Zhen Niang knew this account book was trouble.
Recalling what Luo Wenqian had told her about Huang Lang’s death and Wei Baiwan’s involvement, things became clearer. Obviously, this book had been stolen by Wei Baiwan’s concubine, who must have given it to Huang Lang, and it eventually ended up with Ge Qiu, who then passed it to Li Zhengping.
Tragically, the book’s provenance only seemed to further confirm Ge Qiu and Li Zhengping’s involvement in Huang Lang’s murder.
Just then, Zhen Niang turned to the last page of the account book.
“Ge Qiu brought this book to me. When she found Huang Lang, he was already dead, and this book was lying to the side. We originally planned to report it, but this book implicates too many people. Having seen it, we would become convenient scapegoats for silencing – considering Ge Qiu’s grievances with Huang Lang – (even if we hadn’t seen it, they would do this anyway as a precaution), and the entire Li family’s Mo Manor would be dragged down with us.
So I simply hid it and insisted we knew nothing about Huang Lang’s death. After all, everyone’s night soil buckets are placed at the side door, while Ge Da was found dead at the main door, with more than ten steps between them. It was the hour of the Tiger, pitch dark, and when Ge Qiu went to empty the night soil, she couldn’t see in the darkness – it was perfectly normal that she didn’t see Huang Lang’s body. This way, others wouldn’t suspect us. Everything seemed fine until Madam Cao started making wild accusations and implicated Ge Qiu. Once Ge Qiu was implicated, I knew I wouldn’t be spared either, so I’m writing this letter.
When you return, if you can understand my hint to Madam Ma and find this account book, you’ll understand everything. Of course, you might not understand the hint, and whether you find this book or not doesn’t matter – perhaps it being burned on the stove wouldn’t be such a bad outcome. In any case, neither Ge Qiu nor I will ever admit to anything. This way, they can’t be certain whether we have the book or not. As long as they can’t get their hands on it, Ge Qiu and I might suffer some hardship, but our lives won’t be in danger. This seems the best outcome for Mo Manor as well. Time is short, so I’ll end here. Everything depends on fate now. I’m sorry for causing trouble for the workshop.”
This was the letter Li Zhengping had tucked into the final page of the account book, clearly written shortly before the yamen officers arrived. Though the handwriting was hurried, it explained everything clearly.
After reading the letter, Zhen Niang sighed deeply.
She had underestimated Brother Zhengping before. This letter showed he could see situations clearly, and with his letter, Zhen Niang knew what she needed to do.
Make complex things simple.
From when Huang Lang left Wei Manor until he reached home, there was a gap of time. Whether Huang Lang had moved the account book during this time was unknown. Then came his murder – clearly, whoever killed him likely obtained the book.
But whether Huang Lang was killed by Ge Qiu and Li Zhengping remained questionable. With the case unsolved, it was impossible to know for certain who had the book. Even if the case were solved, the book’s whereabouts would still be uncertain.
Therefore, Zhen Niang’s only option was to act as if the book didn’t exist and maintain stability amid change.
However, this account book was truly shocking, its implications staggering. Thinking of the family of three who had taken rat poison on New Year’s Eve, Zhen Niang felt uncomfortable, but for her family’s safety and development, she couldn’t dwell on these matters. Perhaps in a few years, she could find a way to get it to Hai Rui. While she felt Hai Rui was too extreme in his treatment of the wealthy and powerful, sometimes his stubborn, single-minded approach could indeed bring justice to the common people – his nickname “Hai the Just” wasn’t earned for nothing.
With this decided, Zhen Niang would see how things developed. As for whether the account book could be preserved until Hai Rui came to Yantian, that remained uncertain. She would have to take things one step at a time.
Then Zhen Niang carefully hid the account book.
Though this was her plan, Zhen Niang now had a splitting headache, feeling the enormous pressure. In her frustration, she couldn’t help but blame Li Zhengping for creating trouble out of nothing.
Fortunately, her uncle wasn’t implicated – at least his name wasn’t in the account book.
Still, Zhen Niang felt uneasy. She needed to consult her uncle about Li Zhengping’s situation anyway, so she could ask him about last year’s silk business.
Speak of the devil.
“Zhen Niang, what are you doing in there? Your First Aunt and Uncle are here.” Just then, her father’s voice came from outside.
“Oh, I’m warming the furnace, I’ll be right out.” Zhen Niang quickly responded. With the fire still flickering in the stove, she opened the door to find Han Yigui and First Aunt standing with her father.
“Zhen Niang, we heard about Zhengping’s situation. Zhengping isn’t the type to kill someone. I have people looking into the details, don’t worry,” Han Yigui said straightforwardly.
“This Li Zhengping, who knows what he’s up to? He could have stayed in Huizhou, but no, he had to come to Nanjing and get mixed up with Ge Qiu. Now look what’s happened – he’s dug his own grave. If you can’t handle something, just leave it alone. If he dies, it’s his own doing,” Han Li said unhappily from the side. Despite her words, the worry in her expression showed she was concerned for Li Zhengping.
