“So after Qu Hui killed Lian Xiaoshuang, she didn’t dispose of the body but fled in a panic,” said Jin Ruo, scratching his head. “Which means there was another person who went back, cleaned up the crime scene, branded the Peach Blossom mark on Lian Xiaoshuang’s body, packed the body into a crate, transported it to the sewage channel, set up a timed mechanism, and arranged for Lian Xiaoshuang’s body to appear at Huanhua Stream the next day — what was this person’s motive?”

No one answered.

Everyone sat in the Judicial Office, staring blankly at the densely packed clue board.

Lian Xiaoshuang’s case was considered closed. The “beloved” slot had been filled with “Wu Zhengqing (deceased),” the “true culprit” marked as “Qu Hui,” and the “murder weapon” labeled “embroidery thread.” A new line had been added for “body disposal” — blank.

Hua Yitang circled the three characters for “Peach Blossom Brand” in red. “Why was the Peach Blossom Brand specifically imprinted on Lian Xiaoshuang’s body?”

Ling Zhiyan said, “To frame the Peach Blossom Serial Killer for the crime, concealing Qu Hui’s guilt?”

Hua Yitang said, “If that is the reason, then this person must have known Qu Hui very well — not only well acquainted, but on very good terms, wanting to protect her. Who could it be?”

Jin Ruo said, “Since marrying Wu Zhengli, Qu Hui barely left her house, and had even grown distant from her own family relatives. The people she was close to, besides that accursed Wu Zhengli — Wu Zhengqing was barely an acquaintance — and neither of those two could possibly have helped Qu Hui, and both have alibis.”

Hua Yitang shook his head, his eyes fixed on the three characters for “Peach Blossom Brand,” murmuring, “Not them — there’s one other person…”

Jin Ruo said, “Who else could it be?”

Lin Sui’an was silent for a long while. “Lian Xiaoshuang.”

At these words, everyone’s scalps crawled, and they all involuntarily recalled Qu Hui’s words:

[Could it be that Little Shuang died unwilling, and her spirit drove her body out the door…]

“Master, could you not say things in such a frightening way?!” Jin Ruo furiously rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. “I spent a whole day digging up graves — I really can’t hear such things right now.”

Lin Sui’an was taken aback. “Digging what graves?”

“Ah, with all the commotion of Wu Zhengqing’s case, I forgot!” Jin Ruo slapped his forehead and hastily gave a brief account of how Wu Da had discovered something suspicious about the charity cemetery the Wu Family had been building, how he and Fangke had found the cemetery, how they had encountered Wuweizi, how they had gone to the mass graves, and how they had found the bones of the white livestock. He particularly embellished at great length his own magnificent scene of fierce combat with Yun Zhong Yue.

“When I and Wu Da tied up Wuweizi, I already felt something was off. This person’s weight was completely inconsistent with his physical appearance, and his footprints had no heel marks,” Jin Ruo slapped his thigh, “Sure enough, it was Yun Zhong Yue in disguise!”

Hua Yitang narrowed his eyes. “In other words, it was Yun Zhong Yue who led you to find the bones of the white livestock?”

Jin Ruo said, “Strangely, Yun Zhong Yue himself seems to have had no idea what was buried in the mass graves.”

Lin Sui’an felt a strange feeling welling up inside her, and couldn’t help but think of Duan Jiu’s man Manqi, and the false mask on Manqi’s face.

Could the person behind Yun Zhong Yue be the Seventh Master?

Those two were actually in cahoots?

Goodness — one sharp in mind, one formidable in combat; one cunning, one troublesome to deal with. This combination was really maddening!

Fangke fiddled with the dissection knife in his hand, visibly somewhat impatient. “Why is Wu Da so slow?”

Before the words had even finished, a clamor of shouts came from outside. A mud-covered court attendant ran in. “Report — Chief Constable Wu has transported the bones from the mass graves back!”

Fangke shot out in a flash — his movements remarkably agile. Everyone hurried out to meet him, and saw a team of court attendants pulling six ox-carts entering the Judicial Office in a grand procession. Each cart was stacked with six coffins. Wu Da stepped forward to report to Hua Yitang first. “Reporting to Military Adviser Hua, this subordinate led men to search the mass graves thoroughly. The similar coffins numbered not twenty, but thirty-six. Following Coroner Fang’s instructions, all were brought back together.”

Hua Yitang nodded. “Very good.”

Fangke, in his red robe, moved among the ox-carts carrying coffins, directing the court attendants to move them and arrange them. All the coffins were unloaded into the courtyard, arranged in four neat rows of six. At the four corners of the courtyard, atractylodes and honey locust were lit and allowed to smolder for the duration of one cup of tea, then he signaled for the coffins to be opened.

