He had recently grown accustomed to examining corpses alongside Yan Qing, and now that she had suddenly stepped back, he feared he would lose his confidence.

“I’ve already told you the key points — the rest is up to you,” Yan Qing said with a smile. “You need to become a forensic examiner who can stand on your own.”

“But what if I can’t find any clues?” E’Yuan asked anxiously. “That would delay the case.”

Yan Qing sighed inwardly. It seemed E’Yuan had been relying on her too heavily lately. The arrogance he once carried had been worn away almost entirely, and he now resembled an eager yet deeply insecure child.

“If you run into a problem you can’t solve, come and ask me then.” Yan Qing gave him a thumbs-up. “I believe you can do it.”

“But…” E’Yuan was about to say something more when Bai Jin had already grabbed him by the arm.

“You can’t keep pointing to Sixth Miss to help you. Don’t forget — you’re the forensic examiner of the Military Police Division.”

E’Yuan glanced at the body on the ground and let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. This time I’ll make sure to produce results worthy of my mentor. Worst case, if I can’t find any leads, I’ll go begging for help.”

Once Yan Qing had walked far enough away, one of the attendants grew curious and asked, “How is our Sixth Miss so familiar with the people from the Military Police Division?”

A young officer glanced at him. “Sixth Miss is a valued guest of our Division Commander. She’s helped us crack two major cases, and even our own Dr. E has taken her on as a mentor. Wherever Sixth Miss goes, the dead speak — no killer can hide.”

At those words, the attendants exchanged startled looks. Was this really the Sixth Miss they knew?

E’Yuan was still bent over the body, his brow furrowing now and then when he encountered a difficult point. Just as he was fully absorbed in his work, a sudden chill crept up from behind.

He turned around. All he saw were a few attendants and curious onlookers — the attendants looking helpless, the servants pointing and whispering. No one suspicious.

E’Yuan shook his head, told himself he was overreacting, and bent back down to focus.

~

After the Military Police Division finished collecting evidence and took Liu Qi’s body away, the sky — which had been clear moments before — suddenly darkened with clouds. Rain poured down in torrents. By evening, the downpour had weakened to a fine, persistent drizzle that refused to stop.

The kitchen had made Western-style pastries that evening, and a portion was sent to every courtyard.

Jing Zhi went to the kitchen to collect their share, while Murong headed to the side room to heat water for the evening bath.

Raindrops pattered against the leaves outside the window, washing the newly sprouted tender foliage to a deeper shade of green.

Listening to the rain, Yan Qing turned a page of the book in her hands and absently reached for her teacup. The tea had gone cold.

“Jing Zhi, bring me a fresh cup.” She remained focused on the ink-printed words and did not notice the dark shadow drawing closer behind her.

“Jing Zhi.” Hearing footsteps, before Yan Qing could even turn around, a palm struck the back of her neck with sudden force. The sharp pain consumed her, and she lost consciousness.

“Miss.” Jing Zhi came trotting back with the pastries she had just collected, bubbling with excitement. “Miss, today’s pastries smell absolutely wonderful.”

She stepped into the room to find the desk empty. The medical text Yan Qing had been reading lay on the floor.

Jing Zhi quickly set down the tray, spun around, and nearly collided with Murong, who had just returned with flushed cheeks from tending the boiling water. “What is it? Why are you in such a panic?”

“Where is Miss? Have you seen her?”

“Isn’t Miss in her room reading?” Murong glanced past her, and her heart gave a sudden lurch — but she kept her composure. “Don’t worry yet. She may have stepped out.”

“That’s impossible. It’s raining outside, and her umbrella is right here, untouched. She wouldn’t go out without it. Besides, the roads are muddy — her wheelchair can’t manage.”

“I’ll search around. You go tell the Master right away and have him send people to help look. Miss is frail — if she really went out in the rain, she could catch a chill.” Murong handed an umbrella to Jing Zhi. “Go quickly.”

Jing Zhi didn’t even stop to open the umbrella. She dashed out into the rain and arrived at the Master’s quarters soaking wet.

In her alarm, she forgot all propriety and didn’t notice there were guests in the sitting room. She called out in a voice barely holding back tears: “Master, something’s wrong — Miss has disappeared!”

Master Yan was about to scold her for her carelessness, but the moment he heard that Yan Qing was missing, he lost all composure himself and shot to his feet. “What did you say? Yan Qing is gone?”

“Miss was just in her room reading, and when I came back with the pastries, she was nowhere to be found. With rain this heavy and Miss unable to move freely, she couldn’t possibly have gone out on her own.” Jing Zhi sobbed. “Master, please — help find Miss.”

Master Yan turned to go without thinking, then remembered he had an important guest and turned back to bow apologetically. “Director Shi, forgive me — there is an urgent matter at home. I must go first.”

Shi Ting rose as well. “I’ll go with you, Master Yan.”

Master Yan thought of Shi Ting’s position with the Military Police Division. If he could help, all the better.

“I’m grateful for your assistance, Director Shi.” Master Yan had no time for further courtesies and hurried out of the sitting room.

Shi Ting had come merely to collect medicine for his mother, and yet he was now caught up in Yan Qing’s sudden disappearance. He knew she was always cautious and quiet by nature, preferring stillness over commotion. If she had meant to go out, she would not have left without telling her two maids.

