Yidu’s prefectural office was spacious.

The compound was the size of an entire ward, encompassing several layers of gates and courtyards, covered walkways, the main hall, the inner hall, the inner reception room, the flower reception room, the study, the jail, the corpse examination hall, the document hall, the inner compound — which served as the living quarters for the Yidu Prefect — the clerks’ quarters, the stable and storerooms, the guesthouse for non-officials, the kitchen, the communal dining hall, and any number of other courtyards, as well as a pavilion, a pond, a garden, and most absurdly of all, a cuju field. The easy living in Yidu was plain to see.

Hua Yitang, Yidu’s newly appointed Judicial Affairs Advisor, paid his first visit to the prefectural office — and his first stop was not the main hall, nor the meeting room, but the grimly forbidding corpse examination hall.

Fang Ke had the constables carry the body inside, shut the great doors, and set to work. The crate containing the body was left outside.

Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan circled the crate, one going clockwise and the other counterclockwise, while Prefect Chi dared not leave but had nowhere to sit, and stood there until his face turned white.

Hua Yitang rapped the edge of the crate with his fan handle: tap, tap, tap. “The material is ordinary poplar. Given these dimensions, it would not be used in an ordinary household — it looks like the kind of specialized crate cloth merchants use to transport bolts of fabric.”

Ling Zhiyan put on a coarse cloth glove and ran his index and middle fingers slowly along the inner walls, inner seams, and all four corners. “The joints have been sealed with wax — it would make the crate waterproof.”

Jin Ruo: “The workers along Huanhua Creek say this crate floated down from upstream. It drifted all the way to the entrance of the Hua Family’s papermaking mill and got caught on something. The workers thought it strange, pulled it out, and that’s when they found a corpse inside.”

Lin Sui’an hugged Qian Jing and frowned. “So the crate was specially treated to become a small, waterproof, moisture-proof vessel. That doesn’t add up.”

Prefect Chi looked baffled: “Why — why does it not add up?”

Hua Yitang straightened up and snapped his fan open with a sharp crack, slowly beginning to wave it. “Ordinarily, after committing a murder, a killer either hides the body or destroys it to eliminate the evidence. But this killer placed the body inside a dry wooden crate and sent it down to Huanhua Creek, which is always crowded with people — as if deliberately intending for the body to be found.”

Ling Zhiyan sighed and also rose to his feet. “The inside of the crate was handled very cleanly — nothing in the way of useful evidence.” He removed his gloves. “Prefect Chi, regarding the Peach Blossom Killer case—”

Prefect Chi waved his hands repeatedly. “That is absolutely impossible — it cannot be the Peach Blossom Killer. The Peach Blossom Killer was sentenced to decapitation four years ago. I personally supervised the execution, witnessed by the entire city. The one who captured the Peach Blossom Killer was Advisor Wu — Advisor Wu, please explain the full details of this case to Judicial Supervisor Ling.”

Oh? Unexpectedly, this Advisor Wu actually had some genuine ability.

Lin Sui’an was mildly surprised, and glanced sideways at him.

Wu Zhengqing appeared not to hear Prefect Chi at all. He was staring fixedly at the crate that had held the body, his face ashen, his expression dazed, his fingers twitching intermittently.

Lin Sui’an thought with some alarm — had she perhaps been too forceful just now and accidentally left him disabled? No, wait — he had only started acting strangely after seeing the dead woman’s face. Could it be that he knew the deceased? Good heavens, surely it couldn’t be that Wu Zhengqing was the killer himself?

Not only Lin Sui’an had noticed Wu Zhengqing’s odd behavior — Ling Zhiyan and Hua Yitang had too.

Ling Zhiyan frowned. “Advisor Wu, would you describe the Peach Blossom Killer case? Advisor Wu!”

Wu Zhengqing snapped out of it with a start, and cupped his fists. “The Peach Blossom Killer’s real name was Tu Yan, forty-three years of age, a butcher. His wife ran off with another man, which left him filled with hatred for women, and he proceeded to stalk and murder several women. When his home was searched, the murder weapon — an axe — and the peach blossom branding iron were found. The evidence was conclusive, and he confessed to everything himself.”

Prefect Chi: “That’s right, that’s right. This Tu Yan had spent years slaughtering pigs and animals, and had a ferocious temper. When he was being arrested, he injured several of our clerks. It was only thanks to Advisor Wu’s decisive action that he was finally subdued. Advisor Wu rendered outstanding service in cracking this case.”

