The melody from Lu Chang’s grass whistle was as clear and soothing as the man himself. His gentle heart had the power to calm restlessness. After playing the nursery rhyme three times, Mingshū’s turbulent emotions gradually settled.
She plucked a blade of grass and blew a long whistle. The sound outside ceased. Lu Chang, having received her farewell, no longer disturbed her. The night breeze swept by, clearing Mingshū’s mind.
She took out the gold ingot from her pouch and played with it in her hand. Her thoughts drifted to Du Wenhui’s pale face, blank stare, and hopeless eyes…
She couldn’t destroy this last glimmer of hope born from despair.
Mingshū tossed the gold ingot up and caught it three times. On the final catch, she gripped it tightly in her palm.
Her decision was made.
She likely couldn’t complete the task Liu had given her. Tomorrow, she would return the deposit and leave the Wei family.
It would be perfect timing to celebrate with her brother.
—
Having made her decision, Mingshū’s mood improved.
Although this choice would cost her a substantial fee and affect her reputation, she was determined to give up the task.
If her brother were here, he’d surely tell her that either choice was valid and that she shouldn’t feel burdened. He’d encourage her to do what she felt was right. Uncovering the truth behind the “ghost” wasn’t wrong, but neither was choosing to abandon the task. Choices were always difficult, with the only measure being one’s conscience.
Still unable to sleep and with time to spare, Mingshū took her lantern and went for a walk. The Wei mansion was bustling due to the important guests, with feasting in the front courtyard and servants on standby in the back. She encountered many people who treated her with respect, believing her to be a skilled practitioner. Mingshū nodded in response, feeling slightly guilty for playing the role of a Taoist so convincingly.
She sat under an osmanthus tree outside the long corridor, watching people come and go.
“Ding Xuan, how do I look?” a sultry female voice suddenly asked.
Mingshū looked up to see several people approaching. Ding Xuan led the way, his head bowed respectfully. The scarred half of his face was hidden, while the visible half appeared quite handsome.
One could imagine he must have been a good-looking man before.
The speaker was Yan Shao, the Wei family’s only concubine. She was dressed provocatively in a red peony-patterned bodice and a sheer outer robe. Her high bun was adorned with large, vibrant silk flowers, and her face was thickly made up with intricate designs – an outfit unbefitting a proper concubine.
She followed Ding Xuan with alluring grace, her misty eyes full of unspoken words that could melt hearts.
Ding Xuan, however, kept walking straight ahead, replying simply, “Your attire is naturally beautiful, madam.”
“Don’t all men prefer this style of dress? What do you think, Ding Xuan?” Yan Shao persisted. Seeing he wouldn’t respond further, she laughed, “Oh, I forgot. You’re not a man…”
Her laughter was tinged with a cruel satisfaction.
The group quickly passed by and disappeared from Mingshū’s sight. She remained seated under the osmanthus tree, contemplating by lamplight.
The women in this household all suffered.
After some time, Ding Xuan returned from outside, still walking hurriedly with his head down. Mingshū called out to him.
“Taoist Xuanqing? Why are you here?” He turned to look at her, his eyes glancing up while his head remained bowed.
“Ghost hunting,” Mingshū replied concisely.
She approached the corridor railing with her lantern, smiling at Ding Xuan. He stood below, separated by the railing, his face expressionless. “Have you caught the ‘ghost’ yet?” he asked.
“Almost,” Mingshū said, watching him intently. “I heard you joined the household three years ago?”
“Yes. I had an accident three years ago, and Commander Wei helped me. He took me in, sheltering me,” Ding Xuan replied calmly.
This information was easily verifiable, so there was no point in hiding it.
“Commander Wei seems to trust you a lot,” Mingshū continued. “What do you think of him?”
Ding Xuan’s brow furrowed imperceptibly.
“I’m just a servant. Master Wei is the master. Servants have no right to judge their masters. I have urgent matters to attend to and can’t accompany you in ghost hunting. Please excuse me,” he said, bowing to leave.
