July 30, 9pm.
A black Jetta driving from the suburbs back to the city.
Because Jiang Nan'an suggested that the abandoned amusement park was likely the source of a series of problems, the two went directly to the amusement park.
Indeed, as Ruan Ruan, that is, as Luo Yanyan told them on the hotline, the amusement park is not big, and the valuable things in it have been demolished by 70 to 80%, and the remaining buildings and facilities are also Very dilapidated due to disrepair.
Beiquan and Jiang Nan'an spent half a day sifting through the entire amusement park, but they couldn't find anything suspicious.
There were no ghosts and resentful ghosts entrenched in it, and there was no sign of being cursed. Beiquan even let Guan Hu Suying out and ran around, but he couldn't find any trace of the ghost inside.
Beiquan and Jiang Nan'an didn't even find the fallen Miuya, Wang Jialin's soul, near the Ferris wheel.
After all, this abandoned amusement park now looks like an open space poured with concrete. Except for the weeds drilled from the cracks, there are not even two small trees that are not as tall as people.
In a place like this, even if the resentful ghost, the ghost, had been exposed to the sun for half a year in such an open and unobstructed place, it should have been wiped out, and the soul of Miuya could not be found. Beiquan was not surprised at all.
No matter what the situation was in the past, at the very least, now, it's just a wasteland with nothing special.
On the way back, Jiang Nan'an was obviously a little frustrated.
Originally, he was quite confident in his reasoning, and felt that this time he would be able to perform well in front of Beiquan, which would be a good start.
But Jiang Nan'an almost turned over the land of the abandoned amusement park, but couldn't find any evidence to prove his reasoning.
"Ugh!"
On the way back, Jiang Nan'an had a sullen expression.
"Beiquan, since there is no problem with the amusement park, where should we start our investigation?"
Beiquan turned his head and glanced at Comrade Xiao Jiang.
Regarding this case, as far as the current clues are concerned, Beiquan is actually not sure.
But since there is no problem with the place, it is always right to start with the people involved.
"I don't know if Zhu Ling found Luo Yanyan."
Beiquan paused and tapped the window glass with his finger, "Also, I have a suggestion..."
He smiled at Jiang Nan'an, then looked down at his watch:
"Anyway, it's still early, let's go to 'meet' Mo Fan first."
"Mo Fan" in Beiquan's mouth is the second anchor who committed suicide after Miuya.
Mo Fan committed suicide in the middle of December last year, and it has been more than half a year since then.
The reason why Beiquan suggested starting from this person is because among the four people who have committed suicide, only this person died in Fengxing City, and it happened to be in a bathroom with relatively heavy yin and filth, so the soul could be preserved. chances are slightly higher.
The information collected by Zhu Ling shows that after Mo Fan terminated the contract with the live broadcast platform, he found a very ordinary e-commerce sales position in a private company. Live on.
However, on December 14 last year, Mo Fan suddenly committed suicide.
At that time, Mo Fan shared an apartment with a good colleague in the company, and when he committed suicide, the colleague happened to be on a business trip, so it was not until three days after Mo Fan's death that the colleague who came back from the business trip found his body in the bathroom.
Fortunately, the temperature in Fengxing City was low at that time, and the corpse was not badly decomposed, so that the poor innocent colleague was not frightened by a heart attack on the spot.
But of course no one wants to continue living in the house where the murder happened, and the small apartment has been left empty, and there are no new tenants so far.
Beiquan remembers the address and does not need a key.
He instructed Jiang Nan'an to drive the car directly to the downstairs of the apartment, opened the door with ease, and went directly to the fifth floor.
Room 503 had been vacant for half a year, and a thin layer of ash had fallen on the security door.
Beiquan grabbed the door handle and pressed it down.
"Crack."
The door slammed open.
Beiquan raised his chin towards his new partner, Jiang Nan'an immediately understood, and the two entered the room silently.
Jiang Nan'an reached out and touched the light switch. When he pressed it, the light didn't turn on. Obviously, the house had been idle for too long, so he simply turned on the switch.
So he took out his phone and turned on the backlight flashlight function.
The two quickly found the bathroom where Mo Fan committed suicide.
The bathroom was clean and tidy, and there was no indication that someone had died in it.
However, both Beiquan and Jiang Nan'an opened their eyes, and immediately saw a pale gray figure curled up in the corner.
The energy of that group of shadows is already very weak, so weak that it can barely maintain a vague human shape, but no facial features can be seen.
For such a little devil, Beiquan didn't even need to draw a talisman at all, he could break it up with just a few tricks.
But even if they couldn't see the facial features clearly, Beiquan and Jiang Nan'an knew that this poor and helpless little ghost in the bathroom could only be Mo Fan, the former anchor who committed suicide by cutting his wrists.
"Oh, so pitiful."
Jiang Nan'an on the side sighed:
"There is only one soul left, and I have to stay in the mortal world and refuse to enter the reincarnation. I am afraid that I have a wish unfulfilled..."
