Medicine?!

Could someone be testing drugs on living people? An elderly health supplement scam? Did this era actually have biological laboratories?! Lin Sui’an’s imagination ballooned outward like a kite cut loose.

Hua Yitang: “What kind of medicine?”

“Lu Shi suffered from a wheezing illness and had been taking medicine for many years. The toxic substance was present in his prescribed formula all along. The line between medicine and poison is drawn at the same source — whether a substance is medicine or poison depends entirely on degree.” Fang Ke raised his eyes, his gaze quiet and unfathomable. “Or rather — it depends entirely on the physician’s intent.”

Lin Sui’an couldn’t suppress a sharp intake of breath. She recalled the exchange between Hua Yitang and a passerby from earlier.

“The fengshui of Beiyue Ward is inauspicious — none of the city’s physicians are willing to go there. Only Doctor Ji would go, offering free consultations to the elderly in the ward and even advancing the cost of their medicine.”

The only physician willing to treat the elderly of Beiyue Ward was Doctor Ji. Which meant—

Hua Yitang’s expression cooled. “You suspect Doctor Ji?!”

“Unfortunately, his prescriptions are flawless. As for the herbal residue — all medicine carries some degree of toxicity. So long as the dosage is calibrated correctly, nothing incriminating can be extracted from it.” Fang Ke retrieved a stack of papers from the wooden box and pushed them across to Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an. The handwriting on the pages was angular and dry, like a mirror image of Fang Ke himself.

Lin Sui’an noticed that the format and layout of the papers closely resembled the autopsy record forms she had seen before — but without the official red column lines stamped by the yamen. Each was separately annotated with the deceased’s name, address, age, sex, physical characteristics, the order and specifics of the examination, findings, and cause of death, and at the very end, an additional entry unique to these forms: the sample identification numbers for the deceased’s examined internal organs.

These autopsy reports were more detailed in their narration, more precise in their annotations, and more rigorously logical than any autopsy form she had previously encountered. More remarkably — Lin Sui’an could actually understand a portion of it.

Good heavens — could this man be a modern forensic scientist who had transmigrated here? Lin Sui’an’s spirits leapt. She lowered her voice and attempted a password: “When the sign changes and the exponent is odd?”

Fang Ke was mystified. “What?”

Lin Sui’an: “A cup of imperial palace wine?”

Fang Ke: “This poison bears no relation to wine.”

Not a fellow transmigrant, then.

Lin Sui’an was quite disappointed.

While Lin Sui’an was going off on this tangent, Hua Yitang had already read through every single autopsy record form. His brow was deeply furrowed, his expression grave. “By your records, there are nine individuals here, dying from this past June to the present. Each was over sixty years of age. The official cause of death in every case was given by the constables’ office as old age and lingering illness — natural causes. But your conclusions differ.” Hua Yitang raised his eyes, his gaze locked on Fang Ke’s. “You state that the causes of death fall broadly into three categories: cardiac arrest, acute wheezing and asphyxiation, and epileptic seizure.”

Fang Ke seemed mildly surprised by Hua Yitang’s reading speed. He regarded him silently for a moment, then added the autopsy record he had just completed for Lu Shi to the stack and pushed it over. “Not nine. Ten… No. Probably more than ten. When I first noticed something wrong, it was June — but in the year before that, dozens of elderly people had already died in Beiyue Ward. The causes of death were vague, the numbers abnormal. And furthermore —” He paused. “Without a single exception, all of them were Ji Gaoyang’s patients. And after death, their bodies were handled and the cause of death officially recorded by Ji Gaoyang.”

Lin Sui’an maintained a composed exterior while inwardly a pot of boiling oil was overturning: Good heavens — is this real?!

Hua Yitang asked again: “Do you have proof?!”

“Not at present.” Fang Ke gathered all the autopsy records. “But once I identify which poison was used, I will find the evidence.”

“Have you reported this to the authorities?” Hua Yitang asked.

Fang Ke let out a derisive laugh. “What good would reporting it do? The yamen’s coroner is drunk every day and can’t even conduct a proper examination. Prefectural Magistrate Xu is a muddle-headed fool. Even if you laid evidence before their eyes, they wouldn’t be able to see it. And besides — all the victims were penniless wretches with no kin. As far as those officials are concerned, these people were a nuisance in life and a convenience in death. As for how they died — no one is asking, so why should it matter?”

Hua Yitang frowned, tapping the fan handle slowly against his palm.

