Teng Yu’yi’s heart leaped into her throat. If not for the requirement to remain still, she would have already rushed to Jue Sheng’s side to investigate.

Lin Chengyou stared intently at Jue Sheng. “Who is he talking about?”

Jue Sheng was extremely anxious. Tian Yunde had lost both hands and gesturing with his severed wrists left too much room for interpretation.

He hurriedly pointed to a name: “Master Tian, is this the person you mean?”

Tian Yunde shook his head desperately, trembling as he thrust his severed wrists forward. At that moment, Madam Qi’s ghost suddenly began to flutter violently like a sheet of paper, disregarding the red rope still tied around her waist as she shrieked and attempted to leap out of the array.

Lin Chengyou was caught off guard by Madam Qi’s sudden outburst. His right hand steadied the red rope while his other hand decisively launched a talisman. But before he could subdue her, with a “puff” sound, all seven oil lamps extinguished simultaneously.

The small Buddha hall plunged into darkness. Lin Chengyou knew something was wrong and used a flying talisman to light the candle on the altar behind him. The flame flickered, and brightness returned to their view.

The rope lay quietly crumpled on the ground—the ghosts of the Tian couple had long since fled.

Lin Chengyou snapped the red rope from his finger and stepped out of the array. “Who was Tian Yunde trying to indicate just now?”

Jue Sheng drew a circle on the register: “The severed wrists seemed to point to this area.”

Lin Chengyou looked closely. Six names were within the circle: Wo Ji, E Ji, Ge Jin, He Mingsheng, Bao Zhu, and Juan’er Li.

They were just one step away from discovering the culprit. Lin Chengyou coldly snorted, “No matter. We can simply try again.”

As he turned to restart the array, the group of Daoists hurried over to stop him: “Ah! This won’t do! This is evil sorcery—Young Master, be careful not to damage your cultivation!”

Lin Chengyou crouched down to light the oil lamps: “There are still many unclear matters. Since we now know the killer has ties to the Tian couple, we might as well clarify everything at once.”

Jian Tian shook his head: “We practice the righteous path and should not dabble in evil arts. Using it once for the investigation is one thing, but there’s absolutely no justification for activating the array again.”

When Lin Chengyou heard the word “dabble,” he suddenly shuddered. What had come over him? Despite knowing the grave consequences, he had insisted on reactivating the array. Just now his mind had been consumed with extracting the killer’s name, refusing to be deterred by others. Such obsession—wasn’t this precisely what it meant to be corrupted by evil without realizing it? No wonder his master said that “all arts that defy heaven and reason harbor hidden dangers.” Despite being sufficiently cautious, he had still nearly fallen prey to it.

Lin Chengyou collected himself, blew out the candle in his hand, and stood up, giving a small laugh: “The elder’s reminder is correct. I was being foolish just now.”

Only then did Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi relax. Teng Yu’yi didn’t understand why they couldn’t activate the array again, but seeing how tense the Daoists were, she figured it must relate to some taboo of their arts. She looked down at the names on the register and pondered aloud: “Twelve strokes—only one person here has a surname with twelve strokes.”

Yi Zhi excitedly said: “Let me see!”

Then his expression suddenly went blank: “Eh. Madam E?”

Jue Sheng also found it hard to believe: “How could it be her?”

Jian Xi sighed: “I really couldn’t tell. This E Ji has always been smooth and likable, yet she’s so vicious behind the scenes. Looking at her daily conduct, one truly couldn’t tell she possessed such extraordinary skills.”

Jian Le bumped his shoulder: “Xi Xi, that’s not right. The more profound one’s inner power, the better one knows how to conceal it. I just wonder how she came to have a grudge with the Tian couple, and why she wanted to harm the Yao Huang sisters?”

“Don’t forget that E Ji is a veteran private courtesan in Pingkang Ward. She was already living here when the Silk Guild still existed.” Jian Xian’s eyes grew brighter as he spoke. “This explains everything! E Ji not only knew the Tian couple but was also the false mother at Caifeng House. Both pairs of victims had connections to her!”

Teng Yu’yi coughed twice: “But as far as I know, performers often use stage names, and false mothers probably do too.”

Lin Chengyou was examining the broken red rope when he heard this and pondered. Teng Yu’yi knew quite a lot. In all his years, apart from investigating cases and capturing demons, he had barely set foot in Pingkang Ward. Yet here she was, not only lavishly patronizing Juan’er Li and Bao Zhu but seemingly quite knowledgeable about the intricacies of the entertainment world.

But she was right—E Ji might not have the surname E. Her true name would only be revealed by checking her contract papers.

He picked up the scattered silver nails. Though the array had failed midway, they had still gained considerable information.

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi asked: “Senior Brother, are you returning to the front building?”

“I’m going to investigate what misdeeds the Tian couple committed while alive. You two gather everything from the ground, and don’t you dare lose my bamboo basket.”

Though the two yamen runners hadn’t turned around earlier, they were still quite frightened. Lin Chengyou walked up to them and took out some calming pills from his robes for them to take, saying with a smile: “This place no longer needs watching. Go get some good rest.”

The runners, their souls barely settled, nodded and left.

Teng Yu’yi’s mind was entirely on “sword practice.” The array setup had taken most of an hour—enough time for her to learn a move or two if it had been spent on sword practice. As soon as Lin Chengyou left, she drew her sword from its scabbard: “Venerable ones, while we wait for the food and wine to arrive, shall we practice a few moves?”

The Daoists had wanted to rest, but seeing Teng Yu’yi’s bright-eyed enthusiasm, they knew rest was impossible. They pursed their lips in displeasure and sluggishly walked to the table.

Teng Yu’yi shuddered—one old Daoist pursing his lips was bearable, but five old Daoists pursing their lips simultaneously could truly be called a spectacle.

Fortunately, she could turn away under the pretense of sword practice, sparing herself from being forced to witness such a sight.

Meanwhile, as Lin Chengyou reached the door, a yamen runner approached: “Young Master, there’s a performer here to see you.”

“Who?”

“A lady called Bao Zhu.”

Her? Lin Chengyou nodded: “Bring her in.”

Soon Bao Zhu was led into the Buddha hall by the runner. She seemed to have made an effort with her appearance tonight, with light rouge on her cheeks and lips more tender than during the day. She kept her eyes on the hem of her skirt, each step full of allure, but suddenly discovering the room full of people, she stopped in her tracks, growing even more uncomfortable upon spotting Teng Yu’yi.

She hurriedly gathered her skirts in a curtsy: “Greetings, Young Master.”

Teng Yu’yi gave Bao Zhu a curious glance—surely she hadn’t thought Lin Chengyou would be alone?

“What do you wish to report?”

Bao Zhu bit her lip and then released it, the color instantly becoming rich and full.

Lin Chengyou frowned impatiently: “Do you have something to say or not?”

Bao Zhu shrank back but still didn’t speak.

“Seems like there’s nothing then.” Lin Chengyou nodded with a smile, then darkened his expression and said, “Someone come to take this performer to the Court of Judicature. Disturbing an official’s investigation without cause warrants twenty strokes by law. Give her twenty strikes first, and if she still won’t behave, we’ll determine additional punishment.”

Bao Zhu blanched in terror, dropping to her knees: “This servant, this servant truly has important matters to report, I just hadn’t figured out how to say it. I didn’t mean to trifle with the Young Master. Please show mercy.”

She kept kowtowing as she spoke, clearly terrified. The five Daoists, hearing the “thump thump thump” of her head hitting the ground, felt quite sympathetic. This little beauty had specially dressed up to come here, likely harboring other intentions. But so what? With such beauty, having some ulterior motives was harmless. That brat Lin Chengyou might have a handsome face, but he completely failed to understand how to cherish tender beauty.

Lin Chengyou looked down at Bao Zhu: “You’d better be sensible. If you dare to ramble…”

“This servant wouldn’t dare speak nonsense.” Bao Zhu, dizzy and weak, rested her forehead on the ground. Whatever hopes she had harbored were now thoroughly crushed by fear. “This afternoon when Young Master questioned us, after returning to my room I recalled something very strange. Young Master asked about the small Buddha hall and that Wandering Immortal—actually, Juan’er Li met the Wandering Immortal once last month. I don’t know if Juan’er Li mentioned this to Young Master.”

Lin Chengyou’s eyes rippled. Last month? The Wandering Immortal hadn’t shown his face for half a year, yet he had returned to Chang’an in between.

“Where did she see the Wandering Immortal?”

Bao Zhu didn’t dare raise her head as she recounted everything.

It was the eighth day of the month. E Ji had specially permitted Bao Zhu and Juan’er Li to offer incense at Bodhi Temple. Unfortunately, Bao Zhu wasn’t feeling well, so Juan’er Li had to go with the other girls. Upon returning, she had quietly told Bao Zhu: “The master sends people to Luoyang every day to capture the Wandering Immortal, yet who knew that Daoist was hiding right here in Chang’an.”

Bao Zhu hurriedly asked what happened.

Juan’er Li explained: “After the sisters finished burning incense at the temple, we stopped at a wine shop to drink Green Ant Wine. I went to the shop across the street to buy some dried peaches for you. When I came out, I saw a Daoist hurrying past. I thought, isn’t that the Wandering Immortal?”

Bao Zhu was startled upon hearing this. She had seen the Wandering Immortal when he came to Caifeng House—he had a red face with a bushy beard and a long sword at his waist, looking unlike ordinary Daoists and more like a wandering knight. His appearance was so unusual that it was no wonder Juan’er Li recognized him at a glance.

“Isn’t he a fraud? What was he doing?”

Juan’er Li said: “He seemed to be tracking someone, but unfortunately the street was packed with people, and he disappeared in a flash.”

Bao Zhu quickly said: “Doesn’t the master hate this Daoist? We should tell the master quickly!”

Juan’er Li hesitated and said: “This Daoist doesn’t look like a bad person. Perhaps he’s just wandering around and didn’t intentionally defraud anyone. If he’s caught by the master, he’ll inevitably face imprisonment. Maybe we should just let it be.”

As the two were discussing this, Qing Zhi happily passed by outside. Many performers had gone out to wander that day, Qing Zhi included, and she was hugging a large package of food—she had acquired quite a lot. She seemed to have heard Bao Zhu and Juan’er Li’s conversation but didn’t come in to ask about it.

Just after Qing Zhi left, E Ji came in. Juan’er Li whispered to Bao Zhu: “I wonder if they heard what we were saying.”

Bao Zhu said: “If Sister E had heard, she would certainly question us directly. But Qing Zhi is different. We weren’t speaking quietly just now, and I suspect she heard a few sentences. That girl has such a loose tongue, she’ll surely try to curry favor with the master.”

Several days passed, but there was no reaction from He Mingsheng. Bao Zhu and Juan’er Li guessed that either Qing Zhi hadn’t paid attention to what they were saying that day, or she hadn’t had the chance to tell the master yet.

After finishing her account, Bao Zhu timidly raised her head to look at Lin Chengyou.

Lin Chengyou frowned in thought. This clue was crucial—why had Juan’er Li not mentioned it at all?

Bao Zhu seemed to guess what Lin Chengyou was thinking and said fearfully: “To be honest with Young Master, ever since Juan’er Li was kidnapped by that male demon, her spirits have been quite low. She used to be such a talkative person, but lately, she’s always in a daze. Sometimes when I chat with her, she often can’t even remember things about us. I suspect she didn’t intentionally conceal this but truly forgot. I beg Young Master not to blame her, considering her unrecovered condition.”

Hearing this, Teng Yu’yi was startled. No wonder Juan’er Li had been so absent-minded lately—she had been traumatized by the Golden-Robed Young Master. This wasn’t surprising; who wouldn’t be frightened of encountering such a powerful demon? Someone more timid might have gone mad on the spot.

