Cheng Shuang puffed out her cheeks, completely ignoring the topic in the textbook, "So, the bride in mourning clothes actually died from having her cervical vertebrae dislocated? That's why the fishing line could so easily sever her head!"
"Hmm!" Du Jun carefully examined the painting. "All the people in the painting died by methods that were beyond human control."
"Blood was spilled on the ground without any external injuries, the chest was empty and the heart was held by the person... Each painting only showed the cause of death, but not the murderer."
"Not the murderer, more like the executioner."
Moreover, the main subjects of these portraits are all girls dressed in white mourning clothes.
“Grandpa, look at this painting.” Lianrong stood in front of another wall and said in a deep voice, “It’s the same way the bride died in that white-clothed room.”
Du Jun and Cheng Shuang also went over. They stood behind the grandfather and grandson, and handed the flashlight to the old man, so that the light source was closer to the wall, making it easier to find clues in the mottled portrait.
The portrait Lianrong pointed to showed a woman hanging in mid-air with bulging eyes and a long tongue. There was nothing on the ground for her to step on, as if she had been hoisted there alive.
"When you entered that room, was this the state of the bride in mourning?" Du Jun used his fingers to measure the distance between the ground and his toes. At this height, only two chairs could be stacked on top of each other, and the bride's head was actually very close to the roof beam.
“No, he was suddenly hoisted up while kneeling on the ground.” Lianrong shook her head. “He used a fishing line that was braided into four strands.”
"After we put her down, the wound on her neck was very deep. One thing was certain: she had been unconscious or dead for a long time. She didn't struggle at all while hanging from the roof beam," the old man recalled. "The other end of the fishing line was buried under the low table where the offerings were placed. The rescue took some time, and I was almost mistaken for a murderer by the village chief and cornered in the room. When I returned to that room, the body and the low table had all been moved away, and only the memorial tablet was still in the middle."
“The low table was covered with a wedding cloth, concealing the space beneath. It would be easy to hide any traps or mechanisms there; the stone offerings might even be part of one of them. No matter how many candles there are, the brightness wouldn't be enough, and the fishing line is transparent, making it very easy to miss.” Cheng Shuang muttered to herself, combining the clues she found in the ancestral hall, “Could these brides in mourning clothes be chosen victims of a curse? Under the power of the curse, they should already be dead, but the villagers, fearing legal responsibility, pushed outsiders out as scapegoats… No, that's not right. In an era where they dared to openly use vigilante justice, would they need to find scapegoats?”
The old man answered the little girl's question, "Yes. The law won't be biased, but people will." When the cause of death is too unbelievable, it's natural to use scientific explanations to appease people.
"There's something else quite strange," Cheng Shuang said, looking at the three of them. "How come the village chief and the master of ceremonies are both here at the same time?"
“They’re not the same person.” Lianrong immediately denied this claim. “They should be brothers with the same surname.” She gestured to her eyes with her finger. “I’m good at recognizing people. Although they are similar in appearance, tone of voice, and mannerisms, they are definitely not the same person. At least the village chief who came out this morning was not the one who tried to frame me and my grandfather last night.”
“The same logic applies; the emcee wouldn’t be a single person.” The little girl felt a chill run down her spine when she thought of the emcee’s fine, sharp teeth. “I’ve heard that the emcee would bite off the head of anyone who didn’t drink.”
She spoke to the old man and the young man, as an exchange of information provided by Lianrong earlier.
The old man nodded. "When I was scouting the way, I encountered villagers dragging a corpse. The man's head was gone."
"They carried the body up the mountain."
Cheng Shuang clicked her tongue, "Did they throw it off the cliff again? What did the cliff do to deserve this? It's got a whole bunch of murder cases on its head."
The little girl loves to imitate the tone of adults, especially when she frowns and pretends to be deep. Even with her delicate and pretty face, she can't help but add some comedic effect to herself.
Lianrong had seen Du Jun pat her head before, and now she was eager to try it herself, wanting to break her old-man-like pretense.
Fortunately, she held back; one should be even more careful about the boundaries in a casual encounter.
Finding no other clues in the small temple, the group came out.
Cheng Shuang lifted the fallen door panel and shoved it against the door frame, barely managing to make it stand up. The little girl clapped her hands, turned around to leave, but then suddenly turned back.
Du Jun, who was waiting for her, frowned slightly, took two steps closer to the door panel, put on rubber gloves, and gently peeled off the paint that was already peeling off the outer layer of the door panel bit by bit.
The old man and the young man, who had already walked a few steps, turned back when they saw that no one was following. They just happened to see Du Jun pull out a silk handkerchief from the door panel. Apart from some dampness and then drying marks, the handkerchief was in pretty good condition.
The handkerchief was embroidered with a picture of a man whose face was covered by a half-mask with a mouth full of fine, sharp teeth, and a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl in a green wedding dress, embracing each other.
"Wait, wait, let me catch my breath!" Lianrong rubbed her head and gasped, "Could the emcee be the groom?"
“But the rooster is here.” Cheng Shuang was short, and with a slight tilt of her head, she could see a corner of the back of the handkerchief, where a large rooster with its chest out and head held high was embroidered, with lively eyes. It was obviously a live rooster.
“The groom is definitely not the master of ceremonies,” Du Jun said. “There’s no need for the villagers to hide the groom’s identity from us. The master of ceremonies may be undertaking a different kind of responsibility.”
"Besides, in a twin village, both men and women should have twins, so why did only the girl die tragically?" Cheng Shuang asked, puzzled. She took the handkerchief, turned it over, and examined it carefully. "This morning, the male-to-female ratio in the village seemed normal!"
The old man recalled, "It was normal, but there were no young people or children."
"If it's not that he can't get out of bed, then he's deliberately not showing up." The little girl's gaze was fixed on the four corners of the front of the handkerchief. "Is this a pattern?"
"Hmm, small white flowers." Lianrong leaned closer to take a look, then handed the handkerchief to Du Jun and the old man so they could confirm it.
"It probably doesn't mean anything." The old man glanced at the watch, then looked down at his watch to calculate the time. "Let's go back to the village! Otherwise, we'll run into the villagers coming down the mountain."
The group nodded in agreement, taking advantage of the gap before the villagers came down the mountain to wander around the village.
On the way back to the village, Cheng Shuang submitted her answer to the question, 'What was the tool that killed the bride?' The tool doesn't always refer to a specific object; if used skillfully, even a piece of paper can become a murder weapon, as can gossip. But what killed the bride was the power of a curse.
A mechanical voice announced, "[Congratulations, player! You have successfully solved the central mystery and obtained half a fishing line sharp enough to cut anything. This fishing line can only be used in this instance.]"
Du Jun and Cheng Shuang each took half of the fishing line, and both of them naturally received the reward of being able to use the sharp fishing line upon entering the dungeon.
From another perspective, if the natives are managed properly, they could very well achieve unparalleled success in the dungeon.
In reality, how many people need to use games to escape life or release stress? Dungeons are more exciting than games, and the sensory experience is 100% immersive. You don't have to worry about dying, and you can experience different identities and backgrounds.
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