passing through the wall: it was Richard Li.
"I'm already dead, aren't I?"
Richard Li spoke, and we all nodded.
"Mr. Li, we hope you can answer a few questions," Rachel Lan said, beginning the inquiry.
"Heh, young lady, I don't know. What you're asking—I was born Richard Li. I've never changed my name."
We looked at Richard Li's soul in surprise. Then I mentioned his grandson, saying he wasn't called Richard Li, and that he'd been harmed.
"Kids, maybe they saw or heard wrong."
After Rosa Sha collected Richard Li's soul, she left. The three of us returned to the car. Once again, we hit a dead end—thirteen people named Richard Li, one gone, twelve left. Who among them is the real Michael Chen from back then?
"Qingyuan, you keep an eye on the general store owner Richard Li. Howard and I will split up to investigate the other people named Richard Li. We need to dig deeper—there has to be one that's the right person."
Seeing my anxious look, Rachel Lan quickly spoke up. If we couldn't find Michael Chen soon, Justin Huang might really be in danger.
Time was running out. I walked straight down the hospital street; it was only two stops away, and it was still early.
Around eleven o'clock, I arrived at the Li Family General Store—a cramped shop, about sixty or seventy square meters. The area was sparsely populated, with many old buildings, unlike the newly built district I'd just passed through.
The road was full of potholes, and most shops had their doors shut. Many places had 'demolition' signs posted.
I walked up to the rolling shutter and knocked.
Suddenly, the shutter rattled up with a loud clang, and a strong smell of alcohol hit me.
"Fuck you! I don't have money, but I've still got a life. Come on, if you've got the guts, kill me. I don't want to live anyway." A man in his forties, looking disheveled and drunk, his eyes bloodshot, shouted.
I hurriedly explained that I was a cop here to ask some questions. Helpless, I pulled out a fake police badge—Stone gave it to me. It was fake, but it could be checked in the police system. The only downside was, I couldn't collect a salary with it.
"Officer, sigh, I'm drowning in debt and under a lot of pressure. Sorry about earlier. Can you help me?"
The general store owner named Richard Li started talking.
Only then did I learn that Richard Li's bad luck began a few years ago. In his thirties, the Li Family General Store was thriving, and he even opened a branch. He got a decent compensation for the demolished district, but his luck turned for the worse in recent years.
He had an accident, crashed into someone, and paid a lot in damages. Then a hired clerk ran off with a shipment payment and couldn't be found. On top of that, someone upstairs in his branch was using drugs, and the police investigated for a long time. His string of misfortune continued—now his wife and child have gone back to her family, and he's on the verge of collapse.
Richard Li took another swig from his bottle. After speaking, he was in agony, clutching his head and sobbing uncontrollably.
"It's all that damned Taoist's fault! Him, it's all him..."
"Taoist? What do you mean?" I asked urgently.
(This chapter isn't finished yet~.~ Click next page to continue reading!)
Richard Li shook his head, looking drunk.
"I can't say... can't say..." Gradually, he fell asleep.
I waited for him to wake up. Around four in the afternoon, he finally stirred. When I asked again about the Taoist, he immediately denied it, looking terrified.
"What exactly happened? Can you tell me, Mr. Li? Please, tell me."
"I don't know, maybe I'm just drunk. Sorry, officer. I was just drunk, it's nothing. My luck will turn, I'm sure of it. I'm just a bit down now, but things will get better."
With that, Richard Li asked me to leave. I couldn't press further, so I found a nearby hotel, planning to return tomorrow.
At six in the evening, after dinner, I decided to rest for a while before heading back to Richard Li's place to look around. I still wondered about the Taoist he'd mentioned.
Just then, the phone rang. It was Rachel Lan.
I answered.
On the call, Rachel Lan explained that she'd found the youngest Richard Li—just twenty-one, a college student. Everyone said he was incredibly lucky. At twenty-one, he already owned two small companies, both growing fast. He was thriving and wealthy.
All this had happened for the twenty-one-year-old Richard Li in just a few years.
Aside from these details, Rachel Lan couldn't learn anything else.
After hanging up, my headache worsened. I had no leads at all.
At eight in the evening, I went to Richard Li's shop. It was still closed. I wandered around, asking about him.
Locals called Richard Li 'Laughing Li' because he was always cheerful and lively. But lately, his luck had soured—misfortune after misfortune.
My mind was a mess. Of these thirteen Richard Lis, which one was really Michael Chen from back then? I had no clue.
Early the next morning, I got up and planned to question Richard Li again about the Taoist. As soon as I stepped onto the street, something felt off—several police cars with flashing red lights were parked outside his house, and a crowd had gathered.
"Poor guy... Laughing Li, maybe it's better this way. I haven't seen him smile in ages. Maybe this is a release for him."
I overheard someone muttering in the crowd.
I rushed in, but a few officers stopped me. Panicked, I flashed my fake badge, and they let me through.
"Oh, it's you, Zhang Qingyuan. Didn't expect us to be colleagues." It was the young officer who'd come that morning when the director accused me of killing the doctor and staff.
I nodded awkwardly.
"Zhang Qingyuan, I don't know what connections you have upstairs or what mission you're doing at that psychiatric hospital. Your murder record surveillance footage has been wiped clean, and they've forbidden us to investigate. Hmph. Just remember, a murderer is a murderer, no matter where you go."
The young officer whispered in my ear. My face turned pale as I stared at him, suddenly remembering what Officer Shi told me before he passed out drunk—that my murder video was real and hadn't been tampered with.
But then I thought, maybe the person really did die by my hand, but it was the evil spirit—already dealt with—that possessed me and did it. Right now, though, I was more concerned about Richard Li.
I couldn't believe it—Richard Li had hanged himself from the ceiling. He'd already been cut down, but the marks on his neck were purple. I clenched my fists, feeling deeply guilty.
After a brief investigation, the police ruled it a suicide.
"Impossible. This Richard Li wouldn't kill himself," I muttered.
I couldn't shake the feeling. Yesterday, I saw hope in his eyes—he believed his bad luck would end and good fortune would come. He wasn't the least bit negative. What he'd told me after drinking was just drunken complaints.