To be honest, when Lin Sui’an had first arrived after transmigrating, she had thought Su Chengxian was reasonably good-looking — but now, seeing this Su Yiyun before her, she found him thoroughly disagreeable. His eyes were crooked, his nose was off-kilter, and that upturned corner of his mouth made him look, no matter how she stared, like a beast in human clothing. Her gaze drifted involuntarily to the faces of Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan — one breathtakingly handsome, the other resolute and upright — and she suddenly understood everything.

This must be what people meant by “it is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go back.”

Su Yiyun’s gaze drifted lightly onto Lin Sui’an’s face. “This must be the renowned Lin Niangzi of Yangdu. It seems the Su family and Lin Niangzi are truly bound by a deep-rooted fate —”

Before he could finish the sentence, Hua Yitang suddenly stepped forward and began furiously fanning his little folding fan at Su Yiyun’s face in rapid succession. The fragrant wind made Su Yiyun sneeze twice in a row.

“Oh my, oh my — Young Master Su, mind the wind, or you’ll twist your tongue,” Hua Yitang said, his face smiling while his heart was not.

Su Yiyun stepped back half a pace. His smile stiffened for a brief moment before returning to normal. “The wind outside is indeed a little strong. Hua-xiong, Ling-xiong, Lin Niangzi — please come in and take your seats. Everyone has been very eager to meet the three of you!”

Hua Yitang smiled with dancing eyes. “Then we shall have to trouble Young Master Su to make the introductions.”

Su Yiyun turned with a smile, adopting an air of great warmth as he invited Ling Zhiyan to walk alongside him, and Ling Zhiyan, wearing his professional smile, graciously accepted.

The main gate of Fan Ba’s establishment and the main hall were connected by an elevated solid-wood gallery. The outer side had been landscaped — vegetation arranged in pleasing layers, light and shadow overlapping like a painting rendered in ink. The inner side featured a flowing-water feature, a stream with pebbles that shimmered under the moonlight. Along both sides of the gallery’s eaves hung strings of small lanterns, and their soft orange glow wrapped around Su Yiyun’s wide, swaying robes. By his slight build, he was clearly not the one who had personally killed Shan Yuanming — at the very least, he had not done it with his own hands. As Lin Sui’an watched and watched, a sudden sense of familiarity crept over her, as though she had once before followed such a silhouette along a long gallery corridor —

“Ahem-hem-hem-hem!” Hua Yitang sidled over and coughed like an old man of seventy or eighty. “I have something to ask Jin Ruo.”

Lin Sui’an cast him a sideways glance: Then go find Jin Ruo — why are you pressing up against my side?

Jin Ruo: “Hey, I’m right here!”

Hua Yitang cleared his throat. “That method you mentioned earlier — the Qingmen route that can get past the Jinwu Guards —”

Jin Ruo held up five fingers. “Going through Qingmen will cost just five thousand gold.”

Hua Yitang smiled. “You’d be better off taking a stroll around this garden. You might earn five thousand gold.”

Jin Ruo’s eyes rolled around in a full circle. “Really?”

“If there’s an unexpected windfall, I’ll pay you another five hundred gold.”

“Deal!” Jin Ruo grinned like a rat that had stolen oil, leapt out of the gallery, and disappeared into the shrubbery. The leaves rustled twice, and he vanished into the night.

Lin Sui’an listened in complete bewilderment. “What riddle are you two playing at?”

“After the Feng family’s downfall, every major government office in the Eastern Capital, in order to distance itself from the Feng faction, rapidly replaced a large number of official positions — swapping out examination scholars from humble origins for scions of the great families,” Hua Yitang said with a smile. “Wan Lin is one of them.”

Lin Sui’an: “What?”

How is that even a possible move?

Hua Yitang smiled. “Some say it’s adding fuel to the fire. Some say it’s pulling out the firewood from under the pot. Some say it’s biding one’s time. I say it’s nothing but shortsightedness.”

Fangke: “Speak plainly.”

Hua Yitang quickened his pace, fanning his folding fan. “I’m simply taking precautions. I only hope tonight’s work won’t be done in vain.”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

Good grief — that detective’s eccentric professional habit of his was acting up again.

