After Ming Huazhang spoke, everyone settled down considerably. Xie Jichuan stopped stirring the fire, Ming Huashang quietly crossed out a few more dishes, and Ren Yao and Jiang Ling stopped bickering.
When the last dish was placed on the table, the server pressed his hands together, said “Please enjoy your meal,” and walked out with his tray. The door closed, leaving no one in the private room but themselves. Ming Huazhang finally returned to the case: “I have now questioned Feng Liang and those around him. The day before the incident, he attended a banquet at a friend’s home, drinking through the night and well into the early hours, and did not retire until very late. During the hour of Chen, he was still asleep — and the dancing girl can confirm it. I also searched Feng Liang’s home, the residence where he stayed the night, and the households he had visited recently, and found no traces of explosives. His alibi appears sound enough to be tentatively ruled out.”
Jiang Ling said: “If it wasn’t Feng Liang, then it must be the Widow Liu, surely?”
This was exactly what Ren Yao could not work out. She asked, puzzled: “But everyone at Jinxiu Tower said that at the time of the explosion, the Widow Liu was out taking her son to see a physician, with many people who could vouch for her. She does not have three heads and six arms — how could she have been in two places at once to plant explosives at Huichun Hall?”
Xie Jichuan said in an unhurried tone: “I have actually always thought this illness of her son’s was suspiciously convenient. The child had been sick for several days — why did she choose that particular day to take him to the physician? If she could poison her first husband, there is no reason she could not have given the child a small dose. I believe it was a diversion — she deliberately created a commotion to bring in many witnesses to confirm she was not at the scene, while using some method to plant the explosives remotely. After all — who would suspect a mother in frantic distress over her sick child?”
Ming Huashang had been listening quietly and now spoke: “Even though the Widow Liu is covered in questionable circumstances, I still have to say something in her defense. She may not be a good wife — but she is certainly a good mother. Her love and concern for her child is not a performance. A mother would not use her own child’s life as a prop in a scheme.”
Jiang Ling jerked his chin and scratched his head: “But if it’s not her, then who else could it be? The whole setup — all these elaborate steps just to blow someone up — looks to me like a woman’s handiwork. If a man wanted someone dead, he would find a quiet spot and crack their skull with a club. Why go to all this trouble?”
“You should not jump to conclusions.” Ming Huazhang said. “Widow Hu and the Widow Liu are love rivals, and now there is also a property dispute between them. We cannot guarantee that the information Widow Hu provided is accurate — she may have said it specifically to blacken the Widow Liu’s name. Going forward, the priority is to find Black Tiger. If we can locate this person and confirm that Qian Yi did buy medicine from him three years ago, then Innkeeper Feng’s case can be brought to light.”
“But that only proves the Widow Liu and Qian Yi colluded to kill Innkeeper Feng.” Ren Yao said. “That is a case from three years ago — it has nothing to do with the one we are investigating now.”
“That is why we need another breakthrough.” Ming Huazhang sighed and said: “The Feng Liang lead has dried up. We can only look for new clues through the Widow Liu. Are the people assigned to follow her all in place?”
“All in place.” Xie Jichuan said. “Before I left, I personally checked — there are eyes on Jinxiu Tower at all hours. But this approach is too passive. If the Widow Liu simply stays put and refuses to move, are we supposed to just wait along with her indefinitely?”
Ren Yao quickly added: “I just remembered — when we went to Jinxiu Tower this morning, I saw a large supply of fireworks stacked in the storeroom. I asked the waiter, and he said the madam had ordered them bought. Does that count as evidence?”
“It cannot.” Ming Huazhang said. “With the New Year recently passed, it would be perfectly ordinary for the Widow Liu, as the proprietress’s wife, to have the staff buy fireworks.”
Xie Jichuan narrowed his eyes and said: “We could leak Widow Hu’s words today to the Widow Liu. If the Widow Liu is the killer, she will certainly make a move against Widow Hu. Then we can catch her in the act.”
“No.” Ming Huazhang rejected it outright. “Widow Hu is also with child. We cannot drag uninvolved people into this.”
“But this is the fastest way.” Xie Jichuan said. “The court inside and out has eyes watching for any excuse — who knows how many are harboring ill intent. The longer this case drags on, the easier it becomes to use it as a weapon against someone.”
“Even so, we cannot gamble with the life of an innocent commoner.” Ming Huazhang’s tone was unusually firm, hard as iron: “What Widow Hu has told us goes no further than this room. No one is to let it slip. That is final.”
Xie Jichuan tightened his lips and said no more. The private room fell into a stalemate. Ming Huashang nibbled on her chopstick, blinked her eyes a few times, and ventured: “Um… should we start eating? The dishes are going cold.”
Ming Huazhang glanced at Ming Huashang, and the tension in his expression eased slightly. He reached over and served her a dish, saying: “Let’s eat first. We can think through the rest tomorrow — there will be a way.”