Mingshū pressed on: “I saw that ‘ghost’ yesterday. It ‘floated’ from the rockery to the corridor and vanished. The path from the corridor to the back courtyard is guarded by night watchmen, except for one place – Master Wei’s side courtyard.”
Ding Xuan paused mid-step.
“The Wei family’s old master has been bedridden for years, paralyzed and unable to speak. He’s been moved to the side courtyard for peace. I suspect that’s where the creature’s lair is. What do you think I’d find if I went ghost hunting there now?”
Wei Xian and Wei Chao’s father had suffered a stroke last year, leaving him paralyzed. While maids usually cared for him, tasks like bathing and turning him required a male servant’s strength. Wei Xian was strict about access to the inner quarters, so ordinary servants couldn’t freely enter. Only Ding Xuan, due to his unique status, could attend to the old master without arousing suspicion.
At these words, Ding Xuan whirled around to face Mingshū.
His face looked frightening in the firelight.
“Life in this mansion must be hard, isn’t it?” Mingshū changed the subject. “Is Madam Yan Shao being sent to the front courtyard to entertain the guest?”
Ding Xuan turned away without answering.
“Wei Xian redeemed her, waiting for a day when she’d be useful like this, right?” Mingshū lowered her head, stroking her lantern. “Sometimes, human hearts can be more terrifying than ghosts.”
She smiled again: “I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll head back now. Farewell.”
Without waiting for Ding Xuan to respond, she took her lantern and returned to the second branch’s quarters.
The lights in the front courtyard remained lit, and there was some commotion outside. Liu’s complaints could be heard, seemingly scolding her husband… Mingshū smiled and lay down fully clothed.
Thinking about seeing her brother tomorrow, she was in good spirits and quickly fell asleep.
At dawn, Mingshū was awakened by panicked voices outside.
“Madam, it’s terrible! Something… something has happened!” A man’s voice rang out, startling everyone in the courtyard.
A servant boy rushed in, shouting outside the room.
Male servants weren’t allowed in the inner quarters without permission, especially this early. It must be urgent for someone from the outer courtyard to barge in. Liu startled awake, didn’t even bother to fix her hair before throwing on a robe and lifting the curtain. “What’s all this fuss about so early in the morning?” she demanded.
Mingshū had also come out, standing at the door watching.
The servant boy knelt on the ground, stuttering, “Ma… Madam, something terrible has happened…”
“Spit it out! What happened?” Liu was anxious, almost ready to grab the boy’s collar to make him finish.
“A death… There’s been a death… Our master… he drowned… in the pond in the east garden…”
“What did you say?!” Liu staggered back two steps, nearly falling.
Mingshū, who had been leaning against the doorframe, straightened up involuntarily—Wei Xian was dead?
“Then… what about the second master?” Liu asked after a moment, remembering her husband.
Wei Chao had also been entertaining guests in the front courtyard last night and hadn’t returned.
“The second master… he drank too much last night and is resting in the front courtyard. He hasn’t woken up yet,” the servant boy replied.
“That good-for-nothing!” Liu cursed, feeling anxious, angry, and scared. She turned back into the room, ordering her maids to help her dress and do her hair immediately. She needed to go to the front courtyard herself.
Mingshū had already left for the east garden.
—
It was still early, and the air was cool.
The pond in the east garden wasn’t large, surrounded by rockery and greenery. It wasn’t lotus season yet, so the pond was empty except for a few koi fish swimming occasionally.
When Mingshū arrived, many people had already gathered around the pond.
A body was floating on the water’s surface, with Ding Xuan leading the Wei family servants in retrieving it. The body had been pulled to the shore, its clothing and face visible—it was indeed Wei Xian, whom she had glimpsed briefly last night.
Besides Ding Xuan and the Wei family servants, Wei Zhuo was also present with two personal guards, intently watching the body retrieval. Mingshū observed that he was still in full military attire, sword at his waist, his face stern and emanating an aura of authority that made people keep their distance. He seemed a completely different person from the Uncle Wei she had met in Shengmin Ward.
Yan Shao was also at the scene, hugging herself as if cold. Her makeup and clothes were the same as last night, but her alluring demeanor had been replaced by fear and anxiety.
