Volume Ten: Crossroads Chapter Five: The Accident No One Knew About

Back at the police station, Yaoguang placed the male ghost in the conference room, with the King of the Underworld following behind.

“Can you remember what happened to you?” Yaoguang asked.

“I only know that I died in a car accident,” the ghost replied.

“Why were you in the sewer?” she pressed.

“I don’t know. When I woke up, I was already in the sewer. I tried to crawl out, but then I saw myself lying on the ground. That’s when I realized I was dead—killed by a car.”

“What kind of car? Can you remember?” Yaoguang asked.

“It was white. I can’t recall anything else. All I remember is that it happened about a month ago. I was crossing the street, a car suddenly appeared, and I was thrown into the air. When I woke up again, I was in the sewer.”

“Do you have any family here?” Yaoguang continued.

“There’s only me in this place,” the ghost said.

“Can you remember where you lived?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Why did you appear at the intersection to save people?” the King of the Underworld inquired.

“I don’t want anyone to die. I want people to live,” the ghost said softly.

“That’s enough for now. You must be hungry. Let me get you something to eat,” Yaoguang offered.

“You’re a good person. Who are you, and how can you see me? It makes sense she can see me, but what about you?” the ghost asked, pointing at Yaoguang. “The light around you is beautiful.”

Moved by his words, Yaoguang gazed at him. This man must have been kind in life—why did he meet such a tragic end? Spiritual energy surged around her, and the phoenix mark appeared at her brow. “I am Yaoguang, the Phoenix Deity of Phoenix Mountain. We will take care of your case. Whatever happened to you, we will seek justice for you. When the truth comes out, she will guide you on—whether to reincarnation or elsewhere. The choice will be yours.”

The ghost knelt and bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“No need for thanks. Oh, and by the way, people outside can see you here, so don’t call me ‘Your Majesty’ in front of them. Also, this is the police station; don’t wander around. Stay with us or in this room, understood?” the King of the Underworld instructed.

“All right. I’ll stay here.” The ghost nodded obediently.

Soon, Yitian arrived with offerings, set them on the table, and the ghost thanked him before eating. As he ate, he began to weep. The tears of a ghost are insubstantial, but the sight was deeply sorrowful.

“Ah Yao, go on with your work. I’ll keep him company,” the immortal male entered. “Take your time eating; there’s plenty.”

“Thank you, thank you all,” the ghost said, wiping his tears. His features were clean and gentle, yet etched with sorrow and desolation. His eyes were clouded with confusion, fear, and a wandering sadness that struck Yaoguang to her core.

“Eat here while we investigate your case. If you need anything, let the immortal know,” Yaoguang said, closing her eyes briefly to suppress a rising tide of grief.

“Okay,” the ghost replied, clutching a piece of fruit with earnest gratitude.

Yaoguang emerged from the room, where Xuanchen and Tianyou approached. “How did it go?”

“He was killed by a white car, but remembers little else. It happened a month ago. He was the one who saved people at the intersection. He has no family in Ye City, and no way home.” Yaoguang’s eyes reddened and she shook her head helplessly. “He’s so pitiable—died in confusion, became a ghost, and yet wishes only for others to live.” Her gaze turned cold. “Investigate thoroughly. I will see justice done for him.”

“Phoenix, we can open a formal case. This isn’t just a traffic accident,” Lele called from the forensics room.

“What’s the situation?” Yaoguang asked, surprised.

“Come with me,” Lele led her inside. On the autopsy table lay the severely decomposed remains of a man, reduced mostly to bone.

“The deceased is male, about twenty-nine years old, according to the fusion surfaces of his toe bones. Most muscle and internal organs are gone. The skeleton shows multiple fractures from external force. There’s a large crack in the skull, likely the fatal wound. However, there’s also a blunt-force injury at the back of the head—circular, here.” Lele pointed at the skull. “That blow alone wasn’t fatal but would have caused dizziness. Toxicology found traces of sleeping pills—too little to cause unconsciousness, just confusion. Taken together, this is no simple case.”

