23. The Blood Coffin
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Fang Qinghe said that the killer Chen Mu—the man who looked exactly like me—was dead. I shuddered at once, because I had clearly seen him with my own eyes. Could it be that what I had seen was merely a vengeful ghost?
He had seemed so bizarre and twisted, his methods so sinister and terrifying, that he had hardly appeared human at all.
But under Jin Ze’s influence, I had become a fairly staunch atheist. Every case that initially seemed to involve ghosts or other supernatural forces had ultimately received a scientific explanation.
So I immediately said to Fang Qinghe, “No, Chief Fang, you’ve got it wrong. That man really isn’t dead. I’ve seen him more than once.”
By then, I felt I had finally understood Fang Qinghe’s situation. There was now a reasonable explanation for every suspicious thing he had done before: the killer Chen Mu had deliberately tried to make us suspect Fang Qinghe. Since that was the case, I saw no reason to keep anything from him any longer.
I continued, “Chief Fang, I’m telling the truth. It wasn’t just me who saw him—Jin Ze saw him too. And there’s Jiang Haodong. He actually came looking for me before. In fact, he was the first person to discover that Chen Mu existed.”
Fang Qinghe froze when he heard this. I imagined he had guessed that we had concealed something from him, but he certainly had not expected us to have hidden so much.
Still, Fang Qinghe possessed extraordinary self-control. He showed little emotion and simply said, “Chen Mu, I can’t determine whether what you’re saying is true, but there is one thing I can say with certainty: the killer Chen Mu is dead. He was executed.”
I had no idea why Fang Qinghe was so certain. Curious, I asked, “Did you see it yourself? If you don’t believe me, you can ask Jin Ze.”
Fang Qinghe nodded. “There’s no mistake. And it was the oldest form of execution—beheading.”
My heart gave a violent thump. I had never imagined that secret executions still employed such an obsolete method as decapitation. Then I remembered the headless videos I had seen on more than one occasion. When I connected all of that together, a chill ran down my spine, and I felt deeply uneasy.
But I was unwilling to believe that a beheaded man could still seek revenge, so I could not help asking, “Chief Fang, could there be a second person who looks exactly like me, someone pretending to be the killer Chen Mu? Or perhaps the criminal you executed was actually a substitute for the killer Chen Mu?”
Fang Qinghe waved his hand lightly. “That’s not possible. How likely is it for two people in this world to look exactly alike? We compared your DNA with the killer Chen Mu’s and made an astonishing discovery: the two of you are virtually identical genetically. In other words, you’re twins—identical twins. There was no plastic surgery involved, so there’s no question of a substitute.”
Hearing this, I had no choice but to reconsider Jin Ze’s earlier deductions. He had been right. Chen Mu and I really were brothers, and not merely brothers—we were identical twins. It seemed this truly was a conspiracy that had been laid out more than twenty years ago.
Although I knew nothing about genetics, I still could not help asking Fang Qinghe, “Chief Fang, could we have been identical triplets? That other person really exists—unless he’s a ghost.”
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Fang Qinghe said, “In theory, it’s possible. But the odds of identical triplets are one in two hundred million. Do you think that’s plausible?”
After hearing him say that, I felt it did sound rather unlikely. If triplets like that had ever been born, the media would probably have reported it long ago.
Fang Qinghe quickly continued, “Chen Mu, your brain is more resilient than we imagined. Professor He said you shouldn’t have been able to withstand these memories, which is why we never dared tell you any of this. We were afraid that your three personalities would start fighting inside your mind again and leave you with cerebral palsy. But now it seems you’re handling it quite well. We should have taken the risk sooner. If we had, you might not have fallen into the abyss of sin.”
Fang Qinghe clearly still did not believe me. He must have thought I was lying and that those crimes had all been committed by my twisted Chen Mu personality.
To be honest, for a brief moment I even wondered whether my deranged personality really had committed everything, then deliberately misled Jin Ze and Jiang Haodong. So I tried to recall the twisted Chen Mu personality in my mind, along with the soldier personality.
The moment I summoned all three personalities at once, my mind exploded with a thunderous roar. It was as if a tsunami had struck. My brain rumbled violently, and darkness pulsed before my eyes.
Beads of sweat poured down my forehead. I thought I was about to become brain-damaged, just as Fang Qinghe had warned. But soon I violently shook my head, and suddenly I regained consciousness.