When they reached Yan Qing’s courtyard, Murong had already searched every corner twice over and was drenched to the bone.

Seeing Master Yan and Shi Ting, she seized on them like a lifeline and quickly relayed everything she knew.

“How can a person just vanish like this?” Master Yan paced anxiously. Steward Song, who had rushed over after hearing the news, was red-eyed with distress. “Search everywhere — send every person in this mansion — bring Yan Qing back.”

Steward Song acknowledged the order and hurried off at once.

Was there anyone in the Yan household who didn’t know that Sixth Miss was the apple of the Master’s eye? If something truly happened to her, the servants would be the first to suffer for it.

“Is there a back gate to this courtyard?” Shi Ting, who had been quietly examining every corner, spoke in a steady voice.

“Yes.” Murong wiped her tears. “On the west side of the rear annex, there’s a small gate — that’s the back entrance. The servants use it to come and go.”

“Take me there.”

Shi Ting and Murong made their way through the mud toward the back gate. The rain outside continued, shifting between heavy and light. The path leading to the gate was paved with cement, and the rain had washed away whatever traces might have been left.

“Wait.” Shi Ting suddenly stopped.

At the back gate was a small covered porch with a roof overhead. Through the porch, turning right led to the Yan family’s garage, and turning left led to the Cyan Garden, where the mansion’s two concubines lived.

Shi Ting aimed his flashlight at the ground beneath the gate and crouched down.

Because of the overhang, this small patch of ground had been sheltered from the rain. On the dry cement — less than half a meter across — were two rows of muddy wheel tracks.

“That’s Miss’s wheelchair!” Murong exclaimed with relief. “Could she have gone over to the concubines’ courtyard?”

“No. She didn’t go alone.” Shi Ting’s brow drew slightly together as he directed the flashlight’s beam with focused precision. “There’s a shoe print here.”

The print was faint, showing only a heel — left behind, most likely, when someone stepped through the porch in a stride.

“The shoe appears to be about a size forty-three. Based on the tread pattern, it’s likely a cloth shoe with thick layered soles. The wheelchair tracks are in front, the shoe print behind — both in a straight line. Someone pushed Yan Qing’s wheelchair out through this gate.”

Hearing that someone had pushed Yan Qing out, Murong felt a cold sense of dread. If Miss had needed help going somewhere difficult, she would have called for her or Jing Zhi. This shoe print — who did it belong to?

“Where does this back gate lead?”

“To the left is the Cyan Garden, to the right is the garage,” Murong said.

“Go to the front gate right now and ask whether any of the Yan family’s cars left during the time Miss went missing.” Shi Ting rose from the ground and put on his military cap. “Yan Qing has been taken.”

At those words, Murong didn’t dare linger a moment longer and ran toward the front courtyard.

“Director Shi, any findings — did you find any clues?” Master Yan saw Shi Ting approaching in long strides and met him with eyes burning with anxious hope, wishing he had six arms to do something himself.

“Sixth Miss appears to have been abducted. But judging by the timing, whoever took her shouldn’t have gotten far.” Shi Ting said, “Master Yan, keep your people searching around the mansion. Leave the outside to me.”

In that moment, Master Yan was utterly at a loss. Without Shi Ting here, he would have fallen completely apart. Yet in his deepest moment of helplessness, this man stood steady as a mountain, holding everything together.

There was no time to hear Master Yan’s thanks. Shi Ting had already moved quickly toward the front gate.

His car was parked just outside. His driver, Old Zhao, had dozed off over the steering wheel and snapped awake at the sound of the door.

Chestnut, who had been curled up in the back seat, lifted its head and wagged its tail twice at the arriving figure.

“Director.” Old Zhao sat up straight. “Back to the residence, or to the Division?”

“Go notify Bai Jin to bring people as backup. I’ll drive.”

“Yes, sir.” Old Zhao asked nothing about what had happened, jumped down from the driver’s seat, and handed it over to Shi Ting.

Shi Ting held out a silk scarf to Chestnut. “Chestnut. Find her.”

He had taken the scarf from Yan Qing’s room just moments ago. Her scent still clung to it.

Chestnut sniffed at it carefully and gave two sharp barks, then scrambled up from the seat and leaped out through the car door.

The moment it landed, Chestnut bolted north without hesitation.

Shi Ting pressed the accelerator and followed behind.

With the rain still washing everything down, Chestnut’s pace was uneven — stopping and starting — but its direction never wavered.

Out of the lane where the Yan family resided, around a small turning road, the dark mass of Cang’er Mountain rose steadily in the rain.

Cang’er Mountain took its name from a precious medicinal herb, the cocklebur plant, that grew there — usually hidden among weeds and difficult to find.

The mountain was not tall, but the surrounding terrain was steep. After driving a stretch, there was no more road. Shi Ting pulled over, donned his rain cape, and made his way up the slope on foot.

Chestnut led the way ahead, growing increasingly agitated as they neared the mountain. Once on the slope, it barked without stopping.

There was no path on the mountain. Shi Ting picked up a branch to clear the way, and when he pushed apart one tangle of brush, he suddenly saw a wheelchair lying abandoned in the grass.