Chapter Seven: The Old Woman’s Tale

The other officers remained outside, wary of the possibility of being surrounded. Kobayashi, Mulan, and An Feng, accompanied by the two men, entered the temple. Unlike other temples, this one was immaculately clean. Inside, it was the Bodhisattva Guanyin who was venerated.

Strangely, outside the Guanyin Temple, several sacred forest sculptures were displayed—these so-called “immortal woods” referred to the sacred groves deep in the mountains, their holy trees carved into animal forms. No trees were felled for this; the carvings were made directly from the living trees, from top to bottom. The craftsmanship was rigorous, lifelike—at first glance, one might mistake them for living animals.

Curiously, the animals here were all drawn from worldly lore: the paired-wing birds, the ill-fated mandarin ducks, the phoenixes singing in harmony, and so on.

Only the Bodhisattva was worshipped within. A plainly dressed elderly woman knelt in devout prayer. Yet the jade pendant at her neck and the bracelet on her wrist betrayed her—she was not an ordinary person.

After surveying the main hall and finding no one else, they wondered: were there really only three people here? Behind the temple, a car sat in the courtyard, stained with blood. The people here seemed unbothered by this, making no effort to clean it.

Perhaps they had not expected anyone to come so soon; it was understandable they hadn’t tidied up.

“I am a police officer. As for why I am here, I believe you already understand,” Mulan took the initiative to speak, recalling An Feng’s earlier demeanor. She hoped not to complicate things with unnecessary force.

They had approached the case with such intensity—perhaps there was some misunderstanding. Mulan felt a certain admiration for devotees, and she wanted to give this woman a chance.

She didn’t think the elderly woman was the murderer—there must be other secrets. The woman seemed so benevolent, so sincere in her prayers. It was hard to imagine her as a killer.

The old woman continued her worship, silent, unmoved by their words. After her final prostration, she turned to Mulan.

“If you have business to discuss, let’s go to the back courtyard. This is a sacred place—not suited for talk of violence,” the old woman said, a kind smile on her face. If not for the bloodstained car and the men in black, one could hardly believe such a devout elder could be behind all this.

Her composure and bearing were remarkable. Her single-minded devotion suggested this Guanyin Temple had a deeper history.

The three merely nodded and followed her to the back courtyard, which was also simple but very clean. The two men in black served them glasses of clear dew. The cups were special, the dew pristine—pure, beautiful.

Mulan sniffed the liquid and drank it, finding it to be nothing but ordinary dew, with no strange taste. In such a sacred place, she doubted the old woman would attempt to poison them.

Kobayashi discreetly took a photo, then snapped pictures of their faces. He sipped just a little before setting his cup down. It wasn’t polite, but it was his habit—he, too, was an exceptional person, accustomed to facing such situations with ease.

An Feng did not touch his cup at all, maintaining his aloof demeanor, silent, his gaze scanning the room before settling on the old woman’s face.

“It was I who sent the order to have him killed. He should have died long ago. His wife’s death was also my doing. You can sentence me to death, you can lock me away,” the old woman said as she sipped her water. Her every gesture radiated dignity. There was neither provocation nor regret in her words.

Since there was no clerk to record the statement, Mulan did it herself, recording audio and taking notes.

“Everything you say will be recorded. You may choose to remain silent, but anything you do say can be used as evidence,” Mulan reminded her. Procedure had to be followed, though the old woman confessed so easily—it did not seem forced. Was there something more beneath the surface?

“I know, you need not remind me. The man’s name was Bai Fugui. He was the man I loved for forty-seven years. But he never saw me, he only ever loved his wife. No matter how I pleaded to stay by his side, he would not keep me. My desire to kill them began twenty-seven years ago. As for letting him live until now, it was only because I, too, am near the end of my days and didn’t wish to leave him behind in this world,” the old woman recounted, her eyes filled with longing—and a bitterness born of unrequited love.

Hearing this, Mulan felt a chill. So that was what the old man had meant. What had become of this world? Could evil and darkness now be spoken of so openly? Could murder be confessed with such candor?

So, there were no truly innocent people in this world after all. Things were not as simple or pure as she had imagined.

“Take them back, make the incident public, and let the judge decide,” An Feng instructed, and the group prepared to leave.

The three suspects rose cooperatively. The old woman appeared resolute, ready to face death. Her two subordinates were utterly loyal—their eyes held no disdain for the woman, nor did they flinch at her crimes.

How remarkable this woman must have once been, to command such devotion and to possess such detachment from the world.

Mulan was exhausted. She rubbed her forehead and, before leaving, took a long look at the temple. Would this place fall into disuse now?

Sometimes the old woman’s gaze lingered on Mulan, which puzzled her, but she did not pursue it.

To see her kneeling in such reverence before the Bodhisattva, yet to think of the hatred she harbored—it was hard to imagine such contradictions within one person.

“If you have time, come here often. Perhaps you’ll find what you seek. This place will not be abandoned; I will have someone tend to it,” the old woman said before leaving, her words provoking deep thought.

Even An Feng’s gaze toward Mulan changed in that instant.

“Um…” Mulan was speechless. Why did everything seem to point back to her? Was it meant to arouse suspicion, or was there another meaning?

The other officers were baffled, but An Feng’s look startled Mulan—had the focus shifted to her so quickly?

Still, she felt secure. She was a police officer, and this was her first time here. She had never met the old woman before—her conscience was clear.

“Let’s go, let’s go home—everyone’s tired, it’s been a long day,” Mulan quickly said, eager to get into the car and leave. She could always return if the opportunity arose; the look in that woman’s eyes was enough to unsettle anyone.