Chapter 122 The Hunchbacked Shadow (9)

When he looked over, there was a patient lying unconscious beside him, with a bowl of dark medicine next to him, which he slowly poured into the patient's mouth.

The bitter, sticky smell of medicine lingered in this small space, and sunlight shone at his feet.

For a moment, it seemed as if a picture had been painted on a church stained glass window, with the beautiful Christ Child compassionately embracing the departed life, and his knees becoming a solemn altar.

"What a coincidence." Wei Shengqianheng stood up, supporting his face, his long, black, and soft hair cascading over his shoulders.

He walked up to them, his eyebrows as gentle as crescent moons, and then, in a drawn-out, muffled voice, pointed directly at her: "Have you come to see me?"

If the previous sentence was not clear, Shu Ningmiao was certain that he was deliberately provoking trouble based on this sentence.

She said calmly, "No."

Xiao Jiang spoke up at the right moment, explaining why they had come here to investigate.

"I see."

Wei Shengqianheng didn't seem to mind at all. With the same expression, he naturally walked to her side and asked, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

His gaze fixed on Shu Ningmiao was truly unsettling.

Shu Changyan put his arm around his sister's shoulder with a gentle smile, but there was no smile in his eyes. He just calmly scrutinized her.

The gentle and kind-looking Holy Son let out a soft "Oh dear," avoiding his gaze. The corners of his mouth drooped slightly, then quickly curved upwards again. He seemed to be very good at using his vulnerability and that invincible face.

Zhao muttered in a voice only they could hear, "Is this the kind of expression a human being with any humanity would show?"

Xiao Jiang lowered her voice: "Can't you guys be a little more polite?"

Shu Ningmiao, uninterested in the acrid smell of burning food in the air, had already broken free and walked a few steps ahead of the others.

As a church symbol that is involved in parliamentary politics to some extent, Wei Shengqianheng was very accommodating to their request. He ordered the servants around him to leave, and then pretended to be troubled as he rubbed his forehead and told them, "This place is usually taken care of by believers from the neighborhood in turns. It will take some time to find enough people. Why don't you look around the neighborhood first?"

Zhao sat down without any hesitation, smiling at the seemingly harmless young man beside him: "Alright, I'll wait here."

He has always been a meticulous person, and Xiao Jiang didn't expect him to do anything anyway, just to avoid causing her trouble. As things stand, Shu Ningmiao seems to be more reliable than him.

Knowing each other's identities perfectly well, and with Shu Changyan standing there, Wei Shengqianheng couldn't very well abandon his duty of entertaining them and continue to stick to Shu Ningmiao's back, so he stood there with a smile on his face.

The room was filled with the unpleasant smell of steam, and the people were struggling in pain. The sensations were indescribable. Some people were already used to it, while others turned a blind eye.

Xiao Jiang took a step forward and saw that Shu Ningmiao had already walked far away. He turned to the side and subtly beckoned to her, signaling her to come over.

She ran over in two or three steps, and followed Shu Ningmiao around the back of the shelter.

"Where to?" Xiao Jiang asked, a puzzled look on her face.

Shu Ning cleverly used a voice that only the two of them could hear to say, "The welfare facilities in this area belong to the Yangsong Church, including the people coming and going from the orphanage, who will be registered by the churches in the area."

"Are you looking for information about that teacher named Kuai Song?"

Shu Ningmiao didn't say yes or no, but the person who died was brought back from Prometheus by Erigee, so of course it was impossible for him to leave any trace in the church.

The two of them sneaked into the church archives as if they were in an empty house.

The Church of the Reverend still maintains the classical tradition of handwritten archives. Every corner of the archives is filled with papers, which are recorded not only in the currently used Pinhian language, but also in Old Pinhian.

Xiao Jiang didn't recognize a single word, so she could only quietly squat in the corner and watch her.

Fortunately, Shu Ningmiao didn't spend too much time on it; she just took out one of the books, flipped through a few pages, and then put it back.

She pulled out two pages and handed them to Xiao Jiang. Her fingertip touched the photo in the file, which was none other than the nun named Yin from the orphanage. However, she looked younger than she actually was, and her eyes and brows had a somewhat arrogant air about them.

Xiao Jiang could only understand pictures, and asked her in a silly manner, "What does it say on this?"

"This woman is named Yin. She is a war orphan adopted by the government. She had always lived a comfortable life in the central city of Pinne and graduated from a prestigious university. After the age of twenty-five, for some unknown reason, she converted to the Church of the Singing and became a nun. She then chose to stay and live in the new land."

Shu Ningmiao knew that she was confused by all the unclear and ambiguous things about Pine, so she changed the subject and asked, "When did you come to Pine?"

