Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

Chapter 1070

Fingerprints on a Rainy Night: The torrential downpour, like countless overturned ink bottles, drenched the entire city of Nanhua in thick darkness. Deep in the old alleys of Nanhua Road, the bluestone pavement, washed to a sheen, shimmered with a cold, shimmering water, like a winding black ribbon, entwined with the sleepy old city. The streetlight at the alley's entrance cast a dim halo through the rain, barely illuminating a half-meter square, making the surrounding darkness seem even deeper. Lin Lan crouched within the yellow police cordon, rain dripping down the brim of her navy blue police uniform, gathering in a trickle at her chin, then running down her neck and into her collar, bringing a piercing chill. She seemed oblivious, the beam of the flashlight, tightly grasped in her right hand, piercing the thick night, precisely landing on a strange bloody handprint at the base of the wall. The bloody handprint's five fingers were spread out, fingertips pointing upward, as if a dying person had left an accusation on the wall with their last remaining strength. The dark red bloodstains had become somewhat blurred by the rain, their edges smeared with faint crimson, like the deliberately blurred brushstrokes in an ink painting, yet exuding a chilling eeriness. This was the third murder this month. The victims were all elderly individuals living alone. The fatal wounds were all on the neck, neat and sharp, as if inflicted instantly by an extremely sharp knife. There were no signs of forced entry at the scene; the doors and windows were intact, and there was no sign of a struggle inside. Only the same bloody handprint remained, a mocking symbol, stubbornly imprinted on the base of the wall at each crime scene. "Boss, the fingerprint comparison results are in," came the barely concealed trembling voice of trainee officer Xiao Zhang from behind, breaking the stillness of the rainy night. He clutched a tablet tightly in one hand, his knuckles white from the strain, and with his other hand he wiped the rain from his face, his eyes filled with shock and fear. Lin Lan slowly stood up, her movements calm and efficient. Raindrops streamed down her angular face, outlining her pursed lips and deep eyes. She took the tablet Xiao Zhang handed her, her fingertips brushing against the cool screen, and she flinched subconsciously. The screen displayed magnified images of two fingerprints side by side. On the left was the bloody fingerprint just extracted from the scene, while on the right was the inscription: "1934, Nanhua Apartment Murder Case." What was chilling was that these two fingerprints, from different times and places, matched each other perfectly, even the tiniest forks and breaks, as if they were left by the same person on the same wall in different times and places. Lin Lan's breath hitched, her heart gripped by an invisible hand, making it nearly impossible to breathe. She had been a criminal investigator for fifteen years, solving countless difficult cases and witnessing all sorts of coincidences and anomalies, but never anything so bizarre. 1934, eighty-seven years ago, was a time of war and turmoil. How could a fingerprint from eighty-seven years ago appear at a modern-day murder scene? This was simply beyond common sense, like something out of some absurd science fiction story. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Years of criminal investigation experience had taught her that the more bizarre the case, the simpler the truth, the more likely it is to be deceived by appearances. "Are you sure you're not mistaken?" Her voice was low and hoarse, with a barely perceptible tremor. Xiao Zhang nodded vigorously, his tone firm. "Our colleagues in the technical department have compared it three times and cross-verified it with the provincial department's database, and the results are the same. This fingerprint is an exact match to the fingerprint in the case file from 1934." He paused, then added, "Furthermore, the victims in that cold case were also elderly people living alone, and the fatal wounds were also to the neck. An identical bloody handprint was left at the scene." Lin Lan's brows furrowed even more. She looked at the fingerprint image on the screen again, as if trying to see through the cold screen and into the dust of nearly a century. History always repeats itself, but when it's this similar, it's definitely more than just a coincidence. "Secure the scene. Have the technical department conduct a thorough investigation. Don't miss any details, especially around the base of the wall. Don't miss a single inch." Lin Lan handed the tablet back to Xiao Zhang, her tone returning to her usual calm and commanding tone. "I'll go back to the bureau and look at the files on that unsolved Republican-era case in the archives." "Yes, boss," Xiao Zhang replied firmly. He watched Lin Lan disappear into the rain before he breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the rain from his face, and returned to the task of protecting the scene. Lin Lan drove through the rain-shrouded city. The neon lights outside the car window reflected hazy shadows in the rain, like dancing ghosts. The image of the two fingerprints and Xiao Zhang's words replayed repeatedly in her mind. An unsolved case from 1934, the same victims, the same modus operandi, the same bloody fingerprints... all pointed to an unthinkable possibility: these two murders, committed nearly a century apart, might have been committed by the same individual. The thought chilled her. How could someone live for nearly a century? And how could they commit the same crime in two different time periods? Could time travel really exist? Lin Lan shook her head, trying to dispel these absurd thoughts. She was a police officer, believing in evidence and logic, not such fanciful fantasies. Back at the Municipal Bureau, the office building was brightly lit, lights from various departments streaming through the windows into the hallways, outlining the bustling figures. Lin Lan headed straight for the archives room, nestled deep in the building. There, stored were all the case files from the Municipal Bureau's founding, including many ancient archives. The door to the archives room was a heavy iron door, coated in a thin layer of rust. It creaked heavily when pushed open, a sound that spoke of the passage of time. As soon as you enter the door, a strong mixed smell of camphor and rotting paper hits you in the face. This is the smell of time settling, with a hint of oldness and mystery. The room is dimly lit, with only a few old-fashioned chandeliers emitting faint light, barely illuminating the rows of towering iron cabinets. The iron cabinets are covered with dust, and the paint on some cabinet doors has peeled off, revealing the dark metal background inside. Lin Lan walked to the area marked "Republic of China Archives". The iron cabinets here are older than those in other areas, and most of the labels on the cabinet doors are blurred. She put on gloves and began to search one by one. Her fingertips slid across the cold cabinet surface, leaving clear marks. Time passed by minute by minute,