Chapter 1 — Guardian of the Frescoes

Five years ago, I passed the entrance exam to the Provincial Artistic Restoration Center with top marks, but once participating in rescuing frescoes at an ancient temple, I encountered artefact smugglers and was killed by the bright moonlight in my fiance's arms in the underworld. She colluded with the smugglers of cultural relics, nailed soul-suppressing nails to my head and limbs, then sealed me against the double wall behind the Buddha's shrine. When the restoration team brought the police, she slandered that in order to survive, I actively guided the smugglers of cultural artifacts, and even helped them peel off the entire Tang Dynasty mural. On the ground, only my torn work uniform remained, and the main mural in the temple disappeared without a trace. Everyone believed her. Luc Nghien Chu hated me to the core and broke off the engagement on the spot. The Provincial Center for Artistic Restoration erased my name, and my parents angrily announced that they would break off all relations with me. My old school removed my name from its wall of honor, and the teacher I respected the most refused to admit that he had ever had a student like me. My photo was posted on the search notice, everyone scolded me that I deserved to die. From the youngest genius in the world of restoration, I became a person who ruined literature and was spit on by everyone. Five years later, the restoration team returned to the ancient temple. They broke the double wall behind the Buddha's shrine and at the same time dug out the truth that was buried deep in the dust.
“Teacher, there are human bones in this double wall!”
"Don't touch! Take pictures first, no one is allowed to move arbitrarily!"
As the chaotic sounds entered my ears, I was floating in front of the Buddha statue whose paint had peeled off. Seeing the skeleton curled up inside the wall, I remembered that I was already dead.
"It doesn't look like her body. The fabric of the clothes is still there, it looks like it's only been a few years."
Several young restoration workers surrounded my remains. Someone held a lamp, someone wore gloves, gently brushing away the ash layer. I looked towards the old man standing behind them, tears immediately falling. That is the teacher I respect the most, Ha Van Khiem.
“Tell the police.”
Teacher Ha looked at that skeleton for a long time, his voice hoarse as if it had just been sandblasted.
"The time of death is about five to six years. The bones are still preserved relatively intact, so identification information can probably be extracted."
The teacher did not recognize me. That's right, who would notice? It's been five years. I soon rotted into a white skeleton, not even the flesh that had been pierced by the nail remained.
“Teacher, her forehead bones and limbs all have iron nails.”
A young man couldn't help but scold:
"It's too cruel. Antiquities smugglers not only steal things but also kill people and lock their bodies in walls. In my opinion, this type of person deserves the death penalty."
The notepad in Mr. Ha's hand fell to the ground, papers flying everywhere. The senior brother next to him quickly pulled the young man back, lowered his voice and said:
"Stop saying a few words. You just arrived so you don't know."
The young man was stunned:
“Did I say it wrong?”
“Not wrong.”
Teacher Ha bent down to pick up the notepad, a piece of paper was squeezed until it was wrinkled.
“The thief who stole the national treasure really deserves to die.”
Having finished speaking, the teacher turned around and walked out of the Buddha's temple. Two restoration workers stood next to my remains, chatting in low voices.
"Uncle Are you stupid? The student that Teacher Ha loved the most was Tham Minh Duong, who ran after the smugglers five years ago."
“Is that the woman selling murals? Isn't she Director Luc's fiancee?"
“It's been gone for a long time. Director Luc hates her to the bone. I heard that even her parents don't need her anymore."
I hovered above their heads, with only a deafening ringing in my ears. The Tham Minh Duong they are talking about is me? But I don't follow cultural smugglers. To protect that mural, I died inside this wall a long time ago. The police quickly arrived. The team leader had more than half of his sideburns white, but I still recognized him immediately. That's my father, Tham Truong Xuyen. Luc Nghien Chu followed behind him, wearing a neat black coat, holding a document bag. After five years of not seeing him, he has become more calm and more like the director of the Institute of Literature who is respected by everyone. Dad stood in front of the double wall and asked:
“How long has it been since the preliminary assessment?”
The forensic assistant replied:
“Five to six years. The victim's head and limbs were fixed with iron nails, an extremely cruel tactic, similar to the gag used by cultural smugglers that year."
As soon as he heard the four words "smuggling artifacts", his father's hand that was touching the tobacco box stopped. Luc Nghien Chu also lowered his eyes to look at the remains. Very quickly, Dad stuffed the cigarette box back into his pocket, his voice not wavering at all.
“Brought back to investigate identity.”
“Captain Tham, I'll have to trouble you to make a trip.”
The young restoration worker smiled and looked at Luc Nghien Chu:
“Director Luc personally brought his father-in-law here, it's truly filial.”
I remained silent on the spot. Father-in-law? Dad only has one daughter, me. I'm dead, so who married Luc Nghien Chu? Finally, a smile appeared on Dad's face.
“Later I have to go eat with Thanh Le and the kids. The two grandchildren kept asking their grandfather to tell them stories about solving crimes."
Luc Nghien Chu also laughed.
“An An and Ninh Ninh have been waiting for dad since early morning.”
I watched them walk shoulder to shoulder out of the Buddha's temple, feeling like I was pushed back against that double wall by someone. My fiance married someone else. My parents adopted another person as their daughter. And that person is the murderer who killed me, Kieu Thanh Le. My remains were taken for testing. For some reason, my soul followed my father and Luc Nghien Chu into the car. Children's books are playing in the car. Luc Nghien Chu turned down the volume.