After the meal, the five of them said goodbye at the entrance and each went their separate ways. Lanterns had been strung up along the streets, and pedestrians wove in and out in a lively stream. The night wind blew softly, and the city was at its busiest hour. Ming Huashang’s nose twitched — she caught the faint, sweet fragrance of stir-fried chestnuts.
She was drawn to it, embarrassingly so, yet she had only just finished dinner. As a young woman, how could she possibly eat this much? Ming Huazhang looked at her in one glance and read her thoughts precisely. He handed the reins to his attendant and said mildly: “We ate a little too much just now. Come walk it off with me?”
Ming Huashang agreed. They drew up in front of the chestnut stall, and she was still wavering when Ming Huazhang said: “Buy a bag of chestnuts to take home?”
Ming Huashang put on a show of restraint: “Well… I am already quite full — I really could not eat a thing.”
Ming Huazhang smiled and said: “I know you cannot eat them. It is getting cold out. Buy a bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts to warm your hands.”
Ming Huashang accepted this reasoning with pleasure. She walked down the street clutching a large bag of chestnuts, still saying: “Actually, I never snack after dinner — these are mostly for Zhao Cai. She likes all these little things.”
Ming Huazhang walked beside her, giving her an amused glance. He took out a chestnut, pressed with his fingertips, and split it cleanly open whole. He held the kernel to her lips and said: “Then taste one for her — is it good?”
Ming Huashang made a show of reluctance before taking a bite, and rendered her verdict: “It is all right.”
Ming Huazhang collected the shells in his handkerchief. As they walked, he continued shelling chestnuts for her and feeding them to her one by one. His fingers were long and slender, the knuckles defined; the motion of cracking the shells was neat and graceful — less like peeling chestnuts, more like playing a musical instrument.
As he fed her and walked, Ming Huazhang asked: “Shang Shang, can you draw a portrait of the culprit yet?”
Ming Huashang looked like a chipmunk with both cheeks stuffed to capacity, and answered in a muffled voice: “Not yet. The culprit has left too little information behind — I have not settled on my thoughts. I am afraid of saying something that might skew your judgment.”
Ming Huazhang noticed a strand of hair had fallen across her cheek. He reached out to brush her face, smoothing it back into place. Ming Huashang startled and instinctively drew back like a frightened deer: “Second Elder Brother…”
“Don’t move.” Ming Huazhang cupped her chin, took out his handkerchief, and carefully wiped away the chestnut crumbs at the corner of her mouth. Ming Huashang tilted her face up toward him. Her eyes drifted and met his without meaning to, and half her body went rigid.
Ming Huazhang wiped her face clean with care, his gaze dropping to look directly into hers. His fingers shifted — the pad of his thumb grazed the corner of her lips, seeming neither intentional nor absent-minded — and he said: “No rush. Take your time thinking it through. I trust you.”
Ming Huashang blinked. All at once she came back to herself. She stepped back, deliberately keeping her eyes down: “Oh. All right. I will not let Second Elder Brother down.”
Ming Huazhang’s fingertip touched nothing. He withdrew his hand. His fingers, without his noticing, rubbed slowly against his own palm. He said: “The wind is picking up. Shall I call the carriage? If we do not head back now, Father will start to worry.”
Ming Huashang nodded in silence. The carriage arrived shortly. Ming Huashang got in, and Ming Huazhang mounted his horse. She had barely settled when the carriage stopped again.
Ming Huashang lifted the curtain and asked: “What happened?”
The attendant was equally baffled: “I do not know — the Second Young Master suddenly stopped here. I do not know why either.”
Ming Huashang kept the curtain lifted and looked out. She saw Ming Huazhang dismount and stride to the corner of the road, where he bent down and picked up a shard of broken porcelain — and set it against the base of the wall.
Ming Huashang watched this in astonishment. What was he doing?
Ming Huazhang moved quickly. He shifted the sharpest pieces out of the way, rose, wiped his fingers as he walked, said something to the attendant, and turned back toward the carriage. Seeing Ming Huashang looking outside, he stopped in front of the carriage and asked: “What is it?”
Ming Huashang shook her head: “Nothing. Second Elder Brother — what were you just doing?”
Ming Huazhang glanced back briefly and said with ease: “A drunkard must have smashed a wine jar somewhere. That spot cannot be seen from inside the road — I was worried about the elderly or children nearby stepping on the shards and getting hurt. It is all cleared away now. Let us go home.”
Ming Huashang murmured her acknowledgment and slowly lowered the curtain. After a moment, the carriage moved on again. She could not help but lift the curtain open just a crack. The corner of the road passed before her — the people hurrying home to beat the curfew rushed by without the faintest glance at the pile of broken shards against the wall.
The world streamed past like an arrow in flight. Yet that one slender, upright silhouette stood motionless against it all — steady and steadfast, holding up the sky.
Ming Huashang slowly leaned her head back against the wall of the carriage, watching that young man in silence.
She had never truly understood what a gentleman was. The sages had written so many treatises, offered so many definitions, for that word. But in this moment, she understood: a true gentleman was nothing more than someone who, looking up, could face the sun and moon without shame — and looking down, could take pity on every blade of grass.
