The Hitzfeld Mysteries by Alice Megatron The world of Changxia is shrouded in weirdness all day long. Every six or seven days, weirdness will invade the dream world and release the evil spirits to affect reality. On this day, the 3D computer graphics of the 1930s and 1940s were played, and the 3D computer graphics of the 1930s and 1940s were played. She has the eyes of truth that can see through illusions on the seventh day. Chapter 1: Resurrection from the dead Many years later, as a detective who had already gained some fame in the royal capital, Wayne Port, facing a dusty and exhausted man from the city of Wuthering Heights, Hitzfeld could not help but recall the afternoon when he came back to life. At that time, she was not called this name, but Leng Qing. Her actual memory of being Leng Qing only lasted from when she could remember until she was about sixteen years old. At that time, she was still a boy with a quarter of foreign blood in her body. During one summer vacation, she was taken by a servant to a relative's estate abroad to escape the heat and play. As for why they weren't her parents... she had never seen her parents since she could remember. She only knew that her mother was a mixed-race white woman named Mansoura Hitzfeld. Her father didn't even have a name. Since she could remember, it had always been the servant Aunt Wolfie who took care of her food and daily life, including attending the parent-teacher conferences at her domestic school every semester. So naturally, most of her relatives abroad also have the surname "Hitzfeld", a strange surname that she thought was half British and half German.
The Hitzfeld family is a big family in the local area. But Leng Qing had never heard of their "deeds". They lived far away from the city. It took almost three hours to drive to the manor after getting off the plane. Manor - that's what it means, but in fact, it's not an exaggeration to call it a castle given the grand scale of the house. Her English was already fluent at that time, and she could communicate with relatives with strange names without any obstacles. Those people were very kind to her, including Grandma Kadesan-Hitzfeld, who claimed to be her great-grandmother, and Aunt Anila-Hitzfeld, who claimed to be her aunt. These people also told her that she also had a similar name, "Aisun-Hitzfeld", and they always called her "Aisun" or "Aini" during their days in the manor. Everything seemed pleasant except for one thing: she and the other children were not allowed to go near the backyard. A manor house that can be described as a castle, its backyard is naturally not small. Leng Qing still remembers: walking on a three-meter-long wooden bridge across the stream to the other side, what she saw was a large area of wildly growing trees, branches and leaves, lush weeds, various flowers and plants that she couldn't name mixed in, and a layer of patterned iron fence wall was faintly visible among these things. Also looming behind the wall was a building called the backyard, a standard "Western-style building". The architectural style was the same, exquisite and dignified. Like most people of her age, she could not resist the temptation of curiosity, so she secretly took the key to the backyard gate with her friends, climbed over the iron fence, opened the door and sneaked into the house, and saw that the architectural layout inside was similar to a miniature church. But it’s different from a church. Below the high platform at the front, there was a huge pentagram painted on the ground with a dark red paint, with incomprehensible dark runes painted on the inner corners of each line of the pentagram. Surrounding it were piles of extinguished candles of different lengths, with the bases stuck together by melted wax. In the middle of the pentagram was a worship platform, with six load-bearing columns in two rows around it, connected by six chains wrapped around the platform. Turning around and looking, one could see that each load-bearing column was carved with naked goddess statues in different forms. This kind of scene, which looked like a sacrifice or a seal, frightened the other boys. They stopped outside the range of the pentagram and dared not take a step forward. Only Leng Qing - she remembered that he was the only one who chose to continue moving forward. When he came to the platform, he dragged a bench next to it and placed it below. He stepped on it, stood on tiptoe, and took the things on the platform down. Looking closely, it was a wooden box slightly larger than her palm. The afternoon sun shone through the colorful blinds onto the wooden box. She saw that it was a deep black, but when it reflected the light she could clearly glimpse layer upon layer of exquisite wood grain. At that moment, she heard her companions yelling at her. They said "No! Aisun! Put it back! Or throw it away!" She wanted to do the same. But suddenly there was a confused whisper in her ears. Endless, irregular... It was like ten thousand voices overlapping each other, speaking various languages, with different tones and voices, roaring at her: Open it... Open it! She found herself again, but the box had been opened. There is an eyeball inside. It was a very fresh eyeball. The moist texture, the lively expression, and the dark and white intertwined nerve blood vessels trailing from the back of the eyeball all showed off to her: it was as if it had just been plucked from a body. She locked eyes with it, noticing that its pupils were a very beautiful gradient of dark gold. She stared at the dreamy colors, and gradually fell off the chair, her consciousness falling into endless darkness.
