“I heard that Jing Xin went to the abbess and explained that her family urgently needed money, and asked whether she could receive her full month’s wages.” Jing Shu sighed at the memory. “The abbess didn’t agree — but she gave her an alternative. She sent Jing Xin down the mountain to solicit alms, and promised that whatever she collected could be taken back to help her family. Jing Xin made the trip, and although what she gathered was less than half a month’s wages, it was enough to ease her family’s immediate need.”

Yan Qing listened and quietly reflected. Hui An had devoted herself entirely to growing this convent, yet had overlooked the importance of tending to the hearts of those around her. Though she was gentle and honest by nature, she did not understand that the moment human relationships became entangled with money, they could shift and twist in countless ways.

The nuns here might have appeared harmonious on the surface, deferent and respectful, but beneath that facade, things had long since crumbled into something far more fractured.

Yan Qing let her gaze drift across the young nuns gathered outside the courtyard. Beneath that outward grief, might there also be hidden a flicker of relief — the thought that with Hui An gone, no one would find new ways to hold back their wages anymore? But whoever next took that position remained an open question, and with it came nothing but uncertainty.

Jing Shu had always been at Hui An’s side and had no family of her own, so she had little sense of what money meant. More than that, she regarded Hui An as a mother figure, and had even handed over her own savings for the abbess to use in expanding the convent.

When Jing Shu left, red-eyed, the nun named Jing Yuan came and sat in the chair she had just vacated.

Jing Yuan was not very old. Her face was round, and she seemed a little intimidated by Shi Ting’s gaze. Her hands kept wringing the hem of her robe, and her answers came in hesitant, stumbling fragments.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Yan Qing slid a cup of tea toward her and smiled gently. “Did you draw your eyebrows yourself?”

Jing Yuan looked up. The woman before her had features of striking beauty, a radiant and graceful presence, and a smile that seemed to carry a gentle warmth — a smile with a subtle kind of power that slowly eased Jing Yuan’s anxious heart.

“I drew them myself,” Jing Yuan said, her voice already less stilted.

“Next time you draw them, try using a soft, slightly curved line at the arch to connect the tail of the brow to the lower contour. It will look more natural that way.” Yan Qing pointed to her own brows. “Like this — see?”

“You drew yours yourself too?” Jing Yuan was surprised.

“Of course. It’s quite easy, really. Bring your brow pencil later and I’ll show you.”

“All right!” Jing Yuan brightened.

Yan Qing smiled. “But first, answer Director Shi’s questions — then you can come find me.”

“Mm.” After chatting with Yan Qing for a little while, Jing Yuan’s mood had relaxed considerably, and she was no longer nearly as anxious when she answered questions.

“My family is not well off,” Jing Yuan said with a sigh. “My mother has been ill for years and needs medicine constantly. My father refuses to take responsibility for her — he’d rather let her fend for herself — but I can’t stand by and watch her die. So I use my own money to buy her medicine.”

“I understand that Abbess Hui An regularly withheld your wages on the grounds of developing Baiyu’an?”

Jing Yuan did not deny it. “The abbess cared only about expanding the convent’s scale. It wasn’t just our wages — she found ways to raise money from every possible source. No amount was too small. Money was money, and she never turned it away.”

“Did you resent her?” Shi Ting’s gaze was deep and searching, as though it could reach into the very depths of Jing Yuan’s heart.

Jing Yuan lowered her head and sat quietly for a moment. Then she nodded. “I thought the abbess was too selfish. To achieve her own goals, she disregarded the feelings of everyone else. She never stopped to think about what would happen to those of us from poor families if we had no money. All she could think about was whether the hall pillars were hollow or solid.”

“Did you ever think that once she was gone, your wages would return to normal?”

Jing Yuan waved her hands quickly. “Even though I did want my full wages back, I never once wished for the abbess to die.”

Then she seemed to realize what that might imply, and added anxiously: “You don’t think I killed the abbess, do you? I didn’t — I didn’t kill anyone.”

Yan Qing gently pressed her hand to Jing Yuan’s shoulder. “Don’t alarm yourself. This is a routine inquiry. We are not saying you killed Abbess Jing An.”

Jing Yuan let out a breath of relief, but still seemed afraid Shi Ting wouldn’t believe her, and continued to repeat her defense: “I truly did not kill anyone. Even though the abbess withheld our wages, she was always kind to us in other ways. However much I resented her, I would never have killed her. Besides, that waterfall is so high and sheer — I don’t have the ability to scale a cliff face the way you do, sir. There’s no way I could have climbed it.”

“That’s all for now. You may go.” Shi Ting was afraid that if the questioning continued, the young nun might actually burst into tears.

As Jing Yuan rose to leave, she stole a somewhat shy glance at Yan Qing. Yan Qing immediately read her thoughts and smiled. “Come find me at where we’re staying. I’ll show you.”