From up ahead came the faint sound of strings and drums, and a cluster of bright light made the night sky glow dimly in the distance. They had arrived at the main hall of Fan Ba’s establishment.

It was a square pavilion built atop a stone foundation five chi high, the structure itself over three zhang tall, with black upswept eaves and great vermilion pillars. The space was open on all four sides, with thick curtains hung to block the wind and cold. Climbing the steps and entering, Lin Sui’an found the hall ablaze with candlelight. Red lacquer tables were arranged in two rows on either side, laden with platters of food and drink. Musicians sat encircled around the perimeter, playing the pipa, konghou, and huqin together. Lin Sui’an had barely swept her eyes around when her attention was drawn to the scene in the center of the hall — she saw several men in wide-sleeved robes waving their arms and swaying to the music, their dancing clumsy, like a group of waddling penguins, occasionally shouting along with the melody, clapping their hands and stamping their feet.

Lin Sui’an was dumbfounded. What on earth was this? Square dancing for this era?

Su Yiyun clapped his hands and called out: “Everyone, everyone — the honored guests have arrived!”

The dancing figures turned in unison to look. They were all young men, collars loosened, faces flushed and covered in sweat from the dancing.

“Come, come, let me make the introductions,” Su Yiyun said, first pulling a young man in a blue robe from the crowd. “This is the thirteenth son of the Bai Family of Longxi — Bai Ruyi.”

Bai Ruyi’s appearance matched his name, which carried the meaning of elegant propriety — tall and slender, fair-skinned, with impeccable bearing and manner. “Greetings to both gentlemen.”

“Su the Tenth, what do you mean by this — why do you always introduce him first? Are you implying my Qingzhou Bai Family ranks below the Longxi Bai Family?!” Someone shoved through the crowd with a clamor, his figure round all over — round body, round face, and even round eyes — draped in a purple outer robe, mopping the sweat off his face with a purple handkerchief.

This person was about seven chi tall, stout and broad, and — most notably — both his handkerchief and his robe were purple. Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang exchanged a glance, a mutual understanding passing between them — a build that matched quite well with the inferences about the suspect.

Ling Zhiyan stepped forward. “I am Ling Zhiyan. May I ask who you —”

But the man in purple brushed Ling Zhiyan aside without a second look, walking straight toward Hua Yitang. His gaze was three parts disdainful and seven parts provocative. “I am Bai Xiang of Qingzhou, the number-one wastrel in Guangdu. Are you the number-one wastrel of Yangdu, Hua the Fourth? Why are you as skinny as a little chick?”

Well, well. This one is a wastrel too?! Lin Sui’an couldn’t help looking him over more carefully. Though his clothing was indeed very lavish, it was clearly a notch below Hua Yitang’s attire — all “wealth” without “refinement,” all “extravagance” without “elegance.” And his dismissal of Ling Zhiyan, followed by this insolent address to Hua Yitang, only further underscored that air of a nouveau riche about him.

The dozen or so scholars in the hall all held back laughter in unison, their expressions toward Hua Yitang carrying considerable disdain.

Hua Yitang, unhurried, cupped his fists in greeting. “I have long heard that Bai the Third of Qingzhou is amusingly plump and round as a ball — seeing you today, I find the reputation entirely deserved.”

Bai Xiang flew into a rage. “You’re calling me a dog?!”

Hua Yitang: “Why must Third Brother sell himself short? Looking at your physique, you are clearly a cousin to the pig!”

Lin Sui’an: “Pfft!”

Ling Zhiyan barely held himself together, pressing his lips shut and clenching his jaw to keep from laughing.

Bai Xiang, his face cycling between green and red with fury, flung off his outer robe and threw a punch. Lin Sui’an was about to intervene, but Hua Yitang’s reaction was unexpectedly swift — he raised his leg and kicked. Bai Xiang had thrown the first blow, but what could his short, thick arms do against Hua Yitang’s long legs? As the saying goes, longer reach equals greater advantage. Before Bai Xiang’s fist could reach Hua Yitang, Hua Yitang’s foot had already connected with his belly. There was a “thud” like a drumstick striking a cowhide drum, and Bai Xiang let out a yelp, dropped squarely onto his backside, and sat there looking utterly bewildered.