Yi Zhi, being tender-hearted, couldn’t help interjecting: “Lady, don’t worry. Juan’er Li first had her soul frightened and then entered an illusion realm. She originally needed quiet rest and recuperation, but unfortunately, with recent frequent incidents, this is called failing to properly recover. We’ll send her some more talismanic soup for calming the spirit and nourishing qi. After some more days of rest, she’ll be fine.”

Bao Zhu was immensely grateful: “Thank you, young Daoist.”

Lin Chengyou looked at Bao Zhu: “Did anyone mention this incident in front of you after that day?”

“No.” Bao Zhu shook her head. “If Young Master hadn’t asked about the Wandering Immortal this afternoon, I might not have remembered. Thinking it might be related to capturing the killer, but worried that Juan’er Li had forgotten, I had to gather my courage to come to report it.”

Lin Chengyou pondered for a moment, then asked: “Besides Juan’er Li, has anyone else seen the Wandering Immortal in Chang’an?”

“No.” Bao Zhu added, “At least neither of us has heard of anyone else seeing him.”

After Bao Zhu left, Lin Chengyou went to the front building.

Teng Yu’yi had learned several sword moves but gradually felt her outer robe becoming sticky and heavy with sweat. She needed to return to her room to change clothes, so she excused herself from the five Daoists, planning to return to Yi Cui Pavilion with Butler Cheng and Huo Qiu.

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi rushed after her: “Young Master Wang, let us accompany you.”

Teng Yu’yi knew they were worried about the corpse demon breaking in. As she walked, she said with a smile: “I have some snacks in my room, perfect to share with you.”

The two nodded happily, and Jue Sheng counted on his fingers: “Yi Zhi, hasn’t Young Master Wang learned twelve moves in total?”

“Thirteen moves,” Yi Zhi exhaled contentedly. “Only twenty-three moves left before mastering the complete set.”

Teng Yu’yi glanced at them with a smile, surprised they were so attentive to her martial arts progress. At her current pace, she had hopes of completing the training before nightfall tomorrow, provided nothing went wrong—otherwise all her suffering would be for nothing.

They soon reached Yi Cui Pavilion. All was quiet, with two yamen runners patrolling the corridors while the performers and false mothers remained confined to their rooms.

Butler Cheng waited in the adjacent room while Teng Yu’yi went straight to her room to change. After a quick wash, she gathered several packages of vegetarian snacks that Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi enjoyed, and thinking of the five Daoists still in the small Buddha hall, also added some meat pastries and fish pickles to the tray.

After preparing everything, she looked around and noticed a plate of preserved cherries still on the table. Teng Yu’yi paused—these had been set out when Bao Zhu and Juan’er Li visited that day and should have been cleared away long ago, but somehow she had forgotten.

She walked across the room and opened the door, but something felt off. As Butler Cheng and the others came over hearing the movement, Teng Yu’yi absent-mindedly told Huo Qiu: “Take these snacks to the small Buddha hall.”

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi rushed into the room first: “Don’t trouble Brother Huo, we’ll do it!”

Huo Qiu, being straightforward, was about to speak with a smile when he accidentally caught sight of Teng Yu’yi’s expression and exclaimed: “Young Master, what’s wrong?”

Teng Yu’yi halted her steps and turned toward the other end of the corridor: “I need to go to the front building.”

Butler Cheng and the others exchanged glances and hurriedly followed.

As soon as Teng Yu’yi reached the front building, she looked around: “Where’s Lin Chengyou?”

The yamen runners, not knowing Teng Yu’yi’s identity, just found this young gentleman somewhat strange.

“Assessor Lin is on the second floor. Does this young master have business with him?”

“My surname is Wang. Please relay a message that Wang has urgent matters to discuss with him.”

The yamen runners hesitated. After the Young Master and Director Yan brought back several case files from the Court of Judicature, they instructed the runners to wait downstairs for the Legal Secretary of Wannian County while they remained upstairs examining documents. The runners had kindly bought hot buns and soup to take up, only to be turned away.

“Assessor Lin may not agree to see you,” one runner said. “Wait here while I go up and ask.”

***

Lin Chengyou stood leaning against the moon-shaped window, his eyes fixed on the portrait in his hand. Though He Mingsheng came from a merchant background, his artistic skill wasn’t bad. The portrait of the Wandering Immortal matched Bao Zhu’s description almost perfectly—tall and robust, with thick eyebrows and a bushy beard, wearing a black robe and straw sandals, giving off quite a chivalrous air at first glance.

He Mingsheng had drawn four portraits in total. One was now in the hands of the Imperial Guards and Mounted Patrol, while two others had been sent to different city gates. Within an hour, a dragnet would be spread inside and outside the city. As soon as this Daoist showed his face, he would be immediately apprehended.

“You never know until you check,” Director Yan gave a bitter smile at his desk under the lamp. “It turns out three of the six people have surnames with ‘twelve strokes’—Juan’er Li’s real name is Qiong Qin Wa, E Ji’s original surname is Tan, and Ge Jin’s real surname is Dong.”

Lin Chengyou continued: “And then there’s Bao Zhu, who was an orphan when found and had no surname before being bought.”

Director Yan carefully added Bao Zhu’s name and was about to cross off He Mingsheng’s: “It seems this matter has nothing to do with Master He.”

But Lin Chengyou said: “Wait.”

Director Yan was startled: “What is it? Is He Mingsheng also using a false name?”

Lin Chengyou frowned: “I had people investigate his background in Luoyang earlier. His grandfather was a wealthy merchant there—his identity and background check out. But he is still the master of this house. Whether setting up arrays in the small Buddha hall long-term or concealing evidence after murders, he would find it much more convenient than others here.”

Director Yan pointed at Ge Jin’s name: “After her disfigurement, Ge Jin has been recuperating in her room. Logically, she’d have even less opportunity to kill.”

Lin Chengyou pondered: “But she has a motive.”

“Motive?” Director Yan exclaimed. “She doesn’t even know it was Qing Zhi and Yao Huang who harmed her, how could she—”

He suddenly startled internally. This was only Ge Jin’s word. Perhaps she had known all along who harmed her but deliberately put on that show in public that night. This wasn’t impossible—after all, no one in Caifeng House hated the Yao Huang sisters more than she did.

Director Yan wavered uncertainly: “Then… it seems only Juan’er Li and Bao Zhu are least suspicious.”

But Lin Chengyou said: “Don’t you think Juan’er Li’s stupor seems a bit excessive?”

“You suspect she’s faking?” Director Yan’s gaze passed over the Wandering Immortal’s portrait. “That’s true. Bao Zhu’s words tonight also prove Juan’er Li has been concealing important clues. But she’s a foreigner—how could she be connected to the Peach Branch Embroidery Shop in Yuezhou?”

Lin Chengyou paced back and forth in thought, then walked to the low couch and lay down looking at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept for two nights and was truly exhausted: “Let’s stop thinking for now. Secretary Hong hasn’t arrived yet anyway, I’ll rest my eyes for a moment.”

Just as he closed his eyes, someone knocked at the door.

Lin Chengyou didn’t open his eyes: “What is it?”

“Someone seeks an audience with Assessor Lin, saying they have urgent matters to report.”

Lin Chengyou thought of Bao Zhu and felt annoyed. Urgent matters? How many urgent matters could there be?

“Don’t see her. Tell her to leave.”

“This person says their surname is Wang, and they seem quite anxious.”

Lin Chengyou got up from the couch: “Bring her up.”

The yamen runner went to carry out the order, returning shortly: “Assessor Lin, the person is here.”

Lin Chengyou opened the door and went out to find Teng Yu’yi waiting in the corridor. She wore a freshly changed outer robe and even properly wore a headband, with tiny crystal beads of sweat on her forehead, yet giving off a strangely clean fragrance.

He couldn’t identify the scent and gave her a sideways glance: “What do you want?”

Teng Yu’yi decided to be brief: “I think something’s off about Bao Zhu.”

“Oh? What seems off?”

“The day Qing Zhi died, I had her and Juan’er Li come to my room to sing. Curious about Qing Zhi’s death, I asked them about her. There was a plate of preserved cherries in my room, and Bao Zhu was speaking normally until she suddenly saw them and her expression changed. I asked what was wrong, and she said the cherries reminded her of something. When I asked what, she said she had once caught Qing Zhi hiding jewelry in preserved cherries.

“This seemed reasonable enough, so I didn’t suspect anything. After Bao Zhu left, I went with Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi to find the five Daoists in the small Buddha hall. We caught up with you returning, and the five Daoists asked you about the case. I thought Bao Zhu’s words were an important clue, so I deliberately mentioned it in front of you. Young Master seemed not at all surprised, suggesting you already knew about this. May I ask when did Bao Zhu tell you about this matter?”

Lin Chengyou vaguely guessed what Teng Yu’yi was questioning. That day, as soon as he discovered something off about Qing Zhi’s corpse, he and Director Yan questioned everyone in the house one by one. It was then that he heard about the preserved cherries from Bao Zhu.

He said: “She told me that morning when Qing Zhi’s body was discovered.”

Teng Yu’yi said: “That’s exactly what I find strange. If she had already told you about this in the morning, why did she react so strongly upon seeing the preserved cherries in the afternoon?”

Interesting. Lin Chengyou pondered: “That morning she not only told me but described it in great detail. Logically, seeing another plate of preserved cherries shouldn’t cause such alarm, unless…”

“Unless something else caused her distress,” Teng Yu’yi understood. “She deliberately used the preserved cherries and Qing Zhi as a cover to hide the true reason for her reaction.”

Lin Chengyou grew interested: “So what was Bao Zhu doing in your room at the time? Was anyone else present?”

“Besides me, just the two young Daoists. When the preserved cherries were brought out, we had almost finished talking. I asked Juan’er Li and Bao Zhu to play ‘The Lotus-Picking Song’ for me, but Juan’er Li had barely started when Bao Zhu reacted as if she’d seen a ghost. Only after my repeated questioning did she come up with that story. Honestly, the story was flawless—if I hadn’t happened to know she had already detailed Qing Zhi’s situation before, I would never have grown suspicious.”

‘The Lotus-Picking Song’… Lin Chengyou pondered. Teng Yu’yi had requested this piece, and Bao Zhu had already started playing—her distress probably wasn’t about this.

“What about outside the corridor?” he asked. “Did anyone happen to pass by or speak loudly?”

Teng Yu’yi shook her head: “I can’t remember clearly. The two young Daoists were there too—should I go back and ask them?”

Then she fell silent.

Lin Chengyou waited a while, and seeing Teng Yu’yi had nothing more to say, asked: “That’s all?”

Teng Yu’yi smiled: “That’s all.”

But she showed no intention of leaving. Lin Chengyou laughed internally—he knew Teng Yu’yi wouldn’t come without an ulterior motive.

He pretended ignorance and turned to push the door: “Alright, I understand. Young Master Wang may leave now.”

His hand had barely touched the door frame when he heard Teng Yu’yi say cheerfully: “Young Master, please wait.”

Lin Chengyou turned back in feigned surprise: “Does Young Master Wang have something else?”

“As Young Master has seen,” Teng Yu’yi said pleasantly, “I’ve had quite a bit of interaction with the house’s false mothers and performers. Some things they might not tell you, they’ll freely tell me. Take Juan’er Li and Bao Zhu for example—I even know exactly how many scars they have. Sometimes their casual remarks often turn out to be important clues.”

Lin Chengyou pretended to listen very attentively: “Go on.”

“Living here these days, I’ve heard much idle talk, but somehow, some words seem right before my eyes yet I can’t recall them. Logically, my memory shouldn’t be this poor. Thinking it over, it must be due to drinking the Fire Jade Root Soup—with true qi churning inside me, my mind is also in chaos.”

“That makes sense,” Lin Chengyou nodded seriously. “So what does Young Master Wang plan to do?”

“If Young Master has a neutralizing prescription, please tell me quickly.”