Wu Zhengqing tugged at the corner of his mouth, apparently attempting a smile. “I was only doing my duty.”

Hua Yitang let out a soft “oh,” tapping his fan against his palm as he paced over to stand across from Advisor Wu, then out of nowhere dropped a question: “Does Advisor Wu recognize the deceased woman in the crate?”

Wu Zhengqing’s head snapped up, his eyes going wide. “What grounds does Military Advisor Hua have for saying that?! I have never seen this woman before!”

“Ah — I simply noticed Advisor Wu seemed rather distracted, and was curious for a moment — I asked on a whim.” Hua Yitang widened his eyes in a startled expression, fan patting his chest. “There was no need to shout so loudly — you frightened me half to death.”

Wu Zhengqing composed himself. “I was only saddened by the pitiful state of the woman’s death. Nothing more.”

Hua Yitang nodded repeatedly. “Advisor Wu truly has the iron hand and the compassionate heart.”

Lin Sui’an and Jin Ruo exchanged a glance.

Lin Sui’an: This Wu Zhengqing is definitely hiding something.

Jin Ruo: Shifu, rest assured — your disciple will dig until there is nothing left to find.

The doors of the corpse examination hall swung open. Fang Ke emerged carrying with him the scent of atractylodes and aged vinegar, and tossed a completed examination form to Hua Yitang. Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan scanned it in a single pass and then handed it to Prefect Chi.

“The groove across the deceased’s neck is horizontal, two fingers in width, without pattern. The groove overlaps at the back of the neck. The color is dark purple-red. The hands hang loosely at the sides. The tongue does not protrude and was not pressed against the teeth. She was strangled from behind with a cord wrapped around the neck. The stomach still contains undigested food, suggesting death occurred approximately one hour after a meal. Combined with the degree of rigor mortis, the estimated time of death is between the you-hour and the xu-hour of last night. The back, buttocks, and backs of the calves show fixed lividity, while neither side of the body shows lividity, indicating the body lay flat for at least three hours after death before the lower legs were folded and the body placed in the crate.”

“The brand on the inner right thigh was applied after death, using what appears to have been a heated peach-blossom shaped iron. The brand is one cun in diameter, with five petals,” Fang Ke produced another sheet of paper, “and here is a rubbing of the peach blossom brand.”

The rubbing Fang Ke had made was detailed — petals and stamens alike depicted, making it look like a piece of exquisite jewelry.

Fang Ke: “The deceased’s palms and fingernails are very clean. The nails are of some length and have not been deliberately trimmed.”

“That is somewhat unusual,” said Ling Zhiyan. “Victims who are strangled typically struggle violently — sometimes grabbing the killer’s hair, leaving strangulation marks in the palms, and often with the killer’s skin cells under the fingernails.”

Hua Yitang: “So the deceased did not struggle particularly before death? Were there any marks on the hands or feet from being bound?”

“Not only bound marks, but whip marks as well. But these are old wounds.” Fang Ke said. “Based on the coloring and the degree of subcutaneous bruising, I estimate them to be about a month old. Additionally, the deceased’s left shoulder blade and collarbone had been fractured at some point previously. I surmise the deceased had been subjected to abuse before her death.”

Everyone exchanged glances, and the mood grew heavier.

“There is one more thing that is very strange,” Fang Ke said, pausing briefly. “The deceased’s body weight was thirty percent below that of an average woman — she was extremely thin.”

Lin Sui’an: “Could she have been held captive and abused for an extended period, starved?”

Fang Ke shook his head. “Her stomach has not atrophied — her diet appears to have been normal. The skin on her thighs and upper arms is slightly loose, which is inconsistent with her age. It is likely the result of sudden, rapid weight loss.”

As he spoke, Fang Ke produced a small white porcelain jar from his sleeve, handling it with extraordinary tenderness. Everyone in the room instantly stepped back several paces, keeping their distance.

Prefect Chi asked curiously: “What is that?”

Fang Ke raised an eyelid and curved his mouth. “A portion of the deceased’s heart. I’ve also kept the stomach fluid, the large intestine, the small intestine, a lung lobe, and residual urine from the bladder — I’ll examine those more carefully shortly.”

Prefect Chi’s face turned green. Advisor Wu’s face turned gray. Both men felt their throats convulse, nearly losing their meals.

“The cause and time of death are essentially confirmed. But as for the deceased’s identity—” Hua Yitang looked at Prefect Chi.

Prefect Chi pinched his nose. “Advisor Wu, I asked you to have it looked into — any results?”