By now it was nearly the second quarter-hour of the chou hour. The sky above was pitch black, like a bottomless abyss. The smoke from the atractylodes and honey locust drifted in the night wind, like wandering souls with no home to return to.

Coffin board after coffin board was pried off. Bundle after bundle of ghostly white dry bones was exposed. Lin Sui’an suddenly felt an indescribable chill — a piercing shriek bored in from all directions, drilling into her skull. Her vision was shredded into fragments by countless white flashes, howling and spiraling, rushing into her eyes—

Disaster!

Lin Sui’an hadn’t even managed to make a sound before her entire body fell straight down, stiff as a board. The last thread of her consciousness sank into a sweet, fruit-wood fragrance.

It’s all right, Lin Sui’an thought, with Hua Yitang here, he’ll certainly catch her.

Something wet and slimy crawled up from her ankles, slippery and writhing. She tried to pull this disgusting thing off, but her hands were bound, and no matter how she struggled she could not break free. More and more of those wet, slimy things came, closing in from all directions — ankles, wrists, neck, face, thighs, ribcage… Before long, they covered her entire body.

They squeaked and whined, the sounds unnervingly shrill. Gradually, they became intelligible — not cries but laughter, many people, laughing, singing, cheering, with music — a pipa, drums, a konghou. Sweet, cloying fragrance. Choking smoke. The sharp sting of wine. Bizarre images flickered past like a spinning lantern — carved beams and painted rafters, resplendent gold and jade. Countless twisted, laughing faces floated past and then drifted away. Finally she could make out the disgusting things on her body — they were the claws of wild beasts, roaming, caressing, tearing, pressing down a mass of filthy marks—

Suddenly, a bolt of white light pierced through her body, nearly tearing her in two. Everything turned blood-red. Harrowing screams and sobbing howled toward her. Her body became a stone and dropped into a swamp, submerged by black, fetid mud, covering her mouth and nose, sinking down, down, down…

Then came endless darkness.

All sounds faded away. All light vanished. Only the smell of blood and earth remained in her nostrils — the scent of death.

The darkness lasted a very long time, like a dream from which one would never wake.

Suddenly, a trace of floral fragrance appeared — faint, gentle, caressing the hair at the crown of her head.

A faint light appeared before her eyes, beckoning her to stand and slowly walk forward. That thread of flower-scented light struck at the shell of darkness, once, once, and once again. The shell cracked, and more light poured in — gauzy and hazy, like light silk. A cluster of fiery-red begonia bloomed intensely at the end of the light. A person stood amid the fragrance, dressed in a silk skirt, hair dark as ink, turning her head around and smiling brilliantly, revealing two small, white little tiger-tooth incisors.

It was Lian Xiaoshuang.

“Ding-ling, ding-ling, ding-ling.”

The chime sound came from a faraway, faraway place. Lian Xiaoshuang’s smile grew wider still, and she pointed toward the source of the chime — in the direction of the light—

Lin Sui’an opened her eyes.

A silver wind chime hung overhead. Beneath the wind chime was not a paper tag but a crudely made green bamboo tube. When the wind blew, the bamboo tube swayed — ding-ling, ding-ling — scattering fragments of bright sunlight.

Lin Sui’an was slightly dazed. Her gaze swept around. She was still in the Judicial Office. Beneath her was a wide sleeping couch that looked like Fangke’s personal fixture. Hua Yitang sat at the bedside, one hand propping his cheek, the other holding her wrist. His long lashes trembled faintly in the chime’s sound. Lin Sui’an thought of flower stamens in the spring breeze.

The night had passed, and dawn had broken.

Lin Sui’an gently breathed out.

Hua Yitang’s eyelids stirred. He shot upright, looked around in a daze — still half-asleep — and upon seeing Lin Sui’an, broke into a wide smile. “You’re awake?”

Lin Sui’an nodded. She pushed herself up with her arms. Hua Yitang quickly tucked two large, soft cushions behind her. Only then did Lin Sui’an realize that her entire body was aching and sore, with no strength whatsoever, as though she had crawled twenty li of mountain road overnight.

Sure enough — the stronger the deceased’s obsession, the greater the side effect of her golden gift. Those white livestock must have been in extreme terror at the moment of death, giving rise to such a powerful obsession.

Lin Sui’an rubbed her temples. “What time is it?”

“The second quarter-hour of the chen hour. You slept for three full hours.” Hua Yitang observed Lin Sui’an’s condition carefully. “Are you— how do you feel?”

“It’s fine, I’m just a bit tired.”

Hua Yitang’s throat bobbed. “What did you see?”

“Many wild-beast claws on my body… no, they should have been human hands. There was laughter, screaming, chaos, pain, and… disgust…” Lin Sui’an closed her eyes, her stomach churning, nearly bringing up its contents.

