Chapter 238: Morning Light (Last two days for monthly votes)

Dead... Although Lu Mian had a certain psychological preparation, he still couldn't accept it.

When leaving the clinic, Ruhl had clearly recovered and gotten rid of the bad luck of death. How could he suddenly die?

Lu Mian stepped into room 307 slowly and cast his gaze toward the bed.

Roul lay there, his skin covered in one festering wound after another, oozing pale yellow pus; his complexion was sallow and deathly pale, and he no longer showed any signs of movement.

His eyes were wide open, and there was some vomit by his mouth.

After staring at those eyes that still had residual blankness, pain, and unwillingness for a few seconds, Lu Mian asked in a low voice:

"When did he die?"

Michelle's gray hair seemed to lose its luster. She shook her head slowly:

"I was too sleepy and fell asleep. When I woke up, he was already dead..."

"Did he go back to 302 before sleeping?" Lu Mian asked.

"No, he just went to the washroom near 302, and I went too..." Mrs. Michelle's voice was clearly very low, but it gave Lu Mian a very floating feeling, as if part of her soul was no longer in her body.

Both went to that washroom, one "strange disease" recurred, one was fine... Lu Mian frowned and planned to go to that washroom to take a look.

If there was nothing wrong there, then the possibility of Mrs. Michelle having an abnormality would be quite high!

Lu Mian left room 307 and walked along the corridor without light toward the target washroom. Mrs. Michelle was still kneeling in front of the bed, sobbing in a low voice, ignoring what others were doing.

Because there was a fixed cleaning lady, the washroom on the third floor was no longer as dirty as before. Although after a day of use, it was inevitable to have stains and trash, at least it allowed civilized people to find a place to stand.

Lu Mian glanced at it, and with the help of the crimson moonlight shining in from the window, he saw the toilet and washbasin, saw the water pipe with rust on the surface, and the mirror reflecting his side profile.

He observed carefully for a while and found a white silk handkerchief on the pipe in a hidden corner.

Just by distinguishing with the naked eye, Lu Mian believed it didn't belong to most tenants currently at the Golden Rooster Hotel, because its material was excellent, the embroidery was elegant, and the price must be expensive.

An outsider? Lu Mian's first reaction was to pick up that silk handkerchief and do a more detailed check, but he immediately associated it with the picture of Ruhl's whole body ulcerating when he had a sudden illness, and forcibly controlled himself.

Amidst his thoughts, he left the washroom, walked back to room 307, and asked Mrs. Michelle, who was still sobbing:

"Do you know whose silk handkerchief is in the washroom?"

Michelle was blank and sad, relying purely on instinct to make an answer:

"It's Ruhl's."

Mr. Ruhl's? Lu Mian felt both surprised and had a feeling of "as expected."

He pressed on:

"Where did it come from?"

Mrs. Michelle looked at Ruhl's hideous corpse and said like a dream:

"From the trash we picked up tonight. I don't know which gentleman or lady threw it away...

"It was wrapped around a mouthful of phlegm, not damaged. Ruhl washed it clean and put it on himself, intending to sell it as a second-hand product, not as trash for recycling...

"After you said there might be dirty things in that pile of trash, Ruhl took it out and hid it in the washroom. He didn't dare to go back to 302..."

Phlegm... Lu Mian felt he had found the source of the problem.

He exhaled slowly:

"Did Mr. Ruhl touch that handkerchief again later? Did you touch it?"

"I don't know..." Mrs. Michelle shook her head slowly, "He went to the washroom himself, I didn't touch it..."

Sure enough... Lu Mian put on his gloves, came to that washroom again, picked up the white handkerchief made of silk with "Fallen Mercury," and put it into the white paper he carried, folding them together.

During the whole process, he was extremely careful, not touching the handkerchief directly.

After finishing this, Lu Mian wiped the blade of "Fallen Mercury" with other white paper, threw the paper ball into the toilet, and waited until it became soft from soaking before flushing it away.

Just as he walked out of the washroom, he saw Mrs. Michelle standing quietly at the door of room 307, as if wandering like a ghost in the darkness.

Seeing Lu Mian approach her, the white-haired old lady showed a pleading expression:

"Dawn is coming, Mr. Charles, can you help me carry Ruhl back to 302?"

Her voice was still like a dream.

Lu Mian was stunned for a moment, silent for five or six seconds before saying:

"Okay."

He then entered room 307, wrapped Ruhl with the bed sheet, and carried him on his back.

It was just a few steps away. Lu Mian put Ruhl's corpse on the bed in room 302.

Mrs. Michelle, who squeezed over from the pile of trash, thanked him repeatedly, then wandered to the wooden table like a sleepwalker and pulled the curtains.

It was close to six in the morning, and a touch of dawn lit up the horizon, making the crimson moonlight fade a lot.

Listening to the shouting of vendors coming from the other side of the hotel, Michelle stared deeply at Ruhl.

Lu Mian retreated from room 302, returned to the corridor still not reached by light, stood silently, without destroying that quiet picture.

A few minutes passed, and Mrs. Michelle suddenly moved. 【238-51

She rummaged through every corner of the room to find more banknotes and coins, then rushed out of the room and stomped downstairs.

