Following Ming Huazhang’s instructions, Jiang Ling was the first to leave, heading to Chongye Ward to wait outside the Wei family residence.

In truth, Jiang Ling thought it would have been simpler to go directly and question the Wei family — flash their credentials, and would the Wei family dare conceal anything?

But Ming Huazhang disagreed. He said they could not reveal their identities, and furthermore, from this point on, the five of them must pretend to be strangers in public. Even when executing the same mission, they were to act as though meeting by chance, and under no circumstances were they to enter or leave together. Otherwise, if one was caught, the remaining four would all be exposed.

His enthusiastic suggestion to bring Bao Bao and Bei Bei to catch ghosts was also rejected. That pair of lynx and leopard were far too well-known in the Eastern Capital — bringing them along would be no different from writing “heir to the Marquis of Jiang’an” directly on his face.

This wouldn’t do, that wouldn’t do. Jiang Ling had no choice but to wait alone in Chongye Ward. They had clearly agreed the second group would set out a quarter-hour later, yet as Jiang Ling stood against the wall, that quarter-hour felt excessively long.

Ren Yao and Ming Huashang hadn’t wandered off to go shopping along the way, had they? How could they be this slow?

Jiang Ling had been surrounded by admirers wherever he went since childhood — this was the first time he had ever waited on someone else. At last, Ren Yao and Ming Huashang arrived fashionably late. The moment Jiang Ling spotted them, he couldn’t help but complain: “Did you crawl here? What took you so long?”

At those words, Ren Yao’s expression immediately went cold, and she moved to fling down the paper-wrapped parcel in her hands. Ming Huashang quickly said, “Your words are out of line — Ren Jiejie was afraid you’d be hungry, so she went out of her way to bring you a meat bun.”

Jiang Ling glanced at the parcel in Ren Yao’s hands, genuinely surprised. “For me?”

“That’s right.” Ming Huashang took Ren Yao’s arm and gently steered her in front of Jiang Ling. “Ren Jiejie carried it the whole way — it’s still warm.”

Ren Yao stood there with the parcel in her hands, uncertain whether to throw it down or keep holding it, and said awkwardly, “It actually isn’t—”

The truth was that they had not gone out of their way to buy a bun for Jiang Ling. They had deliberately woven through the market several times to shake off any potential surveillance and cover their tracks. And the bun had not been Ren Yao’s idea either — Ming Huashang had pointed out that they had eaten flatbread pastries while Jiang Ling had eaten nothing, and he might be hungry; then she had claimed she had no money, so Ren Yao had gone and bought the bun from a stall herself.

Ming Huashang cut off Ren Yao’s explanation and gave Jiang Ling a meaningful look. “Ren Jiejie may have a sharp tongue but a soft heart. Her intentions are good — don’t let her kindness go to waste. Aren’t you going to take it?”

Jiang Ling felt rather flattered and overwhelmed. He wouldn’t have been surprised if some other well-bred young lady had done this, but for Ren Yao — this tomboy — to have noticed such a small detail was truly beyond his expectations.

Jiang Ling suddenly felt that Ren Yao, though she looked as disagreeable as a block of stone, wasn’t all that unpleasant after all.

For Ren Yao, this was her first time doing something like this, and she felt thoroughly awkward and uncomfortable. She stiffly tossed the paper parcel at Jiang Ling, kept her face cold, and said, “I saw it on the road, bought it on a whim. Don’t read too much into it.”

Jiang Ling gave Ren Yao a clap on the shoulder, deciding this was a companion worth keeping. He unwrapped it and looked inside, delighted: “Hey! How did you know minced meat buns are my favorite?”

The bun looked deceptively thin on the outside, but inside it was layered with minced meat filling — a perfectly balanced blend of fat and lean, the oil soaked into the dough, baked to a golden, crispy perfection, rich but not greasy, and the smell alone was mouthwatering.

Any stall Ming Huashang chose would certainly be excellent. But the buying and paying had genuinely been Ren Yao’s doing, so Ming Huashang smiled and said, “This just proves that Ren Jiejie and Young Lord Jiang share the same taste — they’re kindred spirits in food.”

Jiang Ling had attended every sort of banquet imaginable; by his culinary standards, this bun was somewhat humble. But a roadside stall had a warmth and spirit that grand banquets lacked. He hadn’t been particularly hungry, but one whiff of that aroma and he genuinely felt the craving stir.

Jiang Ling’s friendships were entirely based on gut feeling, and he found these two very much to his liking. Generously, he said, “You two — I’ve decided, we’re friends. Whatever you want to eat, it’s on me!”

Ren Yao’s first instinct was to refuse — who needed him to treat them? — but before she could, Ming Huashang had already smiled and accepted on their behalf: “Wonderful, then I won’t hold back. I spotted a cherry cheese stall on the way here — shall we take advantage of the Young Lord’s generosity today?”

Cherry cheese cost next to nothing — Jiang Ling didn’t even blink. He waved a hand magnanimously: “Done! And stop being so formal with all the ‘Young Lord’ this and ‘Young Lord’ that — it sounds strange. Just call me by my name.”

Ming Huashang readily agreed. The three of them walked toward the cheese stall, and Ren Yao quietly tugged Ming Huashang’s sleeve. “What are you doing? Marquis Pingnan’s household is not some impoverished family — who needs him to treat us? We’re here to investigate a case. Why are we wasting time with him?”

