Ming Huashang and Zhao Cai bickered all the way to the outside of Qingchan Temple. The moment Ming Huashang stepped out the door, she caught the clean, fragrant aroma of roasting chestnuts. She and Zhao Cai quickly made up, and together they went to the vendor’s stall to buy some.

The man roasting the chestnuts was a lean old fellow — his hair was already streaked with grey, but his arms were still very strong, turning the chestnuts with great vigor. Ming Huashang, growing bored waiting, struck up a conversation with the old man for lack of anything better to do. “Grandfather, are you at this spot outside Qingchan Temple every day?”

“That’s right. There are always a lot of people here — many young ladies come to burn incense with their elders, and when they come out they always find it hard to resist buying a snack. I get to ride on a little of that good fortune too.”

Ming Huashang vaguely felt that the old man was talking about her. She touched her nose, drew out Cheng Siyue’s portrait from her sleeve, and asked, “Grandfather, have you ever seen this woman?”

The old man was busy with his chestnuts and spared it a quick glance, then asked, “Why are you asking about some young woman’s whereabouts?”

Ming Huashang had only asked on a passing impulse, without expecting anyone to recognize the woman — but this old man’s tone sounded as though he actually knew something. Ming Huashang felt a jolt of alertness inwardly and quickly said, “Someone told me that my intended was seeing someone else behind my back and often came to Qingchan Temple to meet in secret with his sweetheart. I was uneasy, so I came to ask around.”

Zhao Cai looked on in baffled confusion, glancing at Ming Huashang in astonishment. Ming Huashang quietly pinched the back of Zhao Cai’s hand, signaling her not to speak. The old man let out a sound of recognition, unsurprised, and said, “I see — so that’s it. I was wondering how a young woman who clearly seemed to come from a decent background could be acting so furtively. She was coming to meet a lover on the sly. Young miss, if no betrothal gifts have been exchanged yet, you’d be better off calling off the engagement. A man who’s tangled up with other women before the wedding — things aren’t likely to go well after it either.”

Ming Huashang’s pupils widened. She hadn’t expected to guess right.

The old man had seen Cheng Siyue. So on the day Cheng Siyue vanished from the Eastern Market, she had also come to Qingchan Temple?

In that case, the murderer absolutely could not be Cen Hu. Cen Hu had refused his fellow monks, insisted on staying outside the city against their wishes — there was no logical reason for him to go to the added trouble of coming to Qingchan Temple to kill Cheng Siyue. The only people who had been at Qingchan Temple that day, apart from the monks of Purdu Temple, were Lu Du.

Ming Huashang quickly asked, “She was really there? When exactly?”

“Can’t say exactly when. You can ask around with the monks at Qingchan Temple about when the last dharma assembly started. I remember there was a dharma assembly at Qingchan Temple that day, and she arrived after it had already begun. There weren’t many people at the door at that point. She was looking left and right like a guilty thief — it was conspicuous enough that I took notice of her.”

Ming Huashang’s heartbeat quickened with excitement; she kept up her cover as someone trying to catch a cheating lover and asked, “What was she wearing that day?”

“I don’t remember much — something greenish-blue, I think.”

Greenish-blue? Ming Huashang frowned. The clothes Cheng Siyue had been found wearing were clearly red. Could it mean that she had changed her clothing somewhere along the way?

That would explain why the Capital Prefecture had asked so many questions yet could find no one on the route who had any knowledge of where Cheng Siyue had gone. She had changed her clothing, but the Capital Prefecture had been asking about her based on her clothing and height — no wonder they couldn’t find anyone who had seen her.

Ming Huashang thanked the old man and ran back the way they had come in a hurry. The old man called after her, “Hey, young miss — don’t you want your chestnuts?”

“Zhao Cai, grab the chestnuts — we need to get to the Eastern Market right away!”

Ming Huashang rushed back to the Eastern Market and went from shop to shop asking at the clothing stores Cheng Siyue had been known to frequent. At last, one shop owner said that Lady Cheng had indeed visited their shop on the twenty-second day of the tenth month — she had come without her maid, purchased a greenish-blue long skirt, and left.

The great stone that had weighed on Ming Huashang for two months came crashing down, and she knew that matters had now, at last, settled into place. But she still needed more corroboration. Ming Huashang set off at a brisk pace to the Duke Chengguo’s residence. Without even pausing to greet the Duchess, the moment she was inside the door she asked, pressing straight to the point, “Is the First Young Master of the Cheng household in?”