Not wanting to tell her about his plans to obtain the Jade Countenance Pills from the palace, he deliberately asked: “Prescription? What prescription?”

Teng Yu’yi said curiously: “Naturally, the prescription to neutralize the Fire Jade Root Soup. Among the current main suspects, I’ve interacted with all of them. If I could neutralize the Fire Jade Root Soup sooner, I could also recall important clues sooner.”

Lin Chengyou chuckled: “Teng Yu’yi, you’re something else. Such a roundabout way—so this was your aim all along.”

Teng Yu’yi smiled brightly: “This benefits us both. The killer is exceptionally cunning, the performers all harbor their schemes, and Young Master has investigated for many days yet remains clueless. At this point, if an outsider could recall some key clues, perhaps the truth could surface. My realization about Bao Zhu’s strange behavior just now is one example.”

Lin Chengyou’s temple twitched.

Investigated for many days? Still, remains clueless?

What did Teng Yu’yi mean by these words—was she blatantly showing contempt?

Ridiculous, what right did she have to look down on him? He had already sorted out most of the clues, and the truth was within reach. He would expose the killer by tomorrow morning at the latest.

“I already told you the neutralization method,” he sneered. “Believe it or not, that’s up to you. Rather than scheming, Miss Teng might want to count how many hours she has left. Whether you practice or not doesn’t matter, but developing heat rash would be most unfortunate.”

At this point, he turned to open the door, then looked back at her askance: “Is Young Master Wang not leaving?”

Teng Yu’yi’s teeth ached as she turned and clomped down the stairs.

These past few days, everyone had been urgently seeking the killer, and she had participated too. She had tried to reason with him sensibly, but who knew Lin Chengyou would be so stubborn.

She wasn’t just seeking a shortcut—she worried the Second Demon might break in at any moment and suspected Lin Chengyou was hiding a better neutralization method, hence her questioning. If there was a medicinal soup, she wouldn’t have to worry about mastering the techniques.

Now she was thoroughly disheartened; it seemed she could only practice without rest or sleep.

She laughed coldly in her heart: A true gentleman must have revenge—Lin Chengyou, we shall see.

As soon as Lin Chengyou returned to the room, he walked straight to the desk and began rapidly flipping through a case file.

Director Yan said gently: “Chengyou, didn’t you just say you wanted to rest?”

“Not anymore.” Lin Chengyou focused intently, finishing one volume and picking up the next.

Director Yan was puzzled—why the sudden change of heart about resting?

He curiously glanced at the door: “What did Young Master Wang come to see you about?”

Just as Lin Chengyou was about to respond casually, a yamen runner rushed up and knocked: “Assessor Lin, we’ve caught those Hu merchants who sold the Heart-Rotting Grass.”

Lin Chengyou tensed, dropping what he held to open the door: “Have they been brought here?”

“They’re currently detained at the Court of Judicature.” The runner wiped his sweat. “These people are involved in other cases too. The Minister worried about complications en route and wouldn’t let them be brought to Caifeng House. However, he has questioned the Hu merchants on your behalf. Half a month ago, someone from Caifeng House did try to buy Heart-Rotting Grass from them, but the merchants didn’t have enough powder at the time, so no transaction was made.”

Lin Chengyou tensed: “Who?”

The runner said: “Lady Ge Jin.”

Director Yan was shocked: “It was her?”

“Lady Ge Jin’s face was already disfigured then, so she didn’t appear in person. She had a ruffian from Pingkang Ward named Tuo Tuo’er help make the connection. When Tuo Tuo’er couldn’t get the powder, he had someone relay the message to Lady Ge Jin. She only said she understood and didn’t mention buying again.”

Director Yan was stunned for a long while, then slowly nodded: “Well well, we’ve all been played by this Ge Jin. Chengyou, just as you said, no one wanted to kill the Yao Huang sisters more than Ge Jin. She deliberately staged that scene of misunderstanding Wei Zi to publicly clear herself of suspicion. Now that we’ve confirmed she tried to buy Heart-Rotting Grass, shouldn’t we arrest her?”

Lin Chengyou paced a couple of steps in thought. Though that made sense, would someone as calculating as the killer try to buy Heart-Rotting Grass so openly? Moreover, even if Ge Jin had a motive to kill the Yao Huang sisters, what about the Tian couple?

Compared to the Yao Huang sisters, the Tian couple were the killer’s first victims. Only by understanding the killer’s connection to the Tian couple could they explain that extremely sinister Seven-Point Guiding Mark.

He rubbed his chin, about to speak, when another yamen runner came up from downstairs: “Secretary Hong has arrived.”

Lin Chengyou’s eyes brightened: “Quickly, invite him up.”

Secretary Hong was Wannian County’s Legal Secretary responsible for interrogations and case investigations. All cases in the county first passed through his hands, and any cases the county couldn’t resolve were reported upward through him. Though his official rank wasn’t high, he had quite a reputation in the district.

Secretary Hong was built broad and round, walking with tiger-like vigor, his beard curling up like iron hooks, yet his teeth were snow-white and gleaming.

Entering the room, he smiled and bowed: “This humble official was responsible for investigating both the Tian couple’s case and Rong’s case. Here are the records—one for Rong and one for the Tian couple. Which would Assessor Lin and Director Yan like to hear about first?”

Lin Chengyou invited him to sit: “Let’s start with Rong.”

Secretary Hong lifted his robe to sit: “Rong died on the night of the second day of the tenth month the year before last. No one reported it that night; Madam Qi only sent someone to notify the ward chief the next morning. This humble official had heard that Madam Qi frequently abused Rong and suspected her death was related to this. But after investigation, both servants and neighbors said they hadn’t heard Rong cry for help that night, and the coroner’s examination revealed drowning as the cause of death. Furthermore, witnesses testified that in the days before her death, Rong often wept alone in corners, as if already harboring thoughts of death.

“This humble official couldn’t determine whether Rong’s death was suicide or murder, so I reported the matter to Prefect Dong. He said there wasn’t enough evidence against Madam Qi, and Tian Yunde showed no intention of pursuing the matter. Additionally, Rong had no relatives left in Yuezhou, so further investigation would be meaningless. This humble official had no choice but to close the case.”

Director Yan exclaimed in surprise: “Tian Yunde didn’t pursue it? His concubine suddenly died, yet this man did not react at all. Where was he when Rong died?”

Secretary Hong said: “Tian Yunde had gone to Yuezhou. When he returned and heard of Rong’s death, he fell ill that very night. Perhaps because his illness came on so suddenly, he never pursued Rong’s death. Later, it was Madam Qi who provided some silver and instructed servants to collect Rong’s body for burial.”

“Yuezhou—” Lin Chengyou and Director Yan were startled.

Secretary Hong was puzzled: “What’s wrong?”

Lin Chengyou asked with bated breath: “What was Tian Yunde doing in Yuezhou?”

“Buying patterned silk. I heard he was poor in his early years and built his fortune selling textiles. Though his business had grown considerably in recent years, he still personally went to Yuezhou each year to select fabrics.”

So Tian Yunde had maintained connections with Yuezhou all along!

“Tian Yunde already suffered from migraines. After falling ill, some doctors said it was from excessive grief, others said it was from fright. Either way, the illness came on fiercely.” Secretary Hong slowly recalled, “Who knows what Tian Yunde was afraid of—he had nightmares day and night. According to shop assistants, once when delirious from illness, Tian Yunde suddenly opened his eyes and said ghost shadows were wandering in the courtyard. Everyone thought it must be Rong, and from then on, rumors of the Silk Shop being haunted began to spread.”

Lin Chengyou’s expression subtly changed: “Wait—the haunting rumors started after Tian Yunde fell ill?”

“Yes, precisely because Tian Yunde kept saying there were ghosts in the courtyard during his illness. Madam Qi especially went to curse by the well several times, saying things like ‘In life, you bewitched people with your fox charm, in death, you still dare to stir up trouble.’ Later, somehow even Madam Qi became frightened and one day ran to nearby Qingguo Temple to get a talisman to paste in the courtyard.”

Lin Chengyou stood frozen, staring motionlessly at the case files on the table. He had thought the haunting came first and Tian Yunde’s illness followed, but it seems they had it all backward.

Since the haunting rumors only spread after Tian Yunde’s return, everything needed to be reconsidered from the beginning.

First, Tian Yunde went to Yuezhou, then fell gravely ill upon return, coinciding with his concubine’s death. Everyone assumed it was from excessive grief, but Tian Yunde showed no interest in investigating Rong’s death during his illness, not even concerning himself with her burial.

Could they all have been wrong—what if Tian Yunde’s serious illness had nothing to do with Rong, but rather with that trip to Yuezhou?

“How many days did Tian Yunde spend in Yuezhou before returning?”

Secretary Hong was taken aback, seemingly surprised by Lin Chengyou’s question. He quickly flipped through the records with his thick fingers, fortunately having verified Tian Yunde’s whereabouts before.

“Oh, he left on the twenty-seventh of the eighth month and returned on the seventh of the tenth month.”

Lin Chengyou lowered his gaze: “Only forty days. The journey from Chang’an to Yuezhou takes at least twenty days. If Tian Yunde was going to buy patterned silk, why would he return just after arriving in Yuezhou? Has Secretary Hong checked how long his previous trips to Yuezhou usually took?”

“This…” A touch of embarrassment appeared on Secretary Hong’s broad face. “This humble official was foolish and didn’t inquire about Tian Yunde’s previous trips to Yuezhou.”

“However…” He pondered for a moment and said, “When questioning at the shop, I heard one assistant say, ‘Rong dying like that in the back courtyard was truly frightening—fortunately the master returned early, otherwise who knows how we would have managed the business.’ From this, we know Tian Yunde returned earlier than usual.”

Lin Chengyou absently tapped the table. Rong died on the second, and Tian Yunde returned on the seventh—news of her death couldn’t have reached him so quickly. His early return must have been for another reason.

Could Tian Yunde have encountered something in Yuezhou, or perhaps someone? This unexpected event not only made him terminate his fabric purchasing plans but also caused him to fall ill upon returning to Chang’an.

Whatever could make a man in his prime so terrified must have been extraordinary.

Secretary Hong continued: “Tian Yunde died two months after falling ill, the cause being worsened migraines. Two reputable doctors had been taking turns treating him, and both can testify. The county coroner’s examination also found nothing suspicious about his death.”

“What about Madam Qi?”

“She hanged herself on the third night after Tian Yunde’s death.” Secretary Hong’s expression turned slightly strange. “Before hanging herself, she wrote an odd letter.”

“Where is the letter?”

Secretary Hong quickly pulled out a piece of paper from below.

Director Yan moved the candle closer, and with just one glance felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The paper was covered densely with characters, each line repeating the same phrase: “I am but a dog or swine, unworthy of living; I am but a dog or swine, unworthy of living…”

Lin Chengyou stared at the writing: “Has the handwriting been verified?”

“Yes, it’s confirmed to be Madam Qi’s handwriting.”

Lin Chengyou turned the letter over to examine the back. Given Madam Qi’s character, getting her to suddenly repent and write such a letter would be harder than ascending to heaven.

But if someone knew evil arts, that would be a different matter entirely.

Lin Chengyou looked up: “Secretary Hong has preserved this letter so well—did you also suspect something about Madam Qi’s death?”

“Yes.” Secretary Hong said seriously. “Madam Qi was domineering by nature—even in seeking death, she would never compare herself to ‘dogs and swine.’ However, firstly, none of the valuable items in the Silk Shop were missing, and secondly, Madam Qi seemed to have been contemplating suicide for some time. Just days before hanging herself, she divided her jewelry into several portions and donated them to various Buddhist temples. I thought, that since Madam Qi had no children, with Tian Yunde’s death she became truly alone. It’s possible that she suddenly developed suicidal thoughts and even underwent a dramatic personality change.”