Ming Huashang pressed down on Ren Yao’s hand and said, “Jiang Ling may have a bad reputation, but he’s not a bad person. I know Ren Jiejie is the same — a good heart burdened by her reputation. In a sense, you and Jiang Ling are alike. We’re going to be working together, and staying at each other’s throats isn’t going to serve anyone. If we each offer the other a way out and keep things pleasant, isn’t that better?”

Ren Yao’s expression was still rigid, but Ming Huashang could see that she was simply in the habit of armoring herself with severity — she didn’t know how to express goodwill and softness, and so she kept her face cold at all times. Ming Huashang said, “Ren Jiejie, think of it as helping me. As an unmarried young woman, being seen dining at the same table as Jiang Ling — that’s not a good look for me.”

In the end, Ren Yao relented and let Ming Huashang pull her to sit down at the small stall. There was no fruit in Luoyang more fashionable right now than cherries. Ming Huashang felt not the slightest disdain for the humble street stall, and sat down naturally, saying, “Proprietor, two portions of cherry cheese, please.”

Finding herself in this kind of setting, Ren Yao was already feeling restless and out of place. She heard Ming Huashang’s order and immediately said, “Not for me.”

But Ming Huashang paid her no mind, glancing at her with a smile. “Don’t save Jiang Ling’s money for him. Proprietor — two portions.”

Jiang Ling, overhearing, chimed in: “Exactly — do you look down on me or something? Two portions!”

The proprietor behind the stall responded cheerfully and began briskly preparing the dish. Very quickly, he set two servings of the luminous, red-and-white confection in front of Ming Huashang and Ren Yao. “Young misses, your cherry cheese.”

Before them were two fresh portions of cherries drizzled with cheese and sweet syrup, looking utterly appetizing. Ming Huashang thanked him warmly, then pressed a wooden spoon firmly into Ren Yao’s hand. “Ren Jiejie, if you don’t eat, I can’t eat either. I so rarely get to come out — just take pity on me.”

Ren Yao’s instinct was to refuse anything she perceived as feminine. A confection this delicate and pretty was clearly something sheltered young ladies enjoyed — how could she, determined to become a woman Marquis herself, indulge in such pleasures? But Ming Huashang was looking at her with such a pitiful expression that if Ren Yao didn’t touch hers, Ming Huashang would be in an awkward position on both sides.

Ren Yao had no choice but to pick up the small spoon and take a tentative taste. The early spring cherries paired with the sweet syrup were both tart and sweet in one bite, with a rich milky fragrance — genuinely delicious.

Ming Huashang saw Ren Yao’s expression and laughed. “See? I told you it was good. Jiang Ling, do you want some?”

Jiang Ling sat across the table finishing his meat bun. He had no interest in sweets this insubstantial — barely a mouthful — but seeing that Ren Yao and Ming Huashang were enjoying themselves, he felt pleased too. “Not for me. If you like it, just order more — I have plenty of money.”

Ren Yao nearly rolled her eyes again. Ming Huashang smiled and called out to the proprietor: “Proprietor, two more portions of cherry cheese — to go. We’ll pick them up before we leave.”

Jiang Ling didn’t care about the money — to him, money was the least valuable thing in the world. He was only puzzled: “You’re eating that much?”

Ren Yao let out a sudden laugh and nearly choked on a cherry. Ming Huashang’s smile remained unchanged, but in that instant she understood perfectly well why Ren Yao couldn’t stand him — she should not have stopped Ren Yao earlier.

Through gritted teeth and a smile, Ming Huashang said, “I’m packing it for my second elder brother and Brother Xie.”

“Ah.” Jiang Ling nodded. “That makes sense — I was about to say, for a girl, you can’t possibly eat that much yourself. You’re really close with your brother — you think of him no matter where you go.”

Ming Huashang imagined the cherries in the dish were Jiang Ling’s head and bit down on one without looking up. “Of course. What else would I do?”

Jiang Ling had finished his bun and wiped his hands on a handkerchief, tossing it casually aside, and let out a long, quiet sigh.

Ming Huashang was busy with her cherries and didn’t notice anything amiss in Jiang Ling, but Ren Yao immediately heard in that single sigh all the quiet helplessness, bitterness, and self-deprecation that could not be put into words.

Ren Yao gripped her spoon and stared at Jiang Ling, momentarily still.

Someone like Ming Huashang, who had grown up surrounded by love from the very beginning, would never understand: not all siblings were trustworthy, and not every house could be called home.

The Pingnan Marquis household was a murky, suffocating place. Uncles and cousins she had never even laid eyes on had brazenly taken over the Marquis’s residence, pointing at every corner of her home and speaking in the magnanimous tones of benefactors about which items they would set aside as her dowry. Ren Yao had grown up in the shadow of the question of why she wasn’t born a man. At first it was relatives and servants who said it — and later, she had begun to say it to herself.

There were times when she trained until her body gave out, when she had broken down and wondered why the world was so unjust. Why did some people have to give nothing at all — simply by virtue of being men, they could claim everything — while she poured every last drop of herself into it and couldn’t even earn the right to compete?

That resentment had reached its peak the moment she first met Jiang Ling. She had looked at him with critical eyes, and the more she looked, the more she found him wanting. Someone like this — with nothing to his name beyond luck — on what grounds had he been made heir?

But in this moment, at a bustling street corner, at a small stall with grease still congealed on the table, she suddenly heard Jiang Ling sigh.

He already had everything he could ever want — so why was he sighing? Was there something weighing on him at home, something no one knew about?

Jiang Ling thought of his stepmother and half-brother at home, and truly did not want those wretched matters to ruin his mood. He shook his head firmly, tossing away the unpleasant thoughts — and then looked up to find Ren Yao watching him with a very strange expression.