Hua Yitang slowly withdrew his leg, brushed off nonexistent dust from his sleeve with his fan, and smiled. “After you.”

At this, everyone except Lin Sui’an and Ling Zhiyan lost the ability to laugh.

“Ha ha ha ha — fine work, Fourth Son of the Hua family! Just as the rumors say — never spares his words and never takes a loss with his hands either!” Loud laughter rang out from beyond the hall, and in walked a graceful young woman on the arm of a tall, powerfully-built man in a green robe. Candlelight fell on the woman’s lovely face, smooth as carved jade. The man beside her appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six, tall and sturdy, with thick brows and sharp eyes. He had apparently drunk a good deal, for a flush of red had spread across his cheekbones and the corners of his eyes. On his right shoulder was embroidered a single feather in gold thread.

The young woman smiled with a charming glance and curtseyed gracefully. “Fan Baniang greets Ling-langjun and Hua-langjun.”

“Today is truly a fine day — I, Jiang, am fortunate enough to meet the young outstanding representatives of five families at once: the Bai Family of Qingzhou, the Bai Family of Longxi, the Ling Family of Xingyang, the Hua Family of Yangdu, and the Su Family of Suizhou. This is a blessing of three lifetimes!” The man smiled and cupped his fists toward Ling Zhiyan and Hua Yitang. “I am Jiang Dongyi. Just now I ate a little too much and retired to Fan Baniang’s boudoir for a brief rest — her bed is both fragrant and soft — and I slept rather longer than I intended. I failed to come and greet you from afar. Truly, my manners have been lacking.”

Hearing this person announce his name, Lin Sui’an felt a dull ache in her teeth.

The protagonist’s halo effect, it seemed, had indeed triggered. This Jiang Dongyi was the one Jin Ruo had referred to as the “Tiger of Taiyuan Commandery.”

Ling Zhiyan returned the greeting with a cupped-fist bow; Hua Yitang responded with a nod of his folding fan. The group exchanged courtesies and took their seats. Su Yiyun, as host, began the pleasantries of warming up the gathering, introducing Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan in turn to the other guests — all scions of great families from various regions who had come to participate in the special examination. While none could match the lineage of the Five Surnames and Seven Clans, they were by no means ordinary. Every person’s form of address was a great string of names — personal name, courtesy name, and sobriquet — that made Lin Sui’an’s head throb. She seized an opportunity to retreat into the shadow behind the curtains at the rear of Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan’s seats. Fangke had already claimed this inconspicuous spot of prime placement, and was sitting there dozing. Hearing Lin Sui’an sit down beside him, he lifted his eyelids for a moment, then closed them again.

Lin Sui’an pricked up her ears and listened — he had actually already begun snoring. She couldn’t help but feel deeply impressed. To fall asleep in an instant under these circumstances — Fang-xiong’s mental fortitude was truly extraordinary.

At the banquet table, Fan Baniang raised her cup and launched the drinking games, with the scholars competing in literary cleverness in high spirits. Su Yiyun and Bai Xiang played the role of “drinking overseers” — in modern terms, the ones responsible for pouring the penalty wine — and their target was clearly Ling Zhiyan and Hua Yitang. Five out of ten rounds were directed at the two of them, yet these two were a first-rank examination scholar and a man who had spent years frequenting pleasure quarters respectively, and they were entirely unfazed by such minor skirmishes. After several rounds back and forth, they had not drunk a single cup, but had instead gotten several jars into the others, with Bai Xiang by far the most thoroughly doused. In less time than it took to burn a stick of incense, his eyes had gone glassy and his steps were unsteady, and he was talking more and more.

The rest of the scholars were in much the same state. Several jars of spirits down, they were gradually penetrated one by one by Hua Yitang’s techniques of drawing conversation, and, setting aside factional divisions, began draping their arms around Hua Yitang’s shoulders and chatting freely. Bai Ruyi was comparatively reserved — he seemed to have found considerable common ground in conversation with Ling Zhiyan.

Lin Sui’an could see it perfectly clearly: Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan had come under the guise of attending a banquet, but were actually here to extract confessions.

Yet this crude technique of drawing people out was clearly ineffective against two of the guests.