Once I came to, my mind felt clearer than it ever had before. I still could not remember everything that had happened to me, but I could recall the events that had already taken place—especially those of recent times. And I did not merely remember them; I could distinguish which of my personalities had done what.
More precisely, I could tell which events truly belonged to me, which had been committed by the twisted personality I used when impersonating the killer Chen Mu, and which had been committed by the gentle personality I used when impersonating him.
With my thoughts finally so clear, I at last understood why Fang Qinghe had previously allowed Jiang Haodong, Gao Bing, and the others to obey my orders directly.
Once I returned to my true self—to the part of me that was a soldier—I was formidable in my own right. I could switch between different modes of thought at will and assume different versions of Chen Mu. Solving crimes was like fighting a war: circumstances changed in an instant, and sometimes there was no time to report to Fang Qinghe. It was therefore necessary for them to follow my orders.
But that applied only to the normal me. I imagined Fang Qinghe must have instructed them long ago. Or perhaps he had always held out hope for me and never truly believed that my twisted personality would emerge again to harm people. He had told Jiang Haodong and the others to follow my orders simply to prevent my soldier personality from resurfacing and issuing commands, making strategic decisions, and causing them to miss some crucial opportunity.
As I was thinking this, Fang Qinghe suddenly asked, “Chen Mu, have you recovered? Your eyes are showing me that excellent young man again.”
There was no denying that Fang Qinghe’s powers of observation were extraordinary. I had only just begun to sense the change myself, yet he had noticed it immediately.
I nodded. “I’ve recovered some of my memories. But I can assure you that I didn’t commit these crimes. There really is another person who looks exactly like me. Whether he’s human or a ghost, he exists.”
Fang Qinghe suddenly trusted me much more. He immediately released me and let me stand, then made a phone call. He was probably arranging for someone to deal with Professor He’s body—not ordinary police officers, but people from their national security agency.
After that, Fang Qinghe took me somewhere familiar: the Chen Mu Research Center.
Fang Qinghe said that the killer Chen Mu had been an extraordinarily serious criminal. Even after being executed by firing squad, his body had not been cremated. Instead, it had been sealed away in secret. His physical characteristics might still prove useful in determining certain matters in the future.
If he had not been so twisted and so terrifyingly capable, they might not have beheaded him at all. They might have continued to imprison him until the Avenger case was solved.
It seemed that being too talented and too exceptional was not necessarily a good thing. Sometimes it only meant dying sooner.
The killer Chen Mu’s remains had been placed on the lowest level of the Chen Mu Research Center. Beneath the research center was another floor containing a morgue.
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Fang Qinghe took me down there. To ensure our safety, he loaded bullets into his gun and chambered a round.
We soon entered the morgue. It was not very large. A short distance away stood a transparent coffin, but it was no longer transparent. The inside was a deep, bloody red, as though the entire coffin were filled with blood. I could not help shuddering.
What the hell? I thought. They’re soaking the corpse in blood even after death? It must be some kind of chemical preservative designed to keep the body from decomposing.
Just then, Fang Qinghe pointed his gun at the coffin and warned me, “Chen Mu, be careful. This coffin wasn’t like this before. It was vacuum-sealed, and the killer Chen Mu’s head and body were sealed inside.”
My heart leapt into my throat. There really was something strange going on.
Fang Qinghe slowly approached the blood-filled coffin, and I stayed close behind him. My heart pounded so hard it felt as if it were about to leap out of my throat. Although I had recovered some of the memories that truly belonged to my soldier self, I was still somewhat timid. I had not suddenly become invincible. Once certain things are lost, they are truly difficult to recover.
Fang Qinghe kept his gun trained on the coffin. I immediately caught the strong stench of blood. There really was blood inside—and it was fresh.
Fang Qinghe was just preparing to examine the blood and determine whether anything was inside, whether the beheaded killer Chen Mu was truly in the coffin, when something horrifying happened. Even Fang Qinghe, who had witnessed countless extraordinary situations, could not help taking a step backward.
In that instant, the blood inside the coffin suddenly began to churn. Then, with a violent surge, someone rose from within it.
The figure was covered in blood. More terrifying still, it had no head.
No—that was wrong. He did have a head.
He was holding it in his hand!
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