Mingshū knew that last night, to entertain Wei Zhuo, Wei Xian had not only called in courtesans but also sent his concubine, Yan Shao, to the front courtyard. She wondered what had transpired during the night, as neither Wei Zhuo nor Yan Shao seemed to have changed.
“Careful, careful! Quick, lift him!” someone called from the front.
The body was finally brought ashore, and laid wet on the ground. People around began to cry out, “Master Wei!” The wailing quickly spread.
The cries were disturbing. Mingshū heard Wei Zhuo coldly command, “Silence!”
His few words immediately quieted everyone. He then asked, “Have the authorities been notified?”
Ding Xuan replied, “Someone has been sent to report it.”
Wei Zhuo nodded, personally crouching beside Wei Xian’s body to examine it briefly before standing up. “Everyone leave the east garden immediately. Ding Xuan, find some people to guard all entrances and exits. Don’t let anyone in.” He then ordered his guards, “Guard the poolside, protect the scene. Wait for the officials from the magistrate’s office to investigate. During this time, no one is to touch Wei Xian’s body. Go wake up all the Wei family members and bring the person who first discovered the body to the front courtyard.”
These orders were given methodically, and no one dared to question them.
As Wei Zhuo prepared to leave, he turned and saw Mingshū standing in the crowd.
He frowned and beckoned to her.
Mingshū quickly ran to his side, walking alongside him towards the garden exit.
Wei Zhuo’s steps were steady, his light armor making subtle sounds as he moved, exuding the aura of a great general, full of power.
“Wei…” Mingshū hesitated, then said, “Marshal.”
Wei Zhuo glanced at her. “No need for formalities.”
“Uncle Wei,” Mingshū corrected herself.
“Why are you at the Wei residence?” Wei Zhuo asked her.
“I was hired to investigate the haunting in the Wei family,” Mingshū replied honestly.
“Haunting?” Wei Zhuo looked puzzled.
Mingshū briefly explained the ghostly occurrences in the Wei family’s inner quarters, then added, “I wonder if Wei Xian’s death is related to this. He was drinking with you last night, wasn’t he, Uncle Wei?”
Hearing this, Wei Zhuo let out a cold laugh, seemingly mocking Wei Xian. “I came to the Wei residence on official business. He was indeed drinking with me, but…” He paused, then continued, “He left halfway through.”
“Do you remember what time it was, Uncle Wei?” Mingshū asked.
“Around the middle of the Hai hour (9-11 PM). I heard the night watch drums, and he left a while after that,” Wei Zhuo answered, then looked at Mingshū. “Little girl, why are you asking this? Don’t get involved in the Wei family’s troubles.”
Mingshū chuckled, about to speak when someone reported from outside, “The officials from the magistrate’s office have arrived.”
Despite the early hour, Chief Constable Dong Chengwu arrived with two young constables, Ying Xun, and Wang Shang, along with a coroner and other minor officials. The magistrate’s office hadn’t officially opened yet.
“Marshal, we’ve notified the Assistant Magistrate. Fearing scene contamination, I brought my men to investigate first. The Assistant Magistrate will arrive shortly,” Dong Chengwu reported to Wei Zhuo.
Given the deceased’s status and Wei Zhuo’s involvement, the case demanded the Assistant Magistrate’s attention.
Wei Zhuo nodded, directing the constables to the scene. He told Dong Chengwu, “Wei Xian was involved in military secrets. You can’t remove his body; examine it here. I’ll speak with the Assistant Magistrate and stay to assist in the investigation.”
Mingshū, sensing she shouldn’t overhear more, quietly retreated to the inner courtyard.
The women of the household had been awakened and gathered in the courtyard, whispering anxiously. Du Wenhui sat dazed in the flower hall with Xu Shi, her eyes blank and tearless. Liu Shi from the second branch wailed the loudest, rushing into the hall smelling of medicinal oils, crying, “He was fine yesterday, how could he be gone so suddenly…”
With no one in charge, the inner courtyard fell into disarray.
Mingshū chatted briefly with two servants responsible for cleaning the east garden area. Soon, Ding Xuan arrived with Constable Ying Xun.
