Chapter 374: Anyway, They are All Ghosts
“If he was indeed murdered, then it should be thoroughly investigated,” Jane McCain couldn’t help but interject.
Marcel Jefferson, who was sitting beside, glanced at his irritated cousin and quietly explained to Jane, “Legal truth is constructed from surface evidence, and is not always equivalent to objective truth. According to the Prosecutor’s Office, the case should be considered an accidental poisoning. So… no matter how much the family kicks up a fuss, it’s useless unless new evidence emerges.”
Purple Summers nodded slightly upon hearing this, “You said that the prosecutor is about to retire. He certainly wouldn’t want the nature of this case to change after it’s been decided. Otherwise, it would look bad on his work report.”
“…So what do we do?” Zara Jameson looked at everyone uncertainly. “Are we still going today?”
“We are going. The train tickets have already been purchased,” Jane McCain, obviously worried Zara would back out, said. “Even if we do not investigate the case, we can still travel there for fun. I’ve wanted to visit the ghost village for a long time!”
Purple Summers laughed, “Agreed. We could just consider this a little trip.”
Aria Jackson frowned, wanting to say something but hesitating. At last, she patted Purple Summers’s shoulder and said, “Be careful though, that place is indeed disturbing.”
Purple Summers, Jane McCain, and Zara Jameson set off for Peachwater Village as planned, although they had to catch the next train, as their original one had already departed.
Upon arrival, they were surprised to see Ryan Wesley waiting at the exit gate, sitting on his suitcase.
“You guys are so slow!” Ryan Wesley exclaimed, “I’ve been waiting for almost two hours!”
Purple Summers was shocked, thinking at first that Ryan Wesley was sent by Alexander Summers to monitor her. However, Jane McCain then stuttered out, “This place is haunted… it’s safer to bring a guy…”
So, it was Jane who called him!
Purple Summers and Zara Jameson looked at each other, both trying to suppress their laughter.
Blushing, Jane McCain doubled down, “How can we go on a trip without bringing a man?… We’re three weak young girls. If we encounter hooligans or thieves here, where we know no one, it would be so helpless…”
Unable to hold back any longer, Purple Summers burst into laughter.
Jane McCain, looking flustered, quickly grabbed her suitcase and headed off, saying, “Come on, we need to find a hotel…”
Due to the rumors that Peachwater Village was haunted, it gradually became a tourist spot with many decent quality hotels, each with its own local character.
Since it was off-season and there were few tourists, they easily found a nice hotel, a three-courtyard old mansion.
The mansion was antique, reminiscent of the kind of house only wealthy landowners of past eras could afford. A business-minded outsider bought and refurbished the old house, turning it into a characteristic guesthouse.
There was a conspicuous dry well in the yard.
The hotel staff explained, “According to legend, during the Qing Dynasty, a wealthy family lived here. The master of the house had a beloved concubine who used to be an actress. She would often perform for the master, causing his wife to be extremely jealous. Once, while the master was out on a business trip, the wife had her servants throw the concubine into this well. Ever since, mournful singing can be heard from it every night.”
Hearing this, Zara Jameson clung tightly to Purple Summers’s arm, “This place is too scary. Let’s find somewhere else.”
Jane McCain was also feeling jittery but, having more courage than Zara Jameson, advised, “Let’s stay here. The hotel next door is even more terrifying. They’ve got a noose hanging from a crooked tree in their yard. They say someone was hanged there.”
Ryan Wesley nodded in agreement, “Either way, they’re all ghosts. We might as well choose the pretty one. A concubine charming enough to incite jealousy even after death, even as a ghost, must be a lovely one.”