Suddenly, a gentle fruit-wood fragrance wrapped around her. Lin Sui’an opened her eyes in surprise and found that Hua Yitang had gently embraced her, his palm softly patting her back.

This fellow’s perfume was especially pleasant today. Lin Sui’an’s nausea weakened somewhat. “What is the name of your perfume today?”

Hua Yitang’s shoulders twitched. He abruptly shrank back, releasing Lin Sui’an, his eyes darting about. “Mu Xia made a new blend — it’s called… Plum Blossom Snow, Pear Blossom Moon, Lovesick Begonia, a Sprig of Spring…”

“Begonia…” Lin Sui’an murmured. She had only seen Lian Xiaoshuang’s corpse, never her living appearance — why would she dream of her, so vivid and vibrant?

Or perhaps that was not her dream, but some memory belonging to the white livestock?

Or perhaps — Lian Xiaoshuang’s spirit had entered her dream, wishing to tell her something?

“There is a crucial detail we missed in Lian Xiaoshuang’s case.” Lin Sui’an said.

Hua Yitang lowered his eyelids. “You mean this, don’t you.”

As he spoke, he drew from his sleeve the piece of evidence that had served as the murder weapon — the begonia-embroidered silk handkerchief that Qu Hui had kept on her person. Half a cluster of begonias was as though cleft by a sharp blade, the cut astonishingly clean, able to perfectly join with the embroidery rubbing from the earlier crime scene to form one complete begonia cluster.

“Qu Hui said that Lian Xiaoshuang had completed the embroidery before she died,” Hua Yitang said. “Yet what we found at the crime scene was only half of the embroidered work.”

“Elder Shen said that the embroidery had originally been completed, but was then unraveled and re-embroidered as only the half — and the stitchwork was not consistent with Lian Xiaoshuang’s technique. If it wasn’t done by Qu Hui, it was done by whoever disposed of Lian Xiaoshuang’s body.”

Lin Sui’an recalled the earlier clues one by one and reasoned aloud. “In other words, when Qu Hui left, the embroidery was still intact. Therefore it would have been impossible for Qu Hui to have embroidered a perfectly fitting half-panel of begonias using the murder thread. So this silk handkerchief should have been embroidered by the person who disposed of the body, and later somehow ended up in Qu Hui’s possession.”

Hua Yitang frowned and nodded in affirmation.

Lin Sui’an looked at Hua Yitang’s expression and felt an ominous premonition rising in her heart.

“Where is Qu Hui?”

Hua Yitang was silent for a long moment. “You suddenly fainted. Coroner Fang administered medicine and acupuncture for you and said you had merely fallen into deep unconsciousness. I… all of us were frightened out of our wits at the time, our minds in total disarray, and for a time we all overlooked the flaw in this handkerchief. By the time we noticed, more than an hour had already passed. Judicial Supervisor Ling rushed to the prison to bring Qu Hui in for further questioning — but —” Hua Yitang’s eyes reddened. “Qu Hui is dead.”

Lin Sui’an’s head rang like a struck bell. She clutched Hua Yitang’s wrist. “How did she die?!”

“She secretly ate counterfeit Hundred-Flower Tea she had hidden in her hair bun. The vomit blocked her airway, and she suffocated to death.” Hua Yitang said quietly. “It turns out that Wu Zhengli had once forced her to inhale the smoke of Longshen Fruit, yet she had never spoken of it.”

“Where did she get the counterfeit Hundred-Flower Tea from…” Lin Sui’an asked the first half of the question, already knowing the answer in her heart.

It must have been found in Wu Zhengqing’s room. Qu Hui had seen Ma Biao and his people suffering the effects of the poison at the Qiuyue Tea House, so of course she knew what would happen after swallowing the counterfeit tea. This had been her plan all along.

The wind chime went ding-ling, ding-ling. Lin Sui’an’s eyes burned. She pushed herself up out of bed. “Take me to see her.”

Hua Yitang grabbed her elbow, his brow creased into a deep knot.

Lin Sui’an’s gaze was resolute. “I must go.”

Hua Yitang’s eyes flashed red. His jaw tightened, his chest heaving sharply several times. He crouched down and helped Lin Sui’an put on her shoes, then turned his back to the couch and said softly, “I’ll carry you there.”

Side Story — One hour earlier.

Mu Xia watched as Hua Yitang tied a bamboo tube beneath the marriage destiny wind chime, puzzled. “This bamboo tube looks somehow familiar.”

“This is the one Qian Jing split for me when Lin Sui’an and I competed in the Imperial Examination Games. It can ward off evil.” Hua Yitang gazed steadily at Lin Sui’an’s pale sleeping face. “It will surely help her wake up sooner.”

Mu Xia: “…”

Using a bamboo tube that Lin Niangzi herself split to ward off evil for Lin Niangzi? This is truly a solution only the fourth young master could come up with. Brilliant!