“Madams, this is Constable Ying Xun from the magistrate’s office. He’s here to question the women of the household,” Ding Xuan announced.
Mingshū observed Ying Xun, a stern-faced young man in his early twenties wearing a constable’s uniform with a sword at his waist.
She recognized his name from her previous encounter with yamen runners at Songlin Academy, where they had mentioned a young detective named Ying Xun.
—
Ying Xun gathered everyone in the inner courtyard, had Ding Xuan confirm all were present, and forbade conversation. He then began questioning individuals in a side hall adjacent to the courtyard.
Those cleared were released; others were detained. With many servants to question, the process was lengthy. The Wei family women were questioned first, others later.
Mingshū waited in the corridor, knowing everyone was a suspect, including herself. She realized she wouldn’t be able to see her brother today or leave a safety sign for Lu Chang, which worried her.
By evening, it was finally Mingshū’s turn.
As she entered the side hall, Ying Xun coldly asked, “Are you the self-proclaimed exorcist from Mount Zhongnan, Tian Xuanqing?”
“Tian Xuanqing isn’t my real name. I’m Lu Mingshū,” she replied honestly.
Ying Xun smirked, “A charlatan conwoman, why stop the charade now?”
“I’m not a fraud. I came to the Wei mansion on request,” Mingshū began to explain.
Ying Xun interrupted, “I know. You were invited by Liu Shi from the second branch, correct?”
“Yes, the Second Madam asked me to come, but that was for—”
“Silence! Answer only what I ask, no excuses!” Ying Xun cut her off again. “So you admit to conspiring with the second branch?”
Mingshū, frustrated, replied, “I don’t understand your meaning, Constable Ying.”
“Wei Chao is heavily suspected of fratricide. As a charlatan brought in by him and his wife, you must be involved. Take her away and guard her. I’ll interrogate her properly after questioning the others!” Ying Xun ordered.
“Constable Ying, you’re jumping to conclusions without even questioning me!” Mingshū protested, confused about Wei Chao’s sudden suspect status.
“Regardless of your involvement in this case, you’re certainly guilty of impersonating a Taoist practitioner. I’ve seen plenty of frauds like you. Take her away!” Ying Xun signaled to his men.
As the yamen runners seized Mingshū, she struggled and angrily shouted, “Let go of me!”
“Behave yourself!” a runner barked, showing no gentleness.
As Mingshū struggled helplessly, a voice suddenly called out, “Wait!”
She looked up to see Wei Zhuo approaching.
—
At dusk, a horseman galloped from the palace gates, carrying the imperial list of successful candidates from the palace examination.
The day-long examination had concluded, with rankings determined on the spot. The results would soon be announced to the world.
Gradually, candidates emerged from the palace, the top three wearing crimson robes and surrounded by admirers. They had entered at dawn, and underwent written tests, with ten selected for an audience with the emperor, who then personally determined the top three ranks.
The golden list will be posted tomorrow morning, with the formal announcement ceremony two days later.
This year’s spring examination had produced a rare “Three Elements” top scholar, news that would surely create a stir throughout Bianjing once spread.
Lu Chang hurried home on horseback, eager to see his mother and Mingshū.
He arrived after nightfall to find the house lit and his mother, Zeng Shi, waiting in the hall while embroidering.
Excited, he entered but didn’t see Mingshū.
—
At the Wei mansion, lanterns hung high and the gates were tightly shut. No one inside would sleep tonight.
Song Qingzhao handed his horse’s reins to a servant and adjusted his attire before approaching the Wei family’s main gate.
“If Madam sees that you’ve achieved second place and came personally to escort her home, she’ll surely forgive you,” the servant said.
Song Qingzhao remained silent, suddenly stopping ten paces from the gate.
From the other end of the street, someone was approaching.
The three-day period had ended, and Mingshū hadn’t returned. Lu Chang had come to the Wei mansion and found no safety sign from Mingshū.
He intended to enter and retrieve her.
Under the lamplight, Lu Chang and Song Qingzhao, both wearing crimson robes, came face to face.
One came for his sister, the other for his mother.