A Lunatic Says He Loves Me: Chapter 36

Chapter 36: The Divine Comedy 1

Just as Han Rong was about to take his leave, an unexpected person appeared.

“Master?” Ling Feng, having escorted Han Rong to the police station entrance, saw another bald head, shining brightly in the sunset.

He Chen wore a faded monk’s robe, straw sandals, and carried a bamboo basket covered with a blue sunshade cloth. Yuan Fei, without much regard for decorum, quietly approached and lifted the cloth, peering inside. After a moment, he pulled his head out and asked with a strange look, “Master, why are you carrying a black cat?”

“This is not a cat; it’s my creditor.” He Chen joined his hands in prayer and smiled at everyone. His fair face seemed to reflect light, making him look like a saint bathed in divine radiance. Ling Feng touched his bald head and explained, “This cat is said to be my master’s savior from a past life.”

He Chen glared angrily and scolded, “What cat? This is your junior uncle! Greet him properly.”

Ling Feng helplessly said to the basket, “Good afternoon, Junior Uncle.”

The cat in the basket remained motionless.

“This must be quite a story,” Yuan Fei remarked, half understanding.

“Master, you didn’t come to the police station just to take Junior Uncle for a walk, did you?”

“I came to tell you that we were mistaken last time. The ‘Rebirth Record’ isn’t a local text; it’s something that was brought from abroad. It seems to be the creation of some fervent fans of ‘The Divine Comedy.’ I don’t know if this information will be useful to you. Also, Junior Uncle ran out of snacks, so I came down the mountain.” He Chen bowed to them and turned to leave.

Ji Yan was still working overtime at the hospital, and Han Rong slowly walked back alone, carrying the disassembling cat. The police station’s location was excellent, right by the moat, with beautiful scenery. The setting sun cast a vibrant maple leaf color on the sparkling lake surface, making Han Rong stop to admire it. Not far away, a familiar figure also paused to appreciate the view. A round head poked out from the basket, revealing a pair of bright green cat eyes, curiously observing the world outside.

Han Rong joked, “Master, how does a monk who has transcended worldly desires also learn to keep a cat like common folk?”

He Chen laughed, “Well, have you ever considered that the phrase ‘I alone am sober while everyone else is drunk’ might actually have been spoken by a drunkard?”

“Do you think I am that drunkard?”

He Chen just smiled without answering.

This monk, though quite handsome, had an air of mystery that made people want to punch him.

“I saw online that your temple has an impeccable reputation for accurate divinations. Master, do you have time to give me a reading?”

“Which character would you like to divine?”

Han Rong used his toe to draw the character “醉” (drunk) on the ground.

He Chen examined it carefully and said, “What would the benefactor like to ask about?”

Intending to make it difficult for him, Han Rong replied, “Can you divine what I want to ask, Master?”

He Chen smiled and immediately said, “You are currently very confused, like a drunk person, unable to distinguish between reality and illusion. You want to know what is true and what is false.”

Humbly seeking guidance, Han Rong asked, “So, what do you think is true and what is false?”

He Chen said, “Well, what if ‘I alone am sober while everyone else is drunk’ is something a person said after drinking?”

“Are you trying to tell me that everything around me is real, and only I am still dreaming?”

He Chen revealed his signature enigmatic smile.

“Master, I seek a reading for peace of mind. Speaking in riddles like this makes me anxious. Isn’t that counterproductive?”

He Chen, with his bamboo basket, walked farther and farther away. His old voice, mismatched with his youthful face, seemed to come from a great distance, “Instead of seeking peace of mind, why not ask yourself if your heart is willing to wake up from the dream?”

“Han Ge, why are you back again?” Yuan Fei was washing a car with a hose when he looked up to see Han Rong holding the nape of Demolition’s neck, looking displeased. Han Rong said, “Hurry and find out which female comrade in your bureau has lost a cat.”

“You must be joking. Isn’t this your cat?” Ding Ding, holding some materials, came out with Bai Xinhuai. Bai Xinhuai observed calmly for a moment, then whispered, “He seems to have changed.”

“Han Rong had a breakdown?” Ling Feng, who was engrossed in writing a case analysis, looked up in disbelief. “I just casually mentioned it, and he really cracked up?”

Yuan Fei said, “Brother Han was shouting to put up lost cat notices, claiming he found the cat and wants to return it to its owner.”

Ding Ding asked, “Boss, what should we do now? Should we call Ji Yan to come and handle it?”

“Not yet,” Ling Feng said, turning off the printer after it had printed out the materials. “We found a handwritten copy of 《Rebirth Records》 in Li Yueran’s study, research materials on 《Rebirth Records》 in Lu Qi’s chemistry lab, and search records for 《Rebirth Records》 on Qin Jiadong’s home computer. But the borrowing list for 《Rebirth Records》 in Yuzhou City doesn’t include any of them. Who do you think passed this information to them?”

Ding Ding said, “Do you suspect Ge Jiaqi has connections with them?”

“Wildfire has been keeping an eye on that author but hasn’t come up with anything. But I still feel like there’s more to it,” Ling Feng said, printing out the sections from Adu Shisan’s Blind Detective that involve the eighteen hells, binding them into a booklet. “Isn’t it too coincidental? You write about a case involving deep-frying people, and then a real-life case about deep-frying people happens. Let Master Han analyze the author’s mindset for creating this plot.”

