“Master of the house!”

“Ahh, so much blood!”

“The master has been murdered!”

“Lin Niangzi killed the master!”

Screams erupted in a clamor. Lin Sui’an stood blankly watching as Meng Man stumbled into the room and dropped to his knees beside Luo Shichuan’s body, howling with grief. The servants collapsed in a heap outside, too terrified to move; two of them appeared to have wet themselves. The man in the black robe stood in the doorway, scrutinizing the room with alertness. His face was angular and sharp, adorned with a neatly trimmed mountain-shaped beard, a headband across his brow. Then he fixed his gaze on Lin Sui’an, his eyes fierce as a predatory beast — the kind of stare reserved for the most dangerous of criminals.

This was no joke.

Lin Sui’an pinched herself hard on the thigh. The sharp external pain rebooted her stalled mind. She shouted: “Nobody come in! Preserve the scene! Go report to the authorities!”

Sudden silence fell. The servants stood gaping. Meng Man looked up, his face drowned in tears. The man in the black robe’s ferocity gave way to astonishment.

Lin Sui’an dug her fingernails into her wrists inside her sleeves and forced herself to stay calm. In a steady voice she said, “I am staying right here. I will not flee. Go report to the authorities — now!”

Everyone was still frozen.

“Go!” Lin Sui’an barked.

Meng Man jolted into action and bellowed, “Report to the authorities!”

The servants outside finally screamed and ran off.

Meng Man turned and looked at Lin Sui’an, eyes bloodshot, both fists clenched, his whole body trembling faintly. “You…”

“Stay where you are — don’t move. You’ve already disturbed the scene; it may affect the investigation.” Lin Sui’an’s words came rapid-fire. “Last night Master Luo invited me to moon-view. Unexpectedly I was knocked unconscious by someone. When I woke this morning and found I was locked inside the room, Master Luo—” She paused. “When I saw him, he was already dead.”

Meng Man’s shoulders caved inward; he slumped to the floor.

Lin Sui’an rapidly sorted through the clues:

The moment the lamp went out was almost certainly when Luo Shichuan had been murdered — but there had been no cry for help at the time. What she had heard through the door had been suppressed breathing; in hindsight, it had likely been the murderer, not Luo Shichuan. The person who knocked her unconscious must have been the killer.

No signs of struggle in the room meant Luo Shichuan had been caught completely off-guard. Did Luo Shichuan know the killer? No — there was another possibility: the killer had cleaned up the scene after committing the murder. Without luminol reagent— Lin Sui’an knocked her own head. She couldn’t use modern investigative methods here. Why had the killer knocked her unconscious rather than killing her too? Had the killer assumed she had seen their face? If so, why leave her alive at the scene of the crime rather than silencing her? To frame her and provide themselves a cover?

Lin Sui’an shook her head hard, forcing herself out of these tangled thoughts, and looked around once more.

Right now the most important thing was to clear herself of the murder charge.

The evidence currently in her favor consisted of two points: she had no blood on her, and she had no motive to kill Luo Shichuan. But both pieces of evidence were too thin — they simply wouldn’t hold up. Her only real option was to break through the most damning evidence against her: the locked room.

She could not touch anything in the room right now; doing so would almost certainly be used to accuse her of destroying evidence. The best approach was to wait for the authorities to examine the scene first, then act. Especially regarding the body — Lin Sui’an was deeply puzzled by the position and posture. How long had he been dead? The fatal wound — presumably in the chest. What weapon was used? Why was there no weapon at the scene?

Please, whoever serves as the coroner here — please be competent, Lin Sui’an prayed silently.

“A’Ye—!!” A sharp cry drew closer from a distance, and Luo Kou came sprinting into view; before the servants at the door even had a chance to stop her, she had already flung herself upon Luo Shichuan’s body, her trembling hands touching his cheeks, his neck, his chest. Her palms came away soaked in fresh blood. She let out a piercing wail. “Ahhhh!!”

Meng Man rushed over and gripped her shoulders, pulling her close. Luo Kou’s eyes were bulging. “What happened? What happened?!”

Meng Man’s face was a mess of snot and tears. “Someone killed the master!”

“Who? Who did this?!” Luo Kou screamed, looking frantically about. Then she saw Lin Sui’an, and grabbed Meng Man’s lapels with both hands — like a drowning person clutching a piece of driftwood. “Why is Lin-jiejie here? Did she kill A’Ye?!”

Meng Man closed his eyes, tears streaming. “When I arrived, the master was already dead. The door was bolted from the inside — only Lin Niangzi was in the room with him. I — I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“It wasn’t me!” Lin Sui’an said with iron certainty. “The authorities will investigate, and my innocence will be established!”

The mountain-bearded man in the doorway let out a soft laugh — a sound tinged with mockery.

Lin Sui’an ignored him and fixed her gaze on the tea table. The variety and style of tea implements here were extremely eclectic — besides the common teapot, tea bowls, and tea trays, there was a small stove, and something that looked like a grinder, a small wooden box with a drawer, and other items. She had watched Luo Shichuan use them before; though the process had been complex and she hadn’t really retained much, for some reason she now had a vague sense that something was wrong here.

