Keep your distance?

Back in her room, Yan Qing could still hear her father’s words echoing in her ears.

She reached into her pocket and took out the two cinema tickets. Her slender fingers traced lightly over the surface of the slips, and gradually her father’s voice faded, replaced by a deep, resonant one.

*”I like you. I like you the way the blazing sun is dazzling, I like you the way a lake is clear and transparent… I like you. I hope to watch the sunrise with you every single day.”*

When she was in school, a particularly outstanding boy had always found reasons to be near her. She had assumed he liked her closest friend, and had gone out of her way to create opportunities for the two of them to be alone together. It was only after graduation that she learned the truth — the boy had liked her all along. But because she had kept pushing him toward her friend, he had gradually developed feelings for that friend instead, and the two had ended up together.

Five years of university — because of an agreement between two families — and she had never been in a relationship at all.

So that when she was with Shen Liang, she had mistaken it for love.

When it came to matters of the heart, she had always been this slow. Far less sharp than the scalpel in her hand.

“Miss, did you go to see a film today?” Jing Zhi’s sudden voice gave Yan Qing a start, and she quickly tucked the cinema tickets into the book beside her.

Jing Zhi giggled. “Was it with Director Shi? What film did you see?”

Yan Qing shot her a look. “Stop guessing.”

“Miss, your face is red,” Jing Zhi said, setting down the basin of hot water. “We can all see it — Director Shi likes you.”

“He likes me?” Yan Qing lifted her head, a flicker of genuine bewilderment in her bright eyes.

“Yes.” Jing Zhi gave an emphatic nod. “Never mind him coming to your rescue like some hero — even the way he looks at you ordinarily is different from how he looks at anyone else. I’ve asked around quietly, and apparently Director Shi doesn’t even keep a personal maid to attend to him. His older brothers all have wives and concubines, and even the second young master of the Shi Family, who isn’t even married yet, has several potential concubines lined up. Director Shi is truly upright and self-disciplined — a paragon of virtue.”

“So he really is that principled,” Yan Qing said, thinking of Shi Ting’s neat, orderly room and his quiet, secluded little courtyard. A warmth stirred in her chest.

“Actually, Miss likes Director Shi too, doesn’t she?” Jing Zhi leaned in, blinking rapidly. “Are you thinking about him right now? Otherwise why would you be sitting there gazing at those cinema tickets with that look on your face?”

“Jing Zhi.” Yan Qing was momentarily exasperated. “I never see you picking up a book to study, and yet right now you’re quoting idioms.”

Jing Zhi suppressed her laughter. “I was moved by the scene before me — the words just came naturally.”

Yan Qing couldn’t help but laugh. “And now you’ve managed to use two at once.”

“Miss, it’s just the two of us here — tell me honestly. Do you really like Director Shi?”

Yan Qing’s face flushed crimson, but instead of deflecting the topic this time, she toyed with the hem of her sleeve, starlight dancing in her eyes. “I don’t know. What counts as liking someone?”

“Actually, I’m not sure either. I’ve never liked anyone before myself.”

“I find myself thinking about him often. When I’m with him I feel safe, and I don’t mind when he gets close.” Yan Qing said softly, “And when we’re alone together, I feel genuinely happy.”

“Then that’s liking him, isn’t it?” Jing Zhi pursed her lips. “But then what about the second young master?”

“Don’t mention him.” Yan Qing made no attempt to hide her distaste. “I’ll find a way to dissolve the engagement.”

The following morning, the large parrot by the window chirped and chattered away: “Yan Qing, good morning.”

“Good morning.” Yan Qing sat up, and once her mind cleared, the conversation with Jing Zhi from the night before came rushing back — and her face felt warm all over again.

“Miss, the master is asking you to come join him for breakfast,” Murong said, lifting the curtain and stepping in.

Master Yan was leaving for another region today to purchase a batch of rare medicinal herbs, and before his departure he had gathered everyone together for the morning meal.

By the time Yan Qing arrived, the large eight-immortals table was already covered with an assortment of small dishes and refreshments.

The Yan Family was fond of Chinese cuisine, and the breakfast spread included fried dough sticks, seven-colored layered steamed buns, eight-treasure porridge, lean pork congee, tofu pudding, soy-braised beef, jellied pork, chicken shreds tossed in scallion oil, salted pickled cucumbers, eight-treasure fermented vegetables, and salted crispy fish — a lavish spread crowding every inch of the table.

Once everyone had gathered, Master Yan announced that the meal could begin, and only then did everyone pick up their chopsticks and bowls. The servants nearby busied themselves ladling porridge and arranging dishes for the family members.

Throughout the meal, only the clinking of utensils could be heard. No one spoke.

After breakfast, while the servants cleared the table, the Fourth Miss, Yan Ling, turned to Yan Qing beside her. “Sixth Sister, you’ve been in good spirits lately, and the weather has been so pleasant. Madam Liu’s household is hosting a poetry gathering — why not come along and enjoy the occasion?”

Yan Qing had no idea which Madam Liu this referred to, nor did she know what a poetry gathering entailed.

“Why would you invite her? What does she know?” Yan Qin muttered with a look of disdain. “Can she write poetry? Does she appreciate the literary arts?”

The poetry Yan Qin referred to was not the classical seven-character regulated verse, but rather the lyric poetry most fashionable in this era — compositions devoted primarily to subjects of nature, romance, and gentle sentiment.

Yan Qing neither wrote poetry nor had any particular interest in it.

