Ming Huashang’s voice was soft, her head tilted back, her dark eyes blinking up at him with an expression that said: I’ve gone this far to appeal to you — surely you won’t still hold it against me. Ming Huazhang was helpless, and yet truly could not hold it against her.
Ming Huazhang could only keep a cold expression and give her one severe look, issuing a threat he did not believe himself: “This had better be the last time.”
Ming Huashang’s eyes immediately lit up with a smile. She nodded at a rapid-fire pace like a little chick pecking rice, her gaze utterly sincere — but in her heart… she had almost certainly not taken it to heart at all.
Ming Huazhang sighed inwardly, and under her expectant gaze, tore open the seal. Ming Huashang watched her elder brother, with all his cool and lofty bearing, tear through the seal with steady, swift, ruthless hands, and clicked her tongue, muttering under her breath: “Only the magistrate is allowed to set fires; the common people are not allowed even to light lamps — and yet here you are, just ripping it open.”
Ming Huazhang glanced sidelong at her. Ming Huashang instantly swallowed her complaint and blinked with an expression of perfect docility.
Once the courtyard gate was open, Ming Huashang peered inside. Ming Huazhang followed behind her, stepping through the gate at an unhurried pace.
What met the eye was a simple, small courtyard — three rooms in a row facing the entrance, the walls on both sides built high, withered weeds and white frost in the corners, the feeling of standing inside like being caged by heaven and earth. The room doors also bore official seals. Ming Huashang pressed herself against the window paper to peer in and asked: “Second Elder Brother, when were these seals put up?”
“After Chu Jun’s case broke. I gave the order to seal it.” Ming Huazhang clasped his hands behind his back and walked to the door. His slender fingers simply and decisively shredded the paper, performing the most destructive act with the most composed of manners. Seeing Ming Huashang staring at him wide-eyed, he dusted the scraps from his fingertips with perfect equanimity and said: “I am the Deputy Magistrate of Chang’an Prefecture. Breaking the seal is part of conducting an investigation.”
Ming Huashang opened her mouth and closed it again, and finally nodded: “That’s right. You’re completely correct.”
Four years had passed since the murder, during which the courtyard had been occupied by various people. Neither Ming Huashang nor Ming Huazhang expected to find any concrete clues. What they were here for today was more to assess the layout of the space.
Ming Huashang rifled through the room as she spoke to Ming Huazhang: “Second Elder Brother, have you questioned the Purdu Temple monks?”
“I read through their testimonies from four years ago,” Ming Huazhang said. “After Chu Jun’s case broke, I brought people to the temple and questioned everyone myself. I have a general understanding.”
“Then you should know that on the day Chu Jun was attacked, Purdu Temple closed its gates early and no one left — and that on the day Huang Caiwei died, she was alone in this side room, with no one seeing her leave. Is that right?”
Ming Huazhang gave a cool “mn”: “I know.”
“Then it is strange.” Ming Huashang stood in the room, thoroughly puzzled. “Both incidents seem to have nothing to do with the temple’s monks — so why would the culprit choose the vicinity of this temple?”
This was exactly what Ming Huazhang could not figure out either. Normally a body disposal site was closely linked to the killer’s location; since the bodies had all been found near Purdu Temple, the culprit should have been living there. Yet the monks all had alibis, and their testimonies corroborated one another — it was genuinely baffling.
The room’s interior was simple. In the very center hung a painted bodhisattva, below it a meditation cushion, with curtains draped on either side, creating an impression of icy severity and stagnant gloom. Apart from items for Buddhist worship, there was only a hard couch against the east wall — not the kind of place that felt suited to any prolonged leisure.
Ming Huashang knelt on the meditation cushion and looked up at the painted bodhisattva before her — adorned with a sash around the waist, robes like morning clouds, eighteen arms each holding a ritual implement — and said: “There is another thing I’m not sure whether it matters or not. The Purdu Temple novice had quite a few grievances about the temple’s incense offerings. He feels this incident is being deliberately stoked by someone to slander them.”
Ming Huazhang walked to stand behind Ming Huashang, looking at the splendid and imposing yet inexplicably eerie bodhisattva painting alongside her. “This is the Cundi Bodhisattva, one of the six bodhisattvas revered by Esoteric Buddhism. Purdu Temple follows the Esoteric sect, but most temples in Chang’an follow the Chan sect. Even temples of the same sect compete fiercely over worshippers — let alone different schools.”
Ming Huashang gave a surprised sound: “Are there really so many different schools just for worshipping the Buddha?”
“Of course,” Ming Huazhang said. “Three people will have different opinions, let alone all the followers Buddhism has attracted. Even with only one Gautama, different followers understood the Buddha and the path of cultivation in different ways, and in the end those differences evolved into completely distinct schools.”