“What kind of talk is that? When our people are in trouble and we don’t help, what will others think? Besides, Ge Qiu fell on hard times, and Zhengping helping her shows his righteousness,” Uncle Han glared at Han Li.
Han Li pursed her lips.
“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Aunt and Uncle,” Zhen Niang nodded, having a servant bring tea.
“By the way, Uncle, I heard Wei Baiwan hosted a dinner for silk merchants on the fourth. Did you attend?” Zhen Niang asked. If her uncle had attended, he might be somehow connected to this silk case.
“Your uncle’s not in the silk business anymore, so he wouldn’t have gone,” Han Li said, still sounding pained.
“What happened?” Zhen Niang asked curiously.
“The silk business is too deep and murky. I only did it for one season last year, then went back to my old trade-in mountain goods,” Han Yigui said calmly, though still harboring some resentment. Last year, the Silk Manufacturing Office first implemented a “rice to mulberry” conversion policy, causing chaos in land prices. After that failed, they colluded with local officials to secretly link mulberry cultivation and silkworm raising with taxation, ultimately causing cocoon prices to plummet. Then they conspired with silk merchants to hoard goods, causing silk prices to soar. Many people had converted their land to growing mulberries and raising silkworms, neglecting grain crops, which led to rising grain prices and hurt many common people.
Seeing this had made him weary of the silk industry, so after one season, he withdrew and focused on his original business. He hadn’t told Zhen Niang these details before, but now that she asked, he explained.
“Yes, the silk industry is quite chaotic now. It’s good that you withdrew early, Uncle,” Zhen Niang nodded.
“By the way, when you asked about Wei Baiwan’s dinner on the fourth, were you trying to find out if Huang Lang’s death was connected to Wei Baiwan’s beaten concubine?” Han Yigui asked seriously.
“Yes, someone mentioned it to me earlier,” Zhen Niang nodded.
“Let me tell you, don’t go asking about who was involved in Huang Lang’s death. It’s probably not simple, and asking too many questions will bring trouble,” Han Yigui said gravely.
Zhen Niang sighed. Her uncle had been in Nanjing’s silk trade for years, and though he didn’t know about the account book, he was sensitive enough to sense there was more to the story.
“Yes, Zhen Niang, listen to your uncle on this. He won’t steer you wrong,” Li Jingfu added. He had already talked with his elder sister and brother-in-law and knew many things in Nanjing were complicated.
“Yes, I understand,” Zhen Niang nodded.
After discussing Li Zhengping’s situation a bit more, the Han couple took their leave.
The next few days were surprisingly quiet. Although Li Zhengping had been arrested, because no murder weapon was found and both suspects steadfastly denied involvement, the case remained stalled. Various sources reported that the yamen was still investigating, while Ge Qiu and Li Zhengping remained in custody. Although Ge Qiu’s testimony completely distanced her from Huang Lang’s death, the fact remained that she had sought out Li Zhengping that morning and left with him. They explained that Ge Qiu had come to borrow money and Li Zhengping had escorted her away, but these were just their words without corroborating evidence, so suspicion remained.
Thus the whole situation had reached an impasse.
“This can’t go on,” Wei Baiwan hadn’t slept well since that night of the fourth. Pressure on the yamen had yielded no results, and he couldn’t reveal the matter of the account book. He had created this book to protect his own life – merchants cooperating with officials was like seeking the tiger’s skin, but it was a necessary evil to avoid being made a scapegoat by the Manufacturing Office’s officials if something went wrong. He never expected to lose the book, and if those officials found out, he would be the first to suffer.
“I’ve never seen anyone withstand torture like this. Maybe Ge Qiu and Li Zhengping haven’t seen the account book. Should we try something else?” In Wei Baiwan’s study, his son Wei Shuheng said to his father. Though things seemed calm outside these past few days, Ge Qiu and Li Zhengping weren’t having an easy time in prison.
“No, I believe they most likely have the book,” Wei Baiwan said, narrowing his eyes.
“Why?” Wei Shuheng asked.
“First, their testimonies match too perfectly, as if they coordinated beforehand. Second, as you said, no one has ever withstood torture like this. Usually, under such severe torture, every one confesses. The fact that they’re enduring it means they believe confession means death while enduring torture gives them a chance to live. Only people who have seen the account book would think this way,” Wei Baiwan said through gritted teeth.
“Ah, you’re right,” Wei Shuheng nodded, having never considered this angle.
“I’ll go to the yamen again and question them, have them tortured more. They must confess eventually,” Wei Shuheng said.
“More torture won’t work. Leave this matter alone – I’ll handle it,” Wei Baiwan said thoughtfully. He felt it was time to have a good talk with that Li family girl.