He touched his chin:
"Or, is there any grievances that have not been brought?"
With that said, Jiang Nan'an looked at Beiquan:
"Speaking of which, Beiquan, you should be able to do some kind of magic, right?"
Jiang Nan'an has practiced Shaolin Kungfu from a young age, and he can almost be described as "knowing nothing" about spells such as talismans and mantras.
He heard from his master that Beiquan was a master apprentice in the secret realm of Zhuling, and his magic was very good. In addition to curiosity and longing, he had been looking forward to seeing Beiquan show his skills with his own eyes.
Now there is a little ghost squatting in front of them, Jiang Nan'an thinks this should be a very good opportunity.
Beiquan smiled at Jiang Nan'an.
Then, he suddenly stretched out his hand and patted the back of the other's head.
According to Beiquan's expectation, Comrade Xiao Jiang should be photographed directly by him, and then he only needs to "throw" Jiang Nan'an in the past, empathize with Mo Fan's remnant soul, and see with his own eyes the experience of the other party before his death. .
However-
"hiss!!!"
Beiquan hugged his hand and took a deep breath.
He felt as if he had been slapped on a piece of steel.
Jiang Nan'an raised his hand and touched the back of his head, and gave Beiquan a confused look:
"What are you doing?"
Beiquan was still gasping for breath.
He looked down at his right hand, his palm was already red and completely swollen.
"You...really, so hard..."
Beiquan gritted his teeth and expressed his current feelings.
"I'm sorry."
Jiang Nan'an laughed dryly and touched his short head.
"Because I practiced the golden bell iron cloth shirt, you hit me suddenly just now, and I unconsciously-"
Beiquan raised his hand with tears in his eyes, signaling Jiang Nan'an to stop talking.
At this moment, he really, very, very, misses Wei Fuyuan.
"… never mind."
Beiquan rubbed his red and swollen palms, sighed softly, and pointed to Mo Fan's cat's remnant soul in the corner:
"Let's take him back first."
&&& &&& &&&
At 11:30 in the evening, Beiquan and Jiang Nan'an returned to the "Santuchuan" broadcasting company.
The two went straight to the study with Mo Fan's soul, and Zhu Ling and Tian Raisean heard the news and ran over to watch.
Beiquan placed an offering table, candlesticks and incense burners in the north of the study, and placed a shallow plate containing snow-white fine sand about half a centimeter in thickness.
He knew that he still had a dark wound on his body, and he really didn't dare to kill him casually.
So this time, Beiquan intends to use the most traditional method of Fuja, which is commonly known as "asking rice" in the folk, and "character" in the technique.
Considering that Mo Fan only had one soul and one soul left, Beiquan also stuffed a talisman paper bag wrapped in white stone and grave soil in front of Jiang Nan'an's chest, which was full of qi, so that he could cover up the yang energy on his body.
Afterwards, Beiquan tied a red thread to the rosary containing Mo Fan's remnant soul, tied the other end of the thread to his thumb, put the rosary on the offering table, lit the incense stick, and choked the magic formula with his hands, muttering. He chanted a curse.
When the spell was finished, the red thread tied to his thumb trembled slightly.
Seeing that the thread moved, Beiquan knew that the spell was done. So I picked up a chopstick with the hand tied with the red thread, and buckled it loosely in the palm, perpendicular to the top of the sand table.
"Mo Fan?"
Beiquan asked.
The chopsticks moved on their own and drew a complete circle on the sand surface.
Seeing the answer on the sand table, Beiquan asked the first question softly:
"Mo Fan, how did you die?"
Because Mo Fan's soul was so weak that it could dissipate at any time, Beiquan knew that he couldn't be bothered, so he only planned to ask him three questions.
The chopsticks moved slowly and traced intermittent strokes on the sand table. When connected, they were two crooked Chinese characters with childish handwriting like that of a primary school student:
[suicide].
Beiquan raised his eyebrows.
The answer was a bit unexpected.
Originally, Beiquan also believed that those few people had no reason to commit suicide, let alone that they should not seek death one by one as if they had contracted an infectious disease.
But now, he personally got an answer from Mo Fan's remnant soul, saying that he really committed suicide.
Beiquan smoothed the sand tray with the hand that did not hold the chopsticks, and then asked:
"So, you want to die yourself?"
This time, the chopsticks lingered on the sand table for a few breaths before writing one word:
[Yes].
After confirming that Mo Fan had indeed died of suicide and that no one was persecuting him, Beiquan erased the words on the sand table again.
He thought for a while, and then asked the last question:
"Then why did you kill yourself?"
This time, the chopsticks shuttled on the sand surface for a longer time, just like a doll whose battery was about to run out, he wrote the first stroke tremblingly:
[幛].
Trembling again, the chopsticks continued to move.
[)].
Then, with a clatter, the chopsticks fell down.
Mo Fan's already weak soul energy was finally exhausted, and he couldn't hold on any longer.