"Let me think, it's been so long, I can't even remember anymore." Xiao Jiang propped herself up on the ground with her hands and casually sat down with her legs bent. "I was about fourteen or fifteen years old, which is more than ten years now. I was recruited by Commander Pinne after I awakened my superpower. I was originally going to go to school in Cornunos, but I was recruited by the military after only two days. Anyway, I don't like studying, so I was quite happy."

"Was Zhao your partner from then on?" she asked her.

“Yes.” She grinned, revealing her white teeth. “Thinking about it, I realize that many years have passed.”

Don't you find it strange?

Shu Ningmiao sat down next to her, folded the two sheets of paper several times, and put them into her pocket: "You've lived in Phineas for over ten years, and you can communicate without any problems, yet you don't know the most basic words."

"Maybe I just don't have any talent." Xiao Jiang covered her forehead, her ears turning red. She could tell that Shu Ningmiao's words were not malicious, but she was still a little guilty and ashamed: "If you ask me to read a book, I'll fall asleep in two seconds."

That's not what I meant.

She looked at Xiao Jiang, her eyes revealing many emotions that Xiao Jiang could not understand, even though she still appeared as proud and aloof as ever: "In these past ten years, have you ever returned to Meng Dan?"

“Ah—” Xiao Jiang put her hands behind her head, but the smile on her lips didn’t disappear: “Don’t you know? After signing all those messy agreements and becoming a citizen of Pines, it was impossible for me to go back. The salary of the executor was so high. I thought it was worth it back then. If I hadn’t left my hometown, I would never have earned so much money in my entire life. If I hadn’t left… I would never have seen such a world in my entire life.”

"In my memory, it was a country so small that it would be shrunk off like a sesame seed on a map. There was no airport, and it took half a month to get there by boat." Xiao Jiang looked up at the dusty roof: "There was no internet, and nothing fun to do. All year round, our rice bowls were filled with chili peppers, and in autumn, the fields were covered with golden wheat, like a heavy sea."

Shu Ningmiao was silent for a moment, then grasped her warm hand and turned it so that her palm was facing up: "I will teach you to write Pinhès."

Xiao Jiang's hands were rough yet supple, with her palms slightly whiter than the backs of her hands. Her light wheat-colored skin was covered with calluses, and there was a scar running through her arm between her thumb and forefinger.

Her fingers traced the lines of Xiao Jiang's palm, her fingertips slightly cool, the soft touch like being brushed against a soft ball of cotton.

Xiao Jiang felt a little itchy, but didn't pull her hand away.

"What word is this?" she asked.

Shu Ningmiao said, "Your name is Xiao Jiang."

She traced it again with her finger.

Xiao Jiang, mimicking the cat's movements, stretched out his other hand and used dust to write the two characters on the ground, stroke by stroke.

As expected, the writing was crooked, fragmented, and completely unrelated to her handwriting.

Shu Ningmiao showed no surprise and patiently wrote it again.

once.

twice.

three times.

...

Only after Xiao Jiang wrote her name in a crooked and messy way on the ground did Shu Ningmiao release her wrist and slowly stand up: "Let's go."

As they walked into the shelter, Wei Shengqianheng's figure stood at the end, his head slightly bowed, with another person, also dressed in white, whose face could not be seen, standing beside him.

Upon their return, the surrounding silence was broken, and Wei Shengqianheng took the initiative to introduce them, saying, "He is the person who was on duty yesterday. If you have any questions, just ask him."

As usual, Xiao Jiang described the situation at the time, took out a photo of the body, pointed to an alley not far away, and asked for his thoughts: "Yesterday morning I followed the smell of blood to that alley and found the body. The time of death was no more than two hours ago. Did you notice anything unusual at that time?"

After listening to her description, the ordinary-looking man in white pondered for a moment and replied with certainty, "I have seen him. He came here early this morning, received communion, and quickly returned with another nun."

Shu Ningmiao, who was examining other things, suddenly looked up at Wei Shengqianheng when she heard the last sentence.

Xiao Jiang's brows were furrowed, as if a scar was etched between them: "How is this possible?"

The clues the nun gave her were completely opposite. When she brought the body back to the orphanage, the nun told her: This man went out to buy things and never came back. Today was not the day he went to the mortuary.

—After investigating for so long, we still don't know whether the murderer is male or female, and two completely different testimonies have emerged. Who is lying?

"What does the nun you mentioned look like?"

Xiao Jiang continued to press for answers, and indeed, the nun accompanying the man was the Hermit Nun.

"Did you really see that nun beside him?" Xiao Jiang asked, unwilling to give up.

Wei Shengqianheng's voice suddenly interrupted, without even twitching his eyelashes. He seemed to be pondering something, or perhaps not thinking about anything at all, before making a decisive statement: "Our doctrine does not allow us to lie. Everything I have said and seen is true."

He emphasized the end of his sentence, nodded slightly, and walked inside unhurriedly: "Excuse me."

