The serial killer who had claimed lives across five years with such brutal methods had finally been caught. The Capital Prefecture had not had this kind of glory in a long time — not since four years ago, when the Huang Caiwei case had left them thoroughly disgraced. In recent days, carriages and visitors came in a constant stream to the Capital Prefecture’s gates. The Court of Judicial Review, the Ministry of Justice, and the Censorate had all sent representatives, and even the Empress herself had dispatched a female official from her entourage to learn about the case’s details.

These days, even the sweepers in the Capital Prefecture walked with their heads held high and their chests puffed out; the officials directly involved in the case were even more full of themselves. The Jing Zhaoyiin had distinguished guests from morning to night, so busy he barely had time to set foot on the ground.

While the Capital Prefecture was in a state of lively commotion, merchant caravans from across the country who had come to celebrate the festival had also arrived in Chang’an. Tea houses and wine establishments everywhere were buzzing with discussion of the murder case. A violent bandit posing as a monk to lure and kill the daughters of noble families — just the premise alone was sensational enough. In the teahouses, storytellers had specially adapted the case into a tale, narrating in animated tones how the false monk had disguised himself and committed his murders.

Every seat in the establishments was filled. Men and women, young and old alike, all listened in rapt fascination. Ming Huashang sat in a private booth, listening as the storyteller below proclaimed, “Continuing from where we left off — after the false monk had fooled the authorities and their constables, he behaved himself for four peaceful years, reading sutras without incident, until his wicked heart stirred again. His eye fell upon a famous courtesan from the pleasure quarters who had come to burn incense! This woman could sing and dance, and her beauty was exceptional — a single piece of her pipa music was enough to set countless young men of noble birth quarreling over her. He, a mere monk, how was he to win the lady’s favor and lure her step by step into his trap…”

Ming Huashang set down her pastries and said, “Zhao Cai, let’s go.”

Zhao Cai had been listening with deep absorption — frightened, and yet unable to stop. She heard Ming Huashang’s words and was briefly at a loss, asking, “My lady, it’s just getting to the most important part. Why do you want to leave now?”

Ming Huashang put down her copper coins, rose to her feet, and smoothed the white rabbit-fur trim at her cuffs, saying in a low voice that was almost inaudible, “It’s all made up. What’s there to listen to?”

Ming Huashang put on her cloak and quickly descended the stairs. Zhao Cai, holding the hand warmer, caught up from behind and asked, “My lady, where are we going next? I heard that a new shipment of fabrics arrived at the Xiuli district — they shimmer with iridescent colors in the lantern light, looking different from every angle. They’re specially meant for the Lantern Festival celebrations. Shall we go take a look?”

Now that the serial killer had been caught, the women of noble families finally dared to venture outdoors again. The trade in both the Eastern and Western Markets had grown lively, and all the clothing shops and jewelry stores were now displaying new styles, busily preparing festive wear for the New Year and the Lantern Festival. Ming Huashang stood on the street and looked around for a moment, then suddenly said, “Let’s not go there for now. Qingchan Temple is not far from here — let’s go take a look at Qingchan Temple.”

Qingchan Temple was the temple where the abbot of Purdu Temple had lodged on the day he came into Chang’an to give a dharma lecture. Unfortunately, the people of Chang’an had long forgotten such details. Zhao Cai summoned the coachman and in a clear, crisp voice gave instructions to head to Qingchan Temple. As she helped Ming Huashang into the carriage, she muttered, “My lady, you’ve never been the devout sort. What made you think to visit Qingchan Temple today?”

Indeed — a group of young women, with free time on their hands, why would they be frequently visiting temples instead of going to look at clothes and jewelry? Ming Huashang, deep in thought, brushed the question aside. “Just going to have a look.”

The false monk’s murders were the hottest topic in Chang’an right now. The explanation the Capital Prefecture had given was plausible and coherent; the timeline held up completely. Yet not a single person had explained why the murderer would dig out bones.

Perhaps they had been too rushed to close the case and hadn’t thought about such details — or perhaps they had thought of it but simply didn’t care.

Catching the murderer was all that mattered. What did it matter why he had killed? Who cared what a deranged psychopath was thinking?

