As the words faded, Mingshu jumped up, barely containing her excitement as she softly cheered.
Song Qingzhao, both surprised and delighted, quickly asked, “How did you discover this?”
Mingshu repeated her and Lu Chang’s earlier deductions.
The sleeve arrow quiver that had confused everyone, coupled with the students accompanying the Third Prince, had directed everyone’s attention to the bamboo grove where the quiver fell. They initially assumed the culprit had entered and escaped through the bamboo grove, overlooking other possibilities. However, this contradicted the lack of footprints in the grove and flower beds, which shifted their focus to the Yusong Pavilion where Tang Li was.
On the other hand, even if Xie Xi and Tang Li wanted to kill Yang Zishu, they had many better opportunities. Why choose Huantao Pavilion, especially when the Third Prince was present with everyone? And why throw the quiver in the bamboo grove? No matter how reckless or foolish Xie Xi and Tang Li might be, they wouldn’t make such an elementary mistake. The reasoning behind this puzzled everyone. Additionally, based on Lu Chang’s assessment of the crime, Tang Li was unlikely to be the culprit, seemingly bringing the case to a standstill.
Unless the bamboo grove wasn’t the culprit’s escape route. Perhaps the killer took another path, and the quiver was planted in the grove to frame Xie and Tang. This would explain certain inconsistencies. Moreover, since Yang Zishu had sneaked into Huantao Pavilion early, it proved the murder wasn’t spontaneous. The killer’s choice of Huantao Pavilion must have deeper significance. Mingshu tore out the layout diagrams from her notebook and pieced them together, seeking the reason for the killer’s choice.
Indeed, she found a crucial element everyone had naturally overlooked. The killer didn’t enter or exit from the back of Huantao Pavilion but slipped in from the front through gaps between adjacent buildings. Along the Third Prince’s tour route from Suiming Hall, three other pavilions stood close Beihai Pavilion, Thousand Books Tower, and Tingyue Pavilion. Although these structures were near each other, narrow alleys between them allowed passage, hidden by vines and vegetation. Mingshu discovered the manuscript in the alley between Tingyue Pavilion and Thousand Books Tower.
While the manuscript’s presence could prove the killer’s route, it raised a bigger question: How did the killer sneak into the alley and then into Huantao Pavilion to kill Yang Zishu without being noticed by everyone outside?
Lu Chang’s reminder sparked an idea in Mingshu.
A person’s back is always a blind spot. When a group moves in a line with something drawing attention at the front, people rarely notice what those at the back are doing. Especially when everyone followed the Third Prince, with his attendants nearby, no one monitored the rear of the procession. The student line was long, making it impossible to see the end from the front. Mingshu clearly remembered that when they reached Thousand Books Tower, the Third Prince, inspired by the couplet at the entrance, improvised a verse and asked all students to compose matching lines. Everyone’s attention was on the Prince and the students competing, completely overlooking those at the back, particularly the person standing alone in the last row – Zhang Song.
The distance from Thousand Books Tower to Huantao Pavilion wasn’t far. The time spent at the tower, including the Prince’s tour inside, was enough for Zhang Song to slip away unnoticed, commit the murder, and return. The person in front of him wouldn’t notice, or even if they did, Zhang Song’s quick return would create the illusion he never left.
This explained why the killer chose Huantao Pavilion – it provided a perfect alibi.
It also clarified why Yang Zishu went to Huantao Pavilion. It was a trap, and as Zhang Song’s friend, Yang Zishu wouldn’t suspect his suggestion.
After hearing Mingshu’s explanation, Song Qingzhao had an epiphany. Their deductions, coupled with the blood-stained manuscript and the information he had just gathered, all pointed to one person.
Not Tang Li, nor Xie Xi, but the thin scholar accompanying Yang Zishu – Zhang Song.
“But these are still just speculations,” Song Qingzhao pointed out. “We lack concrete evidence to convict him. Most importantly, as Lu mentioned, Yang Zishu died from stabbing. The killer’s clothes must be bloodstained, but Zhang Song’s weren’t. Did he have time to change in such a hurry?”
“What if he didn’t change clothes?” Lu Chang slowly suggested.
Both were stunned. Lu Chang continued with another sentence.
Mingshu’s eyes widened. “That would work?”
Song Qingzhao also found it incredible. “Are you sure, Lu? What if it’s a misunderstanding…”
“It’s just my speculation,” Lu Chang replied.
Mingshu bit her lip, narrowed her eyes, and grinned mischievously. “What are we afraid of? We’ll know if it’s a misunderstanding once we try.”
