After the three thoroughly explored Luo Chengye’s house, the time had reached the end of the yin hour. It was the start of autumn, so dawn came early—sunrise was expected at the beginning of the mao hour. Shisan Lang should have returned to Lianhua Temple for morning roll call, but having not acted together with Wei Xun and Bao Zhu for so long, he dawdled and showed reluctance to leave.

Bao Zhu also pitied him having to return to hunger, and seeing roadside breakfast stalls setting up their stoves, tables and chairs, she told him to eat his fill before going. The three sat down on the street and ordered several bowls of wontons.

The stall owner wasn’t as enthusiastically soliciting business as usual, but first embarrassedly mentioned the price—already three times more expensive than ten days ago. This was because the city blockade had disrupted the flow of goods, making it very difficult to obtain rice, flour, and vegetables, requiring countless connections. After selling his stored wheat flour, he wouldn’t dare continue operating. The wonton filling was also limited to pickled turnips only. Compared to the Wu Zhiyuan household’s daily fish, meat, and rare vegetables that never repeated, civilian supplies were already becoming severely strained.

Bao Zhu found his explanation reasonable and agreed to the price. The stall owner quickly lit the fire to boil soup, and the three sat at the table, enjoying their last moments together before parting.

The dawn light at the horizon was already showing a faint fish-belly white edge. The air was moist and cool, with dew dampening the moss on the stone steps. Everything before them appeared green and clear, as if thoroughly washed with clean water.

Lianhua Temple’s morning bell rang as scheduled. Perhaps because the monk striking the bell wasn’t eating enough, the bell sound wasn’t as resonant and deep as before, but rather ethereal and melodious. Though they were right next to the monastery, it seemed to come from an extremely distant place.

Everyone was affected by this peaceful and harmonious morning atmosphere, temporarily stopping their conversation and simply immersing themselves in it. Even the bird songs seemed to pause momentarily.

Bao Zhu felt moved. Seeing a tree branch hanging over the table with dewdrops condensing into a pool, she extended her index finger from her sleeve, dipped her fingertip in the dew, and slowly wrote on the table surface: “Entering the ancient temple at dawn, the early sun illuminates the tall forest.”

This was a landscape poem by Chang Jian, a jinshi from the Kaiyuan era. This man’s official career was long unsuccessful, so he devoted himself to mountains, waters, and pastoral life. His verses were refined and natural, possessing a unique quality of serene remoteness.

This opening line was simple and lively, matching the current scenery, and used the most common characters, making it most suitable for beginners. Bao Zhu wrote it out for Wei Xun to see, deliberately writing extremely slowly so he could clearly see the stroke order and structure.

Wei Xun immediately focused his gaze on her scallion-white fingertips, concentrating fully on watching her write.

The temple’s empty and resonant bell sounds continued unbroken. Neither spoke—one silently writing, one silently watching.

Seeing his willingness to learn, Bao Zhu continued writing all the way to the end: “All sounds are silent here, only the bell and chime remain.” The morning bell’s lingering echoes still curled around their ears. Looking back at what she had finished writing, she felt that these characters written with dewdrops on this roadside wonton stall table were actually better than what she had previously written with expensive ink and brushes, making her quite pleased with herself.

Looking at Wei Xun again, he remained motionless as if in meditation, holding his breath and concentrating as he stared at her writing to memorize it carefully. Only after the dew-moistened traces gradually dried did he extend one finger and seriously trace over the characters her fingertip had traced.

Watching from the side, Bao Zhu became increasingly amazed. Though Wei Xun was young, he was truly a genius who had been practicing martial arts since he could walk. Not only was his lightness skill supreme, but his internal energy was also extremely deep. As his finger passed over the wooden table, though it seemed effortless, the wood had already been pressed inward, leaving finger traces as if a stone carver had chiseled the poetry with tools. What amazed her even more was that he hadn’t written a single stroke order incorrectly—he had memorized it all.

Bao Zhu felt moved thinking of his perseverance and diligence in lying on the county school roof to steal lessons regardless of cold, heat, clear skies, or rain—what determination that required, completely different from ordinary people who needed threats and bribes to be forced to study.

She didn’t know that Wei Xun used the method of memorizing martial arts techniques to remember stroke order, integrating fists and feet with brush strokes so he could understand using what he had learned. Where there were common patterns and rules, he could remember them as general principles, and from this he could draw inferences, applying one principle to many cases, comprehending many characters she hadn’t taught him.

Bao Zhu sighed, “Teaching you this way is much easier than teaching Li Yuanyi.”

