When evening fell, Yan Qing arrived at Yan Ling’s courtyard to the sound of cheerful voices and laughter already spilling out from within.

The most popular pastime in the Yan Mansion was mahjong — but mahjong was for the married ladies. The unmarried young misses gathered among themselves to read novels or play card games.

These cards were narrow and long, with rules very similar to mahjong — essentially mahjong translated into paper form.

Yan Ling, Yan Yan, and a young female cousin of Yan Ling’s from her mother’s side of the family were already seated around the table when Yan Qing arrived. Yan Ling hurried forward. “Sixth Sister, you’re finally here — we’ve been sitting three short the whole time, dreadfully stuck.”

“Sixth Sister, did you bring money?” Yan Yan grinned. “We’re playing for real stakes, you know.”

Yan Qing said, “I’m afraid I might clean out what little you have.”

Yan Yan stuck her tongue out. “Then Sixth Sister had better bring it on.”

Once they were all seated, Yan Ling began to shuffle the cards.

The game went on until past nine before the gathering broke up. Yan Yan volunteered cheerfully to walk Yan Qing back to her courtyard.

When playing among family members, winning and losing hardly mattered — yet Yan Qing still returned to Yan Yan the money she had won from her. The little girl was overjoyed, clutching the coins and tucking them into her pocket as though they were a treasure.

Yan Yan lingered in Yan Qing’s room, reluctant to leave, until her fear of being scolded by Si Yitai finally drove her away, still visibly reluctant.

The moment Yan Yan left, Dihuai knocked and entered.

“Miss, someone came earlier.”

“Through the back gate?”

“Just as you instructed, I left the back gate slightly unlatched. The person who came in climbed through the window into your room.”

“Could you tell who it was?”

“It was Fourth Miss’s maidservant, Zhier.”

Yan Qing picked up her teacup and took a sip, her expression perfectly calm. “She came in to search the room?”

“I couldn’t see clearly what she was after, but she was carrying a bundle when she left.”

Yan Qing had Jing Zhi open the cabinet nearby. The scarf that had been inside was gone.

“Oh! The scarf — the scarf is gone!” Jing Zhi looked stricken. “That’s the scarf Miss worked so hard to knit for Director Shi — what on earth would those people want with a scarf of all things?”

Indeed. There was nothing particularly precious in her room — yet they had chosen a scarf.

“Ah, now I see.” Yan Qing had not been able to work it out at first, but now a quiet smile touched her lips.

“Miss, what shall we do — should we go to Fourth Miss’s courtyard right now and catch her red-handed?” Jing Zhi was growing agitated.

Yan Qing set down her teacup gently. “There’s no rush. If they want to put on a show, we’ll play along and see where it leads.”

The following day, an invitation arrived from the Shi Family. The venerable Master Jingkong would be delivering a dharma lecture at the Shi Mansion, and the Shi Family matriarch had extended invitations to many of the ladies and young misses of Shun Cheng to come and attend.

Women of this era were, for the most part, devout followers of Buddhism, and the Shi Family matriarch was among the most devout of all — she consulted an eminent master for everything, from weddings and funerals to the smallest affairs of daily life.

Master Jingkong was a monk of great spiritual attainment who wandered without fixed abode. It was only his deep and longstanding friendship with the Shi Family matriarch that led him to promise a visit to the Shi Mansion each year to deliver a lecture.

Yan Qing had no capacity to follow the sutras, but since the invitation had come, there was no reasonable way to decline.

She chose a plain Western-style wool coat from her wardrobe, arranged her hair into two loose braids, and put on a pair of white pinstripe balloon trousers and small leather shoes. The overall effect was youthful and radiant without being ostentatious.

She first practiced walking for a while with Jing Zhi’s assistance, until she could maintain her balance and take several steps forward on her own — only then did she sit back down in her wheelchair to rest.

The fact that Yan Qing could now stand, and even walk a few steps unaided, was known only to a handful of people at the Military Police Directorate. Even Master Yan had been kept in the dark. Yan Qing had her own reasons and plans behind this deliberate concealment.

“I wonder if we’ll see Director Shi today.” Jing Zhi said with a little grin.

“The dharma lecture will be attended only by women — why would he be there.” Yan Qing said this with her mouth, yet in her heart she was quietly hoping they might cross paths. These days, the two of them had been limited to correspondence, while the Military Police Directorate remained impossibly busy on his end — seeing each other in person had become something of a rare privilege.

Yan Qing handed a parcel to Jing Zhi, gave her a few low-voiced instructions, and then the two of them set off at a leisurely pace.

The Shi Family matriarch resided in the South Courtyard, which contained a hall of high-beamed timber construction — the ceiling standing roughly three times the height of an ordinary room. Inside this spacious chamber, incense smoke curled and drifted, and a Buddha statue stood in offering. The statue was not large, but its entire surface was gilded.

The Shi Family matriarch spent most of her waking hours, beyond her daily routine, in this room in prayer — devout to the very core.

By the time they arrived, dozens of cushions had been arranged throughout the room, with the attending devotees already kneeling in place, awaiting the master’s arrival.

Yan Qing came to a quiet, unassuming corner with Jing Zhi’s support, and not far from her were familiar faces — Yan Qin, Shi Yutong, Yan Ling, and Yan Yan.

After a wait, the master finally arrived, and the assembled devotees pressed their palms together in reverence. Yan Qing followed suit, pressing her own hands together and silently murmuring, “Amitabha.”

As a forensic specialist, she was a thoroughgoing materialist. But she had always respected the faith of others — even if she did not believe herself, she saw no reason not to observe the basic courtesies in the presence of another’s devotion.