But Ming Huashang could not accept that conclusion. With the Jing Zhaoyiin having already closed the case, she could no longer rely on the power of the authorities, and could only investigate in her own way. These past several days she had been moving through Chang’an, visiting the places that Cheng Siyue and Huang Caiwei had loved to frequent in life, trying to find some trace of a clue.

Today Ming Huashang had originally planned to go have a look at the clothing shop Cheng Siyue had most frequented. But after listening to the storyteller in the teahouse, she had changed her mind on impulse and decided to go to Qingchan Temple instead.

The digging out of bones was definitely a crucial element in the murderer’s killing fantasy. Without resolving that inconsistency, she could not construct a portrait of the killer that would satisfy even herself. A few days ago she had heard Ming Huazhang say that inside Purdu Temple, sacred relics made from human bones had been found — though with Cen Hu’s fall from the cliff, all the bones had been smashed to fragments and were no longer identifiable.

A vague idea flickered through Ming Huashang’s mind. Perhaps she ought to visit a Buddhist temple and look around — she might find the answer there.

With the year’s end approaching, the incense traffic at the Buddhist temples was flourishing as well. When Ming Huashang arrived at Qingchan Temple, people were coming and going in lively streams. Ming Huashang brought Zhao Cai to the Main Hall of the Great Hero. Before the Buddha statue, many women knelt devoutly, praying for good weather and peaceful families in the coming year; the queue at the fortune-telling stalls was long and winding.

Zhao Cai looked on anxiously. “My lady, there are almost no more protection amulets left. We should hurry and get in line too.”

The fortune slips drawn were not all auspicious ones; inevitably, after the fortunes were read, many worshippers would be dissatisfied. At such moments, the temples would thoughtfully offer protection amulets, good-luck charms, and talismans for those undertaking journeys, to help worshippers avert misfortune and fulfill their wishes.

Ming Huashang glanced at the fortune-reading stalls, which were particularly popular, and said, “No hurry. Let’s have a look around the main hall first.”

Ming Huashang remembered Ming Huazhang mentioning that when the abbot of Purdu Temple had come to Qingchan Temple, the dharma assembly had been held in the main hall. She walked slowly around the hall, working carefully to compare what she saw against the records she recalled from the case files.

According to the files, on the day of the assembly, the Purdu Temple abbot had given his lecture before the great Buddha statue. Ordinary worshippers sat on cushions to listen, while those of more refined tastes listened in the side chambers along the two flanks. Ming Huashang walked to either side of the main hall and sure enough found small incense booths partitioned off by wooden boards.

Ming Huashang stopped a passing novice monk and asked, “Young master monk, I’d like to find somewhere to rest my feet. Are visitors allowed into these side rooms?”

The novice pressed his palms together, recited a brief Buddhist phrase to Ming Huashang, and said, “The Buddha is compassionate and all-embracing — of course. Please, honored guest.”

After thanking him, Ming Huashang entered one of the side rooms to look around. The interior was arranged just as the case files had described. What disappointed Ming Huashang most was that none of the side rooms had windows — once a person entered, short of walking through walls, there was no way to leave unnoticed.

It seemed Ming Huazhang’s conclusion had been correct. If he hadn’t personally inspected the site and confirmed that there was no way to leave covertly, he would never have been able to directly eliminate the suspect who most closely matched Ming Huashang’s profile.

Zhao Cai followed her inside, thoroughly bewildered. “My lady, are you tired? If you’re tired, let’s go back to the residence. It’s cold in here, and the space is so cramped — how can you sit comfortably?”

Coming to pay respects to the Buddha was hardly supposed to be about comfort. Ming Huashang knelt down on a prayer cushion and even patted the spot beside her, gesturing for Zhao Cai to join her. “Since we’re here, we might as well get a feel for it. Come sit.”

Zhao Cai’s eyebrows shot up. Unwillingly, she sat down. A sheer saffron-colored gauze curtain hung at the front of the side room; from inside, looking outward, the view was like looking at flowers in a mist — indistinct and dreamlike, like seeking enlightenment in a dream with truth and illusion blurred beyond telling.

