Shen Du took a sip of tea and chuckled lightly. “Manager Yang oversees the foremost gold house in Chang’an, yet you’re so personally involved that you know every detail of Liu Fu’s old affairs. How can I not admire that?”
His words carried blatant suspicion. Manager Yang’s body stiffened, and Zhu Yan, catching on, also looked at her warily.
Manager Yang forced a laugh. “Our gold house has always operated this way. We record details of every client who makes a deposit, regardless of their status. If we weren’t personally involved, wouldn’t that disappoint the Princess?”
A cold glint flashed in her eyes as she raised her voice, “Are you, Grand Secretary, doubting Bijiang Gold House?”
“Manager Yang doesn’t want to disappoint the Princess. As an official who serves the Emperor, I too cannot disappoint His Majesty,” Shen Du replied calmly.
“Grand Secretary needn’t use His Majesty as a shield.” Surprised by Shen Du’s bluntness in voicing his suspicions about the gold house, Manager Yang’s face instantly turned ashen. She straightened her back and said, “Bijiang Gold House is Princess Yong’an’s private property. I manage it at her behest, following her orders in all matters. If you suspect the gold house is involved in Liu Fu’s disappearance, aren’t you implying that the Princess is behind it?”
“The innocent have nothing to fear. If you insist on baselessly suspecting the Princess, why not report to His Majesty? When we face each other in the imperial court, I’ll be able to prove the Princess and the gold house’s innocence!”
“Someone come and see the guests out!” Manager Yang, seemingly furious, shed her earlier facade of cordiality.
Shen Du didn’t engage further. He set down his teacup, stood up, and walked straight out. His steps were brisk, the cloud and water pattern embroidered on the hem of his robe fluttering slightly with his movement, exuding an air of nobility and pride.
“The tea was excellent,” Zhu Yan said, draining her cup, the fragrance lingering on her lips. She smiled at Manager Yang before following Jing Lin to catch up with Shen Du.
As she watched them leave, Manager Yang’s face was cold.
“This Manager Yang is quite adept at shifting blame,” Zhu Yan remarked, looking back at the gold-lettered sign hanging above the eaves as they crossed the threshold.
Manager Yang had accused Shen Du of using the Empress as a shield, but she was the one truly hiding behind someone else.
Though she managed the gold house on Princess Yong’an’s behalf, it didn’t mean her words and actions always represented the Princess. Her earlier defense of her master was merely to silence Shen Du, seemingly confident that Princess Yong’an would back her no matter what.
For a servant, she seemed rather arrogant.
Zhu Yan wrote “Manager Yang” on a blank page in her notebook, circling it to indicate suspicion. She then heard Jing Lin sigh, “It seems we’ve hit another dead end with the male corpse. Should we visit Ximing Temple again tomorrow to look for other clues?”
Zhu Yan closed her notebook and tapped Jing Lin’s arm with her charcoal pencil. “Not necessarily. As Manager Yang said, Liu Fu wasn’t a wealthy man. If he made a living selling fake paintings and calligraphy, his profits would have been limited. How could he have saved so much money?”
“Did he suddenly come into a windfall?” Jing Lin stroked his chin. “Perhaps he won a large sum at a gambling house?”
“If he had a gambling habit, people would have mentioned it. But neither at Li’s Money House nor at the gold house just now did anyone mention such a thing,” Zhu Yan pondered as she walked. “I think, if it wasn’t a case of passing off inferior goods as superior or fake as genuine, then he must have had access to a large supply channel, allowing him to make small profits on many sales, accumulating money over time.”
Even Shen Du, walking ahead with his hands behind his back, slowed his pace to listen to Zhu Yan’s deductions.
“But where would there be a demand for so many fake paintings and calligraphy?” As Zhu Yan pondered this, she noticed several Local Constable officers in round-collared reddish-brown robes riding towards them from afar.
Seeing officials in uniform, one of the riders suddenly reined in his horse, looked back, and recognizing Shen Du and Zhu Yan, dismounted in shock. He rushed to Shen Du and knelt on one knee, saluting, “Greetings, Grand Secretary!”
His companions, who had already ridden ahead, hurriedly turned back.
“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” Zhu Yan quickly stepped forward to inquire.
The Local Constable officer, his brow furrowed, reported, “A servant from the Liang household came to report that their main gate had been splashed with chicken blood. We’re on our way to investigate.”
“The Liang household?” Zhu Yan couldn’t help but glance at Shen Du. Instinctively feeling something was amiss, she suggested, “Grand Secretary, shall we go and take a look?”
“Who did this, and is there any background to it?” Shen Du asked.
The officer replied, “We haven’t identified the culprit yet, but it seems someone with a longstanding grudge against the Liang family, accusing them of murder.”
At the entrance of the Liang residence, traces of chicken blood remained. On the black gate, the vivid color was jarring. The scrawled characters, written by hand, had seeped into the wood grain. Even after vigorous scrubbing, one could still make out the phrase “A life for a life, heaven’s justice” in eight large characters.
The steward was leading several servants in washing the gate when he heard hoofbeats. Looking up to see Shen Du and Zhu Yan at the forefront, he hurried to greet them. “It’s just some miscreant causing trouble. I didn’t expect it to trouble the Grand Secretary.”
The courtyard of the Liang residence, usually orderly, was now in disarray due to the blood-splashing incident. Servants and maids frequently passed by with water buckets heading to the front gate, while curious young maids gathered in small groups, trying to catch a glimpse of the commotion.
As the steward led Shen Du and Zhu Yan to the front hall, he occasionally barked, “What’s all this commotion? It’s undignified! Get back to work!”
The young maids shrank back at the reprimand, lowering their heads. A few bolder ones, attracted by Shen Du’s handsome features and commanding presence, couldn’t help but sneak glances.
“What terrible luck! This must be Rong Zhui’s doing. That ghost just won’t rest, how dare he! When our people return from Tongming House, I’ll make sure to interrogate that madam thoroughly.”
In the front hall, Madam Zheng wore a cherry-colored embroidered pleated skirt with a yellow-green brocade wide-sleeved robe. Her hair was styled in a low cloud bun, adorned with a yellow peony flower pinned at an angle. She slammed her fan on the table, her angry outburst causing the fine pearls hanging from her gold hairpin to jingle. The maids and servants surrounding her fell silent in fear.
Since Liang Chen’s incident, the first Madam had lost interest in household affairs, and the second Madam, Wei, had been in a constant state of confusion. Although the two branches of the family had separated, Madam Zheng was now consulted on all matters, big and small, both inside and outside the Liang household. Seated in the center chair, she had already assumed the air of the household’s matriarch.
“Madam, please calm yourself. I don’t believe this is Rong Zhui’s doing,” Zhu Yan said as she entered the front hall.
Seeing Shen Du and Zhu Yan enter, Madam Zheng was startled. She quickly composed herself, softening her expression as she stood up. “I was unaware of your arrival. Please forgive me for not welcoming the Grand Secretary and Madam Shen properly.”
She offered seats to the two, and Shen Du, without further ado, took the seat of honor.