“Fifth Sister, please don’t say that — even if one can’t write poetry, one can still listen,” Yan Ling said. “Who wouldn’t enjoy such an elegant occasion? I can see you’ve been cooped up at home all day. It would do you good to get out and about, if nothing else just to pass the time.”

“Qing’er, if you’d like to go, then go,” Master Yan said, signaling his approval. “Watching the occasion is perfectly fine, and you might take the chance to meet some accomplished young ladies, make a few new friends. Madam Liu is warm and hospitable — she won’t make things difficult for you.”

Since Master Yan had spoken, Yan Qing had little choice but to agree pleasantly, turning to Yan Ling beside her. “Fourth Sister, I’ve never been to a poetry gathering before. You’ll have to look after me.”

Yan Ling smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

Yan Qin let out a sound of contempt and turned her head away, her expression full of disdain.

“Fourth Sister, Sixth Sister, may I come too?” The youngest daughter of the Yan household, Yan Yan, rushed over eagerly, blinking her wide, guileless eyes. “I want to see what a poetry gathering is like too.”

Yan Ling smiled. “If Seventh Sister wants to come, of course she may.”

“How wonderful!” Yan Yan clapped her hands in delight.

The poetry gathering was still two days away, and Yan Qing gave it no further thought. Her only concern right now was the outcome of the Yi Zhimei poisoning case.

The samples had already been sent to Shun Cheng University. She didn’t know yet whether there were results — only with definitive evidence could an arrest be made and a conviction secured.

By the second day after the incident, Shi Ting had already received the test results from the Mineral Research Institute at Shun Cheng University. Director Xin had worked through the night to conduct the analysis himself, and by the following evening had produced his findings.

The report stated that large quantities of arsenic compounds had been detected in Yi Zhimei’s fingernails, hair, and bone samples — including arsenic disulfide, commonly known as realgar, and arsenic trioxide, commonly known as arsenic. The dosage was sufficient to cause death.

Director Xin confirmed that the compounds detected in the deceased’s body were consistent with those found in the pills he had been taking.

E’Yuan had also conducted chemical analysis on the human tissue samples Yan Qing had preserved in formaldehyde and had detected arsenic compounds in those as well.

Back at the Military Police Division, the theater troupe’s manager and the others were growing impatient and demanding release.

“We didn’t kill anyone. Why are you still holding us?”

“Exactly! Your own laws here in Shun Cheng state that without sufficient evidence, a person may only be detained for two days. That time is almost up — are you even going to follow the laws you yourselves have set?”

Amid all this shouting and clamoring, a steady, measured footstep was heard approaching from the distance.

The moment Shi Ting appeared, the group fell quiet — every one of them seeming to hold their tongues at once.

“We have found the killer responsible for Yi Zhimei’s death.” Shi Ting said in a low, measured voice.

Mei Wuzi said, “Didn’t Master die of a heart attack?”

Jin Shanghua let out a cold laugh. “Does killing an animal even require a conviction? This was doing the world a service.”

“Whoever the killer is, let us go first,” A Jiu said. “I’m not the killer anyway.”

“Sir, was Yi Zhimei truly murdered?” the manager asked. “If someone killed him, we ought to receive compensation — after all, Yi Zhimei was the troupe’s leading star. With him dead, our whole troupe is finished.”

“Who exactly is the killer?” Jin Shanghua was losing patience. “If you’ve already found the killer, what are you still holding us here for?”

Shi Ting fixed his gaze on the group, and said each word deliberately: “The killer is among you.”

“Among us?” The group exchanged bewildered looks.

Shi Ting sat down in a nearby chair and tossed a ledger onto the table in front of them. “This was found at Yi Zhimei’s residence. It records certain transactions Yi Zhimei conducted away from public knowledge. The last transaction took place at Qingtong Club. Qingtong Club operates a strict membership system — without a membership card, entry is impossible. We found no membership card for Qingtong Club either at Yi Zhimei’s residence or on his person. Therefore, one of you must be carrying a Qingtong Club membership card.”

The moment he finished speaking, the group looked at one another.

A Jiu was the first to step forward. “Search me then. I have nothing like a membership card on me, and I have no idea what Qingtong Club even is.”

Two officers searched A Jiu from head to toe. Nothing was found.

“Next.”

The manager and Jin Shanghua were also searched in turn, both with the same result — nothing.

Only Mei Wuzi remained. He huddled in the corner of the interrogation room, visibly frightened, both hands wringing continuously at the front of his clothes.

When the officers moved to search him, his resistance was plain to see. The outcome came as no surprise — tucked inside an inner pocket of Mei Wuzi’s garment was a card. It was not quite a card in the modern sense, but rather a stamped certificate, and the words “Qingtong Club” were written on it plainly for all to see.

Every eye in the room snapped to the card at once.

“Master told me to keep it for him. I don’t even know what it is,” Mei Wuzi argued in his own defense. “I have no idea what this Qingtong Club is.”

“Membership cards at Qingtong Club are issued under real names, and they come in primary and secondary cards. One visit to the club would be enough to determine who the card belongs to. My guess is that you and Yi Zhimei were arranging to meet with the card’s owner, and so he entrusted this secondary card to you in advance. We have already located the primary card’s owner — he is on his way to the Military Police Division as we speak.”

“I…” Mei Wuzi’s expression grew agitated. “I don’t know anything. I truly don’t know anything. Everything I did was under orders. It was Master who said to go to Qingtong Club, Master who had private dealings with someone else. This has nothing to do with me, and I certainly didn’t kill him.”

“Then explain this.” Shi Ting produced a small packet. Inside it was a powdery white substance. “This arsenic was found during a search of your room. Can you tell me what you intended to do with such a quantity of it?”

—