The first was Su Yiyun — seeing that the drinking games were no match for Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan, he withdrew early to a corner seat and stopped provoking them.

The second was Jiang Dongyi. Though he was a guest who had been invited, he sat in the seat of honor, leaning against the armrest, cup in hand, neither joining the games nor making conversation with the others. He wore the expression of someone in a superior position surveying others from above, and occasionally a gleam of sharp light would flash in his eyes — and by curious coincidence, it always fell on Ling Zhiyan.

Lin Sui’an didn’t know whether Ling Zhiyan had noticed, but that gaze made her skin crawl. The strangest thing was that Su Yiyun would also follow Jiang Dongyi’s gaze toward Ling Zhiyan, his expression flickering with the alternating brightness of the candle flames, shifting between clarity and shadow.

Lin Sui’an nudged Fangke at her side. “Judging by build, I think Bai Xiang and Jiang Dongyi are the most suspicious. What does Fang-xiong think?”

Fangke’s eyelids twitched. His light snoring stopped, but he didn’t answer.

“But Bai Xiang couldn’t even beat Hua Yitang, so he doesn’t seem like a martial practitioner. Jiang Dongyi, on the other hand — I hear he’s ranked fifth among the jianghu masters.” Lin Sui’an persisted, nudging Fangke’s arm. “What does Fang-xiong make of it?”

Fangke opened his eyes. “Why ask me?”

“Nothing else to do. Let’s chat — relieve the boredom.”

Fangke’s eyelids drooped. “If it truly is Jiang Dongyi, that’s trouble.”

“How so?”

“Can you beat him?”

“I haven’t crossed hands with him, so I can’t say.”

“The Hua family and the Ling family combined wouldn’t dare provoke the Jiang family.”

“You think Hua Yitang — that one who thrives on chaos — would pull whiskers from a tiger’s mouth?”

Fangke gave a snort, turned his head, closed his eyes, and went back to feigning sleep.

Interesting. Lin Sui’an had noticed a particular trait in Fangke: his sharp-tongued skill of mocking people seemed especially directed at Hua Yitang, and occasionally at Ling Zhiyan, but toward Jin Ruo and herself he would at most give a glare or two. Toward Mu Xia he was considerably more polite, and toward Yita he was practically amiable.

Was there some pattern to this? Or did he simply find Hua Yitang especially disagreeable?

“Shan Yuanming? Of course I saw him — he had a couple bites of food, and then, no idea who offended him, he went off with a black face and couldn’t be stopped.” Bai Xiang slurred his thick tongue and hollered. “If you ask me, his luck was just bad. If he’d stayed here, how could he have died so senselessly?”

Lin Sui’an snapped to attention at once and was just about to nudge Fangke when she realized he had already opened his eyes.

“Fancy that — Brother Bai, you haven’t left the banquet, and yet your news is so well-informed. How impressive.” Ling Zhiyan used that straight, upright face of his to say such words, and the effect was especially pleasant to hear. Bai Xiang was immediately puffed up with satisfaction and laughed. “What’s strange about that? Yongtai Ward’s main street is only two ward walls away from Fan Ba’s place. Frankly speaking, if someone over there passes wind you can smell it from here. When it happened, there was crying and screaming all over Yongtai Ward, and the noise was enough to hurt your ears. What a killjoy!”

The rest of the aristocratic scholars chimed in one after another, and with the exception of Bai Ruyi, whose expression darkened slightly, everyone wore the look of people hearing fresh, entertaining gossip — not a trace of sorrow among them.

Lin Sui’an noticed that Ling Zhiyan’s eyes had gone cold. In contrast, Hua Yitang’s smile grew ever more radiant. He brushed off his sleeve and stood up, then suddenly raised his voice: “Shan Yuanming left a death message before he died — one that directly points to the killer!”

The hall fell into a sudden silence. You could have heard a pin drop.

Everyone looked at Hua Yitang in shock. Bai Xiang slapped the table and shot to his feet. “Hua the Fourth — what do you mean by that?!”

Hua Yitang’s smile bloomed dazzling and brilliant, like a red peony bursting into bloom in the night. “The one who killed Shan Yuanming is among you!”

Side Story

Lin Sui’an: Quick, quick — bring out the sunflower seeds!