Lin Sui’an asked the last question that remained on her mind. “Then why are you investigating?”

Fang Ke revealed his first smile since they had met — the pale corners of his lips curved upward on one side, his dark pupils shadowed and dim, deeply unsettling in their gloom. “Nothing else to do. I’m bored.”

By the time they left Fang Ke’s place, dawn had already broken. The early morning light gilded the air with a warm golden hue, and the autumn chill burrowed like feathers into Lin Sui’an’s nostrils. She sneezed involuntarily.

“Achoo!” Hua Yitang’s sneeze was more resounding still, followed by two full-body shudders, as if shaking off whatever had clung to him from the Fang Family Medical Clinic.

Both of them had gone the entire night without sleep — frightened, exhausted, and starving. They made straight for Heban City along the main road of Zhongyue Ward. The ward gates had just opened at dawn, and the number of pedestrians was gradually increasing. Quite a few farmers carrying baskets of fresh vegetables walked with hurried steps, streaming in from every ward — all of them heading to the morning market. Heyue City had nothing resembling formal east and west markets, nor was it like Yangdu where trade could take place anywhere in any ward. It occupied a form somewhere between these two models. Beyond the shops set up in individual wards, the largest market was the early-morning riverside gathering along the Qingyue River — similar to Nanpu County’s grand market days, and at its liveliest in the early morning hours.

Three stone bridges over the river served as the most visible dividing lines, splitting the riverside into upper, middle, and lower sections. The upper section was primarily for goods and trade — fruits, vegetables, poultry, small sundry items, and clothing and shoes, most sold directly by the farming households that produced them, with stalls of modest scale. Grain, cloth and silk, and gold or silver ware were not to be found here. The middle section served as a labor market — craftsmen, laborers, employment brokers, and various go-betweens gathered to exchange the latest news of the job market and share information about clients. The lower section was largely taken up by food stalls. The variety of breakfast fare was rich and filling — lamb soup noodles, steamed flatbreads, various stuffed pastries, spiced flatbreads, aromatic pepper, and great pools of cooking oil had so infused the stone bridges with their fragrance that they seemed to have taken on the spirit of some legendary glutton.

Hua Yitang was, in truth, famished. He did not bother to be selective, found a busy noodle stall, sat himself down with a thud, and ordered six large bowls straight away, causing astonished commotion among every diner nearby.

The stall owner was a man with a pockmarked face whose smile was somewhat strained. “Two customers, our bowls are quite generous — six large bowls between two people, isn’t that a bit—”

Hua Yitang: “Lin Sui’an, how many bowls will you have?”

Lin Sui’an: “One.”

Hua Yitang: “Bring seven bowls first, then we’ll see.”

Stall owner: “!!!”

Hua Yitang produced a string of coins and pressed it into the stall owner’s hand. “Hurry it up. I’m hungry.”

The stall owner muttered something along the lines of “you truly can’t judge a book by its cover” and withdrew. Before long, seven bowls of noodles arrived at the table. Lin Sui’an had managed two spoonfuls when Hua Yitang had already emptied two bowls — most astonishingly of all, he ate at breakneck speed yet maintained impeccable poise. The noodles reached his lips and vanished without a sound, seemingly by magic. By the fifth bowl, the diners around them who had been waiting to watch a spectacle had instead turned to Hua Yitang with looks of genuine admiration. More than a few sturdy farmhands gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up, hailing Hua Yitang as “a real man of substance.”

More like a real bottomless pit, Lin Sui’an thought to herself. As Jin Ruo had said — with an appetite like his, only the immeasurably wealthy Hua Family could afford to keep him fed.

By the sixth bowl, Hua Yitang’s pace had slowed at last. He finally freed his mouth for conversation. “Do you think we can trust that Fang Ke?”

“Hard to say.” Lin Sui’an blew on a spoonful of noodles. “At the moment it’s only his word. Difficult to judge its truth, and this person’s words and behavior are strange. To put it bluntly, he—”

“Doesn’t look like a good person.” Hua Yitang finished the second half.

Lin Sui’an shrugged — neither confirming nor denying.

Fang Ke’s account had sounded well-reasoned and methodical, very convincing on first hearing. But neither she nor Hua Yitang knew the first thing about autopsies. Even if Fang Ke had been fabricating everything, they had no way to tell.