After Wei Xun finished writing the last character and turned around, she realized there was someone behind them. Looking back, she saw a lame man with a walking stick standing not far away, peering at their table. This person had distinctive features—tall, thin, and gaunt with a bitter expression, his left leg withered from the knee down. She recognized him immediately as someone she had seen two days ago leading fellow craftsmen to the county office to plead with Bao Lang to open the city gates for passage, only to return disappointed.

Fortunately, she had been wearing a veil and face covering then and hadn’t spoken, so she probably wouldn’t be recognized. Bao Zhu said displeasedly, “I’m teaching my student—what are you staring at?”

The lame man said, “When women in this world practice calligraphy, they like to learn Madam Wei’s ornate small regular script for its graceful elegance. Though you’re young, miss, your writing is vigorous and forceful, clean and decisive—you have real strength.”

Hearing his accurate assessment, Bao Zhu was actually impressed and nodded in acknowledgment: “I learned from Liu Gongquan.”

The lame man nodded approvingly, “Yan’s sinews and Liu’s bones—good judgment.”

Listening from the side, Wei Xun thought that calligraphy, like martial arts, had schools and styles. From just a few dozen characters, like an exchange of moves, a stranger could recognize the other’s teacher and style. This person could also deduce from Bao Zhu’s writing that her physical strength was greater than ordinary women—quite unexpected.

The lame man then pointed at Wei Xun accusingly, “Your original writing was quite good, but unfortunately he’s ruined it by tracing over it—a pearl covered in dust, completely ruined!” He shook his head and sighed with great regret.

Wei Xun didn’t mind and nodded with a smile in acknowledgment. Bao Zhu was displeased and said irritably, “He’s just learning—writing like this is already very good. Were you born knowing how to write beautifully?”

The lame man walked forward two steps, wanting to continue saying something, but Bao Zhu smelled an extremely foul odor emanating from him. This stench was different from others—penetrating to the brain and nauseating. She hadn’t received training in this area, and now without the protection of soap beans and face cloth, she couldn’t help but frown deeply.

The lame man also knew he had an odor. Seeing the disgust on her face, he said nothing more, leaned on his walking stick and stepped back several paces. After exchanging a few words with the wonton stall owner, apparently finding the price too high, he shook his head and slowly limped away.

Only after the tapping sound of his walking stick on the stone slabs gradually faded did Wei Xun say, “That man probably has malignant sores—that’s the smell of rotting flesh.”

Hearing it was due to illness rather than poor hygiene, Bao Zhu felt somewhat ashamed and said regretfully, “Though he’s disabled, he’s quite knowledgeable. I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

Wei Xun said, “You’ve never smelled it before—being unable to tolerate it is normal. I’m afraid he won’t live much longer.”

After the three finished their morning meal, Bao Zhu gave the stall owner some extra money and asked him not to mention the table incident. Shisan Lang returned to Lianhua Temple to continue his confinement, while Wei Xun escorted Bao Zhu back to the Reflection Study.

Bao Zhu said, “If Luo Chengye is still alive, as long as we can find him and clarify whose headless corpse it is, we can clear one layer of suspicion from you. The question is where could he be hiding? He’s quite a famous person in Xiagui County—how could he hide until now without anyone discovering him?”

Wei Xun said, “I have some guesses and have already asked Shisan Lang to keep watch. Now it’s just a matter of waiting for the rabbit by the tree stump.”

Bao Zhu was both surprised and displeased: “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Wei Xun smiled, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you miss it. I’m just afraid I might be wrong—wouldn’t want to harm innocent people.”

When they reached the street outside the Reflection Study, Wei Xun again hid Bao Zhu’s bow and arrows in the treetop, then without asking, once more grabbed her waistband and lifted her to the second floor. Bao Zhu experienced being a rice sack again and was quite displeased, saying angrily, “Can’t you…”

Wei Xun asked puzzledly, “Can’t what?”

Bao Zhu didn’t know what the proper way for a lightness skill expert to help someone climb to upper floors was. Momentarily stumped by his question, she wondered whether he was deliberately teasing her, avoiding contact due to propriety, or finding it inconvenient to carry her because of his injured hand. Unable to voice any opinion, she huffily crawled through the window.

Yang Xingjian had been sitting by the wall waiting all night and had fallen asleep with his hands tucked in and head tilted. Hearing her enter, he suddenly woke up and asked drowsily, “Are you alright? Were you frightened?”

Bao Zhu shook her head, “I’m fine. We have leads regarding Luo Chengye. Today I want to ask Bao Lang to show me that note.”

