Volume Twelve: Invitation from Hell Chapter Four: The Hell of Scissors

When they arrived at the matchmaking company, Yaoguang had the technicians begin searching the computer records, pulling up the complete list of everyone who had ever posted a marriage notice there.

“Akun, Axu, go look into the other employees of the company and see whether you can find any leads. Jiang Yun, check Hua Lingling’s bank transfer records and call history. Xuanchen, go through her WeChat logs. Tianyou, help me sort through her social connections.” As soon as Yaoguang finished speaking, everyone split up and moved at once.

Nothing withstands serious investigation. Once they dug in, the results were staggering. The proprietress of this matchmaking company was living under far more than one identity.

At eight that evening, they all sat together in an office.

“Let’s hear what everyone found,” Yaoguang said, looking at the thick stack of files before her, her feelings too tangled to name.

“I interviewed the other employees and learned some things about Hua Lingling’s private life. This woman has been married four times, all ending in divorce. She has no children. After the last divorce, she opened this matchmaking company, claiming that since she herself had never found happiness, she wanted others to have it. But we discovered something very strange. When men came looking for marriage, the company only registered their information and never posted it online. All the profiles actually published online were from women. And they would not take unmarried women at all. Every woman listed had already been through one marriage or several. The staff said that whenever a man came, the boss lady would brush him off with a few casual words, but when a woman came, she would bring her into the office for a private talk. As for what they discussed, no one knew,” said Chen Haixu.

“And the company has never once received a wedding invitation,” Huo Mingkun added. “The employees joke privately that not a single match has ever succeeded. Yet their wages are always paid on time, and bonuses never come up short. None of them understands what really goes on there. Their daily work is just organizing the information of the women who come in seeking marriage.”

“I checked the records on Hua Lingling’s personal accounts,” said Jiang Yun, passing over a bundle of documents. “At the end of every month, there are several large transfers into her account. I traced the senders and found two karaoke clubs, three bathhouses, two massage centers, and four bars. There are also several private accounts that transfer money to her frequently. And her call records are even more interesting. The numbers she contacts most often are about a dozen landlines belonging to those bathhouses, karaoke clubs, and bars, along with the phone numbers of those private senders.”

“The WeChat logs are even better,” Xuanchen said, shaking his head speechlessly. “They’re full of things like, ‘The Noble Consort of the Eastern Palace is beautiful,’ ‘The Virtuous Consort of the Western Palace is alluring,’ ‘The Honored Lady of the Eastern Palace has a perfect figure’—as if an emperor were selecting concubines.”

“What I found is even more interesting. See for yourselves.” Yaoguang pushed a large file box to the center of the table.

Everyone opened it in confusion—and froze. It was filled with artistic glamour photographs of women, all of them highly revealing.

“Where did these come from?” Xuanchen asked, baffled.

“Hua Lingling’s private photography studio. We brought in the photographer who worked exclusively for her. According to his statement, every woman who came in seeking marriage not only paid nothing, but was also given a free photo shoot. The catch was that the photos had to be explicit. He said many women agreed,” Tianyou said. “And that studio took no other business. It existed solely to photograph those women who came in to look for marriage.”

“So she really was a pimp,” Yaoguang said, rising to her feet. “Using the shell of a matchmaking company to run a trafficking operation. This was a supply chain for entertainment venues. Fine. Now we have work to do. Investigate those bathhouses, bars, karaoke clubs, beauty salons, and those people with frequent financial dealings. What comes next will surely be even more interesting.”

And so the entire Heavenly Sword Operations Unit sprang into motion. After days of open investigation and covert inquiries, the results left even Yaoguang and the others staring in disbelief.

The real owner behind the two karaoke clubs, three bathhouses, two massage centers, and four bars was Hua Lingling herself. As for the individuals with whom she had the most frequent dealings, they were all major clients.