“We deduce he was drugged, though not enough for full sedation. In his muddled state, he instinctively headed home, was attacked again—though not fatally—then, upon reaching the intersection, was hit by a car, killed, and dragged into the sewer. So, the questions: who drugged him, who struck him, and were they the same person as the driver? We must first identify him, and then find the vehicle,” Yaoguang said grimly as she left the forensics room.

“Xuanchen, let’s re-examine the intersection,” Yaoguang said, leading the way.

“Seal off the area. Search for bloodstains around this manhole cover. Even after a month, there should be something left,” she instructed, bending to search.

Sure enough, they found clues with everyone’s efforts.

“Phoenix, centered on this manhole, there’s a bloodstain to the north. Drops of blood trail from there to the cover, likely where the victim bled after being struck. From that spot to the manhole, the blood forms a smear, and there’s blood in the sewer as well. This intersection’s north-south street is Xiyang, east-west is Xiling. I deduce the victim came from Xiling, crossed to this intersection, and was struck by a car heading south on Xiyang. The driver, seeing the victim dead, dragged him into the sewer and fled,” Xuanchen analyzed.

“I think so too,” Tianyou agreed.

“That driver had nerves of steel—not only did he not flee immediately, but he also thought to hide the body in the sewer. How did he know there was a sewer here? Yao, do you ever notice manhole covers while driving? Would you check if they’re for sewers or cables?” the King of the Underworld remarked.

“You’re right. This wasn’t an accidental hit-and-run. The driver knew when the victim would pass by, knew there were no cameras here, and deliberately killed him before hiding the body. The driver was familiar with the victim’s habits and the area—possibly an acquaintance,” Yaoguang replied. “Tell forensics to pull all footage from a month ago, between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m., of every northbound vehicle on Xiyang Street. We have to find that car. There may be no cameras here, but there are at other intersections.”

Back at the station, Yaoguang entered the trace evidence lab. “What have you found?”

“The victim wore a black suit—nothing special, just standard business attire. There was blood on the clothing, confirmed as his. But in his inner pocket, we found a business card, though the text is nearly illegible. We’re working to restore it,” the tech replied.

“Good, that may be our only lead on his identity,” Yaoguang said, heading out.

“Phoenix, we have something. During that time frame, only four white cars went north on Xiyang Street. Tianyou is checking them now,” the technician said.

“Keep at it,” Yaoguang ordered.

“Phoenix, we’ve found the car. I’ll send you its location,” Tianyou’s voice came over the phone.

Yaoguang rushed to the scene, where the car was parked at the base of a commercial office building.

“We checked all four cars from the footage—only this one had fresh paintwork. The owner is Zhang Minghai, who works upstairs. His phone shows he’s inside,” Chu Tianyou explained, leading Yaoguang to the eleventh floor.

Zhang Minghai met them in a conference room. “Officers, what’s this about?”

“We suspect you’re connected to a hit-and-run from a month ago. Please cooperate with our investigation,” Yaoguang said.

“Hit-and-run? Impossible! I’ve been on a business trip for over two months—I just got back the day before yesterday. I only got the car back then, from a friend,” Zhang said, bewildered. “Wait a moment.” He left, returned with plane tickets, and continued, “Here are my travel records. You can check my hotel logs—I was with a colleague the whole time.” He called out, “Chen, come to the conference room.”

A man entered. “What is it?”

“The police suspect I committed a hit-and-run,” Zhang explained.

“When? We’ve been away for two months! We stayed at Lijing Hotel in Yang City—there’s surveillance. Plus, we had to transfer flights; when would you have had the time?” Mr. Chen said.

“Notify forensics to verify,” Yaoguang told Huo Mingkun, who stepped out to make calls.

“I lent my car to my friend Hu Xinhao while I was gone. Maybe he was involved,” Zhang said, scribbling down an address and number. “He told me he’d scraped the car and had it repainted before returning it.”

“Master, Zhang is cleared—tech confirmed he and Chen were in Yang City during that time, and airline records match. He couldn’t have done it,” Huo Mingkun reported.