Thanks to Ming Huashang’s formidable social abilities, the servants of the Duke Chengguo’s residence still remembered her. A young manservant answered in some confusion; a moment later the equally confused First Young Master of the Cheng family appeared, asking in surprise, “Second Young Miss Ming, you’re looking for me?”

After Cheng Siyue’s death, the entire Duke Chengguo’s household had been plunged into deep grief. Cheng Da had taken leave from the Imperial Academy and had been staying at home during this period. Ming Huashang had no time for lengthy explanations. “First Young Master, on the twenty-second day of the tenth month — the day Cheng Siyue went to the Imperial Academy to find you — who was teaching your class?”

Cheng Da looked at her with puzzlement. “Doctor Lu.”

So it really was him! Ming Huashang pressed on: “What was he wearing that day?”

“Doctor Lu was giving a lecture, so naturally he wore his green official robes.”

“Had your younger sister ever mentioned Doctor Lu before?”

Cheng Da seemed to sense something. His expression grew solemn as he asked, “Miss Ming, tell me the truth — does this have something to do with the person who killed Siyue?”

Even though the Capital Prefecture had already announced the case solved, Cheng Da had always felt that something was off. His younger sister might have been naive and unworldly, but how was it possible that she had been lured away in broad daylight in the middle of the street by a monk she had no familiarity with? He had a vague and formless sense of wrongness about it all, and today, with Ming Huashang asking about Lu Du, that feeling of wrongness intensified sharply.

Cheng Da did not answer, but his expression had already confirmed what she needed to know. Ming Huashang could say no more. She could only look at Cheng Da with sincerity and say, “I’m sorry. There is no evidence right now, and I cannot answer you. But I can give you my word: I will find the true murderer who took Cheng Siyue’s life.”

If she was saying she would find the real murderer — then the person the Jing Zhaoyiin had named was not the murderer? Cheng Da looked at Ming Huashang, opened his mouth, then closed it. At last he said, “Miss Ming, it’s not safe on the roads right now. It’s quite late for a woman to be out alone. Let me see you home.”

“There’s no need,” Ming Huashang waved him off. “I have maids and guards with me — I can find my own way back.”

Cheng Da shook his head, and was resolute on the point. “My greatest regret is that I let Siyue walk home alone that day. Please — let me see you back.”

Ming Huashang thought of Cheng Siyue, and for a moment was left without words. She accepted Cheng Da’s kindness without further argument. By the time they arrived at the Duke Zhengguo’s residence, Cheng Da watched Ming Huashang go inside, and was just about to turn and leave when Ming Huashang called out to him.

Ming Huashang lifted her skirts and ran out, meeting Cheng Da’s eyes with a serious gaze, and said, “First Young Master, what happened that day was not your fault. Even if you had seen her home that time, the next time — and the time after that — as long as the murderer was still free, he would eventually have found an opportunity. That is not your fault, and it is not Siyue’s fault either. The one who should carry the guilt for this is the murderer.”

Something seemed to stir in Cheng Da’s eyes. He looked at Ming Huashang with stunned intensity. His lips moved, and at last he clasped his hands in a bow and said, “Thank you.”

Ming Huashang returned the bow with a formal curtsy. “Please take care of yourself.”

Cheng Da said goodbye to Ming Huashang a second time. This time his tone was far more genuine than before, no longer driven purely by good breeding and etiquette: “Second Young Miss Ming, please go in and rest. I know that during this time you and your brother have both exerted yourselves greatly on account of Siyue’s case. Thank you both.”

Ming Huashang shook her head with a small smile and said, “It’s what we ought to have done. I’ll head in now — take care, First Young Master.”

Ming Huashang turned and went back inside. This time she did not look back. After her figure had disappeared, Cheng Da stood before the gate of the Duke Zhengguo’s residence for a long while before mounting his horse and leaving.

Zhao Cai followed silently behind Ming Huashang, and once there was no one else nearby, she leaned in close and said, “My lady, is the First Young Master of the Duke Chengguo’s household also unattached?”

Ming Huashang truly could not believe it, and shot her an irritated glare. “Is there room in your head for anything else? I’m not taking you along anymore. Go back by yourself — I’m going to wait for Second Brother in his courtyard.”

