Leaves fell in rustling cascades. The sun sank behind the western hills, and the grove murmured and moaned in the gloom. Before the sky had gone completely dark, Ming Huazhang at last arrived, treading in the last embers of the sunset.

Ming Huazhang brought Ming Huashang to pay their respects to the Duchess of Chengguo and Duke Chengguo, offered their sincere thanks, and only then took their leave. As the two of them stepped outside, Ming Huashang asked in surprise: “Second Elder Brother, why did you take so long?”

She had expected him to come fetch her by afternoon at the latest, yet he had not appeared until nearly dark.

Ming Huazhang walked through the rustling autumn wind, his manner cool and composed. “By the shen hour the questioning at the Imperial Academy was more or less finished,” he said. “I had intended to come for you, but there was an urgent summons to the palace, and so I was delayed.”

Ming Huashang was startled to learn that he had come directly from the imperial palace. “You just left the palace?”

Ming Huazhang gave a slight nod. They had already passed through the gates of Duke Chengguo’s estate, and the street outside was bustling with people coming and going. Not wishing to say much about palace affairs in public, he said, “Get in the carriage first. We can talk about the rest when we’re home.”

Ming Huashang understood well enough that walls have ears. Suppressing her worry, she took Ming Huazhang’s hand and climbed into the carriage. Only after she was settled did Ming Huazhang move to the other side, sweep his long legs up in one clean, unhurried motion, and mount the horse.

Ming Huashang managed to contain herself the entire journey. At long last the carriage rolled through the gates of Duke Zhenguo’s estate, and Ming Huashang did not even stop to return to her own courtyard — she went chasing after Ming Huazhang instead. “Second Elder Brother, wait for me!”

Zhao Cai leapt down from the carriage behind her and called out urgently, “My lady, where are you going? You haven’t eaten yet!”

The retreating figure ahead showed not the slightest inclination to pause, calling back without turning his head, “Send the food to Qinghui Courtyard.”

“Qinghui Courtyard again,” Zhao Cai muttered, unable to stop herself. “In the daytime it’s Qinghui Courtyard, in the evening it’s Qinghui Courtyard, and now even meals have to go to Qinghui Courtyard. In my opinion, Qinghui Courtyard is more like my lady’s own residence!”

Ming Huashang had no idea how her maidservant was grumbling about her. Her entire mind was fixed on Ming Huazhang as she hurried to catch up with him. “Second Elder Brother, what did the palace say?”

Ming Huazhang gave an almost inaudible sigh, and a rare flicker of weariness crossed his brow. “The chain-murder case has reached the palace. The Empress learned that a granddaughter of Duke Chengguo had been killed and took it extremely seriously. She has ordered the Imperial Guards to patrol the city and assist the Jing Zhao Prefecture in safeguarding the security of Chang’an, in order to calm the populace. She has also ordered the Crown Prince to oversee the case personally, commanding the Jing Zhao Prefecture to solve it before the new year without fail.”

Ming Huashang made a soft sound of surprise, and her very first thought was: “Elder Sister Ren and Jiang Ling are in the Imperial Guards, aren’t they? When the time comes to apprehend the killer, would it be possible to ask the two of them for help?”

Ming Huazhang gave her a mild sideways glance. “You haven’t the faintest lead on anyone yet, and already you’re thinking about how to make the arrest?”

Ming Huashang laughed and bounced forward, looping her arm through his. “Of course it will work out. I believe Second Elder Brother will certainly solve the case on time and catch the true culprit.”

Ming Huazhang sighed quietly. “I only wish I could be as optimistic as you.”

By the time they finished talking they had already entered the courtyard. These past few days Ming Huashang had been poring over case files and had spent virtually the entire day in Ming Huazhang’s rooms. Ming Huazhang put no guard up around her; he had even given her the key so she could look through anything on her own. Once inside, Ming Huashang stripped off her cape in a great hurry and darted straight to the writing desk.

Ming Huazhang followed her in, caught sight of her flinging things about carelessly, and gave a quiet sigh. He stooped to pick up the cape she had tossed aside, folded it neatly, then changed his outer robe and shoes before ambling over without any haste.

Ming Huashang was bent over the desk, a portrait half-finished beneath her brush. Ming Huazhang stood to one side and looked at it for a moment before saying, “Is that Cheng Siyue you’re drawing?”

“That’s right.” Ming Huashang dipped her brush and continued sweeping it across the paper. “Does it not look like her?”

Ming Huazhang fell silent for a moment, studying the inexpressible specimen of brushwork before him, and offered a diplomatic verdict: “It is… very direct.”

Ming Huashang set down her brush and held up the paper to look, finding herself thoroughly satisfied with it. “I think it’s very well done too. I spent the whole day at Duke Chengguo’s estate and gathered a great deal of information about Cheng Siyue. I guarantee this portrait has captured her very spirit.”

Indeed, though Cheng Siyue’s features in the portrait were crooked and, to put it kindly, hard to describe, there was a distinctive quality in the set of her brow. Ming Huashang took out the portrait of Chu Jun and laid it side by side with Cheng Siyue’s, then asked: “Chu Jun and the earlier victims all had leg bones removed, whereas Cheng Siyue was missing finger bones. The constables said it wasn’t the same perpetrator — what do you think, Second Elder Brother?”