Lin Chengyou gave a slight smile: “But this doesn’t rule out revenge killing. The tone of that suicide note is too strange, clearly carrying punitive implications. And judging from Madam Qi’s treatment of Rong, was she the type to repent voluntarily? Besides checking their property, did Secretary Hong investigate who might have held grudges against the Tian couple?”

Secretary Hong quietly broke into a sweat. To be honest, he had originally looked down on privileged young masters like Lin Chengyou, thinking they just threw their weight around based on family status and birth, when in fact they barely understood the basics of handling cases.

Of course, he kept these thoughts to himself, showing nothing on his face. To avoid criticism, he had come thoroughly prepared tonight, but who knew Lin Chengyou would be so thorough in his thinking, firing one question after another until it became hard to keep up.

He quickly gathered his thoughts to respond: “We did investigate. Tian Yunde was smooth in his dealings and mostly associated with wealthy merchants. I heard he maintained harmonious relationships and never made enemies. Even when Madam Qi had conflicts with others, they were merely trivial business disputes. However, this humble official discovered something strange during the investigation: the Tian couple had no relatives around them and never hosted visiting relatives.”

Lin Chengyou made a sound of interest: “Fascinating. The Tian couple were originally from Zhangqiu and only moved to Chang’an in winter ten years ago. Zhangqiu isn’t too far from Chang’an—logically, they shouldn’t have lost all contact with their hometown relations.”

“This humble official thought the same.” Secretary Hong said dubiously. “The Tian couple were extremely wealthy. Even if they didn’t want to associate with their poor relatives, they couldn’t prevent poor relatives from seeking them out. I initially didn’t believe this point, but both shop assistants and neighbors could testify to it, and when Madam Qi died, no relatives came to handle the funeral arrangements. Then I realized why Madam Qi donated her valuable jewelry to temples before death—she truly had no relatives left in this world.”

Lin Chengyou naturally asked: “So did Secretary Hong investigate the Tian couple’s affairs in Zhangqiu ten years ago?”

Secretary Hong’s face grew hot—not only had the investigation been shallow, but it had also been over a year ago.

Fortunately, his dark complexion hid his blush as he said apologetically: “This humble official wrote to the Household Registration Secretary in Zhangqiu, inquiring about the Tian couple’s relatives and friends there. But before the reply came, another case arose in the county. Being stretched thin, and thinking that after investigating for so many days, there seemed nothing suspicious about the Tian couple’s deaths, plus Prefect Dong urging me to investigate another case, this humble official… simply let it go.”

Lin Chengyou held out his palm to Secretary Hong: “Where is the letter?”

Secretary Hong coughed awkwardly, his voice so loud it made eardrums ring.

Lin Chengyou’s smile remained unchanged, but his tone hardened slightly: “Being an official correspondence, Zhangqiu Prefecture would have no reason not to reply.”

Secretary Hong’s face alternated between pale and flushed as he sheepishly took a letter from his robes and handed it to Lin Chengyou: “I brought the letter, but fearing Assessor Lin would mock my carelessness, I was too embarrassed to show it.”

Lin Chengyou shook off the dust on the envelope. By its appearance, the letter had been left in a corner for over a year. At least Secretary Hong hadn’t been foolish enough to throw it away—if they had to write to Zhangqiu again, it would take at least ten days to receive a reply.

The Household Registration Secretary of Zhangqiu had been meticulous, listing all relatives of both the Tian and Qi families on paper, with Tian Yunde on the left and Madam Qi on the right, creating clear and comprehensible family trees.

Tian Yunde’s parents had long passed away, and he had only one younger brother. Since Tian’s father was an only child, Tian Yunde had no uncles, cousins, or nephews. After his brother died from illness eleven years ago, only Tian Yunde and his wife remained in the entire Tian family.

Madam Qi’s side didn’t have many relatives either. She was the youngest daughter with two older sisters. The Qi family had always been poor, and her parents had died of illness before her marriage. Her two sisters had married and moved away, with no news from them for many years.

Regarding whether the Tian couple had made enemies in Zhangqiu, the letter stated: According to household records, the Tian couple left Zhangqiu in the seventh month of the Dinmao year. After that, both the Tian and Qi families became extinct lines in the area. Not only did the neighbors barely remember events from over a decade ago, but few even remembered the couple.

After reading the letter, Director Yan’s expression turned strange: “We thought this couple was deliberately avoiding enemies, but they truly had no relatives in their hometown.”

Lin Chengyou suddenly said: “Something’s wrong.”

Director Yan and Secretary Hong exclaimed in surprise: “What is it?”

“The dates don’t match.” Lin Chengyou pointed to a spot on the letter. “The letter says the Tian couple left Zhangqiu in the seventh month, but according to Wannian County’s household records, they didn’t arrive in Chang’an until the eleventh month. From the seventh to the eleventh month—where did they go during those four whole months?”

The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. Four months was neither particularly long nor short, but two grown adults needed not only food and drink but also shelter.

“Moreover, the Tian couple repeatedly claimed they made their fortune by selling Madam Qi’s dowry, but according to the letter, she came from a poor family—how could she have had such a large dowry to sell? Even if they had some savings, it would have been exchanged for grain during the famine.”

Secretary Hong, eager to make up for his previous oversight, scrambled to share every clue he knew: “But according to my investigation, when the Tian couple first arrived in Chang’an ten years ago, they immediately rented a shop in the East Market to sell expensive fabrics.”

Lin Chengyou glanced at him: “Don’t you find that strange? Renting a shop in the East Market was no easy feat, and selling patterned silk and other fine fabrics required substantial capital. If the dowry story was false, where did that money come from?”

Director Yan asked dubiously: “You mean—”

Lin Chengyou, recalling the ghastly state of the Tian couple’s ghosts, laughed coldly: “I’m wondering what happened during those four months. If we can figure out what the Tian couple did back then, we might understand the killer’s motive.”

Secretary Hong was both shocked and regretful: “So the Tian couple were indeed murdered?”

Lin Chengyou turned and pointed to Madam Qi’s suicide note: “The killer might fool others but not us. This letter and the Seven-Point Guiding Mark use the same technique—both are methods of controlling souls, manipulating victims like puppets to write letters and hang themselves. I suspect if we exhumed the body, we’d find needle marks on Madam Qi’s clothes.”

Secretary Hong’s face turned ashen. Madam Qi had been dead for over a year—her body would be decomposed. Trying to find evidence through exhumation now would be nearly impossible. He deeply regretted closing the case so hastily; if they had caught the killer then, perhaps the subsequent events could have been prevented.

Lin Chengyou suddenly asked: “Director Yan, Secretary Hong, if your entire family had to flee famine, where would you first consider going?”

Director Yan came to his senses: “In times of famine, I suppose we could only hope for relatives to take us in.”

“But the Tian family had no relatives left to turn to.” Lin Chengyou paced slowly before the table. “Madam Qi still had two sisters—for the Tian couple then, there could have been no better refuge. Unfortunately, the letter doesn’t say where her sisters are. Otherwise, we might know where the Tian couple stayed during those four months.”

As he spoke, he calculated internally: from Zhangqiu to somewhere else, then from there to Chang’an. By the time the Tian couple reappeared, they had somehow acquired money for the business.

Those four months changed the Tian couple’s fate forever.

Four months…

Four months…

Lin Chengyou’s eyelid twitched.

Could that place be—

He stood speechless in the room, feeling the tangled threads of clues gradually pointing clearly toward one location.

Yuezhou, the Yao Huang sisters, that sachet from the Peach Branch Embroidery Shop, the Tian couple’s unexplained disappearance for four months…

He suddenly raised his head: “Director Yan, quickly send a letter to Yuezhou Prefecture in the name of the Court of Judicature. Have someone deliver it by express messenger tonight.”

Director Yan started, hurriedly grabbing his sleeve and brush: “What should we ask?”

“I want to know if there were any unsolved cases in Yuezhou between the eighth and tenth months ten years ago, possibly near Peach Branch Ferry, where the culprit was never caught.” Lin Chengyou turned and hurried outside. “Secretary Hong, come with me.”

Secretary Hong rose in surprise: “Where are we going?”

“To try our luck. Several officials from Jiangnan East Circuit are currently in the capital for official business. With luck, someone might remember what happened in Yuezhou ten years ago. If not, there are several inns in the city run by people from Yuezhou—we can ask around thoroughly there.”

As Lin Chengyou spoke, he descended the stairs. The hall was empty and silent.

Reaching the courtyard, he looked around before curling his fingers into a circle and whistling.

Secretary Hong, following closely behind, stopped in confusion at this sight. The night wind passed through the hall, making the lantern hooks creak softly under the eaves.

After the whistle, the wind seemed to pause for a moment. As Secretary Hong found this strange, he heard faint movement from the roof, as if something massive was secretly crawling above.

The hair on Secretary Hong’s back stood on end. With his years of martial arts training, he knew immediately that whatever was on the roof was no ordinary creature.

But before he could draw his sword, Lin Chengyou stopped his hand on the hilt.

Lin Chengyou turned to look at Secretary Hong with a half-smile: “Let’s go.”

Secretary Hong was full of questions, but seeing Lin Chengyou already heading toward the main gate, he could only swallow his words.

After mounting their horses, he was still pondering what had been on the roof when Lin Chengyou handed him a note: “Secretary Hong, look at this—during the period when the Tian couple died, did you see any of these people entering or leaving the Silk Shop?”

Secretary Hong took the note, seeing the names of Wo Ji and five others written on it—all longtime residents of Pingkang Ward, names he somewhat recognized.

Knowing this was likely a list of suspects, he carefully considered: “When the Tian couple died, many came to watch the commotion. I saw two false mothers but only glimpsed them briefly. As for others… I really can’t remember clearly.”

Wo Ji and E Ji? Lin Chengyou held his reins: “Did they do anything unusual at the time?”

Secretary Hong shook his head: “I only remember them crowding with others to watch. When we dispersed the crowd, they left too. Oh right, this He Mingsheng only came to open his shop in Pingkang Ward half a year later—he probably wasn’t in Chang’an then.”

Lin Chengyou gripped the reins, making his horse turn in place twice. He hadn’t expected Secretary Hong to remember events from over a year ago. The killer had planned across more than a year, showing great effort—how could such a person easily reveal weaknesses in public?

He tucked the note back into his robe: “Let’s split up. I’ll go to the Memorial Hall first; you wait for me in Chongren Ward. There are many inns run by merchants from other regions in Chongren Ward. One called ‘Feeling Like Home’ is run by Yuezhou merchants—the traders should know many local stories. Secretary Hong, please inquire thoroughly about the unsolved case from Yuezhou ten years ago.”

Secretary Hong gripped his riding crop and cupped his hands: “Rest assured, Assessor Lin, I understand.”

Lin Chengyou nodded and galloped away, shaking his reins.

Secretary Hong followed on horseback, but felt puzzled. Once Director Yan’s letter was sent, Yuezhou would reply quickly—whether the Tian couple had gone to Yuezhou would be clear within half a month.

But looking at Lin Chengyou’s manner, he seemed unable to wait until dawn. Though he too had experienced investigating cases day and night, people inevitably tire. Unless a case was extremely urgent, there was no need to rush around at night.

Yet Lin Chengyou seemed determined to find the killer tonight—

Secretary Hong pondered as he wielded his riding crop, disappearing into the night in an instant.

***

Director Yan waited and waited, but Lin Chengyou and Secretary Hong didn’t return.

He dozed while propping up his forehead, accidentally falling into a deep sleep. After sleeping for an unknown time, he vaguely heard noisy activity. When he opened his eyes again, bright sunlight filled his vision. Director Yan’s back suddenly straightened—he had slept until dawn.

He hurriedly adjusted his headband and rushed to open the door, only to see a yamen runner coming up saying: “Assessor Lin has returned and asked Director Yan to bring paper, ink, and brushes to meet him at the flatbread shop next door immediately.”