Hearing this, Yang Xingjian immediately objected: “This is inappropriate! Bao Lang is a person with wolfish ambitions and ulterior motives. Let me negotiate with him instead.”

Bao Zhu didn’t understand Yang Xingjian’s hint and said strangely, “He’s the one who actively communicates with me about the case every day. Wouldn’t it be easier for me to request it?”

Yang Xingjian smiled bitterly, thinking she truly didn’t understand, and quickly said, “Princess, you’ve been busy all night and are too exhausted. Rest is urgent—these trivial matters can wait until after you’ve slept.”

Bao Zhu covered her mouth and yawned, drowsily thinking he was quite right, and went to change clothes and catch up on sleep.

Unexpectedly, today Bao Lang visited the prison and after inspecting newly captured prisoners, came directly to the Reflection Study under the pretense of visiting the sick, requesting to personally see Lady Fangxie. Though his tone was polite, it maintained his usual aggressive and domineering attitude.

Bao Zhu, who hadn’t slept long before being dragged up again, was quite angry. However, forced by circumstances, she could only change clothes to meet him. Since she looked quite healthy, she had to apply some powder to her face and lips to create a pale, haggard appearance.

Bao Lang watched her supporting herself on the railing as she slowly made her way down from the second floor, saying with a smile, “You can still walk—that’s quite good. I was thinking of calling some doctors to check your pulse and see exactly where you were frightened.”

Bao Zhu was secretly alarmed, thinking that while appearance could be faked, a pulse examination would expose everything. This man was relentlessly pressing forward and so shrewd—truly detestable.

The maidservant helped the “weak and dizzy” Lady Fangxie to her seat and specially poured her medicinal tea with poria and angelica. Bao Zhu covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, pulled a long face, and stared coldly at Bao Lang without speaking.

Yang Xingjian said angrily, “Have you seen enough? This torment will make her illness worse by two degrees! What exactly is your purpose? Just come talk to me directly—why must you torment a young girl?!”

Bao Lang was unconcerned and said with a smile, “It’s not that I particularly want to make things difficult for Lady Fangxie. It’s just that the stolen pearl hasn’t been recovered yet, so I must use every available means urgently—truly unavoidable. I ask Lady Fangxie’s understanding.”

Yang Xingjian said strangely, “My daughter is a person—how can you use her to search for stolen goods? Absolutely nonsensical!”

Bao Lang said seriously, “That pearl-stealing Green Shirt Guest is still lingering in Xiagui City—this is highly unusual. Based on speculation, he has no other purpose and must be coveting Lady Fangxie’s beauty, determined to succeed before giving up. I can only use you as bait to see if I can lure him out.”

These words were truly offensive. Bao Zhu frowned and turned her face away. Yang Xingjian flew into a rage: “Slanderous gossip! Are the women of my Hongnong Yang clan something a mere military man like you can defame?! Since you’re so certain it was that martial world master thief who committed the crime, why are you still daily searching and arresting unrelated people? I heard you’ve already tortured over ten innocent suspects to death—do you think you can easily escape responsibility for these lives?!”

Bao Lang said, “Who says only he committed the crime? From Luo Chengye, we know he definitely has other accomplices. This person excels at lightness skills and can escape pursuit, but his accomplices might not. As long as we catch one person in the know, we can naturally follow the vine to find the melon and solve the case.”

Yang Xingjian continued, “Speaking of your urgency to solve the case, Wu Zhiyuan said a note was left at the crime scene. Such important evidence—why have you never mentioned it to us?”

Bao Lang’s expression changed as he said coldly, “Minister Yang, please assess the situation. I am the chief investigator of the pearl theft case. You are merely assisting with the investigation—there’s no need for you to know every trivial detail.”

Yang Xingjian said, “So you refuse to show it to us?”

Bao Lang’s gaze was stern as he slowly shook his head.

Yang Xingjian immediately stood up, helped Bao Zhu to her feet, and said stiffly, “Then let’s go upstairs to rest. If we keep breathing this unlucky, gloomy wind, I’m afraid she’ll feel nauseous and uncomfortable again.”

As Yang Xingjian helped his daughter return to the upstairs bedroom, when she slowly passed by him, Bao Lang lowered his head out of propriety but couldn’t help taking a deep breath, once again smelling the auspicious borneol fragrance emanating from her body. For a moment, his heart and mind wandered.

This subtle behavior was well concealed, but today, somehow, a trace of cold, murderous intent brushed past like a sharp blade passing over his neck. Bao Lang immediately shivered and quickly looked around, but found nothing unusual. He couldn’t help feeling puzzled—had he really killed too many people recently?