A Corpse in the River

　　The rising sun gently emitted its warm rays, peeking out from the horizon.

　　As the ripples on the river intertwined with the sunlight, waves of silver light shimmered.

　　A fishing enthusiast, sitting on a stone by the riverbank, remained as still as an old monk in meditation.

　　He appeared young, but a trace of sorrow flickered between his brows, as if he had just endured a great disaster.

　　His bloodshot eyes, evidence of a sleepless night, confirmed his distress.

　　Wearing an ill-fitting raincoat, the lingering water stains indicated that he had been sitting here for a long time.

　　He loved fishing, especially at night, when he could enjoy a rare tranquility and calm his restless heart.

　　This was the place where he often fished, familiar with this river, always returning with a bountiful catch.

　　Today, his luck wasn't too good, perhaps because his heart had yet to calm down.

　　He had been sitting all night, but not even a single fish was caught.

　　"Woof, woof, woof—" A robust black dog, resembling a young ox, circled around him, its eyes fixed on the river, emitting an uneasy bark.

　　It was his dog, accompanying him every time he went fishing, always peacefully guarding by his side.

　　Today, however, it was behaving unusually.

　　He glanced at the dog, attributing all the bad luck to it, convinced that its barking had scared away the fish.

　　"Blackie, be quiet! You scared them away!"

　　Feeling unjustly blamed by its owner, Blackie circled around him once, then anxiously stared at the river, emitting a low growl from its throat.

　　"Blackie." As soon as he spoke, the fishing line suddenly moved.

　　A hint of a smile appeared on his lips; finally, a fish had taken the bait.

　　After waiting all night, he didn't want this hard-earned catch to escape.

　　He whispered, "Blackie, stay quiet."

　　"Woof, woof, woof!" However, Blackie barked loudly towards the river, growing more restless, tightly fixating on the water.

　　The fishing rod began to bend downward as the fish attempted to escape.

　　He quickly reeled it in.

　　"Blackie, this is a big fish!" The smile on his face grew more pronounced, this trip wasn't in vain.

　　A tremendous force came from under the water; the fishing rod had already formed a complete arc.

　　The creature beneath the water seemed determined to break free.

　　To prevent the fishing rod from breaking, he deliberately loosened his grip, reducing the pressure, as he wanted to exhaust the fish's strength by allowing it to swim for a while.

　　"Woof, woof, woof!" Blackie's barks grew even louder.

　　Its front paws continuously scraped against the ground, eager to plunge into the water.

　　"Blackie, this is a big fish; you better help me!" He noticed that the creature in the water wasn't swimming and felt a sense of strangeness.

　　So, he pulled back even harder.

　　With a loud "snap," the fishing rod couldn't withstand the enormous force and split apart.

　　He fell to the ground, watching the other half of the fishing rod drop into the water, feeling a wave of misfortune washing over him.

　　"Now, Blackie, we've not only lost the wife but the soldiers too." He regretfully threw the fishing rod in his hand to the ground, the good mood he had just found dissipated in an instant.

　　"Woof, woof, woof!" Blackie's barking continued, displaying even more unrest than before.

　　He noticed Blackie's unusual behavior today and once again directed his gaze towards the water, feeling a sense of oddity.

　　The broken fishing rod floated on the water's surface, not carried away by the fish below, and it didn't even move from its original position.

　　If there was a big fish underwater, the fishing rod should have moved along with it.

　　The fact that it remained still indicated that there was no fish below, perhaps the fishing hook was tangled in the water plants.

　　"Gugu, gugu, gugu—" a string of bubbles emerged from underwater.

　　He knew that something underwater was about to float up.

　　Suddenly feeling nervous, coupled with Blackie's anxious barking in his ears, he took two steps back, wanting to escape from here.

　　A silhouette slowly emerged from the water's surface.

　　It was a large suitcase for traveling.

　　Although it was far away, it was not difficult to see that its leather quality was very good.

　　"Wang, wang, wang—," Blackie's anxiety changed to excitement as he jumped into the water and swam towards the suitcase.

　　"Blackie!" he wanted to stop Blackie.

　　For some reason, his heart started beating faster, and his eyes were fixated on the suitcase that Blackie was pushing towards the shore.

　　The fishing line was tangled around the suitcase's handle.

　　If he hadn't pulled it up with force earlier, the suitcase wouldn't have floated up to the water's surface.

　　Perhaps it would have remained sunk.

　　How could there be a suitcase in the water? He felt very strange, and the suitcase's texture was very high-end, without any traces of damage.

　　It shouldn't have been discarded as garbage into the water.

　　The suitcase stranded on the shore, and Blackie forcefully bit onto it, trying to pull it up.

　　However, the suitcase did not budge, so Blackie emitted a cry for help.

　　"There's nothing to be afraid of, it's just a box," he said to himself, but actually, he felt that this box seemed familiar.

　　Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the box.

　　The box was heavy, and only with Blackie's help could they pull it onto the shore.

　　He stared at the box and the more he looked, the more he felt a sense of familiarity, but for the moment, he couldn't remember where he had seen it before.

　　"Blackie, what do you think is inside?" "Wang—" Blackie barked.

　　"Blackie, you're right.

　　We should open it and take a look." He nodded, reaching out to open the box.

　　Suddenly, he gasped, his legs went weak, and he sat on the ground with his eyes fixated on what was inside the box.

　　It turned out to be a female corpse, soaked by the river water, her whole body pale white, just like a fierce ghost.

　　"Wang, wang, wang—" Blackie barked at the corpse.

　　His face turned pale.

　　He got up from the ground and ran towards the nearby village, but after running for a distance, he returned.

　　He stood not far from the box, his legs still weak.

　　He looked at the corpse and the box.

　　Now, he remembered where he had seen this box before.

　　His face still looked unpleasant, but he no longer had the idea of escaping.

　　He turned his head to look at Blackie and said, "You're right, running away won't solve the problem.

　　We'd better call the police." "Wang—" Blackie agreed with his statement.