Ding Ding asked, “You want him to read this because he considers himself Adu Shisan, to analyze why the real Adu Shisan arranged the plot this way? Was it inspired by real events?”

Ling Feng nodded, then added, “But, Boss, the chapters of the novel were published first, and the case occurred later.”

“Exactly,” Ling Feng said. “I want Han Rong to analyze why every time Ge Jiaqi updates a chapter, a case with a similar manner of death occurs shortly after.”

Ling Feng handed the bound booklet to Han Rong, who was sitting in the meeting room, and asked, “Do you remember this manuscript?”

He had intended for Han Rong, who thought of himself as Adu Shisan, to do a psychological profile of the author Ge Jiaqi. However, Han Rong looked puzzled and asked, “What is this?”

“No memory of it?”

Han Rong shook his head and quickly skimmed through the material.

“‘Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate,’” he suddenly recited in Italian.

Ling Feng immediately asked, “What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with this sentence?”

Han Rong replied, “The beginning of this manuscript describes an Italian priest in great detail. After listening to the confessions of his parishioners, he would kindly and compassionately reassure them with ‘God forgives you,’ but as they left the church, he would watch their retreating figures and say, ‘Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate.’ This suggests, indirectly, that he might be a false priest who does not believe in God. Not long after, the first murder occurred in this peaceful and quiet town, followed by the second, third, fourth, and fifth… The town was thrown into panic. The mayor called in a legendary blind detective from the criminal investigation field. The blind detective tracked every step and eventually found that all the suspects in these cases had connections to the priest. They had all confessed to him.”

“In this novel, ‘Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate’ is a frequently appearing phrase.”

Ding Ding asked, “So what does that signify?”

Han Rong explained, “If you say to yourself in the mirror every morning, ‘I’m really handsome,’ over time you’ll start to believe you’re exceptionally good-looking. This is akin to ‘self-hypnosis,’ a form of psychological suggestion.”

“The repeated phrase ‘Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate’ in the text, translated into Mandarin, means ‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’”

With a ‘thud,’ Han Rong threw the stack of booklets on the table, stroked the cat’s head, and said, “Undoubtedly, this is a highly negative and dark novel. The author must have a deep understanding of psychology and deliberately suggests or manipulates readers with existing mental or psychological issues, leading them to extremes. For example, you might suffer from severe depression but haven’t reached the point where you need hospitalization and it affects your daily life. But after being repeatedly hypnotized by the text of this novel, you might end up committing suicide.”

“Words and language possess immense power; they can be uplifting and sweet or as deadly as a knife.”

“I found it!” Yuan Fei lifted his head from his laptop and said, “‘Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate’ comes from the ‘Inferno’ section of *The Divine Comedy*.”

Several heads leaned in towards the computer screen, looking at the search engine results, including the original text and its translation.

《Hell’s Gate ¹》

Per me si va ne la città dolente，

per me si va ne l’etterno dolore，

per me si va tra la perduta gente。

Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore;

fecemi la divina podestate，la somma sapenza e ‘l primo amore。

Dinanzi a me non fuor cose createse non etterne,  e io etterno duro。

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate

Through me, enter the city of pain,

Through me, enter the eternal suffering pit,

Through me, enter the people doomed to eternal despair.

Justice moved my exalted Creator;

Divine power, supreme wisdom, and utmost love—this Trinity shaped me.

Before me, nothing was created except for eternal things,

And I too am eternal, enduring forever.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

—

“Did my master just say that 《Rebirth Records》 was concocted by a group of extremists abroad?”

“Yes,” Ding Ding nodded, picking up a document, “Ge Jiaqi graduated from the psychology department of Y University, excelling both academically and in various public welfare activities.”

Even information officers like Yuan Fei in the public security sector have a secret internal intelligence account for accessing both domestic and international data. He logged into the intranet account, entered the keywords “Ge Jiaqi” and “Divine Comedy” into the search engine, and a new page appeared.

Yuan Fei said, “Ge Jiaqi wrote a paper on *The Divine Comedy* during his university years. Standing from the perspective of his own field of psychology, the paper had a novel approach and was published in an academic journal abroad.” He clicked on the link to the paper, which opened a full English page.

“What’s with this writing?”

The group exchanged glances.

Ling Feng touched his bald head and said, “Don’t look at me. Besides my criminal investigation courses in college, I barely passed the rest.”

Yuan Fei shrugged, “I got As in all my courses, except for foreign languages.”

Han Rong was on the sofa, happily playing a game of “hug and lift high” with Demolition.

Seeing no one else stepping up, Bai Xinhuai put down the test tube, walked over, glanced at the computer screen, and said indifferently, “The paper’s title is *Entering the Gates of Hell: The Insane and the Sane*. It discusses ‘the possibility of opening the psychological gates to hell and turning some people into complete lunatics’ and ‘the possibility of closing these gates and curing these lunatics’. The author proposed an innovative treatment method—text therapy, which uses written words to hypnotize and treat patients, similar to music therapy.”

Author’s Note:

This case will be resolved, followed by another major case, and then it will conclude. In fact, some readers had already guessed part of the foreshadowing earlier.

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Translator Notes

1. Inferno Canto 3[↩]