Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 26: Chapter 8: Big Trouble

He crouched down and poked the ground with his finger. First, he felt ice slush and muddy water, but pressing deeper, he hit hard, frozen earth.

But it wasn’t like this eight years from now.

He thought back carefully. He remembered that, eight years in the future, this place was all sludge. Walking had been a struggle, with each step sinking unevenly. But now, the ground was hard. He didn’t remember it raining eight years from now...

’What’s going on?’

More memories surfaced. ’Wait, I think I have a lead:’

His parents were both geological surveyors. The reason they’d come to work on the island, at Father Gu’s initiative, seemed to be to investigate a so-called "subsidence zone."

The island was surrounded by the lake on three sides. Since the end of the last century, it had been progressively developed. More and more buildings were constructed, and over the years, the ground strata compressed, causing the surface to slowly sink.

Gu Jianhong was planning a construction project on the island and was worried about the buildings collapsing, which was why he spearheaded the establishment of the survey institute.

’Maybe the "restricted area" is within the subsidence zone. Eight years ago, the ground underfoot was still hard earth. Eight years from now, the ground must have sunk and the water level risen, which is why it’s all sludge.’

Zhang Shutong truly never imagined that something he was doing would one day be connected to his parents’ profession.

’But this is going to be a problem...’

He had originally planned to find traces of the killer’s activity by looking for footprints, thereby confirming his suspicions. But now the snow had melted and the ground was frozen solid. He had no choice but to bite the bullet and venture deeper.

Winter nights came early. The setting sun had vanished, and a gloomy layer of clouds covered the sky, leaving the moonlight hazy.

The reeds beside him were nearly as tall as he was, completely blocking his view. It was quiet all around, save for the RUSTLE of his body brushing past the reeds.

He held his breath, turned on his flashlight, and aimed it at the ground, advancing one small step at a time.

’Stones...’

’Blades of grass...’

’An instant noodle wrapper...’

But the wrapper was ancient, nearly faded, and embedded in the dirt. He glanced at it twice but didn’t touch it.

Then, Zhang Shutong saw something dark and round.

He flipped it over and saw... a dead, dried turtle?

Yes, a mummified turtle. It was almost the size of an adult’s palm, comparable to an old soft-shelled turtle. The corpse was so shriveled and dehydrated it looked like a mummy.

He could tell it was a local grass turtle. Normally, finding a dead turtle by the water wasn’t strange. He also knew it was hibernation season for turtles; sometimes you could even find an empty shell lying around. But why...

...was this turtle not retracted into its shell?

The turtle was frozen in an extremely bizarre posture, no different from a living one. Its head was raised, its four limbs extended, as if it were basking on a rock.

Zhang Shutong had found it lying on its back, which only made it stranger. It was as if this had been a grass turtle sunbathing when, suddenly, something happened. Like the ancient city of Pompeii buried in volcanic ash, its body had been instantly desiccated.

’But how could a turtle by the water die of dehydration?’

Zhang Shutong swallowed hard.

Forcing himself to ignore the strange turtle for now, he continued forward with his flashlight. Suddenly, he stepped on something that felt like rubber—resilient and springy. Goosebumps erupted all over his body. He quickly moved his foot and shone the light down.

It was a strip-shaped, dark red "rock."

It was about two fingers wide and six inches long, caked in mud. Fighting back his nausea, he pressed it with his finger, confirming his suspicion.

It was, indeed, a piece of meat.

The surface of the meat was already dried out, making it hard to tell how long it had been there.

Zhang Shutong wasn’t sure if he should feel a sense of familiarity or surprise. He had used meat as bait when fishing before, so finding something like this by the water wasn’t that unusual—just like the noodle wrapper. Although few people came here to fish, "few" didn’t mean "none," and it wasn’t necessarily related to the killer.

Frowning, he walked a few more steps. His final discovery was a plastic water bottle. It was floating quietly by the lake’s edge. He picked it up and looked at it. The production date was October 27th.

There were some water droplets on the inner wall, but it had just snowed during the day, so it was hard to say what caused them. Again, he couldn’t determine how long it had been here.

Not a single clue was definitive.