Director Yan quickly found the flatbread shop from before, indeed seeing Lin Chengyou and Secretary Hong sitting inside, along with several merchant-looking men sitting nearby, all appearing somewhat nervous.

Though the merchants wore fine silk, their robes were covered in dust, clearly having been thrown to the ground.

Lin Chengyou had cleaned his face and hands, and looked around with a pleasant smile: “Well, why so quiet? Do I look like a bad person?”

The merchants trembled: “Earlier at the inn we didn’t recognize Young Master, and were very offensive. Please, Young Master, considering our foolishness, don’t hold it against us.”

“Speaking of offense, you did waste quite a bit of my time.” Lin Chengyou raised his long eyebrows. “However, I’m most magnanimous, and today’s situation is somewhat special. Considering your willingness to make amends, I can give you an opportunity.”

The merchants hurriedly swore to heaven: “As long as Young Master shows mercy, we’ll do whatever Young Master arranges.”

Lin Chengyou played with the wine cup in his hand: “Actually, it’s just a small matter. Since you all happen to live near Peach Branch Ferry and remember that unsolved case from ten years ago in the eighth month, I’ve brought you here simply to identify someone.”

Fear showed on the merchants’ faces, but they were clearly more afraid of Lin Chengyou. After exchanging glances, they quickly nodded.

Lin Chengyou said pleasantly: “I know what you’re afraid of. Don’t worry—though this person might be the culprit, as long as you identify them today, I guarantee they’ll have no chance to retaliate against you.”

Just then, Secretary Hong suddenly said: “Director Yan, please sit.”

Lin Chengyou nodded to Director Yan and continued: “Don’t all talk at once like before. Have someone with the clearest speech tell the story, and the rest can help fill in any missing details.”

Director Yan was both shocked and delighted. After sitting, he quietly asked Secretary Hong: “There was an unsolved case?”

Secretary Hong nodded: “It wasn’t sensational, but quite a few people know about it. These Yuezhou merchants lived near Peach Branch Ferry back then. They happened to be staying at the inn while trading in Chang’an, and matched Assessor Lin’s inquiry immediately.”

The merchants whispered among themselves before collectively pushing forward a man in blue robes as their representative. The man cleared his throat and slowly began: “This happened over ten years ago. Fortunately, some still remember. Back then, there was a household near our ferry—the head of the household was surnamed Peng, a scholar.

“Scholar Peng wasn’t originally from Yuezhou. They say he had gone to Chang’an years ago to take the imperial examinations but failed. Too ashamed to return home, he chose to travel around with his wife. Somehow, they ended up in Yuezhou, not only settling there but opening a private school near Peach Branch Ferry.

“When this humble one was young and played at the ferry, I often saw Scholar Peng. After opening his school, though he charged very little tuition, having no official degree meant he got few students. To make ends meet, he would sell calligraphy and paintings in the market during his free time, sometimes bringing needlework done by his wife. Unfortunately, Madam Peng was from Guanzhong, and her embroidery couldn’t compare to local Yuezhou embroiderers—”

Lin Chengyou suddenly asked: “What was Scholar Peng’s wife’s surname?”

The man in blue robes nudged his companion with his shoulder: “Does anyone remember?”

“It was probably Yin, or maybe Qi,” someone said softly. “My elder brother once studied at Scholar Peng’s school and said the teacher’s wife was incredibly kind, though unfortunately, her Guanzhong accent made some of her speech hard to understand. Oh right, Scholar Peng had two children—the eldest son was about my age, if alive now would be twenty-six or twenty-seven, and the daughter, if alive, would be fifteen or sixteen.”

Lin Chengyou’s eyes flickered slightly. He waited patiently for a while, but seeing no one adding more details, he had to say: “Continue.”

The man in blue robes continued: “During festivals and holidays, neighbors often asked Scholar Peng to help with calligraphy. Being soft-hearted, even when money was tight, he would never ask for payment if someone just mentioned needing help. Later, as the family’s situation grew more difficult, neighbors would often send them food to help out.

“Scholar Peng had somewhat pedantic ways—even in such dire straits, he never forgot to teach his children reading and writing. I often saw the Peng’s eldest son crouching by the ferry reading, his handwriting was exceptionally beautiful. Their young daughter was fair and pretty even at such a young age. When neighbors would sometimes praise them, the Peng couple’s faces would beam with pride.

“Several years passed this way. As Scholar Peng aged and saw his scholarly ambitions were hopeless, he gave up plans to take the examinations in Chang’an. But too proud to admit defeat, he secretly learned to fish from the ferry workers. Once while fishing at night, he accidentally saved someone—by chance, it was one of our local wealthy merchants who had fallen into the river while drunk. The merchant was grateful for Scholar Peng saving his life and specially hosted a feast for the whole family. We all guessed…”

The man in blue robes turned to look at his companions as if confirming his account was correct. After receiving affirming looks, he continued.

“We all guessed that the merchant gave Scholar Peng a large sum of money because, after that, Scholar Peng rarely went fishing at the ferry anymore. Though he wouldn’t spend money on new clothes for himself, he had new dresses made for his wife and daughter, and soon after bought fine writing materials for his eldest son, saying with the young master’s talent, if he studied hard for two more years, he could go to Chang’an for the examinations the year after next. After some time, Scholar Peng sold their humble dwelling and moved his children to an estate halfway up the mountain, even buying two boats and hiring people to fish for them.

“On their moving day, I went with my parents to join the excitement. The neighbors knew how the Peng family had come into wealth, but seeing how happy they were, no one teased them about it.

“After moving, the Peng family rarely came down the mountain, so we saw our old neighbors less often. Everyone said this was the Peng couple’s reward after their hardships—if their eldest son passed the examinations next year, perhaps the whole family would move to Chang’an. But unexpectedly…”

At this point, the man’s face showed reluctance, and he sighed several times: “Unfortunately, their good fortune didn’t last—the family met with disaster soon after. It was August, when the north was experiencing famine, and many refugees had flooded south. Peach Branch Ferry often had strangers coming ashore, including thieves and bandits, causing frequent chaos. People tried to avoid the ferry to stay safe, but for some strange reason, the Peng family chose exactly this time to go down to the ferry, unfortunately encountering robbers and meeting with disaster. When they were discovered, the boats had been pierced through, and all four family members were missing. When neighbors reported to the authorities, it took several days of searching to recover the bodies of Scholar Peng and his wife. In the August heat, after being in the water so long, the couple were unrecognizable.”

Someone sighed deeply, seemingly recalling the tragic scene.

The man in blue robes paused for a moment, then continued dejectedly: “The authorities searched for several more days but couldn’t find the bodies of the Peng siblings, though they did recover their clothes. The ferry’s current was rapid—there was no hope of survival for anyone who fell in, and if they were alive, the siblings would have come ashore long ago. The officials also said Scholar Peng and his wife had head injuries, likely being struck before being thrown into the river. When they searched the Peng family estate, they found not a single valuable item remaining—robbed by villains.

“The authorities asked if we had seen any strangers visiting the Peng couple, but we hadn’t seen them in a long time, and with refugees running everywhere, all households had kept their doors tightly shut. The neighbors neither knew about any recent visitors to the Peng family nor why they had gone down to the ferry. Coincidentally, the fisherman they had hired was also missing, so the authorities suspected him as the killer, but soon found his floating corpse, also bearing injuries. After that, the authorities never found the killer, and the case was left unsolved.”

The room fell silent, everyone wearing different expressions. Such a good family meeting such a tragic end in one night—anyone would find it tragic.

Director Yan sighed while writing, Secretary Hong frowned in thought, and the merchants kept their eyes down, occasionally glancing at Lin Chengyou.

Lin Chengyou rubbed his wine cup, remaining silent for a long time.

Scholar Peng’s wife was surnamed Yin or Qi—if it was Qi, she might well have been one of Madam Qi’s sisters.

Following this reasoning, where the Tian couple spent those four months ten years ago seemed to have an answer.

The couple fled from Zhangqiu in July, heading straight for the sister in Yuezhou, taking about a month on the road, arriving in Yuezhou around August.

And the Peng family met their tragedy in August.

Strangely, by the time the Tian couple returned to Chang’an, they had capital for business. They used this money to open a shop in the East Market, starting a textile business.

Ten years had passed—the Peng family of four had become a pile of dry bones, while the Tian couple had become wealthy residents of Chang’an. Those four months’ experiences had left almost no trace in their lives.

But could it be erased? Lin Chengyou thought coldly. Those were four lives—endless hatred would crawl up from underground like poisonous weeds.

That explained the self-condemning letter saying “I am but a dog or swine, unworthy of living,” and the horrifying Seven-Point Guiding Mark.

That’s why taking the Tian couple’s lives wasn’t enough—their souls had to be captured and tortured.

Moreover, the Tian couple’s ghosts had said the killer’s surname had twelve strokes.

The surname “Peng” had exactly twelve strokes.

Perhaps someone had survived that catastrophe from years ago.

Lin Chengyou’s face remained calm, but huge waves churned in his heart. Several unsolved cases spanning an entire decade—if he hadn’t coincidentally stayed at Caifeng House, perhaps he would never have known about this unsolved case from ten years ago.

By now the case was becoming increasingly clear, but for some reason, the closer they got to the truth, the more complicated his feelings became. Light has its shadow, wrong has its right, but some things in this world simply can’t be measured by right or wrong.

He collected himself and asked: “Were the bodies of Scholar Peng’s children never found?”

“No,” the wealthy merchant in blue shook his head. “People drown at our ferry every year—if bodies don’t surface, they’re usually swept downstream.”

“In all these years, have you ever seen anyone in Yuezhou who resembled the siblings?”

The merchants fell silent for a moment before shaking their heads: “If we had, this humble one would probably have been scared to death. Besides, the Peng daughter was only six or seven when she died—even if she miraculously survived, her appearance would have changed. The eldest son was sixteen or seventeen then, but after more than ten years…”

Lin Chengyou eyed them: “No matter how much appearances change, some trace of former features should remain. Later, I’ll have you look at some people—if you notice any resemblance, just tell me. Also, do you remember the names of the Peng son and daughter?”

The merchants shook their heads: “We just remember Scholar Peng always calling his son ‘Eldest Son, Eldest Son’—don’t know about the daughter.”

Lin Chengyou pondered. At this point in the investigation, he had a general idea of why the killer murdered the Tian couple, but why the Yao Huang sisters were killed remained a mystery.

Thinking of the Yao Huang sisters’ early experiences, he asked: “There was a couple of performers in Yuezhou Prefecture skilled in ventriloquism, surnamed Nie, with two daughters—the elder named Nie Afu, the younger Nie Aqu. Master Nie was implicated in Li Changmao’s treason case, and his daughters were sold off—have you heard of this?”

The merchants answered quickly this time: “Of course, we’ve heard of it. How could we not? This humble one knows all the extraordinary tales of Yuezhou City. Master Nie’s bird call imitations were incredibly lifelike, and quite famous in his time. But before their troubles, they always lived in the entertainment district in the city, far from the ferry.”

Not living at Peach Branch Ferry? Lin Chengyou was secretly surprised. He had thought the Yao Huang sisters were killed because they recognized the killer, but it seemed he was wrong. Not being neighbors, their chances of knowing each other were minimal. Besides, Yao Huang was only eight-ten years ago, and Qing Zhi was just five—too young to have any impression of the Peng family case.

So why were they killed?

He casually poured himself tea. After Caifeng House opened, the Yao Huang sisters lived under the same roof as the killer. Qing Zhi liked to steal things—perhaps one day she accidentally discovered evidence of the killer murdering the Tian couple.

No, someone so cautious wouldn’t let a young girl get such leverage.

But without leverage, why would the killer be blackmailed by Qing Zhi?