“Do you remember what that passerby said earlier? He mentioned that the physician named Fang in Zhongyue Ward was a quack who had caused a patient’s death and paid so much in reparations he didn’t even have trousers left.” Hua Yitang tapped his fan lightly on the table’s edge, lowering his voice. “That was referring to him, wasn’t it.”

Lin Sui’an: “He was wearing trousers.”

Hua Yitang: “…Hey.”

“He does look genuinely poor, though.” Lin Sui’an fished out the last two pieces of noodle, chewed them, and clicked her tongue. “But there’s one thing he said that aligns with you — the number of elderly people who have recently died in Beiyue Ward is wrong. On that point alone, I’m willing to trust him once.”

Hua Yitang stilled. He stared fixedly at Lin Sui’an, then suddenly broke into a grin — a flash of teeth so white they were nearly blinding. Lin Sui’an’s eyes watered from the glare and she quickly ducked her head to drink some broth. The broth was far too salty, and she choked into a coughing fit. A warm teacup was pressed into her hands. Lin Sui’an raised it straight to her lips — the tea barely touched her tongue before she spat it out.

The tea was bitter, sour, scorching, and astringent all at once. Whatever solution Fang Ke used to preserve his specimen samples probably tasted better than this.

The only person capable of brewing such a catastrophically undrinkable beverage was, of course—

“Pig person, have some tea.” Yita’s disaster of a tongue sounded in her ear. Lin Sui’an nearly dropped to her knees. This one truly was impossible to shake off.

“Six Pockmarks, two more bowls of noodles!” Jin Ruo sat down beside Lin Sui’an, brushing the dew from his clothes. “You two are in here eating and drinking your fill while we’ve been searching for you the entire night — we nearly worried ourselves to death!”

She didn’t believe a word of it. They had just barely sat down for two bites of noodles when these two had already found them. And Jin Ruo could apparently call the stall owner by name off the top of his head — Lin Sui’an let her gaze drift to the pockmarked stall owner out of the corner of her eye. The stall owner caught her looking and winked with a grin — clearly one of Quiet Gate’s people. No wonder Jin Ruo had known exactly where they were the whole time.

And besides, Jin Ruo looked perfectly rested, his complexion rosy and his voice full and strong.

Lin Sui’an: “You might want to wipe the sleep from your eyes.”

Jin Ruo grinned and casually rubbed his face. “What did you find at the Wasteland Burial Grounds?”

“Don’t get me started,” Hua Yitang waved a weary hand. “What a night — midnight terror, one upheaval after another, the story’s too long to even begin. What about you? Did you find anything?”

“Yes.” Yita raised a hand. “A point, a gemstone ring, it’s an artificial product, I asked, there’s a problem with it.”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

Hua Yitang: “…”

Jin Ruo gritted his teeth and complained to Lin Sui’an: “Yesterday, when you two went to the Wasteland Burial Grounds without bringing him, he was in my ear all night long, going on and on and on. I couldn’t understand a word of it, and the less I understood, the more he said. I’m on the verge of losing my mind! What possessed you to get involved with this person?!”

Lin Sui’an’s head swam.

Heaven and earth are her witness — she hadn’t wanted to either.

Hua Yitang pressed a fan against his temple, looking somewhat at a loss. “Where’s Mu Xia?”

Jin Ruo: “The ward gates had barely opened when Steward Li arrived, saying there was urgent business for you. You weren’t here, so he dragged Mu Xia off instead — very mysterious about it. I don’t know what they’re doing, but Steward Li’s face looked bad. Probably nothing good.”

Hua Yitang raised his fan. “It’s on the way — let’s go check on the Precious Treasure Pavilion in Sanhe Ward.”

Jin Ruo: “Hey, my noodles aren’t done yet—”

Before the words left his mouth, a commotion broke out somewhere in the middle section of the market. An uproar for unknown reasons. Jin Ruo shot into the crowd like a dart and vanished. A short time later he darted back out, his eyes gleaming. “Heyue City’s constables have come out in full force and arrested an evildoer in Zhongyue Ward — and it’s a physician!”

At these words, both Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang went pale with shock.

Hua Yitang: “Are you certain you heard right?! Zhongyue Ward, not Qihe Ward?”

Lin Sui’an: “What’s the physician’s name?!”

Jin Ruo: “Fang Ke.”

By the time everyone rushed to the yamen at Yihe Ward, Magistrate Xu had already convened the hearing, proclaimed the court to order, and summoned the court’s authority. On the left side of the hall knelt the plaintiff, and on the right knelt two defendants separately — Lin Sui’an was astonished to find that the plaintiff was Lujiu, and the two defendants were none other than Xiao Yan and Fang Ke.