He had initially thought the killer had scouted the location beforehand. Once he confirmed that basic premise, he could have launched a more in-depth investigation along those lines. But now, he couldn’t even draw a firm connection.

Let alone figure out who the killer was.

’This is giving me a headache.’

There was no reason to stay any longer today. He took out his phone and photographed the clues. They might not be of much use, but he could ponder them at home tonight. He paid special attention to the bizarre turtle, taking pictures from several different angles.

’Man, the camera resolution on phones back then was total garbage. Smartphones in 2012 hadn’t unlocked the "Night Mode" skill yet.’ The photos of the turtle looked like something out of a horror movie; it appeared horrifyingly grotesque on the screen.

The phone he was holding was a hand-me-down from his mom. He couldn’t remember if it was an iPhone 4 or 4s. Back then, he’d treasured it, but now it felt clunky in every way. He just remembered the reception was mediocre, which might have been due to the few cell towers on the island. In any case, the status bar showed no bars at all right now.

Thinking of this, Zhang Shutong really missed the technology from eight years in the future. He wouldn’t even have to come here himself. A drone could have handled it, or he could have bought a small camera for 24/7 surveillance...

Speaking of surveillance, an idea struck him. He could build a small trap.

He had always been a boy who was good with his hands. On the island, he’d learned a lot of clever tricks from Qingyi, like how to tie various knots and various wilderness survival skills. Qingyi read a lot of books and was the best at that sort of thing.

He’d never thought any of it would be useful. Were they supposed to re-enact *Robinson Crusoe* on the island? No one wanted to be Friday. But for boys, the attitude towards such tricks had always been that as long as they were cool, that was enough. He never expected them to come in handy today.

He returned to his bicycle and opened the rear storage box. He had to admit, his younger self had been a true pro when it came to fishing. There was even spare fishing line and a pair of scissors inside.

Zhang Shutong cut a few lengths of fishing line. After measuring it out, he tied the ends to the reeds on either side, then tied a knot in the middle.

This kind of knot would break with the slightest bit of force, but that was exactly the effect he wanted. He adjusted its position to shoe-level, then tested it himself to ensure the tension was just right, so it wouldn’t be accidentally triggered by an animal.

He proceeded to tie several more lines.

This way, if anyone walked into the restricted area, they would accidentally trigger his "trap." The knot was tied just right—it would break on contact, at most causing the person to stumble. Even if they looked down, puzzled, they’d never notice the fishing line and would probably assume they’d just tripped on some nearby weeds.

Now, all he had to do was swing by here every day after school, and he’d be able to tell at a glance if someone had been there.

Mission accomplished. By the time he snapped out of it, the energy from the fried shrimp cracker had worn off, and he was starting to feel cold. He sniffled, thinking that he’d surely have some results by tomorrow. He scanned his surroundings one last time to make sure no one was around before hopping on his bike and heading back.

He hadn’t gotten far when he finally remembered he was supposed to go fishing with his friends today. He smacked his forehead belatedly. ’Crap,’ he thought, ’I’ve taken too long. My buddies are probably blowing up my phone.’

He quickly pedaled harder. As his bike reached a certain spot, his phone seemed to catch a signal, and it started vibrating nonstop.

He pulled it out and saw missed calls from Ruoping. That girl was terrifying—she’d called four times in a row.

Zhang Shutong gave a helpless smile. Just as he connected to mobile data to send a message, a barrage of QQ messages came through.

Ruoping: Something seems wrong.

Ruoping: Pick up pick up pick up!

Ruoping: [Image]

Ruoping: Get over here!

’What’s going on?’

Zhang Shutong froze. It was just after six in the evening now, and her last message had been sent at 5:40 PM.

A sudden chill ran down his spine.

Zhang Shutong quickly opened the QQ chat. One glance at the image left him so shocked that his hands slipped, and he almost crashed his bike.

The background in the picture Ruoping sent was familiar enough—it was their usual fishing spot. His buddies had already set everything up, just like always. But the main subject of the photo was someone completely unexpected—

It was the back of a girl in a blue robe.

The young woman was sitting primly on a small, portable stool.

In her hand, she held a fishing rod.