Little Constable rolled his eyes. “They wouldn’t dare! If they want a fight, let’s fight. I, a proud man of Nanli, would never be afraid of a bunch of barbarians!” His complexion and looks were nothing to boast about, but his eyes were exceptionally bright and spirited, his gaze full of confidence.

Brian Carter gave a slight sneer and ignored such empty words.

Little Constable glared at the distant, vast mountains and uttered a few harsh words, as if to say, ‘If the barbarians dare invade, I alone would be enough to stop them’...

Chapter Six: Deadly Weapon

An entire day passed.

It wasn’t until dusk that Brian Carter finally stood up.

In front of him lay piles of crudely pieced-together corpses—twelve victims in total.

Once assembled, faint tattoos could be seen on the backs of the bodies, the designs ancient and fierce, unmistakably the mark of the Shanshui Barbarians. On the base of each person’s left index finger, there was a thick callus—corpse drivers use this finger to hang the ghost bell, and over time, a callus naturally forms.

Upon careful examination, it was clear that all those who died so tragically here were corpse drivers of the Shanshui Barbarians. And they were only corpse drivers—among the body parts, there were none of the corpses they would have been transporting. While ‘piecing together the puzzle,’ Brian Carter had looked closely: the flesh of the dismembered bodies was all ‘fresh.’ There’s a big difference between newly dead bodies and old corpses sealed with drugs; for him, it was easy to tell.

Brian Carter folded his arms and stood before the corpses, eyes downcast in deep thought... Not long after, he shook his head with a bitter smile, turned, and left the bloody scene, returning to the front hall. Little Constable was curled up in a corner hugging his waist knife, having slept the entire afternoon. Brian Carter went over and shook his shoulder. Little Constable woke with a start, his eyes bleary and confused, not even sure where he was, and pitifully said to Brian Carter, “I’m hungry.”

Brian Carter laughed. “Hungry? There’s only incense here—I’m afraid you wouldn’t like the taste.”

Little Constable was still groggy, muttering, “Incense?” Only then did he fully come to his senses. He shot Brian Carter a sideways glance and pointed inside. “All done? I’ll go take a look!” With that, he leapt up from the ground.

Brian Carter nodded. “After you’ve seen it, you can head back. I...” He didn’t finish his sentence, suddenly closing his mouth. At some point, the light drizzle outside had turned into a torrential downpour. Brian Carter had been so focused on his work that he hadn’t noticed the change in weather.

The unexpected heavy rain made Brian Carter frown slightly.

Little Constable circled the murder house twice, and when he returned, his eyes were full of admiration. “You’re such a smooth talker, but I didn’t expect you to be so meticulous in your work. You actually managed to piece all the bodies together.” He paused, scrutinized Brian Carter carefully, and continued, “What’s even more impressive is that there’s not a drop of blood on your clothes. I couldn’t do that. I’m truly impressed.”

Brian Carter replied with a smile, “You’re not ordinary either. To be able to sleep so soundly and even feel hungry in a place like this—I couldn’t do it. I’m equally impressed.” Little Constable liked to be particular, but didn’t mind this kind of joke. He chuckled, “I was born with this problem. When I get sleepy, I have to sleep, and when I get hungry... Uh, let’s not talk about it. Just mentioning it makes my stomach burn.”

As they chatted, Little Constable found a few sticks of incense left by the barbarians, lit them, then ran over to Brian Carter, pulling him back to the murder house: pointing at the scene, he asked, “You’ve been busy all day—did you find anything?”

Brian Carter was just about to speak, but Little Constable stopped him with a gesture. “Hold on, let me guess first.” As he spoke, Little Constable squatted down, hugged his head, and furrowed his brow, putting on a pained expression.

Brian Carter couldn’t help but laugh. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

Little Constable replied, “You don’t understand,” and ignored him, sinking into deep thought. After a while, he suddenly looked up. “It was infighting among the barbarians!” He announced his conclusion, his expression returning to normal.

“That’s it? There has to be a reason, an explanation, right?” Brian Carter countered.

“Uh... Of course there’s a reason, listen to me...” Little Constable’s eyes darted around as he thought, and finally he came up with something: “Killing them wasn’t enough—they had to be chopped into pieces, really chopped into pieces! Even if there was a deep grudge and they wanted to dismember the bodies out of anger, they wouldn’t have done it so evenly. The body parts are all about the same size.”

Little Constable grew more animated as he spoke. “It looks more like a ‘ritual’—maybe it’s the Shanshui Barbarians’ way of punishing traitors. Besides, only those savage barbarians would use such cruel methods. We Han people could never do something like this.”

The way these corpse drivers died was too horrific, far beyond ordinary revenge or robbery. Seeing the scene as a barbarian blood ritual actually made sense. It’s just that Little Constable’s way of solving cases was completely backwards. Others deduced the result from clues; he just ‘guessed’ the result first, then looked for evidence to support it.

After finishing, Little Constable looked at Brian Carter with pride. “The case isn’t solved yet, but you can rest easy. It was their own infighting, nothing to do with us. The barbarians won’t cause trouble, and they definitely won’t come looking for trouble in Yanzi Ping.”

“I really wish things were as you say.” Brian Carter gave a bitter smile. “Unfortunately... there’s a ninety-nine percent chance the killer was Han. This time, Yanzi Ping is in for a lot of trouble!”