Bai Jin laughed from the side as well. “I conducted an examination of the wall surface and the ground beneath the window. Miss Qin, care to guess what I found?”

Qin Peipei frowned. “How would I know?”

“What I found was nothing at all.” Tongue-in-cheek as the phrase was, it was not difficult to understand given the circumstances.

“You say someone climbed in through the window to attack you and then jumped out to escape. But outside the window there are no fresh footprints whatsoever, and no marks on the wall from climbing. Did your attacker sprout wings and fly away?” Bai Jin narrowed his eyes. “Miss Qin, there is no point in arguing further. Everything was your own doing from start to finish.”

“Ha.” Qin Peipei suddenly let out a cold laugh. The warmth drained from her face, replaced by something icy. “To think it still came to nothing in the end. Director Shi, I’ll give you that.”

As she spoke, a flash of resolve crossed her eyes. But Shi Ting was faster—in the span of a single heartbeat, he was already at her side. Long fingers clamped around her jaw, and the motion she had been about to make—to bite down on poison—was forced to stop.

Qin Peipei glared at Shi Ting with bloodshot eyes, seething. Shi Ting simply pulled a decorative handkerchief from a nearby guest’s pocket and stuffed it into her mouth, then snapped a pair of cold metal handcuffs around her wrists.

The last time, at Taishan, a suspect had died this way by swallowing poison. He would not allow the same thing to happen again.

“Miss Qin, there is no need to be in such a hurry to die—don’t you want to see your accomplice?” Bai Jin smiled from the side. “If you’re going to die, you might as well keep each other company.”

With her mouth stopped up, Qin Peipei could only glare at Bai Jin with her eyes.

Huimura, watching her from the side, shook his head repeatedly. He had been captivated by Qin Peipei at first sight—her tall figure and striking looks had drawn him in completely. Now he watched her slumped to the floor, a cloth stuffed in her mouth, handcuffs on her wrists, in utter dishevelment. Then he thought of the painstaking, unscrupulous schemes she had laid to destroy him. A phrase rose unbidden in his mind: a beautiful but venomous woman.

“Miss Qin, would you believe it—your accomplice happens to be here tonight as well.”

The moment Bai Jin’s words fell, a wave of murmuring spread through the room. People began glancing around, while also quietly bracing themselves.

“The killer is here at the scene?” Madam Shi gave a start of fright. Beside her, Shi Yuan quickly reached out to steady her arm.

“Mother, the killer was after Huimura—not us.” Shi Yuan murmured soothingly, though she too felt a trace of fear.

“No need for alarm, everyone.” Bai Jin said. “The culprit is already in our hands.”

As he spoke, officers escorted someone in from outside. As everyone turned to look, a figure quietly drew close to where Shi Yuan and Madam Shi were standing.

“Ah!” Shi Yuan suddenly cried out and instinctively lurched into Madam Shi.

Madam Shi was jostled back two steps by her and looked with some surprise at the maid behind Shi Yuan. It was that maid who had bumped into Shi Yuan.

Huantong—a maid who had been standing behind Shi Yuan all along—had also turned to look when she heard that someone was being brought in. In that precise instant, a strike came from behind. She instinctively raised her arm to block it, and so began to fight with her assailant.

“Huantong, you know martial arts?” Shi Yuan stared at Huantong trading blows with Bai Jin, completely dumbfounded.

By now Huantong was at a clear disadvantage. Several more officers closed in around her, firearms leveled squarely at her as she continued to struggle.

Bai Jin moved with lightning speed, striking her sharply on the shoulder. Huantong stumbled back two steps and was brought to a halt when a gun barrel was pressed against her from behind.

Qin Peipei was startled by this sudden turn of events. By the time she came to her senses, she frantically shook her head—but no one paid her any attention.

With a gun pressed to her, Huantong had no ability left to resist. Yet her eyes remained cold and unbowed.

“Huantong, you…” Shi Yuan pointed at her, disbelief written across her face. “What is this?”

“Huantong is the killer who murdered the three dance girls.” Shi Ting stepped forward and drew a hairpin from her bun. Huantong’s hair fell loose and tumbled down around her, disheveled.

He handed the hairpin to an officer behind him. “Send this to Gu Zhen and E’Yuan for analysis.”

“Yes, sir.” The officer took the hairpin and withdrew.

Shi Yuan’s eyes went wide. “How is this possible? She’s from Shan Cheng—not from Bei Di. How could she be the killer?”

Shan Cheng—that was territory under the control of the southwest warlord faction. In terms of importance to the southwest, Shan Cheng was the equivalent of Shun Cheng in the north.

The Marshal heard those two words and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Huantong may be from Shan Cheng, but she arrived in Bei Di several days ago. Elder Sister knows this, does she not?”

Shi Yuan gave a nod. “My husband said he was sending her to Shun Cheng on some business. I had just come home at the time, and she came along to attend to me.”

Though Shi Yuan had quarreled bitterly with her husband, Liao Wenfa, and left in anger, the fact that he had specifically sent someone to look after her had genuinely touched her. As Madam Shi had said—even though she had left in a fit of temper, the truth was she could not truly bring herself to leave her husband’s household.