The women who came seeking marriage were sorted into different ranks according to looks, education, temperament, and other conditions. The most beautiful women, with the best figures and the highest education, were called Queens. Those who were very attractive but slightly less perfect in figure were called Noble Consorts. Those a little less striking in both face and body were called Consorts. Below them came Honored Ladies, Ladies, Attendants, and so on.

Without exception, these women were sent to those entertainment establishments to drink with clients and provide company. Those who only accompanied men for drinks but did not sell themselves were called the Eastern Palace. Those who both drank and sold themselves were called the Western Palace. Women ranked as Queen or Noble Consort were reserved for those major clients. After the major clients, they would be assigned according to rank to the venues. Different ranks received different pay.

Some of the women who had originally gone there seeking marriage even became immersed in it, doing everything possible to curry favor with clients and with Hua Lingling herself in hopes of earning good evaluations and rising in rank. From collecting profiles to screening them and assigning grades, there was a complete, polished chain in place. On the surface, Hua Lingling was merely the owner of a small matchmaking company. In reality, she had monopolized the gray underworld of the entire entertainment trade and become a hidden female tycoon. She owned several luxury villas from the proceeds alone.

“This Hua Lingling is no simple figure,” Yaoguang said, shaking her head helplessly. “To command such power and such an underground network in the shadows—she’s opened our eyes.”

“During the investigation, we also found one woman ranked at the Queen level,” Xuanchen said with a sigh. “According to her, Hua Lingling first lured them into taking the glamour photos, then tried persuasion and indoctrination. If that failed, she used the photos as leverage. Once the victims were frightened, she would tell them they could choose between the Eastern Palace and the Western Palace. When this woman was designated an Eastern Palace Queen, there was a Western Palace Queen accompanying her. She drank with the boss, and after the drinking was over, the Western Palace woman handled the rest. But the Western Palace Queen earned twice what she did.”

“What a formidable Hua Lingling,” Tianyou said dryly. “A true tailor.”

“All right. We have solid evidence on everything, don’t we?” Yaoguang asked.

“The evidence is ironclad,” Xuanchen replied with a nod.

“Then let’s go. The chief’s office.”

She turned and drifted straight out. Director Jia looked up in surprise the moment he saw her.

“What is it this time?” he asked.

“This time, it’s a full-scale purge. See for yourself. It’s practically a masterstroke.” Yaoguang laid the files before him, smiling without quite smiling.

The look in her eyes made his scalp prickle. He opened the files and began reading carefully. It took him a full hour to finish. Yaoguang sat there without a word, watching his expression shift from suspicion to surprise, from surprise to shock, from shock to utter stupefaction, then to harried alarm, then to mounting fury, and finally to outright rage. His face went from pale to red, from red to green, from green to blue, from blue to black. It was an extraordinary spectacle.

“Director Zheng, it’s Old Jia. I’m sending you a file—take a look at it,” Director Jia said, struggling to control his emotions. “But brace yourself. Don’t tear the place down.”

“I’m already at your door.” Director Zheng pushed it open and entered. “What is it?”

“Please have a look,” said Yaoguang, handing over the file. “And no tearing down buildings.”

Sure enough, another performance of changing expressions followed without needing to ask.

An hour later, orders began to pour out one after another. The entire Ye City Public Security Bureau mobilized. Aside from a few clerks and the forensic staff, everyone else was deployed. And when there still were not enough hands, the armed police were brought in as well.

Under the night sky, Entertainment Street blazed with neon and riotous lights. Police sirens and flashing patrol lamps fell across that world of intoxication and luxury, making it look breathtaking in the most dangerous way. Every property under Hua Lingling’s name—karaoke clubs, bars, beauty salons, bathhouses—was surrounded by police. In an instant the whole district exploded into chaos, noisy and frantic. Ye City boiled over once more.

At the same time, those major clients were also taken down.