Ming Huashang looked up at the great Buddha towering before them, and at the endless stream of people moving about the hall, bustling at who knew what — and murmured to herself, “Looked at this way, the Buddha is enormously vast, and human beings are terribly small.”

Zhao Cai thought privately that this was quite a statement, and joked, “My lady, you’ve been growing more and more enlightened lately. First you suddenly took up practicing your painting on your own initiative, and now you’re quoting Buddhist wisdom. You’re not going to turn into a learned lady, are you?”

Ming Huashang gave her a sideways glare and said with mock reproach, “Less of your cheek. Watch yourself, or I’ll make a vow to the Buddha right now to offer you up as a sacrifice, in exchange for limitless fortune and prosperity for the rest of my days.”

Zhao Cai had been enduring Ming Huashang’s jabs for so long she had grown thoroughly used to it, and merely laughed in response. “If sacrificing this servant could transform my lady, I’d consider it an honor. The only concern is that the Buddha might not be willing to strike such a losing bargain.”

Ming Huashang reached out in mock fury to swat her, and Zhao Cai laughingly dodged aside. The two of them squabbled for a while until any semblance of solemn piety in the atmosphere had completely vanished. Ming Huashang found she could no longer recapture the sense of transcendence she had felt while gazing at the Buddha statue, and simply stood up, saying to Zhao Cai, “You stay here for now. I’m going to step outside and look around.”

Ming Huashang had only meant to go out to observe the sightlines and see whether there were any blind spots — whether something like the visual trick Yu Qiong had performed at the Tianxiang Tower, which had fooled everyone’s eyes, might be possible here as well. But she had barely taken a few steps outside when a gust of cold wind swept in. The Buddha hall had no braziers burning, and the great doors stood wide open, making the chill all the more penetrating. Ming Huashang was frozen stiff and could not bear to stay standing; she turned to go back and find Zhao Cai for the hand warmer, took a couple of steps in that direction, and then stopped in a peculiar way.

She looked more carefully, making sure her eyes were not deceiving her, and then ran quickly back to the side room. Zhao Cai was inside rubbing her hands together against the cold. She looked up in surprise to see Ming Huashang return. “My lady, what is it?”

Ming Huashang lifted the sheer curtain, then let it fall, then lifted it again — repeating this several times — before saying, “I’m not seeing things, am I? You’re wearing all red today, but when the curtain falls and I look at you from outside, why do you appear to be wearing orange?”

Zhao Cai watched her mistress keep fussing with the curtain as though she had taken some strange medicine, and rose silently to her feet. “My lady, what on earth is going on with you?”

They were in a Buddhist temple — surely there wasn’t anything unsavory lurking about. But she was beginning to feel that the Second Young Miss’s mind was in an increasingly peculiar state.

Ming Huashang shook her head, and suddenly thought of something. She quickly said to Zhao Cai, “Zhao Cai, go outside and tell me what color my clothing looks.”

Zhao Cai was quite worried about the state of Ming Huashang’s mind, but she went outside anyway. After looking for a moment, she said, “It’s the same outfit as before — except the outer jacket looks a bit brighter in color, more of a crimson shade.”

Ming Huashang looked down at her own vivid pink wide-sleeved outer jacket, and a flash of sudden understanding shot through her mind.

So yellow gauze layered over red looked orange, and layered over vivid pink looked crimson. The color one saw from the outside was not necessarily the true color of the garment underneath.

She remembered Ming Huazhang saying that of the two suspects matching the profile, Xu Ji had been asleep in a pleasure house on the twenty-second day of the tenth month, while Lu Du had been listening to the dharma lecture at Qingchan Temple. Many people had seen Lu Du upon his arrival, and his figure could be clearly made out in the side room throughout the assembly — and so the Capital Prefecture had eliminated Lu Du as a suspect.

But with this gauze curtain in place, a person’s face would only be visible as a blurry outline, and the color of their clothing would be distorted. On what basis, then, could anyone be certain that the figure inside the side room was actually Lu Du?

Zhao Cai found Qingchan Temple rather chilly. Since they weren’t having their fortunes read, there was little point in lingering — she was just about to suggest to Ming Huashang that they leave, when she suddenly saw Ming Huashang dash out of the side room, grab a passing novice monk, and ask, “Young master monk, did your temple hold a dharma assembly on the twenty-second day of the tenth month?”