In official robes, fighting with principled resolve for a woman of monstrous crime. Out of official robes, moving away sharp porcelain shards for any passerby who might come this way.
To have met him in this life was her extraordinary good fortune.
·
In the days that followed, the Jing Zhaoyin was as busy as ever — as though no matter how many people were added, there were never enough. Ming Huazhang posted notices throughout the city on one hand, warning residents not to touch boxes or bundles of unknown origin, while on the other hand working with Ming Huashang and the others to search the West Market for Black Tiger, and keeping track of the progress of the surveillance on the Widow Liu as well. Several lines were advancing simultaneously, yet six days passed without result.
The Crown Prince grew restless and sent someone once more to press them. In the palace halls, the case files and papers were piled everywhere. The five of them sat gathered together, each carrying a trace of impatience.
Xie Jichuan flipped rapidly through the surveillance records on the Widow Liu, tossed them onto the floor with casual disregard, and said: “The Widow Liu does not move, the West Market search turns up nothing, and no new witnesses have been found in the city. Are we simply going to wait like this?”
Ming Huazhang picked up the papers Xie Jichuan had dropped, dusted them off, and placed them neatly back on the table. His manner was as composed and calm as ever. He asked: “Does anyone have any ideas?”
Everyone fell silent. After a moment, Ming Huashang said: “Elder Brother Xie is right — the culprit could strike again at any time. We cannot keep waiting. I have an idea. I am not sure whether to raise it.”
Ming Huazhang raised a brow, already sensing this would not be anything reassuring. Jiang Ling said impatiently: “Stop hedging and speak.”
Ming Huashang blinked, then smiled with perfect innocence and said: “I hear that the Widow Liu’s son is still unwell. She has been seeking physicians and remedies everywhere these past few days — she has even brought in a Taoist priest to conduct an exorcism.”
Jiang Ling stared at her, still not seeing the connection: “What does that have to do with anything?”
Ming Huashang quickly darted a glance at Ming Huazhang — her elder brother was still wearing that cool, refined, expressionless look. She pressed her lips into a small smile, doing her best to look sweet and guileless, and said: “It is said that only a person with a ghost on her conscience would send for someone to exorcise ghosts. So — let us go to Jinxiu Tower and play the ghosts ourselves.”
Jiang Ling genuinely paused, half-wondering if he had heard wrong: “What?”
·
The moon was dark, and the wind moaned eerily. Xie Jichuan looked at the dim, silent tower before them and said with whole-hearted conviction: “Second Little Sister’s imagination is truly inexhaustible — no way to guard against it.”
Beside him, Ming Huazhang was dressed in black from head to toe, leaning against a tree, saying nothing. Ming Huashang let out a sly little laugh: “We are on official business — of course we should not be overly conventional. Shall we proceed as we planned?”
After hearing the scheme to impersonate ghosts and frighten someone, Jiang Ling had been so excited he could barely contain himself, and he volunteered to take on the meatiest role of “the ghost.” He cracked his knuckles and urged: “Her light has gone out — she should be sound asleep by now. Go quickly — get her while she is hovering between sleep and waking, when she is least clear-headed. Give her the full treatment.”
Ming Huazhang let out a resigned sigh and said: “Mind your proportions — there is a child inside. Do not frighten the child.”
Ming Huashang got the nod from her elder brother and excitedly pulled on her head covering, bit down on the specially made elongated tongue in her mouth, and said in a garbled rush: “Elder Brother Black, our time in the world of the living is limited — let us depart.”
Beside her, Ren Yao wore all black with iron chains in hand. She imitated a male voice, her expression stone-cold: “Qian so-and-so — you have died. From this day forward, the living and the dead walk separate roads. Come with us.”
Jiang Ling cooperated beautifully, being dragged along by both ghost escorts with the iron chains, his face a mask of grief: “Black Spirit, White Spirit — I, a humble ghost, died a wrongful death! I only wish to see my wife and child one last time before the judgment — I beg the two great lords to show mercy!”
Ming Huazhang covered his eyes with his hand, unwilling to look any further. Xie Jichuan let out a long, deep sigh, tipped his head back, and gazed at the sky.
He should never have entertained any illusions about the intelligence of these people. Too foolish — he wanted to leave.
Jiang Ling wailed and lamented his deep devotion to his wife; Ming Huashang and Ren Yao accepted his sob story with reluctant and entirely undeserved mercy and dragged him toward Jinxiu Tower. Xie Jichuan watched the three of them bounce along with grave, perfectly sincere expressions, bobbing up and down in erratic rhythms, and could no longer hold back: “Are you all out of your minds?”
Not far away, Su Yuji stared at the strangely costumed figures bouncing and leaping ahead of her, and was also quite perplexed. Su Yuji crossed both arms and thought very seriously about it.
The mental faculties of these people were, perhaps, slightly unwell. What on earth were they doing?