That expression bore an uncanny resemblance to the one young ladies at banquets wore when they slipped someone a handkerchief. A wave of goosebumps rose all over Jiang Ling’s body, and he asked, startled: “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ren Yao caught herself. She realized she had been sitting there staring at Jiang Ling in a daze, which mortified her, and she responded by shooting him a ferocious glare.

Still a tomboy through and through. Jiang Ling was, it had to be said, quite relieved.

Ming Huashang had eaten her fill and turned to the matter at hand. There were only a handful of people at the stall now and the proprietor was idling, so Ming Huashang made casual conversation: “Proprietor, your cheese is truly delicious. This must be a long-established stall, yes?”

“Not at all.” The proprietor was a somewhat portly middle-aged man. Seeing that the three young guests wore expensive fabrics and carried themselves with unmistakable refinement, he had guessed from the start that they were no ordinary people.

He had initially worried that they might find fault with his humble stall — but though the three of them were visibly unaccustomed to this kind of environment, none of them made an issue of it. The prettiest of them in particular, a young miss with luminous, bright eyes that always seemed ready to smile before she even spoke, was exceptionally winning.

The proprietor knew perfectly well these three were people he could not afford to offend, but even so, hearing a kind word, he could not suppress his delight, and said with proud satisfaction, “I’ve only been here five or six years — I make a living by my craft, nothing grand enough to be called an institution.”

Ren Yao had initially wondered why Ming Huashang was making small talk, but when she looked up she realized the Wei family residence was directly behind them. Only then did she understand why Ming Huashang had let Jiang Ling treat them to food.

The eating was a pretense — gathering information was the real purpose.

Ming Huashang brightened at the proprietor’s answer: “No wonder. With skill like yours, business must be thriving. Next time we come, I wonder if we’ll even be able to get a spot.”

This was perfectly ordinary flattery, but unexpectedly the proprietor’s face fell at the words, and he said, “Thank you for your kind wishes, young miss. If you’d like cheese next time, just send someone ahead — no need to wait in line. The way I see it, my business isn’t going to recover anytime soon.”

“Oh?” Ming Huashang asked with genuine surprise. “Why is that? With your skill, you shouldn’t be suffering like this.”

Jiang Ling and Ren Yao both caught Ming Huashang’s intent, and the two of them held their breath and listened carefully to what the proprietor would say next. He briskly wiped down a neighboring table, his face full of grievance, and jutted his chin in the direction of the Wei house. “It’s all because of that place. I originally took this spot because Proprietor Wei runs a big operation, and the Bodhi Temple is just nearby — I thought I’d catch some of that traffic with a small business of my own. As it turned out, I never got the benefit of it, and instead I’ve been plagued with nothing but ill omens.”

“What kind of ill omens?” Ming Huashang asked.

The proprietor seemed to feel he shouldn’t be talking about this, and grew vague. “It’s nothing, really. Proprietor Wei’s reputation for making puppets is well-known, and many households of noble standing like to come and place orders. Perhaps his puppets are painted so lifelike that lately they’ve come to life, wandering all through the house on their own.”

“Ghosts don’t exist in this world,” Ming Huashang said dismissively, feigning disbelief. “This must be the Wei family putting on a show, spreading ghost stories to drum up business and build their name.”

The proprietor was startled, and quickly said, “Young miss, please — you mustn’t say that. I didn’t believe it at first either, but one night I was late packing up, and I heard singing coming from inside the Wei family’s courtyard wall. I thought Proprietor Wei had had a change of heart, and out of curiosity I climbed up a tree to peek and see who was rehearsing. But what I saw were two identical puppets performing, singing to each other — their faces were white, their eyes were black, not a single expression on their faces, their arms moving joint by joint, as though being pulled by invisible strings. But aside from those two puppets, there was absolutely no one around! When they heard a sound, they turned to look at me in perfect unison — I was so frightened I almost fell out of the tree.”

Ming Huashang, Jiang Ling, and Ren Yao exchanged a glance, and Ming Huashang still pressed: “Proprietor, could it have been too dark and you simply missaw?”

The proprietor slapped his hands in frustration. “Young miss, where in the world do you find two people who look exactly alike? Those were clearly the puppets used for puppet theatre. Whether it’s the rod-puppet style or the string-puppet style, someone has to be operating them, doesn’t there? But I saw clearly — there was not a single person around. If the puppets hadn’t come to life, what else could it have been? I was frightened half out of my wits that night. Afterward I quietly asked the Wei family’s servants about it, and they said there had indeed been all manner of strange occurrences in recent days — some puppets that had been locked away in the storeroom inexplicably appeared at doors and windows the next morning, and on one occasion a puppet was found sitting at the head of Third Young Miss Wei’s bed, holding a knife, with an eerie smile on its face. Goodness — just picturing that scene gives me the chills. If my stall lease weren’t for two years, I’d have moved long ago.”

The proprietor told the story with great animation, and against her will the image rose unbidden in Ren Yao’s mind: you open your eyes and find, sitting at your bedside, a vivid and intricately crafted puppet — expressionless — holding a knife, staring straight at you. She drew a barely audible breath, and suddenly the cherry in her hand didn’t seem appetizing anymore.

She suddenly realized that the deep, blood-red color of the ripe cherry looked very much like the rouge painted on a puppet’s cheeks.

Jiang Ling had been listening with great interest. He couldn’t help but ask, “So there really are ghosts? Then why haven’t they called a high monk to perform an exorcism?”