She beckoned them closer and whispered a crafty plan.
Song Qingzhao couldn’t help but laugh.
Lu Chang did the same.
As the night deepened, the mountain chill intensified. In Chongming Hall’s courtyard, the draft made the seated students shiver. Frozen to the bone, they began to complain softly. Soon, guards brought in countless braziers.
“We apologize for the inconvenience today,” the captain of Zhao Jingran’s guards announced. “The case remains unclear, so we must ask you to stay a while longer. His Highness, aware of the mountain cold, has sent braziers to warm you and hot food to fill your stomachs.” He gestured for the guards to distribute the braziers and serve the food.
Over a dozen braziers were placed around the courtyard, with more near the entrance. The charcoal fires blazed, rapidly raising the temperature, especially near the doors.
Steaming food arrived – spicy soup rich with ginger, pepper, and cinnamon. Exhausted and hungry, the students eagerly devoured it, some even asking for seconds. Under the dual assault of braziers and spicy soup, many soon complained of heat, wiping sweat and fanning themselves with loosened collars.
Among them, only one sat motionless like a mountain, ignoring the soup. Despite sweat on his brow and neck, he didn’t touch his collar, as if in deep meditation.
This was Zhang Song, one of Yang Zishu’s friends from the academy. Thin and unremarkable, he sat alone at the back, neither speaking nor approached by others.
“Why aren’t you drinking?” a clear voice asked. Zhang Song turned to see Lu Chang’s sister crouching beside him.
Sipping her soup, she continued, “We haven’t eaten all day. You should fill your stomach.” She wiped the sweat from her brow, blinking at him.
“I’m not used to spicy soup,” Zhang Song quickly explained.
“That’s a shame,” Mingshu said regretfully. She finished her soup, sighed contentedly, and stood with her empty bowl. Rising too quickly, she accidentally kicked his full bowl.
The soup spilled everywhere, soaking the hem of his robe. He jumped up, but his lower half was already drenched.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Mingshu apologized frantically. “Your clothes are dirty. Should I ask a guard to help you change?”
“No need. It’s just a small stain,” he refused, stepping back from Mingshu. He sat down again on a clean spot as if rooted to the ground.
Mingshu left, apologizing profusely. As soon as she turned, she flashed a triumphant smile at Lu Chang and Song Qingzhao in the distance.
After about an hour, the Bianjing authorities finally arrived to take over Yang Zishu’s case.
The students in the courtyard waited a bit longer before receiving permission from the Third Prince to leave. Everyone sighed in relief, got up, and dispersed in small groups.
Soon, the road outside Chongming Hall emptied. A short, thin figure darted into the shadows of the eaves, avoiding the crowd and heading towards Thousand Books Tower. Shortly after, he slipped into the alley between Thousand Books Tower and Tingyue Pavilion.
The narrow alley was littered with rocks and weeds. He crouched, searching in the dark. Suddenly, a light appeared ahead.
“Looking for something? Need a light?” A girl’s clear, amused voice rang out. In the growing lamplight, a smiling face gradually came into view.
Mingshu approached slowly with a lamp, Lu Chang behind her.
The man on the ground, sensing danger, turned to flee but found another person with a lamp blocking his way.
“Zhang Song, where are you going?” Song Qingzhao asked coldly.
Trapped, Zhang Song could only stand up.
“Are you looking for this?” Mingshu raised her hand, holding a crumpled, flattened manuscript.
Zhang Song’s face changed, but he forced composure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just taking a shortcut.”
“Is that so?” Lu Chang moved past Mingshu as he and Song Qingzhao closed in on Zhang Song.
“What… what are you doing?” Zhang Song pressed against the wall in fear.
“Mingshu, turn around,” Lu Chang said coldly.
“Okay.” Mingshu obediently turned her back.
Sounds of struggle and cries of pain erupted behind her. She closed her eyes, curiosity burning. Soon, the struggle ceased, leaving only whimpers. Mingshu bit her lip and slowly turned around.
She immediately collided with Lu Chang’s chest, blocking her view entirely.
“No peeking!” Lu Chang commanded.
Mingshu stomped her foot in frustration – having a brother who knew her too well was no fun.
Behind Lu Chang, Zhang Song lay on the ground, stripped to his undergarments and restrained by Song Qingzhao. His inner clothes were covered in blood stains.
Outside the alley, countless lamps lit up as Zhao Jingran’s guards and Bianjing constables surrounded the area.
Zhang Song was caught red-handed.