Chapter 776: Zhaodi

At 10 PM, the two arrived at Taiyang Pawnshop. He Jingjing beckoned them inside. The room was pitch dark, and Lin Qiupu imagined a knife-wielding assailant lurking behind the door. He swallowed nervously.

Following Song Lang into the room, He Jingjing switched on the light. Directly opposite the door was a reception desk. To the left was a consultation room, furnished with only a sofa, a coffee table, and some potted plants. He Jingjing opened the door on the right, revealing an office filled with tall glass cabinets displaying antiques, paintings, branded watches, jewelry, and other valuables, all locked up.

“This is my father’s office. He keeps the collateral and ledgers here. No outsiders are allowed in, not even me,” she said.

“How do you have the key then?” Song Lang asked.

He Jingjing looked flustered for a moment before saying, “He’s my dad. I know where he hides the spare key. There’s nothing he can hide from me at home or in the shop.”

“How many people work here?”

“My dad, the receptionist Xiaoli, who works nine to five. If she’s not around, I take over. And our clerk, He Jun, who handles odd jobs.”

“There must be more people. This place also handles loans. Debt collection is tough work. Who’s in charge of that? Ms. He, if you want to assist in our investigation, you need to be honest.”

He Jingjing bit her lip. “He Jun has some friends on the streets. When debts can’t be collected, he calls on them to help. Of course, it’s all within legal limits.”

“Does your father trust He Jun?”

“Yes, He Jun is his nephew, a distant relative. He got into trouble in his youth and served time. When he got out, my dad took him in. He’s been working here for ten years.”

Song Lang nodded. He noticed Lin Qiupu standing still and said, “Are you just going to stand there with your notebook, writing down my words?”

“Oh!” Lin Qiupu snapped out of it and quickly took out his notebook to record the information.

Song Lang said to He Jingjing, “Please show us that small bowl.”

“I’ll find it.”

He Jingjing went to open the safe but couldn’t get the combination right. She called out upstairs, “He Jun!” A muscular man with tanned skin and a noticeable neck tattoo came down. Seeing the strangers, he instinctively asked, “Cops?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. They’re here to investigate. My dad was killed!”

“What… What!?” He Jun was shocked, his reaction seemingly genuine.

He Jingjing briefly explained the situation and asked He Jun to open the safe. He did so easily. Song Lang peeked inside: there was cash, gold bars, property deeds, and a small bowl.

He Jun carefully handed the bowl to Song Lang, who examined it. Its shape, color, and texture made it clear that it was carved from a human skull. It wasn’t a refined artifact, just a skull with a bone bottom attached.

“What is this?” Song Lang noticed a strange pattern at the bottom of the bowl.

“Captain, that’s a QR code,” Lin Qiupu explained.

“A QR code?” Song Lang looked puzzled.

Lin Qiupu realized Song Lang didn’t know what a QR code was, noticing his old flip phone.

“Like this…” Lin Qiupu scanned the code with his phone, which brought up a video. He played it, showing a man in a dimly lit room, holding a folding fan and speaking dramatically:

“Her name was Zhaodi, a woman from a poor rural family in northern Anhui at the end of the 19th century. She was betrothed early to a landlord’s second son. At seventeen, she became a mother, but the child was stillborn. At twenty, she was pregnant again but lost the child. Both were sons. Her husband, distraught, sought answers. One day, furious, he beat her, accusing her of wanting to save her own life over their child’s. ‘If you don’t give the X family a son, I’ll twist your head off and use it as a bowl!’ he yelled.”

The man in the video shook his head regretfully. “Destiny seemed to mock her. The third child was also a son but didn’t survive. Zhaodi then disappeared. Her husband claimed she ran away after killing their children.”

The man pulled out a bowl identical to the one Song Lang held. “This bowl, found during the Cultural Revolution in her husband’s home, is Zhaodi! A poor, helpless woman! This isn’t just a skull but her grievance crossing a century… I’m pawning this bowl for six million yuan. If you don’t pay, I’ll leave it with you, bringing ‘good luck’ to your family. You can throw it away if you dare, but see if Zhaodi gets angry!”

The four of them stared at the screen. He Jingjing said, “Now you believe it? This bowl brings a curse!”

“Can we take the bowl for examination?” Song Lang asked.

“Yes, take it! Just don’t bring it back! Maybe the police station’s aura can suppress it,” He Jingjing sighed, relieved.

“By the way, how much cash did your father take when he left tonight?”

“I don’t know. The last time I saw him was at 8 PM, carrying a suitcase he usually used for money. He even handcuffed it to his wrist. It must have been a large sum. I asked where he was going, and he said he’d be back soon.”

“He didn’t explicitly say he was delivering the ransom?”

“It was my guess. Why else would he go out with that much money late at night? Officer, this isn’t just superstition. Ask any pawnshop owner in the city about this bowl and the curse. Yuxiang Pawnshop’s owner died after receiving this bowl. You should have a record of it.”

He Jun chimed in, “Yes, it’s true. This bowl is cursed. Ever since it appeared, I’ve had bad luck all month, and the boss’s wife fell ill and died.”

Song Lang noticed He Jun’s hand lightly touch He Jingjing’s waist as they stood together.