The novice was startled by Ming Huashang, and nodded once he recovered. “Yes. Our abbot and the abbot of Purdu Temple outside the city are on very good terms, and that day our abbot invited him into the city to give a lecture.”

“Do you recall whether, among the worshippers who came to listen that day, there was someone named Lu Du? He would be about this tall, with a cultured and refined appearance, very presentable-looking — he currently serves as a doctor of learning at the Imperial Academy.”

The novice made a sound of recognition, and his gaze at Ming Huashang filled with knowing understanding. “Has the honored female guest also come looking for Patron Lu?”

“Also?” Ming Huashang raised an eyebrow and asked, “Has someone come asking about him before?”

The novice looked weary, as if this happened all the time. “Patron Lu is of distinguished lineage, refined and elegant, and deeply versed in Buddhist teachings — he is very well known in this area. Young ladies frequently come to the temple under the pretext of worship just to catch a glimpse of him. Honored guest, this is a place of peace and purity. If Patron Lu has no interest in worldly ties, no matter how many times you happen to cross his path, it will be of no avail. I hope you may see through the illusions of the heart and let go at an early date.”

The novice had the expression of one who had seen through everything — it was clear this sort of thing had happened many times before. Ming Huashang assumed the manner of a young woman nursing a secret infatuation, offering an awkward and indignant smile. “Has Doctor Lu come to Qingchan Temple recently?”

“Now that you mention it, Patron Lu hasn’t come in quite a long while. He is probably rather busy lately and can’t find the time.”

Ming Huashang asked again, “Did Doctor Lu only come that one day, on the twenty-second of the tenth month? What was he wearing that day?”

The novice was helpless. This young woman was remarkably persistent. The usual young ladies who came asking would have been too embarrassed to press any further by this point — but this young miss was something else entirely, pressing on without relenting, even asking what Patron Lu had been wearing.

The novice replied with difficulty, “Honored guest, that was nearly two months ago — how could I possibly remember?”

Ming Huashang was somewhat disappointed, but still refused to give up. “Did he have attendants with him that day?”

Ming Huashang had not even expected an answer to this question, yet this particular point the novice was quite certain of; without any apparent hesitation he said, “A person of Patron Lu’s standing would naturally bring attendants when going out.”

Ming Huashang made a sound of surprise and asked with suspicion, “You can’t even remember what he wore, yet you remember he had attendants?”

The novice said helplessly, “Because Patron Lu has a close relationship with our abbot and has a dedicated meditation room in this temple. That day, Patron Lu did not wish to mingle with the people outside, so his carriage was driven directly into the inner courtyard. When Patron Lu left, I even helped him hold the horse — that is why I remember it so clearly. Come to think of it, this place was originally Patron Lu’s residence. He donated it to the Buddha four years ago, and that is how Qingchan Temple came to be.”

Ming Huashang’s eyelids gave a heavy jolt, and her heart beat with such excitement she felt it might leap out of her chest. She immediately drew Cheng Siyue’s portrait from her sleeve and asked, “Have you seen this person?”

The novice looked at the portrait, furrowed his brow slightly, and his gaze toward Ming Huashang took on a hint of suspicion.

Ming Huazhang had surely sent people here before; and with a death having occurred not long ago, the novice had likely grown wary of her. Ming Huashang immediately adopted the air of a spoiled and willful young mistress, saying haughtily, “She’s my rival in love. I’ve heard she often sneaks over to meet Doctor Lu in secret. You really haven’t seen her?”

So that was the reason — the novice’s gaze at Ming Huashang became increasingly difficult to describe, and he shook his head. “Qingchan Temple receives so many female visitors every day. This servant truly cannot remember.”

Understandable — even this novice had no clear memory of Lu Du, who was a frequent visitor to the temple; how much less so an unfamiliar face. Ming Huashang was not discouraged. She put away the portrait and, still in her imperious manner, declared, “I don’t believe you. Take me to the meditation room where Doctor Lu stayed that day — I want to see it myself.”