Lujiu was on his knees at the front of the hall, wailing and tearing his hair out. His script consisted of variations on “My uncle died an unjust death — Your Excellency must see justice done for me.” Xiao Yan’s face was bloodless, her red-rimmed eyes fierce, her voice ringing out clearly: “I have been wronged. I absolutely did not harm Grandfather Lu — Lujiu is slandering me.” Outside in the crowd of spectators, the onlookers were eating up the drama, heads together, swapping theories.

Fang Ke, by comparison, was kneeling beside them in complete silence. He didn’t even bother to raise an eyelid — he seemed to be inhabiting an entirely different plane of existence.

Remarkably, two of the Hua Family’s stewards and Mu Xia were also among the crowd. They had even helped Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an secure spots in the front-row VIP position. Mu Xia quickly reported to Hua Yitang:

“Lujiu went to the yamen at dawn and filed a complaint, claiming that Xiao Yan had conspired with someone to murder his uncle Lu Shi, and slapped them with the charge of murder for financial gain.”

“Wait,” Jin Ruo interjected. “That Lu Shi was utterly destitute — what money was there to gain?”

Steward Li: “Apparently, when Lujiu was going through Lu Shi’s belongings after his death, he found a receipt. While he was alive, Lu Shi had purchased a pearl from Huabao Pavilion — but when Lujiu went through the house from top to bottom, there was no pearl to be found.”

Lin Sui’an: “Could the receipt be a forgery?”

Her words were barely out when a constable led in someone who appeared to be a shop manager. “Reporting to Your Excellency — the manager of Huabao Pavilion has arrived.”

The manager of Huabao Pavilion was young, around thirty years of age, with a round head and an honest-looking face. Being called up to the hall had his legs shaking and his voice trembling. “This — this humble subject Tian Bao pays his respects to Your Excellency.”

Steward Li immediately offered context: “It’s a small jewelry shop — sells mostly lower-grade merchandise. Nothing like our Hua Family’s Precious Treasure Pavilion.”

Jin Ruo added: “Tian Bao is an honest man, his business dealings are fair, the jewelry in his shop may not be the finest quality, but the prices are reasonable and he is equally fair to all customers, young and old — he has a good reputation among the neighbors.”

The expressions on Steward Li and Steward Zhang’s faces became somewhat strained.

Lin Sui’an raised an eyebrow — worthy of Quiet Gate’s young master. He had only been wandering around town for a few hours yesterday, and he’d already gathered intelligence like this.

Hua Yitang glanced at Jin Ruo and gave an approving nod.

Jin Ruo held up a finger. “That counts as one piece of information — remember to pay.”

“Tian Bao — look at this receipt and tell the court whether it came from your shop.” The magistrate had the receipt sent down to Tian Bao.

Tian Bao examined it and nodded repeatedly. “It did indeed.”

“Do you recall who the pearl was sold to?”

“I remember — it was Lu Shi.”

“Slam!” The magistrate brought the gavel down hard. “Preposterous! Lu Shi’s home was bare as bones — where would he have found the money to purchase a pearl?!”

Tian Bao immediately prostrated himself. “This humble subject would not dare deceive Your Excellency. My father and Lu Shi were old acquaintances. Although Lu Shi had fallen on hard times in recent years, in his youth he was a celebrated jewelry craftsman, well-known far and wide. He fell apart after his wife and daughter died in an accident, and let his craft go to waste. A year ago, he suddenly came to my shop and said he wanted to spend his life savings on a pearl. The money was not quite enough, but I remembered the friendship between him and my father, and chose a slightly flawed pearl to sell him at half the going market price — I didn’t dare ask for more than that!”

“What did Lu Shi want the pearl for?”

“Lu Shi said… he wanted to use scrap materials to craft a piece of jewelry.”

“What kind of jewelry?”

“That… I truly did not think to ask.”

Lin Sui’an’s brow twitched. She glanced involuntarily at Hua Yitang. Hua Yitang happened to be looking at her at the same moment, his fan touching his chin, an eyebrow raised.

Lin Sui’an knew that Hua Yitang had arrived at the same thought she had:

The pearl hairpin her golden ability had seen.

Side Story

Fang Ke: What on earth — how did I end up a suspect in a murder case?

Hua Yitang: Oh my — I know this one well.

Lin Sui’an: Ha.