When she woke up again, she found that the world was different. …… "Ms. Hitzfeld." "Ms. Hitzfeld." The brain felt heavy, and even the thinking process was somewhat stagnant. Leng Qing opened her eyes dazedly, but was immediately stimulated by a burst of strong light and quickly closed them again. It felt... like someone was shining a powerful flashlight into her eyes. And what’s up with “Miss Hitzfeld”? Even if he is related to the Hitzfeld family by blood, if he really chooses to move abroad in the future, shouldn't they call him "Mr. Hitzfeld"? Hmm? "Hold on, Miss Hitzfeld," the voice said again. Leng Qing felt a hand pinching his chin, forcing him to turn his head to face the strong light. "Look at it, look at it, and tell me, how many fingers are there?" Leng Qing half-squinted his eyes with great effort, vaguely seeing a figure swaying in front of him. He tried his best to identify the image according to what the other party said, but all he saw was a clenched fist. “…Not even one.” He replied. It seemed that he had not spoken for a long time, and it seemed that he had not drunk water or eaten for a long time. He felt that his voice was hoarse and distorted and unrecognizable. The voice was much sharper than the one I remembered, a bit like the voice he had just entered into the voice change period, but it seemed much better than that voice. "Very good." Qiang Guang left. "No problem, ma'am. This young lady is very conscious and her pupils react normally to light. There shouldn't be anything evil or weird about her." "That would be great. Thank you, Dr. Grimman." A third person's voice was heard in the room. It was obviously from an elderly woman. Her voice was steady and solemn, and it sounded dogmatic and conventional. The owner of this voice might not be easy to get along with... The voices moved a little further away, and with the sound of the door closing, the surroundings finally became quiet. The dizziness in Leng Qing's brain finally faded away a little. He struggled to open his eyes, adjusted himself for a moment, and then moved his body to half sit up. The return of consciousness brought more doubts. First of all, where is this place? Why did that person just now call me "Miss" Hitzfeld? Instinctively, Leng Qing felt that he might no longer be in Hitzfell Manor.
Just as he was about to use his restored vision to look around, he noticed something strange in his body. As he sat up, he felt something soft and smooth like silk constantly scratching his face. He reached out and scooped up a strand of it, holding it in front of his eyes. Without much force, his scalp could already feel the pain of the pulling. Is this... hair? Leng Qing stared at the thing in surprise, in a daze. It was neither white nor silver, but looked a little withered, like gray, the kind of uneven gray that was caused purely by malnutrition. Well, let’s not talk about the unusual hair color for now. Just the fact that his hair had suddenly grown long, combined with the way “Dr. Griman” addressed him just now, made him suddenly have a bad feeling. Looking down, he saw two hills. It's not particularly big, not even close to Auntie Wolfe's bursting size. But he is definitely not small. Considering his own understanding of his age - about 16 or 7 years old, he can be said to be ahead of his development. They were wrapped in a circle of light brown brocade with fine stitches, and the outer edge was embroidered with a layer of white lace. Further down was a double-layered light brown skirt, and in front of the skirt was a pair of delicate feet wrapped in white silk socks. "..."This is definitely not the body that Leng Qing knows. He turned his body to the side in a panic and saw a pair of lovely dark black round-toed leather shoes under the bed - but this was obviously not the time to pay attention to whether a "macho man" should wear such shoes. He just stuffed his feet into the shoes and looked around the room, passing by the elegant and simple long tables, chairs, pianos, and clocks, and quickly rushed to a wardrobe, facing the mirror embedded in it. His breathing almost stopped. The reflection in the mirror shows a very young and distinctive girl. She had slightly curly silver-gray hair that just reached her shoulders. She was wearing a light brown dress with dark blue patterns, black lines, and pure white lace, which was a bit complicated. The neckline of the skirt was very conservative, but it still showed her prominent collarbone. The length of the skirt only covered the middle of her calf, and the stupid leather shoes and white silk anklets could be vaguely seen. She wore a black leather collar around her neck, which formed a sharp contrast with her snow-white skin, adding a hint of taboo charm to the girl's cold temperament. The waist was pulled very tight, making the girl's waist look slender. He thought that such a waist would make him breathless, but in fact he didn't seem to feel any discomfort. The most striking thing was the soft face that was somewhat similar to his original appearance, but had been greatly changed. The eyelashes are very long. The lines at the corners of the eyes are softer and gentler. The blue eyes are much bigger than before. The lips are a little smaller than before. The color is also lighter than before, a slightly dull light brown. Of course, these are not enough to be called "special". The reason I say this is because— He reached out and touched the black eye patch on his left side. "this is……?"
I pressed my fingers on my left eye through the eye patch and eyelid, and felt a stinging sensation when I pressed lightly. A stream of dark red liquid flowed from the blindfold, like tears of blood, leaving marks on this fair and delicate face. Am I... am I blind in one eye? Taking a few steps back, Leng Qing wiped the blood off her face with her hands in panic. Is this some kind of disease? Will the eyes having an impact on the brain if they are so close? The pain is still going on...I'm not going to die from this, am I? The fear of serious injury or even death outweighed the discomfort caused by the gender transition. At this moment, he found that he cared far less about his previous body than he expected. Because he was more afraid of death than he expected. "Medication has just been applied there. Don't touch it with your hands for three hours." A voice came from behind. Turning suddenly, Leng Qing saw the owner of the voice. She was an elderly woman with dark brown hair mostly tied up behind her head. She was wearing a black dress with a waist that went all the way to her ankles. His eyes fell on her chest, and Leng Qing noticed that she was also wearing a silver necklace with a pendant that was a disc-shaped object similar to a sunflower. "Esun Hitzfeld." She suddenly spoke, continuing in the same solemn and dignified voice she had heard before. "What?" Leng Qing was stunned. "Esun Hitzfeld." The other party repeated, "Is that your name?" "How did you know this name?" Leng Qing did not answer her question immediately. She was still somewhat wary of this stranger who suddenly appeared. "Because it's on your tombstone." The woman's answer surprised her. "You mean the tombstone?" "Yes." "Whose tombstone?" "Your tombstone, of course." "This is impossible... How did I get here? Where is this place? Who are you?"
"This is the ancestral home of the Gleh family. I am Mrs. Gleh, an ordinary undertaker." "Undertaker?" Leng Qing repeated softly.