Lu Mian did not follow; he lifted his right foot, pressed it against the wall behind him, and leaned his body against the wall that was submerged in darkness.

Time ticked away, second by second, until Mrs. Michel returned, carrying a large amount of items.

There was red wine in a bottle, a piece of roasted cod, salted meat, a meat pie, mashed beans, hot sauce, and apples.

Mrs. Michel did not spare Lu Mian a glance; she walked into Room 302, collapsed onto the floor by the bed, and placed all the food beside the festering corpse.

After a moment's thought, she stood up again and lit the carbide lamp on the wooden table, instantly filling the room with light.

Mrs. Michel collapsed onto the floor again, picked up the meat pie, brought it to Roul's lips, and said with a smile:

"Didn't you say you really wanted to eat meat pie recently? I bought it for you today."

After staining the corpse's lips with grease, Mrs. Michel took a bite of the meat pie herself, closed her eyes, and said:

"It's so delicious. How long has it been since we last ate this? Two weeks, right?"

After taking a few more bites of the meat pie, Mrs. Michel gripped the bottle of red wine and took a gulp.

She mumbled vaguely:

"Old man, our grapevines have borne fruit and been made into red wine; we don't have to worry about what to do in the future anymore!"

She chattered incessantly at Roul's corpse while drinking heavily and eating the various foods.

Outside the door, Lu Mian stood in the darkness, his back against the wall, watching the scene inside quietly; he neither left nor entered.

Soon, Mrs. Michel's intoxication grew intense, and having once been a bar waitress, she began to sing loudly:

"Trier paved with gold,

"Balls that last until dawn;

"Roasted chicken dripping with fat,

"Cakes like castles;

"Waiters in bow ties weaving between the guests,

"Dancing with joyful steps.

"My beloved is among them,

"Right among them.

"This is the City of Joy, this is eternal Trier!"

As she sang to this point, Mrs. Michel stood up, staggered to the wooden table, and brought the pile of banknotes to the carbide lamp.

In an instant, all the cash was ignited, falling onto the table and emitting a bright, yellowish glow.

Mrs. Michel spread her arms wide and shouted loudly:

"This is the City of Joy, this is eternal Trier!"

She then grabbed the rope used to tie the sack, climbed onto the wooden table, tied the rope to the window frame, and pulled it into a slipknot.

Amidst the firelight, Mrs. Michel turned her body, faced Roul on the bed, placed her neck into the noose, and then bent her legs.

The noose sank heavily, and Mrs. Michel's eyes bulged slightly.

The sky outside the window brightened a little more, and a third of the corridor was stained with a faint light. Lu Mian leaned against the wall still shrouded in darkness, his hands in his pockets, his right foot braced behind him, watching Mrs. Michel hanging from the window frame with an expressionless face, watching her mouth gradually open, watching her expression turn painful, and watching her bent legs only straighten after she died.

The corpse swayed gently in the morning light.

…………

6:35 AM, 3 White Coat Street, inside Apartment 601.

Awakened by the knocking, Forsyth rubbed her flaxen, messy hair with a pained expression:

"I've only slept for three hours, three hours!"

"Help me check if there's anything wrong with the things inside here." Lu Mian, as if he hadn't heard Forsyth's complaint, took out the handkerchief wrapped in white paper. "Be careful, it might carry a disease."

"Disease?" Forsyth woke up instantly, returned to her room, and put on a pair of translucent, pale yellow rubber gloves.

She very cautiously unwrapped the outer layer of paper, took out the silk handkerchief inside, and placed it on the glass-topped coffee table.

After clicking her teeth a few times and observing it carefully for a while, Forsyth said with a solemn expression:

"There is a problem; there are many tiny but active spirits remaining on it, all belonging to the same type.

"I suspect it's a pathogen, spreading through skin contact or even blood exchange. According to your description, its contagiousness isn't very strong."

Lu Mian didn't understand what a pathogen was, but he could roughly grasp what Forsyth meant.

He was silent for a moment and said:

"Can you find out who the owner of this handkerchief is?"

"No problem, there's a powerful medium here. As long as he hasn't performed anti-divination, or if his level of anti-divination isn't high enough, I can find him." As she spoke, a layer of black flames emerged on Forsyth's rubber gloves.

After finishing the "cleaning," she took off her gloves, took out a compact mirror, placed her left palm over the handkerchief, and gently stroked the mirror surface with her right hand.

She whispered a few incantations, and her eyes became deep and profound.

She began to repeat the divination statement:

"The owner of this handkerchief.

"The owner of this handkerchief..."

After repeating it several times, the mirror shimmered with water, reflecting a figure in the gloom.

It was a young man with a thin build, pale complexion, and an apparently unhealthy look.

He had deep yellow curly hair, brownish eyes that revealed undisguised indifference, wore a black tailcoat, held a white silk handkerchief, coughed twice, and spat phlegm into the handkerchief.

Lu Mian tried hard to memorize the man's appearance and suddenly felt he looked familiar, as if he had seen him somewhere before.

After a moment of recollection, he remembered.

This was a member of Hugues Artois's campaign team, standing right behind that red-haired woman at the time!

PS: Asking for monthly votes for the last two days.

(End of chapter)