Jing Yuan pressed her palms together in a gesture of respect and called out “Amitabha” with great feeling — then went on her way in noticeably higher spirits.

“How did you know she was interested in drawing her eyebrows?” Shi Ting asked with genuine curiosity.

“The skin near the root of her brows had marks from repeated applications of brow pencil,” Yan Qing said. “She’s clearly only just started learning. And though she wears a nun’s robe, it’s been washed to a spotless clean, and the fabric at the waist has been subtly taken in — she clearly cares a great deal about her appearance when she’s not in habit. Since most of the nuns here wouldn’t wear makeup or know how to teach her, she’s been figuring out how to draw her eyebrows entirely on her own. Of course she’d be interested once I brought it up.”

Shi Ting smiled. “My Qing Qing is getting more and more perceptive.”

“Shall we call Jing Xin in next?”

“No need. She’s already said what she had to say. Call in the others.”

By the time every person had been questioned, the afternoon had arrived. With Hui An dead in such mysterious circumstances, Hui Qing — another senior nun of the same generational name — temporarily took charge of the convent’s affairs.

Hui Qing was somewhat older and normally kept quiet. Had Hui An not died so suddenly, she would never have come forward to manage things.

“Hui Qing wasn’t at Baiyu’an at all last night.” Shi Ting moved around Hui An’s room, tapping here and examining there, hoping to find a clue. “She was at Chunyin Convent on the neighboring peak — many people can vouch for that. And last night with the rain, taking the mountain paths in such weather would be no different from walking to your death.”

“We’ve now questioned all of the nuns here. What have you found?”

“Their accounts are virtually airtight. In a situation like this, there are only two possibilities: either they’re all telling the truth, or they’ve coordinated their stories.”

“I don’t think it’s coordinated. If they’d conspired with each other, it would be impossible for every single one of them to seem so natural. Someone would inevitably show a crack under the nerves.”

“So they’re most likely all telling the truth.”

“Then could the killer actually be someone outside this group?” A large question mark formed in Yan Qing’s mind.

This case clearly had the hallmarks of someone known to the victim. It had been raining that night, the mountain paths were impassable, and no one could have come up from outside. Apart from the nuns, there were also a few devotees who had been stranded by the rain — Shi Ting had questioned them all. They were ordinary visitors, with neither the time nor the motive to commit the crime.

If the killer truly was not among these people, could they have been moving freely through the convent without anyone noticing?

Shi Ting found nothing useful in the room, and said, “Let’s look at the other rooms.”

Hui Xiu’s former room had been left untouched. Since Hui Xiu’s death had been unclear in its circumstances, no one had dared to occupy the room, and it had stood empty ever since.

The room had been kept clean, at least — no layer of dust had settled.

Unlike Hui An’s quarters, Hui Xiu had clearly been someone who appreciated the finer things. The furnishings inside were elegant and refined.

“There’s even a guqin here. It seems Master Hui Xiu had a taste for the cultivated arts.” Yan Qing paused beside a guqin. It had not been wiped down, and a thick layer of dust lay across its surface.

“Qing Qing, come here.” Shi Ting seemed to have noticed something, and called her over.

Yan Qing shifted her attention away from the guqin and walked quickly to his side.

Shi Ting pointed to a small sachet hanging on the wall. “I saw one just like this in Hui An’s room.”

He put on a glove, took the sachet down, held it to his nose, then handed it to Yan Qing. “What does this smell like to you?”

Yan Qing inhaled carefully. “Mugwort mixed with a blend of herbal medicines. The herbs have a calming and soothing effect, and the mugwort repels insects — this would have been used in summer.” She studied the sachet for a moment. “The medicinal scent has mostly faded, and the colors have badly aged. It’s been around for quite a few years. I wonder why Hui Xiu kept it all this time — was it some kind of keepsake?”

“And look at these stitches.” Yan Qing’s brow furrowed slightly. “See how they’re uneven and sparse, and the embroidered pattern looks a little childlike. Whoever made this sachet must have been quite young.”

Shi Ting said, “This one has a little duckling embroidered on it. The one from Hui An’s room had a little rabbit. As you say — the maker was indeed very young.”

“If you want to know who made it, we should ask Jing Shu. She managed all of Hui An’s daily affairs, and she’s been with Hui An since she was very small.”

Jing Shu was brought over shortly after. She wore a grey monk’s robe and sandals, with her calves wrapped in several loops of binding cloth.

Jing Shu was fair and delicate in appearance — even the wide, loose robe could not quite conceal her gentle quality.

“Honored guests.” Jing Shu pressed her palms together. The rims of her downcast eyes were slightly swollen, clearly from recent crying.

“Jing Shu, do you know where this sachet came from?” Yan Qing held it up.

Jing Shu had only to glance at it before she said, “That sachet? I’ve seen one just like it at the abbess’s as well.”

“Who gave it to her?”

—