“Dad, Thanh Le told the kitchen to stew the soup for you. She said your stomach hasn't been feeling well lately, don't stay up late on an empty stomach anymore."
Dad said:
“He understands much more than Minh Duong. Before, Minh Duong only knew how to restore paintings, and didn't care about anything at home."
I sat in the backseat, reaching out to touch the silver hair on my father's shoulder, but my fingers went straight through. Five years ago, to buy medicine to treat my father's stomachache, I continuously helped him restore damaged prayer books for three months. But now, dad says I don't care at all. Luc Nghien Chu held the steering wheel.
“Don't bring up the past again. That path was her own choice, no one can blame her."
Dad was silent for a moment then let out a sentence:
“It's better to stay outside. You don't have to come back and embarrass others.”
The car stopped in front of a house separate item. The two children rushed out of the private room. One child hugged Luc Nghien Chu, the other hugged my father.
"Dad!"
"Grandfather!"
I saw Kieu Thanh Le helping my mother out. She wore a white dress, her eyes and facial features were gentle, still as innocent and harmless as five years ago.
"Nghien Chu, dad, are you two here? Mom and I have been waiting for a long time."
Her voice is still so sweet it's sickening. Five years ago, she also used the same voice to coax a group of cultural smugglers.
"Ming Duong's temperament is stubborn, keeping her will only cause more trouble. Crucify her inside. After all, who would believe the words of a dead person?"
Mother patted Kieu Thanh Le's hand.
"Thanh Le, don't always worry about your parents. Your health is weak."
Kieu Thanh Le bowed her head and smiled:
"Mom, I'm okay. As long as my parents are healthy, I can rest assured."
I stood outside the door of my private room, watching her sit in her previous position, ladling soup for my father, picking up food for my mother, watched gently by my fiance. A child suddenly pointed to a photo on the wall and asked:
“Mom, who is this evil woman?”
I followed the boy's finger. On the wall of the private room is an old newspaper. Above is my photo. The headline read: “A restoration genius colluded with cultural smugglers, causing the nation's precious murals to be lost.” Luc Nghien Chu glanced, his voice became tough.
“Someone not worth mentioning.”
The child pouted:
“She's so ugly.”
Kieu Thanh Le said softly:
"An An, don't say that. No matter how bad a person is, he should still keep some dignity when he dies."
Mom immediately frowned:
"What could he possibly wear? That year, if it wasn't for him, I would have almost died in the underground palace."
Kieu Thanh Le bowed her head.
"It's all in the past. At that time, Minh Duong was just temporarily confused."
Dad slammed his chopsticks on the table.
“It's not stupid, it's evil.”
I looked at dad. At that moment, I burst out laughing again. When I was nailed to the wall, an iron nail pierced straight through my palm, causing so much pain that I couldn't even cry. I used to think that if I died, they would at least investigate. But they don't. They sat around eating, scolding me for being a bad person. Luc Nghien Chu's phone rang. After answering the phone, his face immediately became unsightly.
"What? There's old restoration glue on the bone?"
I don't know what the other end of the line said. He stood up and went to the window.
"Are you sure that's the glue the center gave out five years ago? That batch of glue was only ever used by key restoration staff."
Kieu Thanh Le's chopsticks gently hit the side of the soup bowl, making a light sound. Dad asked:
“What's wrong?”
Luc Nghien Chu hung up the phone and looked at Kieu Thanh Le.
“On the hand bones of the skeleton in the double wall, restoration glue residue was detected.”
Kieu Thanh Le blinked:
"It's not strange that a restoration worker died in an ancient temple. It was such a chaotic year, perhaps it was some temporary worker."
Dad nodded:
“Don't rush to think nonsense.”
But Luc Nghien Chu did not sit down.
"Only four people received that batch of glue that year. Teacher Ha, you, Tham Minh Duong and me."
Kieu Thanh Le gently put down the bowl.
“Nghien Chu, are you doubting me?”
Luc Nghien Chu looked at her for a few seconds then turned away.
“I only asked one question sentence."
Mother immediately protected Kieu Thanh Le.
“What are you asking? That year, Thanh Le was harmed by Minh Duong to the point of almost losing his life. Do you still use this incident to poke at his wounds?"
Dad also spoke in a low voice:
“Nghien Chu, don't let a dead person disrupt the peace in the house.”
I watched the panic in Kieu Thanh Le's eyes quickly disappear. She picked up a piece of fish and put it in Luc Nghien Chu bowl.
“Nghien Chu, eat first. Tomorrow I'll go with you to the hospital to find that year's records. As long as there can be a clear investigation, I am willing to cooperate.”
She spoke too frankly. So straightforward that everyone once again trusted her. Only I saw, when she lowered her hand, she crushed a napkin into shreds. The next day, Teacher Ha went to the Institute of Literature. I followed Luc Nghien Chu into the records room. Sure enough, Kieu Thanh Le was also present. She was wearing a light-colored coat and was arranging old crates.
“Nghien Chu, these are all records from that year. I was afraid you wouldn't find it, so I told someone to move it out first."
Teacher Ha stood at the door, leaning on a cane.
“Who gave you permission to touch the file?”
Kieu Thanh Le was stunned, then looked at Luc Nghien Chu with pity.
“I just want to help.”
Luc Nghien Chu says:
“Teacher, Thanh Le has no malicious intentions.”
Teacher Ha walked over and turned over each box one by one.
“Where is the registration page for the amount of glue that Minh Duong received?”
Kieu Thanh Le immediately produced a notebook.