“They did!” the proprietor said excitedly. “But it was no use! You three — see that door there?”

Ming Huashang and Jiang Ling both craned their necks to look, then nodded. “Yes. Is that the Wei family’s main gate?”

“That’s right.” The proprietor rubbed his hands together vigorously, as though something had just occurred to him, and a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. “I remember it was around the twentieth of the second month — Proprietor Wei was seeing a guest out and as they reached the doorway he felt something behind him. He turned around, and sitting in the main hall — which had been empty just moments before — was a puppet, staring at the crowd and smiling. Then as it smiled and smiled, blood began pouring from all seven orifices. It frightened the guests terribly. Proprietor Wei rushed to the Bodhi Temple to fetch a high monk for an exorcism, and I was here doing business that day — I remember it very clearly. After that, people were coming and going many times over — monks came, Daoist priests came — but as soon as night fell the puppets were wandering again. Nothing worked.”

This Jiang Ling could corroborate. He nodded: “I heard about that too. The day the Daoist priests performed the ritual, I happened to be passing by and saw a crowd gathered here — I asked around and learned the Wei family was trying to drive out ghosts.”

Ming Huashang could also verify it: on the day she had accompanied her paternal grandmother to offer incense, it had been precisely the twentieth of the second month, and midway through their visit someone had burst in and practically dragged the abbot away to perform an exorcism.

Her and Jiang Ling’s timelines both aligned with the proprietor’s account — the man was almost certainly not lying.

It seemed Ming Huashang’s choice had been the right one. Certain family secrets were things the family itself might not know clearly, but the neighbors always had the full picture.

Ming Huashang nodded slowly. She had several questions she couldn’t answer, and she started with the most important one: “Why would a puppet appear at the bedside of the Third Young Miss holding a knife? Who is the Third Young Miss?”

“That would be Proprietor Wei’s third apprentice, of course.” The proprietor jutted his chin toward the house. “Proprietor Wei has no children — just three apprentices, one man and two women. The eldest is both the senior disciple and the only male, so naturally he will inherit the family business. Proprietor Wei thought it would be best for him to marry a fellow apprentice — a senior and junior disciple who marry are closer than ordinary couples, and they could pass on the craft of the school together. The match had all been settled — the eldest disciple and the Second Young Miss were to wed. But then, not long ago, the Second Young Miss suddenly disappeared, and the marriage was shifted to fall on the Third Young Miss instead. And right after that, the puppet holding the knife appeared at the Third Young Miss’s bedside…”

The proprietor shrugged. “Every family of siblings has their tensions, and these three aren’t even full siblings by blood — they’re fellow apprentices with different fathers and mothers. Ah, the waters of the Wei family run deep!”

At this point, new customers arrived at the stall. The proprietor immediately put on a welcoming smile and went to attend to them. With strangers present, it was no longer convenient to probe further. Ming Huashang exchanged a look with the other two, Jiang Ling placed money on the table, and the three of them quietly slipped away.

Once they were at a safe distance, Ren Yao lowered her voice: “Do you think what the proprietor said is true?”

Ming Huashang mused: “I chose that stall at random — there was no way to arrange anything in advance. He sells food, and the Wei family sells puppets — there’s no business entanglement between them, so I can’t think of a reason he would lie.”

Jiang Ling cracked his knuckles eagerly. “True or false, let’s go into the Wei residence and see for ourselves.”

The three of them were still talking when they arrived at the Wei family’s gate. The person on the steps turned around, and eyes black as jade swept lightly over them as he said to the Wei family’s steward, “No need to trouble the steward further — my troublesome younger siblings have been found.”

Ming Huashang watched the scene before her and blinked slowly, unable to make sense of what was happening. Xie Jichuan stood there with a folding fan in one hand, smiling at them — his tone somewhere between a reminder and a warning: “Fifth Sister, your elder brother thought you had gotten lost and has been worried for some time. We came to Luoyang to purchase incense and candles for the ancestral rites — not to go sightseeing. Aren’t you going to come over and apologize?”

Ming Huashang understood. Their cover identities were those of out-of-town visitors who had come to Luoyang to purchase incense and candles for a funeral — puppets were on the shopping list as well. Her assigned role was probably that of a spoiled, rambunctious country girl.

Ming Huashang immediately put on a reluctant expression and shuffled over to stand beside Ming Huazhang. “Elder Brother, I was wrong.”

She still didn’t know what identity Ming Huazhang had arranged for her, so she didn’t dare call anything else — but meekly saying “Elder Brother” was always safe. Ming Huazhang glanced at her briefly, his gaze like the sky after snow — clear but without warmth — and said, “Stay close to me.”

The steward, watching from the side, smiled: “Master Cui, you and your younger sister are truly close. The Cui family is a distinguished noble house indeed — not only are the young master and young miss each exceptionally handsome and graceful, but your bond is so warm as well.”

Xie Jichuan followed behind and smiled slightly, saying, “The steward is too kind. Along the way we heard that Proprietor Wei took in three apprentices, treating them — regardless of sex — as his own children and teaching them everything he knew. Proprietor Wei is truly benevolent at heart; it is no wonder his business has grown so large.”

“Not at all, not at all,” the steward said, smiling back — though his smile looked strained no matter how one looked at it. At that moment, a hoarse laugh drifted in from within the Wei residence: “Distinguished guests have honored us with their presence — forgive my lack of ceremony in failing to welcome you sooner.”