What was missing… Lin Chengyou frowned deeply, suddenly remembering Rong.

“Have you heard of an embroiderer surnamed Rong?”

The merchants shook their heads blankly.

Lin Chengyou took out the killer’s sachet: “Here, look at this—does it seem familiar?”

Everyone made sounds of recognition: “This looks like work from Peach Branch Embroidery Shop.”

“You know this shop?”

“Of course—it’s a famous shop near the ferry. The name ‘Peach Branch’ was even taken from the ferry’s name.”

Lin Chengyou rubbed his chin: “Being so close, have you heard of an embroiderer whose daughter married a wealthy Chang’an merchant as a concubine?”

The man in blue robes was about to shake his head when a merchant behind him leaned forward: “Yes, yes, there was such a thing. My mother often bought work from Peach Branch Embroidery Shop and was quite familiar with the people there. At that time, I was thinking of taking a concubine, so my mother kept an eye out. About a year or two ago, my mother suddenly came home saying she had originally considered an old embroiderer’s daughter, but before she could make arrangements, the girl was spotted by a wealthy merchant from Chang’an. The merchant offered the old embroiderer a large sum and took the young lady to Chang’an.”

Director Yan and Secretary Hong were startled: “Isn’t that Rong?”

Indeed, Rong’s mother was a Yuezhou embroiderer, and the timing matched.

Lin Chengyou’s expression turned strange: “So Rong also lived at Peach Branch Ferry? Then wouldn’t she have known about the Peng family case…”

His voice stopped abruptly as he suddenly stood up.

He finally understood why Qing Zhi had openly claimed to be from the same hometown as Rong!

Everyone had thought Qing Zhi was just seeking attention—after all, Rong had been dead for over a year, and with Caifeng House often haunted, only a fool would want to claim connections with a dead person having no relation to them.

But actually, Qing Zhi wasn’t talking nonsense—she had deliberately said those words for the killer to hear.

She was using this method to blackmail the killer, knowing their secret.

As for how she knew, it naturally involved Rong.

Even before Rong’s death, Qing Zhi had visited the Silk Shop with Wo Ji. Being desperate to find her lost sister, Qing Zhi had noticed Rong’s Yuezhou accent and surely found ways to talk with her.

Once they became familiar, they must have talked about many things. Perhaps Rong had mentioned something about the Peng family that Qing Zhi remembered.

A year later, when Caifeng House opened, Qing Zhi came with Wo Ji. Seeing the killer daily, she must have glimpsed their secret at some moment.

Though appearing simple-minded, Qing Zhi was quite calculating. After learning this secret, she blackmailed the killer, apparently successfully—hence the valuable jewelry hidden under the preserved cherries.

During these dealings with Qing Zhi, the killer accidentally learned that Qing Zhi and Yao Huang were sisters. Fearing their secret would be revealed, after killing Qing Zhi, they went after Yao Huang.

No wonder the killer, while truly hating the Tian couple, had also murdered the Yao Huang sisters.

Lin Chengyou stared steadily outside. After the morning drums, the marketplace gradually came alive. Outside, carriages and horses created a din, but in his ears was only thunder and lightning. The cases were tightly connected, the killer having barely shown any weakness. If not for coincidentally finding these Yuezhou merchants, it might have taken another ten days to unravel the truth.

How long had it been since he’d faced such a calculating opponent? He was practically burning with anticipation. Thinking of how flawlessly this person had acted daily, he couldn’t wait to see the moment when he exposed their true face.

He lowered his gaze and unhurriedly finished his tea. The more urgent he felt inside, the calmer he needed to appear outside. Composing his expression, he stood and looked around, smiling: “Let’s go. To Caifeng House for the identification. Don’t make a fuss when we arrive—follow my arrangements.”

***

Teng Yu’yi practiced swords alone in the garden.

Last night’s drizzle had continued until morning before clearing. Sunlight fell on the blue-green glazed tiles, bursting into countless bright white sparkles. Such good weather was perfect for sword practice, but the “Wearing Coarse Cloth Sword Technique” grew increasingly difficult toward the end. After learning the first twenty moves, Teng Yu’yi’s speed suddenly slowed. What originally took half an hour now required more than an hour to master.

It would be lying to say she wasn’t anxious. Taking advantage of the clear weather, she practiced vigorously, regardless of the muddy ground.

Suddenly, a yamen runner led a group of people over: “Young Master Wang, please make way. The garden needs to be cleared for an investigation—no one can remain here for now.”

Another investigation? Teng Yu’yi turned to examine the arrivals. She recognized Director Yan, but the rest were strangers. Lin Chengyou wouldn’t bring random people without reason—it must relate to solving the case.

The merchants also observed Teng Yu’yi. Years of trading between regions had given them sharp eyes. Seeing this youth’s noble bearing, they guessed he was from some distinguished family, though they wondered why he wore such a large false beard covering half his face.

Teng Yu’yi discreetly withdrew her gaze. It seemed she wouldn’t be able to complete all thirty-six moves in one go unless the killer was caught soon. If she couldn’t practice in the garden, she’d go elsewhere. She saluted Director Yan with crossed hands, deliberately deepening her voice: “Uncle, let’s go.”

She headed toward the small Buddha hall. The yamen runners hesitated briefly—Assessor Lin had only said no one could remain in the garden, not mentioning the Buddha hall. Besides, this Young Master Wang seemed important—why needlessly offend him?

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi were dozing by the wall while the five Daoists were busy dividing some flatbread. Looking up to see Teng Yu’yi enter, they were about to ask why she’d stopped practicing when they saw the yamen runner leading a group of richly dressed strangers.

“What’s this?”

Before the runners could speak, they heard Lin Chengyou’s voice.

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi startled awake, rubbing their eyes: “Senior Brother.”

Shortly after, Lin Chengyou entered and told the merchants: “You’ll identify people here in the small Buddha hall. Even if you recognize someone, don’t make a fuss.”

They nodded nervously.

Teng Yu’yi had planned to ask the five Daoists to practice elsewhere, but now her curiosity was piqued. Lin Chengyou had been busy all night and seemed to have discovered quite a bit.

Should she stay to watch or return to her room to practice?

Lin Chengyou turned to arrange something with the Daoists when he unexpectedly saw Teng Yu’yi. Rubbing his chin, he thought—hadn’t she said last night he was clueless? Today would be perfect to open her eyes.

“Oh,” he smiled. “Sorry to disturb Young Master Wang’s training. We need this Buddha hall for business—you won’t be able to practice for a while. Unlike others, Young Master learns so slowly, better move elsewhere early, lest we delay your sword practice.”

Teng Yu’yi immediately sensed a trap. Though the words were mocking, they contained a challenge. Logically, Lin Chengyou should want them far away—why “challenge” her to stay?

Though knowing Lin Chengyou had ulterior motives, she couldn’t resist the temptation of witnessing the killer’s identification. She simply adopted a spectator’s stance, smiling sweetly: “This much time, Wang can afford to waste. Since Young Master is so willing for us to stay and watch, this one wouldn’t dare decline.”

Lin Chengyou, thick-skinned as ever, maintained his smile even when exposed, thinking to himself: Well, you chose to stay—just watch carefully then.

He turned to say something to the five Daoists when someone arrived in the garden.

The five Daoists looked at the merchants and couldn’t help asking: “Young Master, do they recognize the killer?”

“Shh, be quiet,” Lin Chengyou peered through the window lattice. “Let them try.”

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi had wanted to rush to their Senior Brother, but seeing his solemn expression, they realized the atmosphere was different and tiptoed to Teng Yu’yi’s side to watch with her.

The first to arrive was Ge Jin. The yamen runner led her to stand near a peony bush and said something. Ge Jin hesitated before removing her veil, exposing her entire face to the sunlight.

The merchants seemed shocked by the scars on this beautiful woman’s face, their breathing growing heavier, though fortunately Lin Chengyou had apparently warned them beforehand, preventing any startled cries.

Teng Yu’yi carefully examined Ge Jin. Identification wasn’t easy, and the killer was particularly cunning. They needed to avoid alerting suspicion while ensuring clear views of faces. Thus, hiding in the Buddha hall for identification wasn’t a bad method. As long as people stood in the sunlight, those inside could see every feature.

The yamen runner asked questions while discreetly leading Ge Jin to turn several times.

Lin Chengyou watched the merchants intently, but before long, they all shook their heads together.

Though Lin Chengyou’s expression was strange, he didn’t seem very surprised. Director Yan, however, was greatly startled. He grabbed the blue-robed merchant’s sleeve, gesturing for them to look more carefully. The merchants shrank back slightly but still indicated no recognition.

The second to come was He Mingsheng. Already naturally more corpulent than others, his confinement these past days had made him even plumper and paler.

With today’s warm weather, just the short walk left his face covered in gleaming sweat. Reaching the flowers, he looked around bewilderedly before putting on a smile and bowing to ask the yamen runner something.

The merchants unanimously shook their heads upon seeing He Mingsheng’s pale, fat face.

Next came Wo Ji, E Ji, and Juan’er Li in succession.

The merchants rejected Wo Ji and E Ji because their ages didn’t match.

But when it came to Juan’er Li, the man in blue robes showed a confused expression. Lin Chengyou stared at the wealthy merchant, gesturing with his eyes to look carefully.

The merchants exchanged glances before finally shaking their heads.

Bao Zhu came last. This time, all the merchants’ expressions changed. As soon as the yamen runner led Bao Zhu away, they spoke up: “She looks somewhat like the Peng family’s young lady.”

Lin Chengyou remained silent, but Director Yan and Secretary Hong asked uncertainly: “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

“She looks somewhat similar. The Peng family’s young lady was only five or six when she died, and her features were not fully developed. We just remember she was pretty, a beauty in the making. But Scholar Peng’s wife was different—this humble one saw her several times back then. Remember she had fair skin and a pointed chin. That young lady just now looked somewhat like Scholar Peng’s wife.”

Others agreed: “Right, of these six people, she most resembles the Peng family.”

Teng Yu’yi thought silently—could it be Bao Zhu? Had she come last night to talk about Juan’er Li to clear herself of suspicion? The killer was deeply calculating. If it was truly Bao Zhu, what was her purpose in suddenly mentioning the Wandering Immortal last night?

Secretary Hong couldn’t contain himself: “Young Master, shall we arrest her now?”

Everyone turned their attention to Lin Chengyou, who stared dubiously at Bao Zhu’s retreating figure without answering for a long time. After quite a while, he gave a strange smile: “Yes. But before we make the arrest, we need to do something else first.”

***

After Lin Chengyou left, Teng Yu’yi practiced for another hour. The sword technique’s later parts incorporated many Daoist mental cultivation methods, growing increasingly difficult. Having no foundation at all, she completely stalled at the twenty-second move.

At this rate, she wouldn’t finish by nightfall. She gritted her teeth, looking at the jade sword in her hand. What to do—just accept getting heat rash? Hmph, not a chance. But even refusing to give up wouldn’t help—martial arts couldn’t be stolen or shortcuts taken. For someone who had never learned martial arts before, she had already nearly killed herself getting this far.

Was there no way to neutralize this strange soup? She paced anxiously. Aside from the heat rash issue, just considering the tremendous benefits after neutralization, she couldn’t bear to give up.

The sky grew increasingly dark. Waiting passively wasn’t her style—she needed to think of something quickly.

While Teng Yu’yi racked her brains for ideas, the five Daoists weren’t idle either.

Being typically unreliable, and since teaching martial arts wasn’t an easy task, seeing that Teng Yu’yi couldn’t master it quickly, they planned to quit: “Miss Teng, it’s not that we don’t want to teach you properly, but we old Daoists have realized we shouldn’t go against heaven’s will. A delicate young lady like you should learn slowly. Better give up—it’s just a few heat rashes. You’re young, they’ll fade in a few months. Ah, ah, can’t talk more now, the weather’s getting worse—we old Daoists need to go protect the array in the garden.”