“After arriving in Shun Cheng, Huantong first made contact with Qin Peipei. Once their plan was agreed upon, she stole four large doll figures and then murdered three people in succession.” Shi Ting looked toward Huantong, whose face was half-hidden behind loose strands of hair. “We found the fourth doll that had not yet been used at her hiding place. At the same time, we also found some of her correspondence there. Although the letters themselves contained nothing overtly incriminating, they still led us to the evidence.”

An officer produced two sheets of paper covered in numbers and held them up for all to see.

“During the forensic examination of the bodies, the examiners noticed something unusual about the numbers written on the victims’ backs—specifically the numeral 7. The killer had a habit of writing 7 as a horizontal stroke and then a vertical stroke.”

“So that’s how it is.”

“Right—most people wouldn’t write a 7 like that.”

The people around them studied the numbers and commented.

“Now look at the letters found at Huantong’s lodging. Is the 7 there not identical to the one on the bodies?”

Some of the curious onlookers placed the two examples side by side for comparison and nodded with certainty: “Completely identical.”

Shi Ting gave an affirmative sound. “Not only that—the numbers the killer wrote on the victims’ backs were inscribed with a hairpin. As you all just saw, the hairpin in Huantong’s hair was precisely that—a hairpin. If she truly used that pin to write, it will necessarily still carry traces of blood, and the marks left by the pin would match the wounds on the victims’ backs.”

Huantong kept her head down throughout and offered no defense, as though she had become completely motionless.

Shi Ting continued: “Huantong had been monitoring Mr. Huimura and knew that he took medicine at a fixed time every day. Before Mr. Huimura arrived to attend the ball, she found an opportunity to secretly swap out his medicine bottle. Mr. Huimura’s medication is taken in set quantities each day. By calculating when the new bottle would be opened, one could determine how many pills should remain—and I believe the current count would not match. I trust Mr. Huimura will confirm this.”

Huimura listened and nodded repeatedly.

“Huantong had purchased anti-inflammatory drugs from an apothecary. The shop assistant remembers this clearly—a search of the accounts would confirm it. Huantong then concentrated and refined the anti-inflammatory compounds, fashioning them into pills identical in appearance to Mr. Huimura’s regular medication. All that was needed then was for him to drink rather heavily at the ball that evening, then take the pills—and Mr. Huimura would have died on the spot. Working in coordination, Huantong and Qin Peipei could not only have killed Mr. Huimura without leaving any visible trace—they could have cleared themselves entirely and walked away from the whole affair unscathed.” He turned to look at the still-silent Huantong. “Of course, they also had associates here in Shun Cheng—or perhaps more accurately, they were part of an intelligence network.”

How many of these people there were remained unknown. It would take time to work up the chain and find them one by one.

“It does seem this Huantong killed those women. She and Qin Peipei were working together.” Madam Shi thought of how Huantong had been moving in and out of her courtyard all these days, and felt a chill run through her. She had been sharing space with a murderer all this time without knowing it.

If Madam Shi was frightened, Shi Yuan was trembling outright—though not so much out of fear that Huantong was a killer. What truly frightened her was the thought of this matter implicating her and the Liao Family, far away in Shan Cheng.

“Seventh Brother, you say Huantong is the killer—but what was her motive?” Shi Yuan pointed at Huantong. “She’s a Shan Cheng person, completely unfamiliar with Shun Cheng. How could she have known Qin Peipei? And how exactly did she kill those three dance girls? What was her purpose?”

“A fair question, Elder Sister.” Shi Ting raised an eyebrow slightly. “As for her purpose, I believe taking her back for a thorough interrogation will tell us all we need to know.”

“A woman like you has no business interfering here!” The Marshal snapped from the side. “This is not something you should concern yourself with.”

“Then, then very well—do take your time with the questioning.” Shi Yuan’s lips twitched, and she did not dare defy the Marshal.

“First Young Mistress, save me.” Unexpectedly, the moment Huantong heard Shi Yuan’s voice, she suddenly raised her head. Her bloodshot eyes, wild and frantic, fixed upon Shi Yuan.

Shi Yuan recoiled in fright and quickly retreated to Madam Shi’s side, clutching her arm. “You committed murder—how could I possibly save you? I trusted you all this time and kept you by my side to serve me, and this is how you repay that trust—committing these terrible crimes.”

Shi Yuan was quick to put as much distance between herself and Huantong as possible, afraid that anyone might think Huantong had been acting on her orders—a charge she would never be able to refute.

Huantong listened to her words. Something in her eyes went cold. The corners of her mouth curved into a chilling, eerie smile. “You will save me.”

“Don’t talk nonsense—why would I save you? I won’t. You’re a murderer.” Shi Yuan gripped Madam Shi’s arm tightly, terrified that Huantong might suddenly lunge at her. Those eyes were too frightening to look at.

“You will. Ha ha.” Huantong let out a laugh that made the skin crawl. “You will.”

Madam Shi said urgently: “Shi Ting, why haven’t you had her taken away yet? Go and question her at the division. If this madwoman hurts someone, what then?”

Madam Shi shielded Shi Yuan. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid.”

Shi Ting glanced at the Marshal, who gave a nod as well. “Take them back to the military police division. By whatever means necessary, both of them must be made to confess.”

Shi Ting had Huantong and Qin Peipei escorted out. The guests who remained at the ball looked at one another in bewilderment, unsure whether to leave or to stay.