After dinner, we visited Lotus Pond Park. On the night before the Mid-Autumn Festival, there were many visitors in the park. By the road were vendors offering their wares. I heard there would be a large-scale 3D fountain show tonight–Chang’e Flies To The Moon.
Bingxin eagerly bought a bunch of snacks while we strolled the park. "I really envy you,” sighed Xiaotao. “You can eat all you want, yet you won’t gain any weight. Everything I eat goes to my breasts and butt."
“Hmph, all you do is show off!” Bingxin made a face at Xiaotao. When she turned around, Wang Yuanchao and Song Xingchen had disappeared. I wasn’t too worried about them. The two quiet men preferred spending their time away from all the bustle and excitement.
Droves of tourists flooded the park. Bingxin held my hand for fear of losing me in the crowd. At the same time, my other hand was clasped with Xiaotao’s. Our odd trio attracted many curious looks from people trying to guess our relationship.
Xiaotao asked, "Do you regret not being born in ancient times? That way you can marry two wives?"
"Oh, stop it, you know you’re the only one in my heart. Besides, the ancients didn’t practice polygamy. Strictly speaking, a man could only have one wife but many concubines. Additionally, there were many rules. The wife must have given birth to a child before a concubine is approved."
Upon hearing the word ‘concubine,’ Bingxin protested, "What are you talking about? I'm no concubine! I’m Song Yang-gege’s childhood sweetheart. Once you’re married and have kids, you’ll turn into an old, sallow-faced woman but a childhood sweetheart will always stay perfect in his memory."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” scoffed Xiaotao. “Do you know what being a childhood sweetheart means? You’ll never be ‘promoted’ to wife!"
"Marriage is the tomb for love, the end of your feelings as you know it!" retorted Bingxin.
"Oh, can’t you two get along nicely? Is that so hard?" I grumbled.
Hooking her arm with mine, Bingxin said, "Song Yang-gege, here’s a serious question. If Xiaotao-jiejie and I were drowning, who would you save?"
"Yes, I have long wanted to ask this question as well." Xiaotao pulled my arm.
"Um..." Looking at their serious expressions, I knew I’d be stepping into a minefield. I hesitated for a moment and somehow managed to dodge the bullet. "Look, there’s a magic show in front. Let's go and have a look."
"Don’t change the subject!" shouted the girls.
I nodded, "Shall we head back to the hotel then? I would love to take a shower. I’m drenched in sweat!"
"No, I want to watch the fountain show!" pouted Bingxin.
"Well, since we’re here, we might as well stay for the show!" agreed Xiaotao.
We headed to the lotus pond to watch the 3D fountain show which was actually a CG animation prepared in advance projected onto the water curtain. The girls were absorbed in the dreamlike show as the water curtain danced to the lights.
While watching the show, I couldn’t help but share a little bit about the folklore. "In fact, the earliest version of the story ended with Chang 'e turning into a toad after swallowing the elixir. The story was gradually beautified after the Han Dynasty."
"Thanks for sharing that,” said Xiaotao. “I’ve learned something new today.”
“How unromantic,” chuckled Bingxin.
Right then, a scream tore through the night. "Ahhh, there’s a dead body!"
The audience turned back to watch the excitement while we rushed towards the source of the screams. When we arrived, Wang Yuanchao and Song Xingchen were already there. Signs of inebriation colored Wang Yuanchao’s face. It seemed he had gone elsewhere to drink.
The body was blatantly hung from a tree, dressed in a white Tang Dynasty costume with a Futou on his head, though the wing-like flaps on the back were drooping downwards.
The victim’s right arm was raised, his hand tied to a glass with a metal wire. Its position happened to fall right between two street lamps, projecting two shadows on the ground.
"Till, raising my cup, I asked the bright moon, to bring me my shadow and make us three," I recited.
The entire scene vividly expressed the poem. The only fly in the ointment was the plastic film wrapped around the corpse. If it was removed, the graceful attire could be better appreciated.
Flashing her badge, Xiaotao shouted at the passers-by, "Police! Please move away from the crime scene!"
I went around the back and found the body was tied to the canopy by two ropes. The murderer hung up the body in advance and cut one of the ropes so the body would be exposed.
"The murderer hasn’t gone far! Song Xingchen, Wang Yuanchao, look for him!" I ordered.
Song Xingchen and Wang Yuanchao’s men spread out in different directions. Meanwhile, Bingxin contacted the police. Due to the crowd, it wasn’t convenient to lower the body at the moment. There was no way I could perform an autopsy in public.
The three of us stood there, hindering curious onlookers from approaching. During this time, eager onlookers raised an onslaught of stupid questions.
"Did this man commit suicide?"
"Is this some sort of performance?"
I gave no comment at all.
Five minutes later, Song Xingchen returned and blurted a series of numbers as soon as he opened his mouth.
"Is this the murderer’s license plate number?” I asked.
"I'm not sure. The van left the parking lot in a hurry so I noted the license plate."
"Good job!"
When Captain Tang arrived, the officers sealed off the road, cordoned the area and dispersed the masses. Only then did we lower the body for the autopsy.
"Oh no, a bunch of tourists took some photos. I don’t know if we can keep things under wraps," said Xiaotao.
"We’ll use the authority of the special team and get Sina to these posts!"
"I guess that’s the best option," sighed Xiaotao.
The victim was a male and under the age of thirty. Judging from the degree of muscle rigidity, the time of death was three days ago. The murderer had improved by leaps and bounds after the first two hands-on “training" sessions.
The clothes were new and covered with some sort powder, perhaps chalk dust.
This confirmed my conjecture that the murderer was a teacher. The Mid-Autumn Festival holiday started the next day. The murderer seemed eager to dispose of the corpse and got to it immediately after class. Bingxin was in charge of extracting the fingerprints from the victim’s clothes. Instead of removing the robes entirely, we cut off parts of the cloth stained with chalk dust and placed them in evidence bags.
After processing the clothes, Bingxin pointed, "Song Yang-gege, look!"
A piece of skin had been gouged out of the victim’s arm. The surrounding skin had turned pale and curled up around the wound, suggesting the victim had been scalded by hot water. The missing skin seemed to resemble some sort of pattern. I was suddenly reminded of the waiter’s testimony.
Turning to Captain Tang, I said, "There’s no need to look for Zhang Wei. This is our guy!"
Drinking Alone Under The Moon by Li Bai as translated by Witter Bynner.