The five of them turned at the sound. The man walking at the front was dressed in a long robe. His complexion was fair, his eyes bright, and even his beard did not diminish the refinement of his appearance — one could see that in his youth he had been a handsome man. He appeared to be around forty, without a trace of heaviness about him; the way he moved had a distinct rhythm, and his bearing could be called elegant.

This must be the master of the Wei residence — Wei Yanqing. Ming Huashang was a little surprised. Judging from his voice, she had imagined a decrepit old man; she hadn’t expected Wei Yanqing to be quite so distinguished in person.

With looks like that — how had he ended up with such a grating voice?

Behind Wei Yanqing followed a young man who appeared to be around twenty, with thick brows and striking features — a solid, upright appearance that was easy to like. Unfortunately his spirits seemed poor; he moved through the world in a daze, and that haze diminished his handsomeness.

Wei Yanqing greeted Ming Huazhang, who returned the courtesy, and once everyone had settled, Wei Yanqing gestured toward the young man behind him and said, “This is this humble one’s eldest apprentice, Wei Moyuan. The boy is unworthy — I hope he will not invite Master Cui’s mockery.”

He then turned to Wei Moyuan, his tone carrying an undercurrent of pressure: “Moyuan, come quickly and pay your respects to the distinguished guests.”

Great clan families had grown diminished in recent times, with the scholar-official class rising through the examination system in their stead, and the old aristocracy had long since lost its voice in the imperial court. Yet the influence of over a century of clan rule could not be erased in an instant. The common people still regarded the great houses with deep reverence — particularly the so-called Five Surnames and Seven Lineages at the peak of that world, who commanded enormous prestige among the populace.

Wei Yanqing had seen many of the powerful and noble over the years, and those who purchased his family’s puppets were no strangers to chancellors and high officials — but the Cui family of Boling had actually heard of him, and had even come to his door to place an order.

This was an honor of no small consequence for Wei Yanqing. He was intent on making this transaction a success, and here was Wei Moyuan looking completely absent-minded — enough to make Wei Yanqing’s anger silently blaze.

Wei Moyuan suddenly heard his master’s voice and startled, immediately bowing his head in apology: “Master, forgive me — I just remembered the puppets haven’t been painted yet. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Wei Yanqing gave him a look, then turned back with a full smile and cupped his hands toward Ming Huazhang. “My apprentice is unused to company of this caliber — I hope Master Cui will not laugh at him. May I ask what kind of puppets the Young Master requires? As long as it is within the Wei family’s abilities, we will do our utmost and will not disappoint.”

Ming Huazhang said, “My grandmother is gravely ill, and I have come to Luoyang on my uncle’s behalf to prepare what is needed for her final passage. For something intended for my grandmother, cost is of secondary concern — what matters is that it is done properly. I heard along the way that your family’s puppets have encountered some difficulties?”

Wei Yanqing’s smile stiffened. He said, “How could that be? I would not presume to make claims about anything else, but when it comes to burial puppets, if we call ourselves second in Luoyang, no one would dare call themselves first. Those are all rumors from the neighborhood — they cannot be taken seriously.”

“Is that so?” Ming Huazhang still wore that expression of cool indifference, unmoved, and said, “And yet what I have heard is that your puppets attack their owners — that they have even caused deaths?”

Puppets were meant to serve the deceased in the underworld — if they turned on their masters instead, the implications were grave. Wei Yanqing couldn’t help but look more sharply at Ming Huazhang, only to find the young master’s expression still cool and detached as he said, “The Cui family is not concerned with reputation — the one thing we hold inviolable is the principle of filial piety. If it is inconvenient for Proprietor Wei to speak of this, then so be it.”

Ming Huazhang finished speaking and turned to leave, his manner so lofty that it was as though it were not the Cui family who had come to buy from the Wei family, but the Wei family that had been begging to sell to them. Ming Huashang silently caught her breath — they were leaving just like that? Had Ming Huazhang put on airs a little too extravagantly?

But for all her inward misgivings, Ming Huashang didn’t hesitate in her movements, and followed immediately after Ming Huazhang. Jiang Ling wavered, but Xie Jichuan shot him a look and dragged him away.

They descended the steps and had not gone more than a few strides when Wei Yanqing’s voice sounded behind them: “Master Cui, please wait. Ah — it is my fault for managing the household poorly. I had thought this to be a family embarrassment, not fit to be spoken of to outsiders. But since the Young Master is concerned, I see no harm in explaining the circumstances to him.”

Jiang Ling’s eyes went wide. He looked toward Ming Huazhang in astonishment, genuinely wondering whether Wei Yanqing had some form of masochistic tendency. Ming Huazhang had put on such an insufferably superior attitude, and Wei Yanqing was still racing to please him?

Jiang Ling could not comprehend it.

Ming Huazhang was not at all surprised by this. He glanced quietly at Jiang Ling with a warning in his eyes to compose himself, then turned around at his own unhurried pace and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh? How so?”

Wei Yanqing sighed, and said, “The rumors about puppets attacking their owners most likely originated with my second apprentice, Wei Baixuan. In truth, it was no puppet attack — it was simply that this child had a quarrel with me and locked herself inside the puppet workshop, refusing to eat or drink. I assumed she was working on puppets and thought nothing of it. But several days passed, and when I sensed something was wrong and had someone force the door open, I found that she had taken her own life.”

Ming Huazhang’s brow rose slightly. “She took her own life?”

