Chapter 038: The Hammer Demon Case (Seven)

October 18th, just as dawn broke.

The villagers of Xidi Village were busy with their usual chores, none of them noticing anything amiss at the small general store. It was not until the old man’s daughter returned home and pulled back the quilt that she discovered her father dead in bed, his face sallow and his head covered in blood. Her terrified screams drew the villagers, who promptly called the police.

However, by the time the Xiping police cast their net to search for the suspect, the short man had already boarded a bus and fled to the neighboring Hui County. By then, he had transformed into a cold-blooded animal devoid of humanity, evading police pursuit while scouting for his next target.

That afternoon, he took a bus to Guanwangmiao Township. Upon alighting, fearing that carrying an octagonal hammer would arouse suspicion, he found a pile of firewood in a secluded spot not far from the station and hid the tool inside. It was the peak of the autumn harvest; the countryside was swarming with busy people, and the short man blended into the crowd like a ticking time bomb, walking and observing with a feigned air of indifference. In Guanwangmiao, he spotted a small shop at the northeast corner of an intersection.

The shop had two entrances, one facing west and the other south, both secured with iron gates. He surmised that this shop was much larger than the one he had robbed in Xidi Village and must be quite lucrative. What drew his attention even more was that the shop was tended by two young women. He locked onto this target in his mind. However, a clinic stood not far to the east, which made him hesitate, fearing he might be discovered during the act.

He soon convinced himself, "Just be ruthless when you strike, and there won't be any trouble."

He rested in a threshing floor until around midnight, then retrieved the octagonal hammer from the woodpile and headed straight for his target.

During the harvest season, rural folk sleep particularly soundly at night. When the short man reached the back of the shop, the lights were out. Because the weather was still warm, the glass windows were open, covered only by a curtain. He listened carefully through the window; apart from the sound of light snoring, there was nothing else. He concluded that the occupants were fast asleep. The shop had three rooms and two windows; hearing the snoring coming from the north window, he knew that was their bedroom.

Taking advantage of the cover of darkness, he climbed through the window. In the northeast corner of the room stood a Simmons bed occupied by three people. It appeared the older sister was sleeping on the outer edge, the younger sister on the inside, and a three- or four-year-old boy in the middle. The sister was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and her sibling about fifteen or sixteen. They were fast asleep, completely unaware of the demon’s arrival.

The short man first searched for money, finding two thousand yuan in a drawer. He thought that a shop this size must have more elsewhere, but he feared staying too long would wake them. He swung the iron hammer, striking the older sister two or three times.

At that moment, the younger sister woke up, screaming, "Help! Murder!" The child began to wail.

"Crying? I'll show you crying!" The short man raised his hammer and struck, knocking both the younger sister and the child unconscious.

Just then, his fears were realized: the doctor at the clinic to the east heard the shouting, scrambled out of bed, and ran out shouting, "Who's there? What's going on?" He shone his flashlight toward the shop, the beam nearly catching the short man.

Terrified, the short man—who was vicious while killing, yet possessed a fundamentally weak and cowardly spirit—panicked. Like a bat that could not bear the light, he could only skulk in dark corners, shivering at the slightest hint of resistance. He scrambled out the west door in a panic and dived into the cornfield opposite the shop. Guided by the flashlight beam, the doctor saw a figure run from the shop into the fields. Realizing a robbery had occurred, he rushed inside.

Upon entering, he saw the two women and the boy covered in blood. The cash drawer in the north room had been pried open and emptied. He rushed to call for help and reported the crime to the police. The wail of sirens shattered the peace of the small village. The short man ran for miles, only stopping when the sound of the police cars faded away.

...

It was past twelve, and a long line still snaked through the cafeteria.

Qi Wei patted her stomach and complained, "Oh, if I had known the line would be this long, I would have come earlier."

Wen Rou smiled and comforted her, "We're here now, so stop complaining and just wait."

Li Rui stood silently at the back of the line, saying nothing.

Qi Wei turned her head and asked, "Forensic Pathologist Li, what are you thinking about?"

Hearing this, Wen Rou also turned and said, "Li Rui, don't think about cases during your off-hours. You need to balance work and rest; don't wear yourself out."

Li Rui’s gaze drifted past the long queue, landing on the swaying parasol trees outside the cafeteria window. The dappled shadows cast fine, fragmented light across his face, making his already sharp features appear even colder.

"I'm thinking about that little girl," he said, his voice so soft it was nearly drowned out by the noise of the cafeteria. "I wonder what she had for her last meal."

Qi Wei’s smile froze, and her fingers tightened involuntarily around her tray. Wen Rou sighed softly, her eyes falling on Li Rui’s slightly trembling fingertips—a professional tic from years of gripping a scalpel, though now it seemed he was suppressing something else.

The line moved slowly, but Li Rui seemed elsewhere. His gaze pierced through the crowd, as if he had returned to that cold, grim autopsy room. The residue in the little girl's stomach showed that her last meal had been nothing more than half a cold steamed bun.

"Li Rui," Wen Rou called out softly, "let's eat first. We have a meeting in the afternoon."

He finally snapped back to reality. As he took his tray, his fingertips brushed against Wen Rou’s. The warmth reminded him of the little girl's icy wrists, and his stomach lurched.

"You two go ahead," he said, setting his tray on the nearest empty table. "I'm going to the restroom."

Watching his somewhat hurried departure, Qi Wei muttered, "If he keeps going like this, his health will collapse."

Wen Rou looked in the direction Li Rui had gone, her expression complex. "Some people carry the suffering of others within themselves." She picked up her tray. "Come on, let’s save him a seat."

After returning from the restroom, Li Rui sat down to find his tray already filled with food—all of it vegetarian. It was clearly Wen Rou’s doing.

Though he was a veteran forensic expert, it did not mean he was immune to physical reactions. Nausea, loss of appetite, and insomnia had plagued him for years. Li Rui stood motionless before the table for a moment; the grassy scent of stir-fried broccoli mixed with the cafeteria’s lingering smell of cooking oil. He stared at the neatly arranged vegetables on his tray, suddenly recalling the instant noodle seasoning packet found in the little girl’s stomach during yesterday’s autopsy—the red oil stain had shone with an eerie light under the autopsy lamp.

"Pathologist Li!" Lei Chen sat down with a thud, his tray piled high with braised pork, his stainless-steel chopsticks clattering against the bowl. "We just screened three guys at the quarry with prior records for theft and robbery. And guess what? They’re all Type B blood, every damn one of them!"

His cheeks were puffed out, and grease dripped from the corner of his mouth. Wen Rou frowned and pushed a tissue toward him. "Speak slowly, don't choke."

Seeing this, Li Rui hesitated briefly, then lowered his head and poked at his rice with the tips of his chopsticks. Wen Rou, catching sight of his mouth from the corner of her eye, allowed a faint, barely perceptible smile to touch her lips.

As his rice grains traced messy paths across the porcelain plate, Li Rui asked, "Have you checked the purchase records for the octagonal hammer?"

"I was just about to tell you that," Lei Chen wiped his mouth and pulled a crumpled notebook from his pocket. "Hardware stores across the city have sold 217 of them in the last three years. The internal procurement records for the quarry show..."