Wu Zhengqing shook his head. “I must report that there are none as yet, Prefect. We may need to issue an official notice and post a likeness drawing to solicit identification.”

“Your people in the government office take forever about everything,” Jin Ruo said impatiently. “I’ve already had the deceased’s portrait sent out — calculating the time, word should have arrived by now.”

Wu Zhengqing was startled. “What?!”

Sure enough, no sooner had Jin Ruo finished speaking than a constable came to report that a traveling peddler had delivered a letter outside the compound, addressed by name to Jin Ruo.

The envelope was unremarkable, blank on the front, the back bearing neat, fine characters reading “ten thousand waters, a thousand mountains” — evidently from the Pure Gate. Lin Sui’an was delighted; she had not expected the Yidu branch to prove useful so quickly.

The envelope contained only a single sheet of paper.

【Deceased’s name: Lian Xiaoshuang. Age: twenty-three. Occupation: embroiderer. Residence: Jinxi Ward, Inner City District, Ma Chuan Street, No. 451.】

Prefect Chi exclaimed admiringly: “The Pure Gate truly earns its reputation — the speed of their information is remarkable!”

Wu Zhengqing’s expression shifted. Sweat even began to bead at his temples.

Hua Yitang smiled pleasantly and bowed. “As I am new to Yidu and unfamiliar with the streets, might Prefect Chi allow Advisor Wu to accompany me to investigate the case? It would be good to have someone to help guide the way.”

Prefect Chi naturally agreed without hesitation. Wu Zhengqing averted his eyes from Hua Yitang’s gaze, the vein at his temple jumping erratically. “I am naturally at your disposal.”

Wu Zhengqing’s behavior was simply too suspicious. Lin Sui’an inwardly let out a gleeful whoop, thinking that with any luck she might be spectacularly fortunate today — catching the killer and closing the case all in one evening, no late-night overtime required.

Two rivers ran outside Yidu City — Qingyuan to the north, and Jian River to the south. Within the city, too, there were two rivers — Yu River to the north, Jin River to the south. Yu River was a tributary of Qingyuan; Jin River was a tributary of Jian River; and Huanhua Creek was in turn a tributary of Jin River.

Yu River and Jin River divided Yidu into three major zones: north, center, and south. Of these, the Jin River basin was the most prosperous, flowing successively through Taibai Ward of Huanhua Creek, Tianqing Ward, the Inner City District, the two southern wards of the walled official precinct, the Southern Fifth District, the Southern Fourth District, and the Great Mercy Temple, before finally looping out through the Small East Gate to join the main course of Jian River.

The Inner City District comprised twelve wards and was the most densely populated area of Yidu. Yidu’s largest market — the West Market — sat along Jin River, facing Huanhua Creek across the water.

The deceased Lian Xiaoshuang’s residence in Jinxi Ward was located at the southwestern corner of the eastern city district, adjacent to the West Market. Ma Chuan Street, where she lived, was separated from the West Market by only a low ward wall, and all along the route one could see merchants who had simply knocked open the ward wall to create a connecting passage — those with more refinement had installed a door, while the less particular had simply left the opening exposed.

Constables had already cordoned off Lian Xiaoshuang’s residence well in advance. The surrounding neighbors had retreated to a respectful distance and were murmuring among themselves. When Hua Yitang stepped down from the carriage, a considerable commotion erupted from the crowd — no doubt his legendary feat of scattering gold at Ten Thousand Li Bridge to hold audience with his great-grandchildren had become common knowledge throughout the city.

The residence was small. At a glance, it had only one main room, one side room, and a kitchen.

Though small, it was quite tasteful. In the open space before the kitchen grew fragrant herbs, their delicate small leaves translucent in the evening light, releasing a heart-soothing fragrance. Lin Sui’an glanced over and noticed that the shape of these herbs bore a striking resemblance to modern-day peppermint.

Wu Zhengqing posted constables at the gate and remained outside himself, refusing on any account to enter, on the grounds that he was the military affairs advisor and should not overstep his bounds. Hua Yitang made no effort to compel him, and left him to it.

The main room was bright and clean, orderly. Jin Ruo did a quick circuit, shook his head to indicate no signs of a struggle, then turned and went to the side room with Ling Zhiyan.

Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an entered the main room and searched separately.