The master lived up to every expectation. He seated himself and began to speak with effortless fluency and depth.

Yan Qing glanced around her. She was not the only one struggling to stay awake — Yan Qin and the others had their eyes shut as well, apparently already asleep.

The master spoke on without pause for two full hours, and by the end Yan Qing’s legs had gone entirely numb — yet she had no choice but to remain kneeling where she was, not daring to move.

She thought of those meetings at city hall, where the officials sat behind their wide conference tables and spoke for hours on end, leaving her drifting into a fog, wishing for nothing more than the freedom of a dream.

“Amitabha.”

At last, those four syllables fell from the master’s lips. Yan Qing immediately felt as though a great burden had been lifted — her spine straightened of its own accord.

Once the master had withdrawn, the Shi Family wife said, “Please, everyone, come through to the main hall to rest and share a light meal.”

Jing Zhi quickly stepped forward and helped Yan Qing into her wheelchair. The assembled guests began to rise and move.

The main hall had already been laid with tea. The ladies and young misses of the various families took their seats and settled into pleasant conversation over their cups.

Yan Qing swept a glance around the room. She did not see Yan Qin.

“Yan Qing, it’s been so long.” Someone in the distance caught her eye and waved — it was Qiao Yiran.

Qiao Yiran had been of great help to Yan Qing in the Song Zixian murder case at Zhongqi Bank, and Yan Qing had kept that kindness close to her heart.

Yan Qing waved back at once.

Qiao Yiran exchanged a few words with the young miss beside her, who very graciously vacated her seat.

“Hi.” Qiao Yiran settled into the seat next to Yan Qing. “I haven’t seen you at the Military Police Directorate lately.”

Yan Qing smiled. “I’m only a forensic consultant — not a staff forensic examiner.”

“And after you graduate — do you have any plans to join the Military Police Directorate properly?”

The question gave Yan Qing pause. It was not that she was unwilling — but her limited mobility made it difficult, and beyond that, her future position would not easily lend itself to a permanent role in forensic work.

“Though it doesn’t really matter whether you’re officially posted there,” Qiao Yiran said, rubbing her aching legs. “Whenever the Military Police Directorate needs you, you’ll always be the first they call. My legs have gone completely numb from all that kneeling — that Master Jingkong talks even longer than our chief editor.”

Yan Qing found herself genuinely fond of Qiao Yiran’s character. She had a feeling that a friendship with someone like this would be a very happy thing.

“If you ever find yourself idle, please come and visit me at the Yan Mansion.” Yan Qing offered the invitation of her own accord.

“Really?” Qiao Yiran was delighted. “I was afraid you’d find my constant chatter tiresome.”

“I don’t tend to talk much myself — having someone around to tell me interesting things is something I would very much welcome.”

“Then it’s settled — whenever I have a free moment, I’ll come and find you.” Qiao Yiran took her hand, eyes curving into a smile.

“Where is Yan Qin?” The Shi Family wife looked around the room and, seeing no sign of Yan Qin, allowed a look of displeasure to cross her face. Whatever Yan Qin’s usual behavior might be, she was expected to keep up appearances on an occasion like this.

The attending maidservant was just about to go and look for her when Yan Qin came in through the door, clutching a paper bag, her face streaked with weeping.

The assembled ladies and young misses, who had been engaged in conversation, all fell quiet, their attention drawn in unison to the spectacle.

“What is this scene you’re making.” The Shi Family wife’s expression cooled. “Look at this gathering — ladies and young misses from all the best families are here. What do you think you look like, coming in this way, weeping and wailing?”

“I beg Mother to stand up for me.” Yan Qin dropped to her knees before the Shi Family wife — utterly indifferent to the occasion.

The Shi Family wife looked around at the assembled guests, feeling keenly that her dignity had been stripped away. She lowered her voice in warning. “Yan Qin, if you don’t want to be confined to the estate again, you will go back to your room this instant.”

Yan Qin lifted her tear-streaked face. “Mother, you must see justice done for me.”

Just as the Shi Family wife was about to let her temper show, Madam Ma spoke from beside her. “Shi Madam, since Second Young Madam has something to say, please let her say it. If it were not a matter of some urgency, she would hardly bring it before everyone like this.”

The Shi Family wife sighed deeply and fixed Yan Qin with a look of ill-concealed distaste. “Then say what you have to say. But before you do, wipe your face.”

Yan Qin quickly scrubbed at her tears with her sleeve.

“I didn’t want to say any of this here — truly I didn’t. But the person involved has simply gone too far.”

Yan Qin continued, “Just now, when I returned to our rooms, I found Shi Guang in perfectly good spirits, standing before the mirror and trying on a scarf.”

“And what of a scarf?” The Shi Family wife naturally defended her son. “A scarf is worth all this noise and dramatics?”

“Mother doesn’t know the whole of it. That scarf was a gift from some woman on the outside, and there he was, treating it like a treasure.”

The Shi Family wife frowned. “Your husband is a man of exceptional looks and considerable achievement — why should he not have women who admire him and send him gifts?”

“If the scarf had come from just anyone, I could close one eye and let it go. But the person who sent it has motives that are anything but innocent.”

The Shi Family wife was growing visibly impatient, convinced that Yan Qin was simply looking for trouble. Yet with so many people present, she could only endure and hear her out.

“Then tell me — who sent this scarf, and what exactly makes their motives so sinister?”

Yan Qin turned her head, her gaze cutting directly toward where Yan Qing sat. She raised her hand and pointed. “It was her!”

At Yan Qin’s gesture, Yan Qing felt the weight of eyes converging on her from every direction.