If this person is telling the truth, wouldn't that prove that the biggest suspect is related to the nun at the orphanage?

Xiao Jiang's eyes lit up, and he patted Zhao on the shoulder: "Come on, I know what we need to investigate?"

"What else is there to investigate?" Zhao chuckled, arms crossed. "Someone's already so angry they're dizzy and lightheaded."

Following his gaze, Xiao Jiang saw Shu Ningmiao quickly catch up with Wei Shengqianheng. Their figures were obscured by the pillars and disappeared into the corridor.

Xiao Jiang touched her chin, not daring to turn around and look at Shu Changyan's expression.

Wei Sheng Qian Heng was heading towards his resting place.

Avoiding everyone's gaze, Shu Ningmiao's last trace of politeness vanished, and she reached out to grab the collar of Wei Shengqianheng's white silk robe.

Wei Shengqianheng looked up at her without any warning, her shadow reflected in his dark, deep eyes... and the murderous aura that followed.

"Say it again," Shu Ningmiao said, enunciating each word clearly, laughing in exasperation. "Your Highness, who does not lie."

“No matter what, there is only this one answer.” Wei Shengqianheng raised his hand and gently patted the back of her hand: “They only gave me this one answer.”

He tilted his head and frowned slightly: "Besides, I didn't lie."

Because he didn't say anything at all, there were plenty of people around him who acted as his mouthpiece.

She knew it.

“The people of Pine have greeted you.”

Shu Ningmiao reached out and grabbed his chin. Her slender fingers were incredibly strong, pressing painfully against his bones: "What's the benefit of giving false testimony for the military?"

No one knew better than her who the real perpetrator of the crime was in New Territories, and that this person could not possibly be caught by an ordinary person.

Pinhes had no intention of capturing this petty thief who only killed Manla patients; their only plan was to domestically quell the Manla issue and, incidentally, use this opportunity to declare war on foreign powers, exploiting public anger to seize the representative's position.

She could figure it out even with her eyes closed.

Wei Shengqianheng closed his eyes, neither denying nor denying, which meant he was admitting it.

Shu Ningmiao pushed him away and watched him stagger and fall by the bed. Although he had a great reputation, the place where he slept was even more destitute than Weston's. There were no windows, and in the small shrine-like room, there was a simple bed with no bedding, only a thin wooden board. He was even more pitiful than a beggar on the street.

He slammed his knee against the bedside, causing the bed frame to shake for a moment, and several things fell down with a clatter.

There was a row of small figurines of various shapes, some carved from wood and some from clay. Shu Ningmiao looked up and saw that there were also several carving knives and raw materials neatly placed on the shelf, probably his usual hobby.

A dark, unlit niche, an empty bedroom except for the bed, and his only hobby was sculpting figurines.

The clay figurine fell to the ground and broke in two.

She took a deep breath, bent down to help him pick up the broken clay figurine, and casually placed it on the shelf.

Wei Shengqianheng walked up to her, cold sweat on his forehead rising and falling slightly with his breath, his pale face highlighting his almost ethereal fragility: "I won't reject them, just as I won't reject you."

He took two steps, sat down by the bed, and pulled off his gloves. The infection from Manla disease had damaged the skin tissue, making the wounds extremely difficult to heal. His hands were already ulcerated, with black, exposed flesh hanging on the white bones, a hideous and gruesome sight.

Wei Shengqianheng coughed repeatedly, as if he had been cut by a knife. His back bent over, his muscles trembled slightly, and he curled up in pain.

Shu Ningmiao glanced at him coldly; to a dying patient, her indifference was almost cruel.

She wasn't completely heartless; he just couldn't move her.

He reached out a hand and placed the clay figurine that had just been smashed on the shelf into her hand. His weak voice clearly reached her ears: "This one broke, so I'm giving it to you."

Shu Ningmiao lowered her eyes. In her palm lay a small clay bird doll broken in two, its head and body severed in the middle, stained with the black blood on her hand.

"I believe you." His fine eyelashes drooped, revealing a barely perceptible smile.

She turned and left, leaving him in the darkness.

Xiao Jiang leaned against the outside, watching the crows pecking at the roof of the shelter. When she saw her come out, he gave her a clean and bright smile. His eyes were like the sun, so open and dazzling that they could not hide any other filth.

Such a clear smile, without any other meaning, just the purest smile, made Shu Ningmiao suddenly loosen her grip on the clay figurine.

Xiao Jiang said, "The murderer is very likely the nun from the orphanage. I'll send Zhao and the others back to keep an eye on her."

"She won't run away." Shu Ningmiao looked ahead, her pupils clear and calm, opening and closing like a knife slicing through flesh and blood, piercing through inside and out.

—Because that was the real culprit that Pinheis tailored specifically for her.