Chapter 268: Blood On The Handle (1/2)

From a glance, it was obvious Zhu Xiaohao's accident was a deliberate attempt to trap us here.

The abbot told us our food would be ready shortly and kindly added that Zhu Xiaohao's portion would be sent to the room, drawing yet another burst of piety and gratitude from Zhu Xiaohao. What a clueless idiot–thanking the culprits and pointing fingers at his would-be rescuers!

Upon exiting the meditation room, I noticed that there were two other monks in the courtyard. The thin one sat on a bench at the entrance of the side hall, using a butterfly knife to trim his fingernails, while the other monk crouched under the old locust tree at the entrance of the courtyard, staring aimlessly with his one glass eye. Their expressions had an air of hostility, especially Glass Eye who stared greedily at Bingxin as if to strip her naked with his eyes. The monks’ intentions couldn’t be any clearer–their jobs were to ensure we wouldn’t leave.

”These baldies won't let us go!” Dali whispered in a low voice. “What should we do? Fight them?”

”There’s no way I can defeat them in a fight,” I admitted. “I can only outwit them.”

”Is there any possibility they’re actually real monks who just don't observe the rules and regulations? And this is just a case of us overthinking the situation?” asked Dali.

But that was wishful thinking on Dali’s part.

”I’ve already said that I’m only 90% sure that they are wanted criminals. I’ve not ruled out what you said entirely,” I explained. “But in our current situation, we must be alert and prepare for the worst. What I want to know most is what’s hidden in that arhat statue.”

”Song Yang-gege, do you suspect there's a corpse hidden inside?” asked Bingxin.

”There is that possibility since rotting corpses generate a lot of heat and the arhat’s tears resemble corpse oil!”

Dali gaped, ”C-corpse oil?!”

I nodded. ”Corpse oil is the product of decaying human fat. If Zhu Xiaohao hadn’t stopped me at the time, I could’ve smelled it to be certain.”

”The decomposition of a corpse not only produces corpse oil, but also methane, ammonia, and phosphorus,” added Bingxin. “Song Yang-gege, do you recall any of those smells at the time?”

With my keen sense of smell, I was sure I hadn’t caught a whiff of rotting flesh. I turned to the statue in the courtyard that was waiting for a coat of paint and said, ”If they’ve managed to seal it up properly, it is possible for the smell to be contained.”

Upon further contemplation, Bingxin said, ”The decay of a corpse also produces trace amounts of cyanide. Song Yang-gege, were there any dead bugs beside the statue?”

I shook my head to say I hadn’t seen any.

I had an inkling these baldies wouldn’t allow us back into the main hall. Dali sighed, ”If only we could conduct a long-range autopsy.”

”Long-range autopsy?” I laughed. ”We can’t do that, but here’s what we can do. Instead of direct evidence, we can look for circumstantial evidence such as the murder weapon! Where would they hide something like that?”

”The kitchen!” exclaimed Bingxin.

We continued our discussion in hushed whispers as we walked towards the kitchen. Scarface had just prepared our vegetarian meal when Bingxin and Dali both enthusiastically offered, ”Master, let us serve!”

The two walked off with Scarface while I took advantage of the monk’s absence to examine the kitchen. I swiped the surface of the chopping board with my fingers and felt some grease, though I couldn’t ascertain if it was human or animal fat. But I highly doubted they were sick enough to eat human flesh.

Then, I picked up the kitchen knives one by one and held them to my nose. One of the knife handles smelled a bit off. Using Cave Vision, I meticulously ran my eyes all over the knife and found some solidified blood and bits of what I suspected to be human tissues at the joint between the knife handle and the blade. Additionally, I found a strand of long hair between the chopping board and the wall which was a bizarre location for such a discovery, especially in the kitchen of a Buddhist temple.

I grabbed a wooden rod and dug around the interior of the traditional stove, and soon stirred up a small piece of plastic which looked like a corner of an ID card as indicated by the anti-counterfeit sticker on it.

Suddenly, a familiar Buddhist chant sounded from behind me as the abbot appeared at the door like a ghost in a horror movie. ”What are you doing here, benefactor?”

I squeezed out the most harmless, foolish smile I could muster and said, ”This is my first time seeing a traditional cooking stove. I’m rather curious about it. Is it okay if I try it out for our dinner tonight?”

My words seemed to put his worries to rest. ”Very well. It’s no problem at all if you wish to help. Your meal is ready. Please head to Heavenly Scents Kitchen where we eat.”

”Oh, wonderful!” I nodded.

As soon as he turned away, I grabbed the smallest knife off the shelf and hid it in my sleeve.

Our lunch was congee and pickles. Scarface sat opposite of us the entire time, as if he were monitoring us. I quietly typed on my cell phone, using my bowl to conceal my actions as I pushed the phone over to Bingxin and Dali who nodded tacitly at once.

After we had our fill, I called Scarface and waved my phone at him. ”Hey, Master, don't you guys have Wi-fi?”

”No!” Scarface’s rebuff was cold.

I sighed, ”How unlucky! I’ve not yet signed in on Onmyoji today! Do any of you have Internet? Lend me your phone so that I can sign in!”

”I can’t get any signal,” Dali lamented with a glance at his phone.