Zhao Cai huffed back with equal indignation, but seeing that Ming Huashang really did turn and walk away without her, she called out, “My lady! There are so many chestnuts — can you eat them all yourself?”

“I can manage, and none for you.”

“Be careful you don’t get bloated!”

The young manservants in Qinghui Courtyard had reached a state of complete equanimity upon seeing Ming Huashang arrive. They moved charcoal braziers into the room, lit incense, and heated tea with practiced ease. They often privately suspected that the true occupant of this courtyard was the Second Young Miss, and the Second Young Master was merely the guest.

Ming Huashang sat in the room, filled with excitement, waiting for Ming Huazhang to come home so she could tell him about the enormous breakthrough she had made today.

She finally understood why Huang Caiwei — a young lady of the Sacrificial Wine’s household who had been sheltered like a precious jewel by her parents, haughty and spirited, accustomed to getting her way — would have started visiting Purdu Temple with such frequency. She understood why Cheng Siyue, a gentle and obedient daughter, would have risked her elders’ reprimand to go off on her own to the Imperial Academy. She understood why that female vagrant from five years ago, who had tasted every bitterness life could offer, would have followed someone away. All of these things now had their answers.

Cheng Siyue had not gone to the Imperial Academy to see her brother at all — she had gone to see the person she was in love with. She had visited the Imperial Academy so frequently that even her brother’s dormitory companions recognized her; so it was no surprise that she would have come to know her brother’s teacher as well. She had climbed out of the carriage midway, refused to go home, and even deliberately changed into a different set of clothing so her family would not notice — all of it for the sake of meeting her lover in secret.

Huang Caiwei — someone as restless and vivid as she was — suddenly becoming infatuated with Purdu Temple had not been out of any interest in Buddhist teachings. She had gone there to see the person who had been lodging there.

That person was well-mannered, of distinguished lineage, gracious and polished in bearing, with considerable attainments in literature and music. But inwardly, his psychology was deeply unhealthy. His childhood family environment had been severely dysfunctional — his father had a violent tendency, and that violence did not necessarily refer to physical violence; it might have been emotional or verbal abuse. A female relative close to him must have inflicted a profound wound at some point, which had left him with an aversion to mature women and a fixation on girls between fourteen and sixteen years of age who had a childlike appearance and a docile temperament. Because of this affliction, he resisted marriage and had always kept to himself.

He was a devout believer in Buddhism and was convinced that by fashioning bones into bone flutes, the deceased would be released from suffering and reborn in the Pure Land. And so he would extract the shin bones from his victims, because that segment of bone was the longest and most slender, ideally suited to become an instrument. When he killed Cheng Siyue, he lacked the conditions necessary for that, and could only settle for taking her finger bones instead.

Cheng Siyue’s fingers were exquisitely beautiful — the middle finger especially was slender and perfectly proportioned. Even without being made into a flute, it could become a bone whistle.

Four years ago, something of great significance had changed in his life — perhaps he had gained authority, a say in his affairs, or a position of considerable social standing that earned him great esteem. These changes had greatly alleviated the psychological pressure he lived under, so he no longer needed to kill in order to find psychological satisfaction. But this past October, a clumsy act of copycat killing had stirred the demon lurking in the depths of his heart.

This man was extremely arrogant and narcissistic, incapable of tolerating the outside world conflating the imitator with himself. And so, with unhurried mastery, he had killed a woman and discarded the body in the most easily discovered location — a dark alley near the city gate — waiting for all of Chang’an to be thrown into uproar on his account.

A portrait gradually took shape on the paper. Ming Huashang set down her brush and gazed at it for a long time.

The true murderer behind the five-year serial killings of young women. The unmarried doctor of learning at the Imperial Academy most sought-after by matchmakers. Lu Du.

Ming Huashang put away the paper and waited single-mindedly for Ming Huazhang to return. But she waited for a long time, the tea was replaced several times, and the hour at which he normally returned home was long past — still there was no sign of him.

Given his nature, even if he had been delayed by the investigation, he would surely have sent someone back with word by now at this late hour. He would not do something so uncharacteristic and disorganized.

Ming Huashang felt a heavy foreboding land in her chest. Instinctively, she sensed that something had happened to Ming Huazhang.