As he spoke, Ming Huazhang lowered his gaze to Ming Huashang: “Why are you kneeling there?”
“I’m trying to feel what Huang Caiwei felt when she worshipped here — why she could spend a whole day in this room. Even if she was devout, could her maid really have patiently endured it?”
Ming Huazhang did not press her to hurry, but lifted his robe and sat down beside her, gazing at the bodhisattva painting with her. Ming Huashang was startled and quickly turned: “Second Elder Brother, what are you doing?”
“Keeping you company.” Seen from the side, Ming Huazhang had broad shoulders, a slender waist, a long neck — sitting there with an air that was at once graceful and dignified, full of a youthful spirit. “Don’t mind me, just do what you need to.”
The two of them knelt side by side before the bodhisattva, and there was somehow an air about it of a devout man and woman praying for a good marriage. Ming Huashang’s thoughts were in a slight tangle. She silently apologized to the Buddha and was just about to stand, when a plaintive, melodious sound of a flute drifted in from outside.
Ming Huashang halted mid-movement and turned in surprise: “Who is playing a flute here?”
“He is playing the Mantra of Rebirth — to guide the deceased into rebirth, dispel all karmic hindrances, and lead them to the Pure Land,” Ming Huazhang said. “Perhaps he is playing it to offer solace to the departed.”
Ming Huashang only half understood this, and she was just about to continue discussing Huang Caiwei with Ming Huazhang when Ming Huazhang’s brows suddenly sharpened, his gaze cutting like a blade toward one particular spot: “Who’s there?”
Ming Huashang was startled and scrambled to her feet; Ming Huazhang had already given chase. Ming Huashang hurried to the doorway and saw Ming Huazhang standing in the corridor, staring coldly ahead at the fork in the path.
Ming Huashang ran to catch up: “Second Elder Brother, what is it?”
Ming Huazhang slowly shook his head, his gaze stern and composed: “Someone was spying on us just now. They were clearly very familiar with the temple’s layout — the moment I gave chase, they disappeared.”
Ming Huashang felt a prickle of wariness too: “Spying? Were they watching us, or watching Huang Caiwei’s side room?”
“Hard to say.” Ming Huazhang clasped his hands behind his back, turned, and with his other hand naturally curved around Ming Huashang’s shoulders and guided her toward the exit. “It isn’t safe here. I’ll have someone escort you back to the manor.”
Before Ming Huashang could react, her body was already being steered along by Ming Huazhang’s one arm, and she stumbled forward. She quickly grabbed his sleeve and shook her head vigorously: “I don’t want to leave! Second Elder Brother, I finally got a chance to come out — let me stay a little longer…”
Ming Huazhang was unmoved: “Whenever you want to come out, I’ll accompany you. But not here.”
His brow did not waver; his eyes were cool and calm; he was as immovable as stone. Seeing that appealing to his reason was useless, Ming Huashang simply reached out and hugged him, shifting from coaxing to outright stubbornness: “I don’t care. I’m staying with you no matter what.”
Ming Huazhang had not expected this tactic. He quickly swept his gaze around them, kept a stiff expression, and began prying her hands off, though his ears had quietly turned red: “What are you doing — there are still people here.”
“I just won’t. If you’re not afraid of your subordinates seeing this and it damaging your dignity, then by all means go ahead.”
The two of them — more precisely, Ming Huazhang, who was unilaterally being clung to by Ming Huashang — were interrupted when a door across from them opened. The person inside saw them, paused briefly, and smiled, cupping his hands in greeting: “Ah, so it is Chang’an Prefecture conducting an investigation here. I offer my respects.”
Ming Huazhang’s official robes were unmistakable, their color clearly marking his rank. Ming Huashang had only allowed herself to be so presumptuous because there had seemed to be no one around. She had not expected to be caught in the act — her cheeks went hot, and she quickly let go.
Ming Huazhang had been prying Ming Huashang’s hands away without mercy only moments before, but the instant someone appeared, his instinct was to push her behind him. He looked up, recognized the newcomer, and returned the courtesy with equal composure, shielding Ming Huashang naturally: “May I ask who you are, sir?”
Someone who could identify the markings of Chang’an Prefecture at a glance was clearly also a court official. The newcomer smiled and raised a hand: “I am Lu Du, Erudite of the National Academy’s National Studies Directorate — a minor official of no significance.”
Ming Huashang peeked out from behind Ming Huazhang’s sleeve.
The man standing opposite was refined and handsome, graceful in bearing, with a jade-white flute in his hand — the very picture of a gentleman of quality.
So it was he who had been playing the flute just now. Ming Huashang was genuinely surprised. The National Academy was the highest institution of learning in the court; only descendants of great aristocratic clans were admitted. For such a young man to already hold the position of Erudite of the National Studies Directorate was no small thing.