Then came the truly tumultuous part: overtime interrogations around the clock, a grinding relay of effort that lasted seven days and six nights. By the time several prison transport vehicles finally drove away, the ground of the Ye City Public Security Bureau courtyard was strewn with police officers lying every which way. Yaoguang was sprawled over the hood of her car, too exhausted to move even a finger.

“My lady, how did you all end up this worn out?” Yitian stood at the gate the next day, dumbfounded at the sight of officers collapsed all over the ground.

“Don’t ask. I’m dying,” Yaoguang mumbled.

“Hurry up. What are you standing there for?” Yitian ordered the people he had brought with him.

At once, more than twenty people rushed forward. They set up tables, arranged stools, laid out the cooked food they had brought, and then, with many hands working at once, hauled the officers up from the ground.

“Officers, eat first. Go back and rest after you’ve had a meal,” Yitian said politely.

“Phoenix, do you know why everyone likes you?” Captain Song said, biting into a chicken leg. “Because following you means you’ll never go hungry. But it might work you to death.”

Director Jia was pulled to his feet by Yitian. During this operation, he had followed it from beginning to end in person, and now all he felt was that his vision was swimming.

“Yitian, I’m going home. Bring my disciple with me—all of them. Xuanchen, Tianyou, Axu too. Let them come to my place and rest.” By then Yaoguang had already been helped into the car by the housemaid. Jiang Yun had fallen asleep with a piece of steak still clamped between his teeth.

In the swimming pool at Yaoguang’s residence, she lay on a floating bed upon the water. She had taken no more than a few drags from the cigarette in her hand before she slipped into complete unconscious sleep. For the past several days, no one had slept more than three hours a night. There were more than a hundred people connected to the case, all of whom had to be interrogated one by one. Even the forensic doctors had been pressed into service.

“How did Ayao and the others get this exhausted?” the male immortal asked, standing by the pool and looking at the sleeping figure on the water with aching concern.

“The Scissor Hell case involved more than a hundred people. They worked in shifts day and night without stopping,” Yitian explained. “You should have seen them when I went to pick them up. They were all lying on the ground. This one really wrung them dry.”

“We still haven’t found the victim’s soul,” the male immortal said with a sigh as he sat in a chair by the water.

“You keep watch here. I’ll go make something to eat, in case she wakes up.” Yitian turned and went back toward the kitchen.

With a sweep of his hand, the male immortal conjured a curtain of shade suspended in midair to block the sun.

When Yaoguang awoke, the sky was already thick with stars.

A week later, the principal figures involved in the case were transferred to the supervisory authorities for public prosecution. None of that required Yaoguang’s attention anymore. The marriage-seeking files and the case records uncovered during the investigation were sealed because they implicated too many people, and the court hearings were conducted in camera. To the outside world, it was described only as a routine inspection operation.

Yaoguang sat on a stool in a daze.

These women had already endured failed marriages. They had given everything, clenched their teeth, struggled their way out of shadow, pain, and hardship, and resolved to begin again. Yet instead of opening the door to happiness and life, they had stepped through the gate of dust and desire. From guarded chastity to glittering banquets, from grace unstained to the painted whirl of pleasure districts, from innocence and quiet purity to practiced ease—is that transformation, or is it ruin?

Hua Lingling was clever. She had stirred awake the darkest abyss in their hearts. Hua Lingling was also cruel. She had shattered every last illusion these women still held about love and marriage. Some were still awake. Some no longer wished to wake. Some had already lost themselves completely.

And Hua Lingling, herself a woman, had used women, taking the misery she had suffered and magnifying it infinitely in the lives of others. That was more hateful than the old matchmakers of bygone days who urged women into remarriage. The red thread in her hands did not bind couples into harmonious devotion. It drew them instead into intoxication and decadence. Her so-called red thread was no thread at all, but a pair of scissors—cutting away all hope these women still had for love and marriage.

No wonder the killer had wrapped her in red thread and used scissors to murder her.

Hell. Once you enter hell, there is no road back.

The Second Circle of Hell: Scissor Hell.