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi stomped their feet in anger: “Elders, how can you do this?”

But the five Daoists headed straight for the door. Teng Yu’yi gave Butler Cheng a look, and he quickly blocked the Daoists’ path, smiling mildly: “Venerable ones, hear me out. We don’t know exactly how long the Fire Jade Root Soup’s effects will last. Continuing to learn still gives hope of success, but stopping means giving up completely. Please be more patient—my young mistress is exceptionally intelligent, she might breakthrough at any moment.”

The five Daoists exclaimed: “It’s not that we don’t want to teach, but shouldn’t we prioritize now—”

Teng Yu’yi walked over slowly: “In ancient times there was Wei Sheng’s faithfulness and more recently Ji Bu’s promise. This shows that in people’s eyes, the words ‘trust’ and ‘promise’ are worth more than gold. Daoists always speak of the Way, emphasizing these virtues more than ordinary people. To go back on your word now seems somewhat improper, doesn’t it?”

The five Daoists stammered: “No—”

Teng Yu’yi reached the door and paused: “The other day at Drunken Butterfly Pavilion while drinking, you promised to teach this complete sword technique. Having promised, when and how to stop isn’t up to you anymore.”

Jian Tian and the others choked: “You—”

Teng Yu’yi turned back with a smile: “I know you don’t truly mean to break your promise. Not sleeping all night has made you confused from exhaustion. Rest well here in the Buddha hall—I’ll get some wine. After drinking and recovering your spirits, you can teach me sword techniques properly.”

During this conversation, Butler Cheng had quietly blocked the door completely. The five Daoists knew his martial arts were formidable—forcing their way out would mean a fight. Besides, they were in the wrong, and winning wouldn’t bring them any glory. So they grumbled angrily: “Miss Teng, what do you mean? We never said we definitely wouldn’t teach—why are you confining us here?”

Teng Yu’yi ignored them, leading Huo Qiu down the steps. After a few steps, she suddenly turned back to beckon to Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi.

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi rushed out, saying urgently: “Miss Teng, don’t panic yet. We don’t know when the Second Demon will come. There are still several hours until dark—if we practice intensively, there’s still hope of mastering it.”

But their expressions and tones were hesitant, showing they too felt the hope was slim.

Teng Yu’yi asked quietly: “That Peach Blossom Sword Technique you mentioned before, which can supposedly be learned in half an hour—is that manual at your Qingyun Temple?”

“Yes,” Jue Sheng was startled. “Miss Teng, surely you’re not thinking of going to get that manual now? It won’t work—even if we found it, we don’t know it.”

“Getting the manual… indeed there’s no time.” Teng Yu’yi looked at the sky, then suddenly changed tack: “Doesn’t Lin Chengyou know this technique?”

Yi Zhi’s eyes widened slightly—as Miss Teng tried to find a way to get Senior Brother to teach her.

“Senior Brother does know it, but—”

Teng Yu’yi pondered. As long as Lin Chengyou knew the technique, everything else could be arranged.

She smiled and nodded: “You two go back and rest well. I’ll arrange some good food.”

Soon reaching Yi Cui Pavilion, Teng Yu’yi surveyed the surroundings. All doors were tightly shut, and the yamen runners hadn’t withdrawn. Though Lin Chengyou had said he would make an arrest, he hadn’t acted yet. In her view, either he hadn’t decided how to make the arrest, or he was waiting for some news…

Her confidence grew. Taking Huo Qiu, she went to the front building and immediately saw Lin Chengyou coming down the stairs.

“It’s been over an hour—still no news?” Lin Chengyou asked.

Director Yan said: “The agents are showing the Wandering Immortal’s portrait at the inns, but there are too many inns in the city. Checking them one by one might—”

Lin Chengyou was about to reply when he looked up and saw Teng Yu’yi: “Young Master Wang?”

He walked straight to the table and sat down, lifting his robe: “Why isn’t Young Master Wang practicing sword properly in the back? What are you doing here?”

Teng Yu’yi formally cupped her hands: “This Wang came to help catch the killer.”

“Catch the killer?” Lin Chengyou had just raised his teacup to his lips but smiled and put it down again. “I didn’t know Young Master Wang was so enthusiastic. But as you saw earlier, we already know who the killer is. Young Master Wang should leave quickly—not causing trouble would be good enough.”

Teng Yu’yi feigned puzzlement: “If you’re certain who the killer is, why haven’t you made the arrest?”

Lin Chengyou’s smile faltered slightly before he sneered: “What does Young Master Wang think?”

But Teng Yu’yi wouldn’t continue, only smiling and pointing to Huo Qiu behind her: “My guard has important matters to report to Young Master. Please step aside for a word.”

Lin Chengyou noticed the slight surprise in Huo Qiu’s eyes, knowing Teng Yu’yi was probably making things up again. He originally didn’t want to bother, but his curiosity had been piqued by her previous question. Though knowing what Teng Yu’yi wanted from him, he still reluctantly stood up.

Following Teng Yu’yi directly to a flower bed in the front courtyard, he lazily folded his arms: “Whatever you have to say, say it here.”

Teng Yu’yi had Huo Qiu withdraw to one side before speaking unhurriedly: “Actually, I don’t know who the killer is, but these days in the house, I’ve seen the killer’s capabilities. This person is not only resolute but also quite versed in evil arts. That’s why even though Young Master knows who it is, you dare not act rashly. You know that given the killer’s nature, they won’t confess unless the evidence is absolute. You’re insisting on waiting for news of that mysterious Wandering Immortal for this reason, right?”

Lin Chengyou listened attentively, and when Teng Yu’yi finished, said with interest: “Continue.”

Teng Yu’yi smiled: “I guess Young Master also thinks that rather than hoping the killer will confess voluntarily, it’s better to set a trap. As for how it starts with that sachet. Since the incident began, the sachet is the killer’s only slip-up, because they still had someone to kill. Your interruption of their plan meant they couldn’t complete it. Since the killer’s wish remains unfulfilled, we just need to set a trap making them think they can still act.”

Teng Yu’yi’s words hit right at Lin Chengyou’s thoughts. Aside from whether the killer would confess, just the fact that they had killed twice under his nose made this more than just gathering evidence. He wanted to use their methods against them, to expose their true face unexpectedly. As for setting the trap, this afternoon he had already thought of two strategies, but due to the killer’s cunning, he was uncertain about several details. After all, this wasn’t child’s play—the trap had to ensure the killer would take the bait.

“I brought Huo Qiu to help Young Master set the trap,” Teng Yu’yi said. “I now have an excellent idea, guaranteed to catch the killer. Only—”

“Only you want to negotiate terms?” Lin Chengyou said. “Young Master Wang, never mind that I’ve already thought these things through and know what to do. Just considering familiarity with the case, you’re far behind me. Do you think I’d be very interested in your supposedly excellent idea?”

The ink-black of his eyes seemed to dissolve with his smile as he laughed and turned to leave.

Teng Yu’yi smiled at his retreating figure: “What does Young Master’s familiarity with the case matter? The killer naturally becomes guarded upon seeing you. I’m different—I’m just temporarily staying here, with no connection to either the killer or victims. The case’s progress has nothing to do with me. The same trap set by you might not fool the killer. But set by an outsider like me, the killer’s guard would be greatly lowered.”

Lin Chengyou’s steps halted.

Teng Yu’yi walked around to face him: “Young Master hesitates because you have few people to use for the trap, right? The killer knows Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi are your junior brothers, while Director Yan and the Legal Secretary are officials. The five Daoists are unreliable, and bringing in outsiders now would only alert suspicion. Unable to decide on personnel, the trap becomes difficult to set, because once the killer grows suspicious, the trap will certainly fail. Currently, it seems there’s no more suitable person to set the trap than me.”

“Moreover,” she pointed to Huo Qiu in the distance, “Huo Qiu has reported to Young Master that he encountered Qing Zhi outside the night she died. Qing Zhi died late at night—when Huo Qiu saw her, something must have already been wrong with her. This is a good hook. The killer is extremely clever, and clever people tend to be suspicious. If we add Huo Qiu to the trap, it will be even easier to lure the killer.”

The rest needn’t be said—Huo Qiu was her man. Getting his cooperation required her permission.

She looked utterly sincere: “I genuinely want to help set the trap. The killer is ruthless—by volunteering as bait, I’m taking a great risk.”

Speaking to this point, she knew it was about enough. Though Lin Chengyou was arrogant, he was supremely intelligent. Compared to feuding with her, catching the killer was naturally more important. Besides, this person was mischievous but flexible—when it was time to be humble, he wouldn’t insist on putting on airs.

“Time is short,” Teng Yu’yi smiled and turned to leave. “If Young Master changes his mind, send someone to find me at the small Buddha hall.”

As she walked, she counted silently in her heart. When she reached five, Lin Chengyou spoke behind her: “Wait.”

Teng Yu’yi’s lips curled up.

Lin Chengyou walked up to her, smiling with his hands behind his back: “Tell me, what do you want?”

***

As evening approached, Lin Chengyou had the yamen runners go down to announce that the ox carts from Dayin Temple were arriving soon, telling the performers to prepare to leave.

The performers had already heard they needed to relocate to Dayin Temple to avoid danger and had packed their clothes and shoes.

Following the yamen runners to the front building, they heard a woman’s cry from far away: “No—it wasn’t me!”

Everyone’s hearts jumped, unconsciously quickening their pace. Reaching the hall, they saw many people inside—besides Lin Chengyou and others, there were several unfamiliar Hu merchants.

Lin Chengyou wore a jade crown and an ink-green robe with gold bamboo patterns. He leaned against a table, looking somewhat exhausted as if he hadn’t slept for several nights, constantly yawning.

Ge Jin knelt on the ground, her body trembling.

Director Yan pointed to one of the Hu merchants: “These people can all testify that you tried to buy Heart-Rotting Grass. Now with solid evidence, you still try to deny it.”

Ge Jin’s face turned paper-white: “This servant did inquire about Heart-Rotting Grass, but when Tuo Tuo’er returned saying there wasn’t enough powder, I gave up the idea. Afterward, I never inquired about it again. Tuo Tuo’er can testify to this.”

Director Yan raised his voice: “Tuo Tuo’er can only prove you didn’t buy it that time. Whether you found other sources afterward, you know in your heart. Heart-rotting grass isn’t an ordinary poison—paying such a high price for it, dare you say you had no ill intentions? Coincidentally, Yao Huang died from Heart-Rotting Grass—how could there be such a coincidence in this world?”

“No, no, no!” Ge Jin shook her head frantically. “I bought this poison intending to end my own life, not to harm others.”

Lin Chengyou rubbed his brow: “Keep making up stories. Hope you can remain this stubborn when we get to the Court of Judicature.”

As the yamen runners tried to pull Ge Jin up, her face turned paper-white: “Young Master, please hear me out. After my disfigurement, I lost all hope and considered ending my life. But I heard that whether by hanging or drowning, one suffers greatly before death. I remembered some young masters mentioning a poison called Heart-Rotting Grass—they said after taking it, one dies without pain or sensation. I thought if I could steel myself to take it, I wouldn’t have to suffer in this world anymore. When buying the poison, I was determined to die, but when Tuo Tuo’er couldn’t get it, I thought perhaps it was heaven’s will. After all, those who harmed me hadn’t been punished—I couldn’t die without clarity. Later I realized, that being still young and able-bodied, living was better than seeking death. So afterward, I never inquired about Heart-Rotting Grass again.”

“If I remember correctly,” Lin Chengyou said, “after Yao Huang’s death, I repeatedly asked if anyone had purchased poison. When I asked you, you didn’t say a word. If you weren’t guilty, why keep silent?”

Ge Jin stammered: “Because—because this servant feared speaking would raise suspicion, after all—”

“After all, Yao Huang caused your disfigurement.” Lin Chengyou gave a derisive laugh. “Enough, save your words for the Court of Judicature. Take her away.”

