"After the short-bearded man finished speaking, he turned and headed towards a corner of the alleyway where iron plates were piled everywhere. Of course, I immediately followed. At the time, I was extremely confused by their appearance, wondering why they had dressed like that. Was it to avoid suspicion? I had no choice but to follow them, hoping to find answers later."
"They led me onward, through a dark path, and brought me into a factory. This place was covered in rubble, surrounded by withered yellow grass. It must have been quite a distance from the city center. Looking at the environment, I couldn't see any buildings around, and there were no lights. To be honest, I was quite scared then, even thinking of escaping, but they grabbed me and dealt a heavy blow to my neck..."
Had we not heard Yi Chengwen's account, we would never have known the extent of what had transpired behind the scenes.
After the interrogation, I felt the case was far from over. Yi Chengwen was just one member of the Dark Night Forest, but to prevent such incidents, eradicating the association was the only true solution.
Once Yi Chengwen had finished recounting everything, I continued, "Do you still remember the location of that factory?"
"Uh, this, let me think..." Liu Yuning and I waited anxiously.
"Ah, I remember, the factory is located at..." As he spoke, Yi Chengwen's eyes, for some inexplicable reason, filled with blood. His body trembled violently, as if something were rising in his throat. Simultaneously, his back convulsed severely. I sensed something was wrong and immediately stood up from my seat, rushing to his side.
I firmly pressed his shoulders, "What's wrong? Yi Chengwen!"
"Ah! My throat hurts terribly! It feels like it's burning!"
"Wait a moment, I'll call the medical personnel!" I was about to pick up my phone to dial when, the next second, Yi Chengwen's neck appeared to be literally burning. It turned completely red, then his shoulders felt intensely hot. I quickly withdrew my hands and stepped back a few paces. Yi Chengwen's body, as if self-immolating, began to burn before our eyes!
Liu Yuning exclaimed in astonishment, standing up, "How can this be?"
I watched as Yi Chengwen's entire body caught fire, even the interrogation chair beneath him began to burn.
Dark smoke billowed from him, and murky black gas seeped from the crevices of his features. His hair straightened out, his teeth collapsed one by one, his clothes instantly incinerated, and with a series of crackling sounds, even his bones were not spared. It is known that ordinary flames struggle to burn human bones, unless the temperature is extremely high, akin to that of a crematorium.
It was terrifying. By the time I reacted and called for medical personnel, it was too late. Where Yi Chengwen had been, only a charred corpse remained, thick black smoke still emanating from its form.
Simultaneously, a very famous poem appeared on the wall behind him: "Amidst seasons of change, flowers weep tears; in sorrowful parting, birds cry with hearts. Beacon fires rage through successive months; a letter from home is worth ten thousand gold."
I stared at the words on the wall in horror. It wasn't just me; Liu Yuning and everyone present were utterly shocked. The characters were twisted and unnaturally red, as if someone had bitten their own finger and written them on the wall.
But this was an interrogation room. How could anyone have entered and left these markings? It was utterly bizarre, virtually impossible!
One had to pass through dozens of police offices to reach the interrogation room, which was sealed, with numerous detectives guarding it from the outside.
Considering the poem on the wall, "Amidst seasons of change, flowers weep tears; in sorrowful parting, birds cry with hearts," which originally personified flowers and birds, lamenting the nation's fragmentation and the difficulties of state affairs, implying that even the flowers and birds of Chang'an wept and trembled with anxiety. The author, through flowers and birds, wrote of spring, conveying the sorrow of witnessing events and feeling personal sadness, expressing the grief of a lost nation and separation, and reflecting his patriotic sentiments. But its use here, could it mean Yi Chengwen died a tragic death?
"Beacon fires rage through successive months; a letter from home is worth ten thousand gold." The original meaning refers to the unrest and continuous warfare in the country, leading to separated families and lost communication. In such times, receiving a letter from home was particularly precious. The poet indirectly reflected the immense suffering caused by war and the urgent desire of people to know if their loved ones were safe during times of turmoil. What could it mean when applied to Yi Chengwen?
One possibility I could imagine was that his family was unaware of his current predicament!
However, "family" here likely didn't refer to Yi Chengwen's blood relatives, but rather to people within the Dark Night Forest.
If this logic held, then the one who left this poem was likely Yi Chengwen himself.
He did this to express his tragic situation. If I wasn't mistaken, ever since he entered the interrogation room, he had been contemplating suicide.
Finally, the last two lines of this poem, "Spring Prospect," were: "My white hair, scratched, grows shorter; I feel I can barely wear a hairpin."
It wasn't until I read these lines that I noticed Yi Chengwen's temples had turned white.
I remembered that when I first met him, he appeared to be middle-aged. How could he have changed so drastically in just a few days?
Was it due to the immense psychological pressure of knowing we suspected him?
Some might dismiss the idea of turning white overnight as exaggeration, but such a phenomenon has a scientific basis. Medically speaking, it can be caused by severe emotional shock, extreme anxiety, depression, or anger during a state of emergency, leading to spasms in the blood vessels supplying the hair, resulting in white hair.
This line of poetry was entirely a description of Yi Chengwen's own situation. However, comparing his circumstances to Du Fu's, wasn't he being a bit presumptuous?
I voiced all my thoughts, and Liu Yuning exclaimed, "What a literary fanatic! Did he want to scare us even in death?"
"What puzzles me is how he managed it," I mused, then pulled out the invisible reflection tube and began probing everywhere. Along the way, I also used seaweed ash and yellow wine, but the bloody characters quickly disappeared.
It was too strange. I was so startled at the time that I thought I was hallucinating.
Liu Yuning rubbed his eyes, "How could this happen? Did you all see that?"
If one person made a mistake, it could be a misperception, but there were many people in the interrogation room at that moment. They all confirmed that the writing on the wall had indeed vanished. Fortunately, I had taken photos; otherwise, there wouldn't even be evidence left behind.
When Ling Xiaotao and a few forensic examiners arrived, they began analyzing the remains. However, they could only collect the remaining skin and flesh from the scene. Even the interrogation chair was severely damaged. Everyone collected its fragments and took them away. All that remained in the interrogation chair's place was a pool of blood.