Though called the main room, it was not large. Opposite the door stood a three-panel crabapple folding screen, finely embroidered and brightly colored. To the right of the screen was a small tea area — a low tea table, cushions, a small armrest — all very clean. A wind furnace, tea kettle, tea grinder, tea sieve, water ladle, and teacups were arranged neatly in the shelf cabinet against the wall.

To the left was the bedroom. The bed was hung with a pale green canopy. Beside the bed sat a narrow wardrobe, with clothes folded neatly inside. Before the window stood a dressing table. Lin Sui’an walked around once, then pulled her robe back and sat before the table, methodically opening the cosmetics boxes and drawers and inspecting each in turn. Lian Xiaoshuang’s jewelry was sparse — only three silver hairpins and two pairs of silver earrings. The lip rouge, blush, and eyebrow pencil were all nearly used up. There were no flower decorations. In the innermost part of a drawer, she found a long lacquered box in black and red — empty. From the impression left inside, it appeared something had once been kept there: a golden step-hairpin, by the shape of the mark.

Suddenly, Lin Sui’an heard a clear tinkling of bells. She looked up — the window framed a perfect view of Zhang Yi Tower. The sound was not from Zhang Yi Tower’s silver bells, but from a copper wind chime hanging outside the window. The outer shell of the wind chime had rusted, and from it dangled a dark green paper tag bearing writing that had long since faded to illegibility.

The tag swayed in the breeze. The bell rang softly. The shadow of the window lattice fell across her face, with a still and serene beauty.

Lin Sui’an suddenly felt certain that Lian Xiaoshuang had loved sitting here — feeling the breeze, listening to the wind chime, gazing at the distant sky and Zhang Yi Tower.

Hua Yitang found a yellow paper parcel tucked in a hidden compartment of the wardrobe — it was used medicinal dregs. He wrinkled his nose, sniffed it, then wrapped it back up and pocketed it.

Nothing else of note.

The two of them went to the side room, only to find Ling Zhiyan and Jin Ruo still standing at the door, wrestling with the copper lock.

Jin Ruo: “Judicial Supervisor Ling, do you have to be such a stickler? The owner is dead — just break it open.”

Ling Zhiyan: “We cannot. Forcing the lock carelessly could destroy evidence. Someone go and fetch a locksmith—”

“Move aside.” Hua Yitang poked Ling Zhiyan out of the way with his fan, squeezed to the front, drew the jade pin from his own hair, rolled his fingers, and produced a slim copper needle. Left hand holding the lock, right hand holding the needle, he fiddled and pried with a series of deft clicks and twists, and with a final clunk — the lock opened.

Ling Zhiyan and Jin Ruo stared blankly, their expressions toward Hua Yitang instantly becoming rather different.

Lin Sui’an: “……”

She had known it. This man was capable of opening far more than just Hua Family locks.

Hua Yitang replaced his hairpin. “What? Struck dumb by my supernaturally skillful craftsmanship?”

Ling Zhiyan sighed. “It is fortunate that the Hua Family is wealthy enough to rival a nation — otherwise—”

“Otherwise you’d be calling him another Yun Zhong Yue,” Jin Ruo quipped.

Hua Yitang scoffed and pushed open the door. “How could mere Yun Zhong Yue compare with me? I, Hua Fourth Young Master, even if I were to turn to thievery, would be a thief above the clouds — Wah!”

None of them could have expected that this side room was an embroidery chamber. Before the window stood a large embroidery frame, upon which lay a half-finished crabapple flower — in coloring and needlework, it matched the screen in the main room, clearly made by the same hands.

Before the embroidery frame sat a low couch, covered with a dark green three-layered cushion, worn hollow in the center from long use. To the left of the frame hung layer upon layer of embroidered pieces, swaying in the breeze like a cascade — almost all of them crabapple flowers.

Against the innermost wall stood two large black lacquered crates side by side — four chi wide, roughly half a person’s length — identical in every way to the crate in which Lian Xiaoshuang’s body had been found.

Hua Yitang immediately cautioned everyone not to enter. He produced a small traveling inkstone set from his person and rapidly sketched the positions of every item in the room. Jin Ruo pulled on shoe covers and tiptoed inside, making a circuit, before crouching behind the low couch. He bent low and nearly pressed his face to the floor, shutting one eye and peering with the other for a long moment, then let out a soft click of his tongue.

“Lian Xiaoshuang was strangled here.”

Interlude

Fang Ke in the corpse examination hall stroked his row of small porcelain jars and let out a soft, eerie laugh: Yidu truly is a place of good fortune — a fascinating corpse delivered to my door on the very first day.