“This…” The novice revealed a troubled expression. Seeing this, Ming Huashang said, “You clearly claimed that the Buddha has compassion for all living beings and treats everyone equally — so how can it be that I’m not allowed to take a look at a room in the temple?”

The two matters were clearly unrelated, but the novice had no recourse against a willful and difficult young woman from a noble household. He pressed his palms together in a bow and said, “Amitabha, the Buddha is compassionate. Honored guest, please follow this humble monk.”

The novice, embodying the dignified manner of the Buddhist tradition, neither became angry nor flustered when faced with unreasonable behavior, and calmly led the way. Zhao Cai hurried over, staring at Ming Huashang in astonishment. “My lady, what are you doing?”

Ming Huashang subtly shot Zhao Cai a warning glare and lowered her voice. “No matter what happens, do not say a word — I have a plan.”

Affecting the air of someone out to catch a cheating lover, Ming Huashang followed behind the novice with an aggressive air. When they arrived before a certain courtyard, Ming Huashang saw the gleaming copper lock hanging there and her expression cracked slightly. “Why is there a lock on it?”

The novice recited an “Amitabha” and said, “This humble monk only said I would bring you to see it. I said nothing about letting you inside.”

Ming Huashang took a deep breath, held herself in check, and then asked, “So this was where Lu Du stayed when he came that day?”

“Yes.”

“Did any woman enter?”

Ming Huashang’s questions were becoming more and more outrageous. The novice kept his gaze downcast and his palms pressed together, and did not respond. Ming Huashang pursed her lips and asked, “After he arrived at Qingchan Temple that day, did he go out at any point?”

“He did not. Patron Lu rested in the meditation room, and when the dharma assembly began, he listened in the Main Hall. After it concluded, he boarded his carriage and left — he never went anywhere else.”

This sort of answer was exactly what the Capital Prefecture would have obtained before, and even Ming Huazhang had not been able to extract more. Ming Huashang no longer harbored much hope. She walked around the area and reluctantly made to leave. After two steps she suddenly stopped and turned back. “And his servants? Did they ever go out?”

The novice paused briefly, then said with resignation, “A servant — how would we keep track of a servant? Honored guest, this humble monk has many tasks to attend to. If you have nothing else to ask, this humble monk will take his leave.”

Ming Huashang knew that in the novice’s eyes she was probably a domineering, unreasonable, and thoroughly miserly spoiled daughter, and he must have been thoroughly fed up with receiving her. Having played the part of a love-struck young noblewoman, oblivious to all else, her eyes fixed on the courtyard of her supposed beloved — once the novice departed, the infatuated haze in Ming Huashang’s eyes receded like a tide going out, leaving only something cold and clear.

Zhao Cai had been suppressing herself for a long time, and at last could hold back no longer. “My lady, you haven’t actually developed feelings for Doctor Lu, have you? He’s of the Fanyang Lu clan, which is genuinely a good family — but I’ve heard he’s already past twenty. Isn’t he a bit old?”

Ming Huashang gave Zhao Cai an exasperated knock on the forehead. “Don’t talk nonsense. What could he possibly compare to Second Brother? Do you think I would give him a second look? And remember — not a word of this to Second Brother when we get back!”

Zhao Cai didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed, and sighed. “Understood. My lady, this servant doesn’t mean to overstep, but you are at the right age to talk about marriage, and you really can’t measure everyone against the Second Young Master. If you ask this servant, that son of the Marquis of Jiang’an from a few days ago seemed quite promising.”

Ming Huashang stared at her as though she had heard something from a ghost story. “Who did you say?”

“Young Master Jiang has a fine appearance and an outstanding background — he’s perfectly suitable. And I was even worried that he might not think well enough of you! If you can’t even take to Young Master Jiang, and insist on finding someone just like the Second Young Master, then the only option would be Young Master Xie Jichuan of the Chen Commandery Xie clan. He’s of the Chen Commandery Xie clan — his standards are probably even higher. My lady, while you are wonderful in countless ways, you do need to be practical.”

Zhao Cai was very tactfully expressing that her mistress was something of a failure, and ought not to aim too high. Ming Huashang sniffed with indignation. “Who says I can’t? I intend to find someone exactly like Second Brother.”