The authorities finally arrived at a leisurely pace. The county adjutant leading them wore a pale blue official robe, a carved-stone belt at his waist, a floppy official cap on his head. He was thirty or so, with a flat face, large eyes, and a wide nose. Behind him came six strapping men in black robes and black boots with cloth bound around their heads, each with a fierce expression and an iron baton at their waist.

The servant who had reported the case had apparently briefed them on the basics en route. The adjutant paused in the doorway to take a rough look at the scene inside, had his subordinates pull Meng Man and Luo Kou out, swept his gaze across Lin Sui’an, picked up the broken door bolt from the floor, and asked: “The door was bolted shut when it was broken open?”

Meng Man wiped his tears. “Yes.”

“Who broke it open?”

“I did.” The mountain-beard stepped forward.

The adjutant glanced at the mountain-beard. “Are you Luo family?”

“Mu Zhong,” the mountain-beard said, cupping his hands. “I belong to the Mu family merchant convoy.”

The adjutant’s expression shifted immediately; he bent forward in a deferential bow and plastered on an ingratiating smile. “Ah — so this is the Mu convoy’s sixth escort captain! What an honor to meet you in person. I am Zhu Dachang, judicial adjutant of Nanpu County. These are the constables under my command.”

The six black-robed men immediately dropped their fierce airs and bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Sixth Captain.”

Mu Zhong: “The gentlemen are too kind — I am a mere merchant.”

Zhu Dachang: “Master Mu, with your wide experience, how do you see this situation?”

“All doors and windows are sealed. There were only two people inside — the deceased and her.” Mu Zhong glanced at Lin Sui’an.

Just that one glance. Lin Sui’an felt her hairs rise.

A very bad feeling.

Sure enough — Zhu Dachang immediately grasped the implication and pointed at Lin Sui’an. “Seize this criminal—”

“Seize your granddad!” Lin Sui’an flew forward and was in front of Zhu Dachang in an instant, one hand closing around his throat. Frankly even Lin Sui’an hadn’t anticipated her own speed. The constables were even more shocked — not a single one reacted in time. The first to respond was actually Mu Zhong, who hurled a punch at Lin Sui’an; the fist wind grazed her brow bone. Lin Sui’an tilted her head slightly, deflected Mu Zhong’s arm with her left forearm — Mu Zhong grunted and stepped back half a pace — and in that half-pace, Lin Sui’an hauled Zhu Dachang backward and retreated into the room with him at terrifying speed.

The constables raged and drew their iron batons, advancing toward the room. Lin Sui’an adjusted her grip one notch; Zhu Dachang’s face went iron-gray, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

“One step closer and he dies!” Lin Sui’an declared.

Zhu Dachang: “WuWuWu!”

The constables’ faces contorted with fury but they slowly withdrew their feet. Mu Zhong held his right elbow with his left hand; his entire right arm trembled faintly — clearly Lin Sui’an had strained the joint just now. Yet he showed not the slightest anger; if anything, his eyes lit up with excitement.

“Fine skills — and strong!” he said appreciatively.

“Lin Niangzi, what on earth are you doing?!” Meng Man bellowed.

The constables shouted furiously: “Seizing a court official — you’re courting death!”

Lin Sui’an slid her fingers to the base of Zhu Dachang’s neck, found two tendons, and pressed. Zhu Dachang wheezed twice, drawing a few gasping breaths and finally managing to speak: “Hero — mercy! I am nothing but a ninth-rank ungraded official — not worth much!”

Lin Sui’an cut him a sidelong glance. “Tell them to do what I say, or today will be your last day on earth.”

She had just barely dodged Mu Zhong’s punch, and the fist wind had split the skin at the crest of her brow. Blood was trickling down into her eye, partially obscuring her vision; she had to speak with one eye half-shut. Yet somehow her expression of contempt combined with half a face of blood made her look like a demonic executioner straight out of the underworld.

Zhu Dachang was so terrified he nearly soiled himself. His jaw chattering, he ground out two words: “Very well!”

“First — have the coroner come to examine the body.”

“Fetch the coroner!”

One constable sprinted off.

“Second — find a cartographer.”

“A — a cartographer who draws people or who draws flowers and birds?”

“One who draws maps.”

“Go find a cartographer!”

The second constable left.

“Third — find the craftsmen who built this room.”

“Find the craftsmen!”

The third constable ran off.

“Girl, what are you trying to do?” Mu Zhong asked with great interest.

Lin Sui’an ignored him, busy thinking through whether she had missed anything. But whether this era was simply easygoing or the work efficiency was simply that poor — fully ten minutes passed without a single person returning. Lin Sui’an had a hostage in hand and remained relatively calm; it was actually Mu Zhong who grew somewhat restless and began probing repeatedly.

“Little girl — don’t think your slapdash fighting skills scare me.”

“It doesn’t matter if the cat is black or white, so long as it catches mice.”