And then there was his surname: Lu. Lu was not a common surname, and in Chang’an it almost always pointed to only one possibility.
— He was from the Fan Yang Lu Clan.
Upon hearing the man’s name, Ming Huazhang calmly returned the greeting: “I am Ming Huazhang. My younger sister and I were playing around just now — forgive us for the spectacle, Erudite Lu.”
Lu Du glanced at the upright-standing young man and the pair of round, watchful eyes peeking out behind him, and smiled: “So you are Deputy Magistrate Ming — a pleasure to meet you. I have long heard that this year’s top examination graduate has dazzled all of Chang’an with his exceptional talent and appearance. It is a pity I never had the opportunity to meet you until today. Having now seen you, Deputy Magistrate Ming, I find the reputation is well deserved.”
Ming Huazhang exchanged pleasantries calmly. After a few polite remarks, he said: “I must first escort my younger sister back to the manor and beg your pardon — I shall take my leave.”
Lu Du immediately raised a hand: “But of course — please go ahead, Deputy Magistrate Ming.”
After saying his farewell, Ming Huazhang led Ming Huashang away. As they passed each other, Ming Huashang glanced up and gave Lu Du a polite smile.
Lu Du’s smile deepened, and he acknowledged Ming Huashang with a slight nod.
After being caught by someone, Ming Huashang did not dare misbehave any further, and obediently followed Ming Huazhang out of the temple. They deliberately left by the rear gate, walking through the forest for about half a pot of tea’s time before they reached the roped-off area where Huang Caiwei and her servants had been killed.
Once it was certain no one was around, Ming Huazhang spared Ming Huashang a glance and said: “Are you at peace now?”
Ming Huashang puffed her cheeks and gave an unwilling huff: “Fine — but come home early today. Eat a proper lunch, and don’t stay out too late tonight.”
“Mn.”
Ming Huashang nudged him, displeased: “Say it properly — don’t be vague.”
Ming Huazhang sighed in resigned helplessness: “All right, I’ll definitely be home early. Now go back — keep your attendants close on the road, and don’t let the guards leave you.”
Ming Huashang agreed, and Zhao Cai and the others, who had been hanging back this whole time, came forward. Ming Huashang walked a step or two, surrounded by them, then suddenly turned back. Against a backdrop of mountains blazing with red leaves and a vast, clear autumn sky, she called out: “What do you want to eat tonight?”
Ming Huazhang could not help but smile. The deep-autumn sunlight fell over him as if tracing a border of gold, dazzling and dizzying: “As long as you’ve prepared it — anything is fine.”
Ming Huashang had gone out early in the morning to check on her elder brother, and on the way back into the city she made a quick pass through the East Market, returning home with a whole cart full of large and small parcels. Ever since she had taken on the hollow reputation of a cultivator, she had thoroughly given up on keeping up appearances — she could not even be bothered to make a token appearance at the Old Madam’s quarters anymore. After lunch she took a nap, and when she woke, rubbing her drowsy eyes, she took out her brush and began organizing the leads from Purdu Temple.
She drew several diagrams, but each time felt something was wrong, and burned them in the candle flame. Ming Huashang let out a long sigh and slumped wearily over her writing desk.
This was the least confident she had ever felt about a portrait profile since she had started working on cases. The greatest difficulty came from the scene itself — the case records from four years ago were vague and incomplete, and the current murder scene had something inexplicably off about it. No matter how she tried, Ming Huashang could not sketch out what kind of person the culprit ought to be.
Ming Huashang pulled at her hair all afternoon, until she finally had no choice but to admit that it wasn’t going to work. She needed more leads before she could draw a profile. When the time seemed about right, she ran over to the Qinghui Courtyard to wait.
The Qinghui Courtyard was dark and cold, clearly empty. The page boys, seeing her come, eagerly invited her in. Shu Li was about to light lamps and serve tea, but Ming Huashang stopped her.
Ming Huashang looked at the room — even in darkness, it was clean, tidy, and orderly — and suddenly changed her mind. Just sitting there waiting for him was too dull. She was going to give him a surprise!
Ming Huashang sent all the attendants out, then commanded them strictly not to say a word to Ming Huazhang. Shu Li knew how much the Second Young Master doted on his younger sister. Grimacing, she watched the Second Young Lady shut the doors and windows tight and go on a bustling spree through the room, refusing to let them ask any questions.
They were finished. When the Second Young Master came back and found out they had allowed the Second Young Lady to wait alone in the dark, he would surely have them all executed.
Ming Huashang called upon everything she had ever learned at Xuan Xiaowei, shut the doors and windows, erased all traces, and disguised the room to look as though no one had entered. She then hid herself behind the curtain, eagerly waiting to give Ming Huazhang a fright.
The plan was perfect. The only thing she had not counted on was that while she waited, Ming Huazhang had still not come home — and she fell asleep first.