Ge Jin’s voice rose like an awl: “Young Master, I am wrong! I never harmed anyone!”

The yamen runners dragged Ge Jin out, one on each side. Even after they passed through the main gate, her cries continued unabated.

Director Yan shook his head: “If she were truly innocent, why consider Heart-Rotting Grass? While plotting against Yao Huang and Qing Zhi, she pretended to be in the dark. That night she went to Wei Zi’s room to attack—she nearly fooled everyone.”

Perhaps the matter was too shocking, as the hall remained silent for a long time. Lin Chengyou yawned again: “Well, at least the truth has come out. Not a waste of my two days and nights without sleep. Now we just need to focus on dealing with the Second Demon. Eh, it’s getting late—why haven’t the monks from Dayin Temple arrived?”

Secretary Hong hurriedly said: “Oh, while Assessor Lin was busy interrogating the suspect, this humble official didn’t get to report—one of Dayin Temple’s ox carts broke down on the way, so now there aren’t enough. A monk came to ask whether to hire temporary carts or wait for Dayin Temple to send more.”

“Where are they? I’ll go take a look.”

Suddenly remembering something, he stopped his steps: “Oh right, Master He, please bring the account books. If we can subdue the Second Demon tonight, I’ll be leaving tomorrow. Let’s calculate how much we’ve spent on food and wine these past days while we have the chance.”

He Mingsheng was taken aback: “This humble one hasn’t even thanked Young Master for finding the killer yet—how could I dare ask for payment for wine? Young Master and the honored Daoists’ expenses should naturally be Caifeng House’s treat.”

Lin Chengyou smiled: “Bring them—I don’t have a habit of owing anyone for wine.”

He Mingsheng couldn’t hide his smile as he hesitantly brought the account books. Lin Chengyou opened them, glanced through, and smiled: “I see.”

He took a gold piece from his sleeve and handed it to He Mingsheng: “The extra can count toward future wine.”

After he left, the performers gradually recovered their composure. Complex emotions silently permeated the hall, stirring up ripples of small waves.

At first, there were just a few scattered conversations, but gradually the voices grew chaotic.

Wo Ji was nearly in tears: “What sin did I commit? Ge Jin was a great beauty I carefully selected. Not only did that wretch Yao Huang ruin her face, but now she—”

E Ji spoke in an extremely regretful tone: “Alas… Ge Jin, this child, how could she think such thoughts.”

Someone else said: “We can’t blame Ge Jin—having such beauty destroyed, who wouldn’t feel resentful?”

For a moment, some were sorrowful, others indignant, but without exception, everyone’s expressions had relaxed somewhat with the killer’s capture.

E Ji wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and turned to glance at Bao Zhu and Juan’er Li on the side. Bao Zhu was quietly observing Juan’er Li with a strange expression, lost in thought, while Juan’er Li stared blankly at the ground, seemingly unaware. E Ji jabbed Juan’er Li hard: “How long are you going to stay stupid!”

He Mingsheng ran to Director Yan, smiling as he asked a few questions, and after receiving permission, had servants bring tea and snacks from the kitchen.

Teng Yu’yi sat in a corner, sighing deeply at the scene: “It’s good we found out who it was. Just thinking the killer was in the house made me unable to sleep soundly at night.”

Only after speaking did she notice Huo Qiu’s strange expression. She asked curiously: “Huo Qiu, what’s wrong?”

Huo Qiu lowered his voice: “This servant feels something’s not right.”

Teng Yu’yi frowned slightly: “What is it?”

“The night Qing Zhi died, I saw that person.” Huo Qiu glanced at Juan’er Li in the distance.

“Juan’er Li?” Teng Yu’yi looked forward in surprise. “Where did you see her? The night Qing Zhi died?”

Her voice wasn’t soft, immediately drawing attention from those nearby.

Huo Qiu hurriedly looked around: “Young Miss, please speak more quietly.”

“What’s there to fear? The killer’s been caught anyway.” Teng Yu’yi asked curiously, “Tell me what you saw?”

Huo Qiu said softly: “Actually, it wasn’t much—just that after Qing Zhi left, Juan’er Li also appeared briefly in the corridor. I thought she was just passing by, so I didn’t think much of it afterward.”

Teng Yu’yi looked thoughtfully at Juan’er Li: “No wonder she’s seemed like a different person lately. Could she have seen something that night that frightened her?”

Butler Cheng’s eyes flickered: “Young Miss, should we tell Young Master Cheng about this?”

“No need to make trouble—after all, the killer’s been found—no, no, in case there’s more to it, better tell him.”

Huo Qiu nodded vigorously.

As they spoke, the sky grew darker, the orange sunset replaced by deep blue. The garden’s flowers and trees slowly became shrouded in shadow, the hall growing dimmer, and people’s faces becoming indistinct. He Mingsheng was arranging for lamps to be lit when suddenly, with a whoosh, a black shadow quickly passed through the garden’s flowers.

Bao Zhu screamed: “Ghost! Ghost! Ahhhhh!”

He Mingsheng, typically timid as a mouse, spoke with a trembling voice: “Don’t—don’t talk nonsense.”

As they stood uncertain and frightened, an eerie woman’s laugh drifted from outside. The sound was strange and high-pitched, like a broken erhu. The evening wind moved mysteriously, bringing a thick smell of blood. The bells on Teng Yu’yi’s wrist began jingling—the Mystic Sound Bells Lin Chengyou had given her.

People couldn’t stand it anymore, scattering in terror: “Run! Ghost! Ghost!”

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi drew their swords and leaped: “Not good. The corpse demon’s here.”

This announcement was like a thunderbolt, making people even more terrified. These days they had heard many rumors about the corpse demon—supposedly it dug out people’s hearts and livers, and meeting it meant certain death.

The five Daoists called urgently in the darkness: “Don’t panic! With us here, it can’t harm you.”

Jue Sheng and Yi Zhi shouted from outside: “We’ll lure it away. Five Elders, quickly take everyone to the back!”

“Alright!” The five Daoists drew their swords together. “Your Senior Brother will return soon anyway. We’ll go protect the array in the back garden—everyone follows us!”

In the chaos, Teng Yu’yi hurriedly called: “Juan’er Li! Juan’er Li!”

Juan’er Li responded vaguely.

“The corpse demon’s targeting us three. Now that Miss Ge Jin’s been sent to the Court of Judicature, only you and I remain. Quickly go to Miss Ge Jin’s room—Young Master set up an array outside her room. Just hide inside and you’ll be safe.”

Jian Tian heard this and quickly said: “Jian Le, escort Young Master Wang. Jian Xi, escort Juan’er Li. After settling them, hurry to the back garden to protect the array. With the corpse demon here, the Golden-Robed Young Master must be nearby. Everyone else listen—all go to the small Buddha hall! The corpse demon’s not targeting you—stay as far from those two as possible.”

Director Yan and Secretary Hong called loudly in the darkness: “Quick—quick, follow the five Daoists.”

Jian Xi found Juan’er Li by her voice and shouted: “Quickly follow this old Daoist!”

Jian Le also found Teng Yu’yi. Everyone barely made out directions as they ran chaotically toward the back.

Teng Yu’yi ran anxiously to Yi Cui Pavilion, found her position, opened the door, and darted inside.

The room was pitch black, and unfortunately, she couldn’t find any candles immediately. She sat panting by the window, using the moonlight to look at the Mystic Sound Bells on her wrist. Perhaps being far from the evil spirit, the bells finally stopped ringing.

Footsteps remained chaotic in the corridor. She heard Jian Xi say: “Juan’er Li, these talismans on the door were drawn by Young Master—they can hold off the corpse demon for a while. Stay well in the room, don’t open the door no matter what you hear.”

Teng Yu’yi’s heart pounded as she listened intently to the sounds outside. After an unknown time, the surroundings grew quiet. It seemed everyone had gone to the small Buddha hall. Distant commotion drifted from the garden’s direction—the chaos there making the corridor’s silence even more pronounced.

Having sat in darkness for so long, Teng Yu’yi’s senses became extraordinarily acute. Suddenly, rustling sounds came from the corridor. At first it seemed like wind blowing leaves, but listening carefully, it was someone’s footsteps.

***

That person had been crouching in a corner, only emerging silently after confirming no one was around. Picking the direction carefully, they walked forward cautiously. Being so careful made even this short distance create a light, lingering impression.

Reaching outside Ge Jin’s room, they surveyed the surroundings again before gathering internal energy to push open the door and slip inside.

They had thought if the person inside screamed, they would say fear had made them enter by mistake. But unexpectedly, the young woman by the window made no sound, just sitting hunched on the low couch.

This was perfect—no need to waste words. Everyone in the house had run to the garden; now was the ideal time to act. They say the corpse demon likes to dig out hearts—they could copy this. When Lin Chengyou and the others found her corpse, they would think the corpse demon had killed her.

They didn’t want to kill anymore, especially someone who bore them no grudge. But who told her to see them following Qing Zhi in the marketplace—that was evidence of their murdering Qing Zhi. Currently, her mind hadn’t recovered, but if she got better, she might tell Lin Chengyou. That boy was too difficult to deal with—if they confronted each other, nothing could be hidden.

Their palm was already charged with energy—they just needed to aim at the back and thrust forward to pierce through. But somehow, an intense feeling of guilt arose in their heart.

This was conscience troubling them, just like when they killed Qing Zhi and Yao Huang, they had suffered such torment.

They say evil arts shouldn’t be practiced regularly because they eventually corrupt one’s nature. Now they finally understood—knowing something was wrong, yet finding harmful acts increasingly easier to commit. Wanting to turn back but unable to. If Mother and Father knew… no, just thinking of them made their chest too painful to breathe. If there was justice in the world, how could Mother and Father meet such a fate? Being good people all their lives, only to end up at the bottom of the river.

These thoughts made the murderous intent in their chest surge. No time to think more—any later would raise suspicion. Being confined these past days had left no chance to act. Tonight the corpse demon’s arrival was heaven’s help. They leaned forward, suddenly grabbing for the young woman’s back. She still didn’t move or dodge but called out a name.

Three syllables, like a heavy hammer smashing into their face. In that flash of lightning-quick moment, a silver chain flew like a shooting star from outside the window, wrapping around their neck.

Simultaneously, someone leaped in through the window. That person’s left hand gripped the silver chain tight while their other foot kicked their solar plexus.

Their chest felt crushed. All this happened in the briefest moment—with their skills they could normally have dodged, but those three syllables left them unable to react in time. It was the most familiar address from their memories, called out time and again by their dearest ones, accompanied by the sound of oars at the ferry.

How could it be? Impossible! How did she know?

The young woman jumped up to hide behind the tall youth, showing only a pair of clever eyes: “It was you!”

Young Master Wang!

How could it be her? Where was Juan’er Li?

Lin Chengyou? He had been hiding outside the window all along.

Well well, this was all a trap! Despite being so careful, they had fallen into their hands.

More people rushed in from outside. Director Yan and the yamen runners held lamps, suddenly illuminating the room. Someone cried in shock: “It was you!”

Their neck was squeezed hard, leaving no room for thought. Lin Chengyou raised his hand to pull them up from the ground, laughing coldly: “Not in vain did we go to such trouble—you’ve finally shown your true face.”

Author’s Note: Legal Secretary: Had both investigative and judicial authority. In Chang’an, they were called “Legal Secretary Officers,” while in various prefectures they were known as “Judicial Secretary Officers.” Their main duty was trying cases (the Tang Dynasty had no distinction between criminal and civil cases). Their administrative superiors like county magistrates and prefectural officials generally didn’t directly investigate or try cases (different from Song Dynasty practice).

The famous Tang Dynasty official Di Renjie served as a “Judicial Secretary” after passing his imperial examination.