Chapter 6: Appearances Can Be Deceiving

“Holy crap!” Director Wang exclaimed in a sharp, panicked voice, flinging the severed arm away from him. A portly, middle-aged man leapt half a meter into the air, his hands still trembling.

“Where did this thing come from?!” Director Wang clutched his chest, his heart still racing.

The prop master, who was just regaining his composure, answered honestly, “I have no idea.”

After all, this was a whole arm, not something as trivial as hair or fingernails you could pick up anywhere. This could easily become a homicide investigation.

Standing at the back, Mo Fei’s eyes lit up the instant he saw the arm fly through the air. He stepped forward, examining it with great interest as he spoke.

“Judging by the size, girth, and hair on this arm, it likely belonged to an adult woman.” He crouched down to study the severed end. “The cut clearly shows signs of life—she was alive when it was chopped off.”

Director Wang’s facial muscles twitched. “Ch-chopped off? How can you tell?”

“It’s quite simple,” Mo Fei pointed at the cut. “Look at the bone—it’s jagged, and there are flaps of flesh on the muscle. These are classic wounds from repeated hacking.”

As he finished speaking, the bystanders involuntarily shuddered.

Realizing the atmosphere was getting tense, Mo Fei quickly reassured them, “No need to be too frightened. Judging from these marks, the perpetrator had to raise the blade high to barely manage dismemberment—so the person isn’t particularly strong.”

He raised his arm to demonstrate. “Just be careful not to wander off alone. Any three or five grown men could easily overpower the killer.”

“You just said, the killer?” The prop master raised his hand cautiously to ask. “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous? What if the person isn’t dead yet?”

Mo Fei blinked, then pointed to the hand at the end of the arm. “All the fingers have been smashed. Do you know what that means?”

The prop master ventured a guess, “Did the person cut off their own hand because they couldn’t stand the pain in their fingers?”

This time, the bystanders stopped shuddering, turning their gazes as one toward the prop master, their silent disbelief evident.

Mo Fei wagged his index finger, “No, think carefully—what do fingers have?”

“Fingerprints!” Director Wang caught on. “Was this to destroy the fingerprints?”

“Exactly.” Mo Fei gave him an approving look. “The arm was chopped off while the person was alive, then the fingerprints destroyed. If you think further, the intention is obvious.”

“Dismemberment, destruction of identification to prevent the police from identifying the victim, making it impossible to investigate.” Mo Fei stroked his chin as he speculated. “Even if the other body parts are found, there probably won't be any useful information, and the head certainly won’t be found.”

He paused, realizing he’d been too absolute, and amended, “Or rather, the head will definitely not be found intact.”

After finishing, he took out his phone.

Director Wang was immediately alert. “What are you doing?!”

“Calling the police, of course,” Mo Fei replied matter-of-factly. “Unless you want to keep this?” He gestured at the arm.

Director Wang’s face turned green.

Reporting it would delay shooting. But if he didn’t, with so many witnesses, it’d be impossible to keep it quiet. And if the real owner of the arm came looking for him at night because he hadn’t reported it, what then?

People of his age inevitably had their superstitions. After a moment’s thought, Director Wang waved his hand, “Go ahead, call.”

Mo Fei swiped his screen and pulled up a WeChat call instead of dialing 110. A shard of glass flashed across the screen as he dialed.

The call was quickly answered. Officer Xiao Xu’s vibrant young voice came through the earpiece, “Hello, good citizen! When are you coming in to give your statement? That young lady left you a thank-you gift and a banner.”

Everyone nearby looked at Mo Fei suspiciously when they heard about a statement—almost as if they were ready to apprehend a criminal on the spot. But when they heard the part about a thank-you gift and banner, they relaxed.

Ah, so he hasn’t broken the law.

That was a relief.

Unaware that he’d nearly been tackled to the ground, Mo Fei cheerfully greeted Officer Xu, “Sure, I’ll come by when I’m done here. By the way, I’m at the film set now. Is this under your jurisdiction too?”

Officer Xu’s tone immediately became more serious. “Of course. What happened? Poisoning, hidden cameras, or did you catch a human trafficker? I’ll be right there!”

Mo Fei hurried to clarify, “No, no, nothing like that. What are the odds of running into two human trafficking cases in one day? It’s actually quite simple—our crew found an arm.”

Officer Xu sounded like he couldn’t believe his ears. “You found what?”

“An arm,” Mo Fei replied, then added, “and it doesn’t look like medical waste.”

He’d been both tactful and direct enough. Officer Xu clearly understood and, after a curt “Send me the address,” hung up.

Now that the call was over, Director Wang finally spoke up, a bit cautiously, “Um, Mo Fei, are you... close with the police?”

Making a police report as casually as chatting—was that normal?

Mo Fei, recalling how often he’d been at the station recently, nodded slowly. “Very close.”

The onlookers, Director Wang included, were instantly awestruck.

Unless you had a police officer in the family, who would be that familiar with the cops?

Considering Mo Fei’s reaction upon seeing the severed limb and his overall demeanor, everyone’s imagination started running wild.

Director Wang’s imagination ran the wildest of all.

A director needs a vivid imagination, and while the situation was alarming, the inspiration it sparked was pouring out like a flood.

At least, Director Wang was no longer afraid. He was even tempted to find his screenwriter partner and start drafting a script.

While waiting for the police to arrive, Director Wang, following Mo Fei’s suggestion, had everyone leave the prop area to preserve the crime scene.

Though, truth be told, the scene was already pretty much compromised—the arm had passed through both the prop master’s and Director Wang’s hands, tossed back and forth, wiping out any evidence.

Still, appearances had to be maintained.

When Lu Chunqiu arrived at the set, she immediately sensed something was off.

There was an indescribable, but distinctly odd, atmosphere among the crew. It felt less like they were filming a battle royale and more as if they were living through one themselves.

Lu Chunqiu had never worked with a director of Wang’s caliber and felt uneasy. Maybe this was just an eccentric habit of a famous director?

She grabbed a crew member at random to ask, “Excuse me, do you know where Mo Fei is? The one auditioning for the fifth male lead today?”

The crew member looked a bit annoyed at first, but once he realized who she was asking about, his expression shifted to one of awe. “You mean Mo Fei?”

Lu Chunqiu was puzzled by his reaction but nodded hesitantly.

He pointed her in the right direction. “Over there, with Director Wang.”

“Thank you.”

As she headed that way, she could still overhear the crew member muttering under his breath—how appearances can be deceiving.