He thought she was blind? His arm was clearly dislocated, and he was quietly trying to slip it back into place.

Mu Zhong’s eyelid twitched. “There was no one in this room but you and the dead man. If you’re not the killer, who is?”

Lin Sui’an: “If I truly killed him, why is there no blood on me?”

“Washed it off.”

“With what water?”

“The tea water.”

“And would that be enough?” Lin Sui’an glanced at the tea implements.

“Used something else to wipe off the blood.”

“What, specifically?”

“Clothing, silk, or a bed sheet — any of those would work.”

“And what became of the cloth afterwards?”

“Naturally one would burn it.”

“Burn it with what?”

“The clay furnace.”

The clay furnace? Lin Sui’an followed Mu Zhong’s gaze — the “clay furnace” must be that small earthen stove for boiling tea.

“Pity that this furnace doesn’t have so much as a trace of ash in it,” Lin Sui’an said.

This was the source of the vague sense of wrongness she had noticed: the furnace chamber was completely empty, not a speck of ash — suspiciously clean. Of course it was also possible that Luo Shichuan had a habit of meticulous cleanliness and always emptied the furnace after every use.

Mu Zhong clicked his tongue.

“If I were truly the killer, why would I lock myself inside and wait to be caught?”

“Ruthless criminals often have a few loose screws.”

Lin Sui’an smiled coldly. “Quite true — kill one and you break even; kill two and you’re ahead. What do you say to that, County Adjutant Zhu?”

Zhu Dachang: “This — this — this — this hero — actually, I am very familiar with every alleyway map in Nanpu County — people call me the Living Street Map—”

Lin Sui’an: “Hm?”

“Keep me alive to clear the way for the hero!”

If circumstances had allowed, Lin Sui’an might almost have laughed. This pig-intestine brain took a most refreshing turn — he had actually mapped out a contingency plan on her behalf.

Mu Zhong studied Lin Sui’an for a while and then curved the corner of his mouth upward. “You’re not really going to claim Luo Shichuan killed himself, are you?”

Lin Sui’an had not entirely ruled out the possibility, but had quickly dismissed it.

For one reason: Luo Kou.

Luo Shichuan still had someone to care for — he would not have taken his own life.

“Not suicide,” Lin Sui’an said. “The true culprit must have killed him and then engineered this sealed room to escape and evade suspicion.”

Mu Zhong’s smile faded. “A sealed room?”

Zhu Dachang: “Wh-wh-wh-what’s that?”

“A murder takes place in a completely enclosed room, yet the killer contrives some trick to escape or vanish — as if into thin air — in order to evade responsibility.” Lin Sui’an’s gaze swept the entire room. “So long as we can solve the sealed-room puzzle, we will naturally find the true killer.” She glanced at Mu Zhong. “Surely you both want to find the person who killed Master Luo?”

Mu Zhong said nothing.

The first constable who had left finally returned, drenched in sweat, dragging a plump painter with him. The man was shaking uncontrollably, both legs slipping steadily toward the ground.

“Draw this room’s layout — every piece of furniture, every furnishing, every object in it. Not one inch may be wrong!”

Painter: “Huh?”

Constable: “Draw! Now!”

The painter trembled his way into position at the doorway, spread out his paper, looked into the room, drew a few strokes — not bad speed, actually.

Another ten-odd minutes passed before the second constable returned, leading a thin, wizened old man carrying a large wooden case — evidently Nanpu County’s coroner.

“Come in and examine the body. Be thorough, and announce everything you find loudly so I can hear!”

The coroner’s cloudy eyes had been fixed on Luo Shichuan’s corpse from the very beginning, as though no one else in the room existed. He spread a grass mat inside the doorway, stepped onto it, knelt before Luo Shichuan, opened his case, laid out a white cloth, and arranged his examination tools one by one. Finally he took out three sheets of yellow paper charms, folded them in a few creases, and set them on top of Luo Shichuan’s head, weighted down with a paperweight.

Luo Kou let out a suppressed sob and curled into Meng Man’s arms. Meng Man turned away, unable to watch. Lin Sui’an dragged Zhu Dachang closer to stand behind the coroner, staring fixedly at the coroner’s every move.

The coroner’s hands, thin as dry twigs, undid Luo Shichuan’s hair. Since the body had already grown stiff and could not be laid flat, the coroner began the examination with the body in the position it had fallen, working from the top of the head downward inch by inch. “Top of the head and face — no hairpin — hair three chi and one cun in length — crown, fontanelle, hairline, forehead, both brows — no wounds. Both eyes closed.” The coroner’s thumb and middle finger pried open Luo Shichuan’s eyelids. “Both eyes intact.”

In that instant, Lin Sui’an was without warning confronted with Luo Shichuan’s dilated pupils. A flash of white — and before her eyes appeared a scene, as if a channel had been switched.

An osmanthus tree heavy with flower buds. A low table laden with tea implements. Beside a tea bowl lay two white envelopes; a breath of wind stirred, and pale yellow buds drifted down onto the envelopes, glinting softly — like fragments of autumn.