“That is correct.” Wei Yanqing heaved a long sigh. “When she died, she was surrounded by puppets — it looked as though the puppets had killed her, and so the rumor of puppets attacking their owners spread. Suicide is not an honorable thing, and given the nature of our family’s trade, I feared clients would think too much of it. I had the news suppressed, and told the outside world that the second apprentice had simply gone missing. Once time passes and the gossip fades, I will give her a proper burial.”

Ming Huashang found that the surname Cui was wonderfully useful. These words — even if the court’s own officials had come to ask, Wei Yanqing might not have been willing to say them.

Of course, some of the credit belonged to Ming Huazhang as well. His features were coldly, sharply beautiful, his bearing dignified and refined; standing there, he was the living image of the aristocratic noble scion from everyone’s imagination. No one would doubt whether he was genuinely from the Cui family — especially since he wore that expression of a peak too lofty to ascend. The more aloof and indifferent he was, the more desperately others wanted to please him.

This contradictory psychology was, in essence, just human nature at its basest.

Ming Huashang quietly admired Ming Huazhang’s knack for finding the crack in someone’s defenses, while at the same time clutching Ming Huazhang’s arm in feigned terror: “What? Someone died here? Elder Brother, this place is frightening — let’s leave quickly.”

Ren Yao and Jiang Ling had been listening intently, so when Ming Huashang suddenly let out that wail they were both startled. Jiang Ling stared at Ming Huashang burying herself against Ming Huazhang’s shoulder in shock, the sound of small distressed whimpers spilling from her, and his pupils dilated of their own accord.

He was only here because he couldn’t outargue the Marquis of Jiang’an, forced to find somewhere else to pass the time. But had joining the Xuan Xiaowei meant he had to go this far?

Ming Huazhang remained relatively composed. He placed a steadying hand on Ming Huashang’s shoulder and half-embraced his startled “younger sister,” saying, “My younger sister is timid and very frightened of the dead. If you will pardon my boldness in asking — the body of your apprentice, is it still within the Wei residence?”

Only then did Jiang Ling understand Ming Huashang’s purpose. He thought privately: thank goodness Ming Huazhang had been quick enough to catch the thread of Ming Huashang’s performance and run with it — because with acting this abrupt and overwrought, if Ming Huazhang hadn’t picked it up and carried it, they would certainly have given themselves away.

A look of something difficult to name flashed briefly across Wei Yanqing’s face, and he said, “The Young Master and Young Miss need not worry — we have made appropriate arrangements for my second apprentice’s remains, and they will not disturb our distinguished guests.”

Ren Yao was skeptical. “Is that so?”

Wei Yanqing assured them again and again. As guests, they could hardly insist on being shown the body — there was no reasonable grounds for such a demand. Ren Yao had no recourse and was forced to let the matter of the body go for the moment.

Ming Huashang, for the sake of keeping up the performance, had her face pressed against Ming Huazhang’s chest, her shoulders trembling cooperatively in small, rhythmic shudders. She quietly tugged at Ming Huazhang’s robe, signaling that she wanted him to ask to see the site where Wei Baixuan had died.

If someone had been brought to the point of suicide, it meant their emotions had completely overwhelmed their rational mind, and they would certainly have left behind a wealth of psychological traces at the scene. And Wei Baixuan’s place of death happened to be the very workshop where the puppets were made — Ming Huashang was convinced the location must hold a great number of clues.

Ming Huazhang caught Ming Huashang’s hint, and pressed her hand — but the words that came out of his mouth went in the opposite direction entirely: “Given that someone has recently died here, the yin energy must be heavy. Fifth Sister, you should go outside for now.”

Ming Huashang was taken aback and looked up disbelievingly. “What?”

But Ming Huazhang had already taken her by the shoulders and drawn her away, turning to address Jiang Ling and Ren Yao: “Take Fifth Sister for a walk outside. Don’t frighten her.”

The steward understood that noble families of this kind had a great many rules and customs — the aristocratic young ladies they raised with such care were certainly not to come near the dead. He immediately chimed in: “The Young Master is quite right. The Young Miss is a distinguished guest — how could we have a distinguished guest waiting outside? Why doesn’t the Young Miss come and rest in our garden?”

Wei Yanqing, equally eager to please, said, “Quite so — it was my oversight, and I nearly caused an offense to Miss Cui. The Young Miss is surely used to far finer things, so the humble residence may not be worthy of her eye, but I’ve just had the courtyard renovated — it is tolerable for a look, if the Young Miss would not find it unworthy.”

Ming Huashang was about to say something, but Ming Huazhang cut her off. “Then we shall trouble Proprietor Wei.”

Wei Yanqing was delighted. He turned and gave his eldest apprentice a look, saying, “Moyuan, will you not take Miss Cui for a tour of the garden? Compose yourself — if you show the Young Miss any discourtesy, see how I deal with you.”

Wei Moyuan had followed along behind Wei Yanqing in silence the whole time, like a shadow. Hearing this, he made an effort at a smile and bowed to Ming Huashang and the others: “Miss Cui, this way, please.”

Ming Huashang was entirely unwilling, but whether by her real identity or her false one, she had no power to override Ming Huazhang — so she could only follow Wei Moyuan toward the garden.

After Ming Huashang, Jiang Ling, and Ren Yao had gone, Ming Huazhang turned to Wei Yanqing and said, “Since the rumors were a misunderstanding, I am relieved. I should like to see the puppets — would you lead the way?”

Wei Yanqing was only too glad, and smiled as he said, “Of course — this way, Young Master.”

Wei Yanqing walked ahead. Xie Jichuan drifted unobtrusively to Ming Huazhang’s side and said with a teasing lilt, “You’re willing to let her out of your sight?”

