Chapter 132: Clues Reemerge

The old apartment was heavy with the suffocating stench of blood. Two elderly bodies sat upright on the bed, their eyes wide open with expressions of profound terror and helplessness, as if they had witnessed some soul-shattering horror before they died.

The most striking feature of these corpses was their extreme emaciation; "skin and bones" would be an understatement. It was as if every drop of blood and every ounce of flesh had been completely drained from their bodies.

Qin Chuan frowned, stepping forward to examine them. His findings confirmed his suspicions: the flesh and blood were indeed gone. Given that the time of death was clearly less than twenty-four hours ago, it meant their bodies had been forcibly hollowed out by some sinister, specialized method while they were still alive.

"Little Brother, look above!" A deep, resonant voice came from behind. It was Long Qianqiu.

Qin Chuan looked up. On the ceiling, directly above the two corpses, was a massive, intricate pattern drawn in blood-red liquid. It resembled the talismans recorded in ancient Taoist texts. Having studied such matters in the past, Qin Chuan felt a flicker of recognition.

"Does it look familiar?" Long Qianqiu asked abruptly.

Qin Chuan nodded. It was Long Qianqiu who had led him into the study of such obscure arts, a pursuit that had earned them both a severe scolding from their master for "frivolous distractions." Clearly, his second senior brother recognized it as well.

"If I recall correctly, this should be a symbol from some form of Nanyang black magic. I can’t quite pinpoint the specifics at the moment," Qin Chuan said, pausing to glance back at the bodies. "But, judging by the state of these victims, it looks like some kind of soul-suppression seal, doesn't it?"

Long Qianqiu nodded. "That is my hypothesis as well. I have already sent the pattern to my subordinates to run through the database using big data analysis. We should have a definitive answer soon."

Qin Chuan turned to look at Long Qianqiu, puzzled. If his second senior brother already had such a competent investigative process in place, why go to the trouble of having Zhuque bring him here?

As if reading his thoughts, Long Qianqiu handed him his phone. Qin Chuan took it, but his breath hitched the moment he saw the photograph on the screen—specifically the background of the shot.

The Qin family’s ancestral home!

The setting of the photo was unmistakably the old family estate. The room was one Qin Chuan knew by heart; he had played there countless times as a child, only to be chased out by his father's feigned anger, a cycle he had repeated endlessly with joy.

On the floor of that very room in the photo, there was an identical, complex pattern—the same one currently on the ceiling. Comparing the two, Qin Chuan became certain.

He finally understood why Long Qianqiu had summoned him. The perpetrator of this bizarre case was clearly linked to those who had destroyed the Qin family years ago. Though Qin Chuan had never asked how Long Qianqiu possessed such a photo, he understood that even though he had asked his brother not to interfere in the investigation of his family’s massacre, Long Qianqiu would have been digging into it in the shadows all along. It was only natural that he would have gathered intelligence on the tragedy.

"Little Brother, don't get agitated. I only discovered the connection today," Long Qianqiu consoled him. "You kept me from interfering before because you didn't want to bring trouble upon each other, but now that the trouble has come knocking, don't blame your second brother for meddling."

Qin Chuan took a few deep breaths, steadying his turbulent emotions. "Have their identities been confirmed?"

"Yes. They were a couple who had once participated in top-secret weapons research. They lived in anonymity their entire lives. After they retired, they refused the government-allocated luxury housing, choosing instead to live a quiet, simple life. Even such a modest wish went unfulfilled."

There was a trace of sorrow in Long Qianqiu's tone, but Qin Chuan could hear the simmering rage beneath it. His brother erupted: "Damn it! I will find the mastermind, and I don't care about any regulations or protocols—I will grind them to dust the moment I find them!"

Long Qianqiu followed this with a string of profanities so colorful it made Qin Chuan roll his eyes. His brother's habit of swearing was getting worse; the fact that the special military department still referred to him as a "Confucian General" was nothing short of a farce.

Just as Qin Chuan was about to stop him, Long Qianqiu abruptly cut himself off, reciting a line of poetry: "With this, I return to the underworld to summon my old troops, with ten thousand banners to behead the King of Hell."

Qin Chuan stared at him in astonishment, ready to tease him for being pretentious, when he heard soft footsteps approaching. He finally understood why Long Qianqiu had suddenly shifted from cursing to quoting poetry.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

A moment later, there was a knock at the door. Qin Chuan opened it to find Ling Qingxue, her figure slender and her expression icy.

"Good dogs don't block the path!" she snapped.

Though she had verified that Qin Chuan’s earlier "indiscretions" in the car were mere coincidences, she still felt deeply insulted. She had never been treated that way by a man before. Anyone who had dared to entertain such thoughts—especially her enemies—had long since lost an arm or their head to her blade. Seeing Qin Chuan standing there with such a smug look only fueled her fury.

"Little Brother, let Little Xue in," Long Qianqiu called out from behind.

Qin Chuan lowered his voice. "If your temperament were as soft as your chest, you’d be much more likable."

Before she could react, he turned and walked into the room. Ling Qingxue froze for a second before the meaning of his words dawned on her.

"You Qin bastard! I’m going to kill you!"

She slammed the door shut and locked it, charging into the room like a small whirlwind. She was beyond furious. Realizing that her prized hypnosis had failed for the first time and that she had been played like a fool by Qin Chuan, she was now consumed by a desperate urge to silence him permanently.

"Little Xue, what is the meaning of this?" Long Qianqiu asked, stepping between them, bewildered.

Ling Qingxue’s face flushed red. How could she possibly explain?

"Godfather, stay out of this! Today, either this lecher dies, or I do!"

She was seething with rage, looking for all the world like a maddened little lioness.