“Sorry, Mr. Zhang, but we need to inspect your car and take your fingerprints,” Yaoguang said.

“No problem,” Zhang replied, leading them to the car. Forensics began sampling.

“Tianyou, stay here. We’re going to see Hu Xinhao,” Yaoguang said, leaving with her team.

They found Hu Xinhao at the bar Zhang had mentioned. The place had just opened and was empty.

“Would you like a drink?” a man greeted them.

“We’re police. Which of you is Hu Xinhao?” Yaoguang flashed her badge.

“I am. What’s going on?” Hu Xinhao asked, confused.

“Where were you on the 26th of last month, between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m.?” Yaoguang questioned.

“I was at the bar—there’s surveillance. You can check,” Hu replied.

“Did you have Zhang’s car then? Where was it that night?”

“I did have it, but I didn’t drive it that night,” Hu said. “What happened?”

“Zhang’s car was involved in a fatal hit-and-run,” Yaoguang replied.

“What?” Hu was stunned. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he slapped his thigh. “Oh no.” He dashed upstairs and returned dragging another man by the ear.

“What are you doing, bro?” the man protested.

“Explain to the police yourself,” Hu snapped. “Meng Zicheng, remember last month on the 26th you took the car out and brought it back two days later, saying it was in the shop? You told me you scraped it on a parking pole. Did you hit someone?”

“I didn’t!” Meng Zicheng protested.

“Take them both to the station for questioning,” Yaoguang ordered, leading the way out.

Back at the station, Chu Tianyou reported, “Phoenix, the car is here. There’s blood under the hood—it’s been sent for analysis.”

“Master, I’m back,” Jiang Yun said. “Bar surveillance shows Hu Xinhao never left the bar between 3 p.m. on the 26th and 4 a.m. on the 27th. The footage is authentic—he had no time to commit the crime. We checked his apartment complex: Hu left at 2 p.m., but the car didn’t leave until 10 p.m., driven by Meng Zicheng.”

“Alright, release Hu after fingerprinting. Interrogate Meng Zicheng. I’ll check the forensic results,” Yaoguang said, pulling the King of the Underworld along.

“How is it?” she asked in the lab.

“There was no dashcam in the car. We found fingerprints belonging to Zhang, Hu, and Meng. The blood under the hood matches the victim’s DNA, and we found fabric consistent with the victim’s clothing,” the forensic tech reported.

“Alright. Meng Zicheng isn’t getting away with this,” Yaoguang said, heading for the interrogation room. She saw Hu Xinhao waiting outside.

“Officer, how many years for hit-and-run?” he asked anxiously.

“It’s more complicated than that. Your brother is in serious trouble. Wait for the trial—we can’t say more right now,” Yaoguang replied as she entered the room.

“Meng Zicheng, explain this,” she said, placing the report before him.

“No, I didn’t—I didn’t!” Meng stammered in terror.

“Then explain why you took the car out, why it was damaged, why there’s blood and fiber evidence inside. You said you scraped a parking pole—where? And where did you have the car repaired? Tell me!” Yaoguang’s face darkened. “You hit someone, didn’t report it, and dumped the body in a sewer. How could someone your age be so cruel?”

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t!” Meng wailed.

“Fine, if you didn’t, no need to worry. But we have enough evidence to charge you with hit-and-run and premeditated murder. I’m applying for your formal arrest now. Sit here and think—we have plenty of time. I’ll see how long you can last,” Yaoguang said, leaving the room with a face like a thundercloud.

“Yao, you were terrifying just now,” the King of the Underworld remarked.

“Disgusting. So young, yet so twisted,” Yaoguang spat.

“Phoenix, we’ve restored the business card,” a technician ran over, handing her a bag with a blurry card inside. “Here’s the information on the name from the card. We called the number, and someone answered. Thank you for your hard work.”

“Picturesque Scenery Advertising Design Company, General Manager Jing Ruhua. Let’s go, everyone,” Yaoguang said with a smile, pulling the King of the Underworld along.