“I’m not.” Ming Huazhang’s expression remained that same mask of cold superiority, his lips barely moving — impossible to tell he was speaking. “Which is why I sent those two along.”

Jiang Ling’s and Ren Yao’s analytical abilities were debatable, but if something truly dangerous arose, they could at least serve as a shield. They would do well enough posted at Ming Huashang’s side.

Xie Jichuan gave a near-soundless laugh, equally inaudible: “Her talent is singular. Han Jie almost certainly saw that, and that’s why he wanted to bring her into the fold. If she really can sketch a portrait of the killer, then sending her away like this — aren’t you hampering the investigation?”

“No need,” Ming Huazhang said. “The case can be solved without a portrait. But she will eventually have to leave the Xuan Xiaowei, and the more deeply she becomes involved in this, the more it harms her.”

Xie Jichuan shrugged. “As you like. After all, it’s not my promotion on the line.”

On the other side, Wei Moyuan led Ming Huashang through the garden, and Ming Huashang was quiet. Wei Moyuan was equally quiet.

One could see that Wei Yanqing had accumulated considerable wealth over the years — the residence was imposing — but the Wei household was sparse with people, and most of the courtyards sat vacant and untended. Trees and grass had grown in dense and unchecked, blotting out the sky, and walking through the silent corridors felt subtly eerie, as though the air itself had grown faintly haunted.

Ming Huashang studied Wei Moyuan quietly. He clearly was in poor spirits, walking along entirely lost within his own thoughts.

Someone as shrewd as Proprietor Wei would not have trained an apprentice who lacked even the basic manners of a host — unless Wei Moyuan had recently suffered something momentous enough to make him oblivious even to external stimuli.

Ming Huashang kept her expression natural and asked with an air of idle curiosity: “Wei Da-langjun, what kind of tree is this?”

Wei Moyuan came to himself and looked over. “Ah — that is a scholar tree.”

The scholar trees were tall, planted in a row along the wall. In late summer they would surely be magnificent in bloom, but now they bore no flowers — only dark, gnarled branches twisting upward, which from a certain angle looked like a row of ghostly claws, reaching and grasping at something in the empty air.

Ming Huashang asked, “Why are there so many scholar trees here?”

Wei Moyuan made an effort to be a proper host and said, “Master says scholar tree pods contain many seeds — many seeds, much fortune, many sons — so when he bought this courtyard he planted a great many.”

The word for “scholar tree pod” carried a phonetic echo of “bearing children.” One could sense how ardently Wei Yanqing had hoped for a son — yet the more one hopes, the more it eludes one. Jiang Ling said, “I see Proprietor Wei is not particularly old — why is it that after all these years of hoping, he still has no child?”

Ren Yao shoved into Jiang Ling hard, glaring at him furiously: “Do you have any sense of what to say and what not to say?”

Wei Moyuan was the eldest apprentice, and with Proprietor Wei having no biological children, it fell to him to inherit the household. Bringing up the topic in front of Wei Moyuan — wasn’t that just asking for trouble?

Wei Moyuan gave a slight cough and said, “It is of no matter. To be honest with you, Master was once a puppeteer in an opera troupe, but he accidentally ate something harmful and fell gravely ill, and his voice was ruined afterward. Unable to perform, he was driven from the troupe. He took me with him, and the two of us wandered and scraped by, never properly caring for his health. Eventually, we managed to establish ourselves in Luoyang, and the puppet business gradually began to thrive — for the first time we had money to spare. Master then went to seek medical advice, but the physician told him the illness had left a deep underlying damage, and that having children would likely be difficult from then on. Over the years Master has spared no effort in seeking cures and praying at temples, but to no avail. In time his wish faded, and later he took in Second Apprentice Sister and Third Apprentice Sister — he poured himself into teaching the three of us and no longer spoke of heirs.”

The three of them were all somewhat startled — none of them had expected Wei Yanqing to carry this history behind him.

Puppet theatre had many schools, but broadly speaking all of them required the performer to simultaneously manipulate the puppet and sing — exacting demands on the performer’s every skill.

No wonder, Ming Huashang thought, that Wei Yanqing’s gait had a particular rhythm and grace — he had trained for it. Once his voice gave out, he could no longer perform; but he knew puppet-craft inside and out, and ultimately found his fortune making burial puppets for the dead — an unintended path that had led to unexpected flourishing.

Ming Huashang asked, “So Proprietor Wei had such a past. If I may ask — what style of puppetry did he once perform?”

“String puppetry.”

Ming Huashang’s eyes lit with admiration. “String puppetry — the most difficult of them all. How extraordinary! And Da-langjun, as Master Wei’s senior apprentice, you must also be able to perform beautifully?”

Ming Huashang had a pair of beautiful almond-shaped eyes, and she was always smiling — when she looked at someone and said “how extraordinary,” almost no man could hold himself against it. Wei Moyuan was no exception, and he instinctively started to agree — but the words nearly out of his mouth, he remembered his master’s aversion to it, and lowered his gaze instead. “I must disappoint the Young Miss — I do not know puppetry.”

Ming Huashang looked genuinely deflated. “Is that so? The family rarely lets me leave the house, and I have never managed to see puppetry performed.”

Facing a sixteen-year-old girl whose eager anticipation visibly dimmed before his eyes, even Ren Yao felt a pang of discomfort — let alone a man. Sure enough, Wei Moyuan felt remorse, and said, “Miss Cui, I am sorry. But the voice is Master’s sore spot — the moment he hears puppetry he becomes furious, and he forbids any of us from practicing it privately. If the Young Miss would like to see anything else, I will gladly do whatever I can, but puppetry…”

Ming Huashang hadn’t really been interested in seeing puppetry — seeing his reaction, she quickly said, “Not at all — it was thoughtless of me to put Da-langjun in a difficult position. Da-langjun is truly devoted and dutiful. Though Proprietor Wei has no children of his own, having the three of you as apprentices to keep him company may be worth more than any ordinary son. When the time comes for Proprietor Wei’s old age, Da-langjun is his son, Second Apprentice Sister his daughter-in-law, Third Apprentice Sister his daughter — what a blessed man he is…”

Ming Huashang said this, then made a show of catching herself and covering her mouth. She discreetly tugged Ren Yao’s sleeve, waiting for Ren Yao to play along. Ren Yao’s face went crimson trying to think of something — she simply could not perform — and in desperation she pinched Jiang Ling hard.

Jiang Ling let out an involuntary yelp: “A man—”

He had been about to say “a man-woman like you has gone crazy,” but catching the eyes of both Ming Huashang and Wei Moyuan, he wrenched his words around, and said instead with a weight of feeling: “Don’t bring up painful things. Didn’t Proprietor Wei just say — the Second Apprentice Sister took her own life? What daughter-in-law?”

Ming Huashang let out a breath of relief. Thank goodness — Jiang Ling had smoothed it over. Good thing the troupe still had her as its backbone. Ming Huashang picked up the thread, her wide eyes carrying four parts remorse, three parts sorrow, two parts pity, and one part fear — in exactly the right proportions: “Forgive me — I forgot that Second Young Miss has already… Ah, Wei-langjun, please accept my condolences.”

Wei Moyuan managed a stiff smile and lowered his eyes, his gaze evasive. Jiang Ling said, “What is there to look so mournful about? A true man need not fear finding a wife — find another woman, grow old together serving Proprietor Wei. Isn’t that the simple solution?”

“That’s true,” Ming Huashang said, watching Wei Moyuan’s expression carefully. “Though I don’t know why Second Young Miss took her own life, if she truly loved you, then surely she would have wanted you to be happy. Once she has been properly laid to rest, find a woman you care for and make a life together — she would not blame you for it.”

Wei Moyuan’s lips moved silently. An expression crossed his face that was simultaneously guilty, relieved, and pained — all at once.

Ming Huashang was about to press further when suddenly a piercing, harrowing cry rang out from within the courtyard: “Ah — she’s here! She’s here again!”

Wei Moyuan heard the voice and jerked his head up, alarm blazing through his eyes in an instant: “Zhu Yan!”

Without a thought for his master’s instructions, he bolted like a man possessed in the direction of the sound. Ren Yao was startled by his sudden movement and instinctively went on guard: “What’s he playing at?”

Ming Huashang looked toward where he had gone. “Follow him and see.”

Ming Huashang, Ren Yao, and Jiang Ling ran after Wei Moyuan into a courtyard. Unlike the other empty, overgrown yards, this small garden was particularly exquisite and refined — clearly a woman’s private quarters, and a woman who was well-cherished at that.

Ming Huashang had already formed a guess in her mind: this must be the living quarters of Wei Yanqing’s third apprentice, his most pampered younger apprentice sister — Wei Zhùyàn. Ming Huashang lifted her skirts and stepped over the threshold, and sure enough she saw a young woman standing in the room.

She was dressed only in a single layer, her hair hanging loose, and through the curtain of her hair one could faintly make out delicate, fine-boned features. But any sense of beauty was entirely gone from her now. She was seizing everything within reach, not even looking at what she was grabbing, hurling it to the ground in a frenzy: “I know it’s you! White Xuan, you’re already dead — why won’t you let me go?”

Wei Moyuan saw this and cried out in anguish, “Zhu Yan, there is nothing in this room — you’re having a delusion!”

He tried again and again to run to Wei Zhùyàn’s side, but each time the things she was flinging wildly kept him at bay. Wei Zhùyàn was favored with no shortage of decorative objects in her quarters, but right now — whether the prized white jade or the rare Sogdian gold — everything had become her ammunition, flung one after another at her enemy.

She looked utterly deranged, as though there truly were something terrifying before her. And yet what she was flinging herself against, and striking with all her fury, was nothing more than a puppet.

The puppet was about half a person’s height, with a face as white as paper, but its eyes, rouge, and lips were rendered with exquisite precision, its clothing made as on a real person, every detail faithful — even its fingers had been crafted as five separate digits. It lay on the ground, submitting in silence to Wei Zhùyàn’s beating and curses.

Wei Zhùyàn reached the end of herself and heaved the bronze mirror from the dressing table, hurling it down. The mirror had been polished to a paper-thin gleam, but thrown like this it became a blade. It caught the puppet squarely on the neck. The puppet’s head flew off, bounced twice on the ground, and rolled in a meandering line to the hem of Ming Huashang’s skirt.

Ming Huashang looked down. The puppet head — its features striving toward the lifelike, only its eyes painted a solid, unbroken black — had been caught by the edge of her skirt. Its lips curved in a faint and indeterminate arc, its expression deeply strange, like something doing its utmost to imitate life without quite grasping the principle of it. Those unusually large black eyes were fixed and unmoving, yet Ming Huashang felt a sudden irrational impression that it was looking at her.

And then, as she watched, those eyes seemed to blink — and from them welled two trails of bloody tears, tracing uneven lines down its upturned lips.