“Utterly absurd.” Ming Huazhang sat down beside her. “Whether it was the same killer depends on the characteristics of the method, not on something as simple as which part of the body was targeted. There have been many savage murders, but taking bones is unique to this one case. The senior officials at the Court of Judicial Review and the Ministry of Justice all agree it is the same perpetrator.”

This view matched Ming Huashang’s own, yet she had one small lingering doubt. “Chu Jun as well?”

Ming Huazhang raised an eyebrow and turned the question back on her: “What do you think?”

In truth Ming Huazhang had this dim feeling as well. Going by Ming Huashang’s description of Cheng Siyue’s body, the killer had been able to sever the tendons of each finger and extract the finger bones whole. How could that same person have resorted to brute force when killing Chu Jun, hacking the kneecap to pieces? A person’s habits with a blade simply could not change so drastically.

Ming Huashang did not commit herself, only saying, “We’ll need to see what’s known about Huang Caiwei before we can decide. Has the Director of the Imperial Academy agreed to let us question people?”

Ming Huazhang sighed softly. “He has not.”

“What?” Ming Huashang was taken aback. “Another murder has occurred, and the killer may well be connected to his very own Imperial Academy — and he still refuses?”

Ming Huazhang could do nothing about it. “After I finished examining the site where the body was found I went directly to call on the Director, but he was furious, insisting that a killer could not possibly have any connection to the Imperial Academy. As for anything concerning the young Huang lady, he refused to say even one more word about it.”

Ming Huashang clicked her tongue, unable to comprehend a father who, for the sake of his own reputation, would not even inquire into how his own daughter had died. “Forget him for now. Second Elder Brother, what did you find today at the Imperial Academy?”

Ming Huazhang spoke in his orderly way: “Yesterday at the si hour, the National University’s morning session ended, and the eldest son of the Cheng family saw Cheng Siyue when he came out — a fact many people can attest to. At the time Cheng Siyue was entirely alone, without any maidservant. The servants, seeing that she was a daughter of Duke Chengguo’s household, dared not stop her and let her in. Young Master Cheng said he was very surprised to see her; his third younger sister was the most pampered girl in the family, but he had never expected Cheng Siyue to be so brazen as to come to the Imperial Academy — a place full of men — entirely by herself. He scolded her sharply, but leaving the grounds during class hours without permission was not allowed. Going to trouble the Academy Overseer for leave over such a trifling matter was not worth his while, so he asked someone to hire a carriage and had her sent back to Duke Chengguo’s estate. He watched her board the carriage from the gate, and then he went back inside. I confirmed the timeline and itinerary with the students who share his dormitory — everything matches.”

Ming Huashang quickly asked, “And the driver who took her away? Did you speak to him?”

“I did.” Ming Huazhang said. “He keeps his own horse and works as a for-hire driver around Chang’an, taking both short and long journeys, specifically ferrying people — especially women — who have no carriage of their own but need to travel. He said that on that day he was looking for passengers near the Imperial Academy when one of the Academy’s servants called him over and asked him to convey a young lady home. When they reached the area near the Eastern Market, the young lady said she wanted to go into the market to buy cloth and asked him to stop near Qinren Ward. The driver thought nothing of it, let her out, and left.”

Cheng Siyue had gotten out partway? “Has anyone seen her since?” Ming Huashang asked.

“None so far.” Ming Huazhang said. “I’ve sent people to make inquiries along the route to see if any witnesses can be found. And the driver’s account cannot be taken entirely at face value — I’ve already had people go to the Eastern Market’s carriage depot to make inquiries. There should be word by tomorrow.”

Listening to this, Ming Huashang was genuinely impressed. Look at the efficiency with which Ming Huazhang operated — he had said nothing about it, yet so much had already been done. What was especially admirable was that, for all he was the presiding magistrate, he kept a fair and humble mind. He would suspect even a witness; he would consider even a villain’s case for having been wrongly judged. A man this clever and diligent, yet neither arrogant nor impulsive — one whose actions spoke louder than words — was truly reliable.

“Second Elder Brother,” Ming Huashang said sincerely, “it is such a good thing that you exist.”

Ming Huazhang was dismissive of the compliment. “The court entrusted me with such an important case, yet as the magistrate of Chang’an, I have been unable to catch the killer all this time. What is good about that?”

Ming Huashang said nothing more. In her younger years she had once thought that someday she would surely find someone endearing, handsome, and witty, or someone who could be with her and indulge her at every moment, and spend her life with that person. But as she had slowly grown older and seen all manner of men and all manner of marriages, she had come to feel, quite suddenly, that reliability — simply that — was the highest praise one could bestow upon a man.

He was no god, unable to command the winds and rain and make everything go smoothly, shielding his wife from every gust and storm. But he was worthy of trust and of being entrusted with what mattered. Simply being with him made you believe that no matter what storms lay ahead, the two of you could weather them hand in hand.

Such a man — whether as an elder brother, a husband, a superior, or a subordinate — would make anyone feel at ease from the bottom of their heart. You would dare to place what mattered most in his hands, and dare to trust that no matter what happened, he would not betray that trust.

If Huang Caiwei and Cheng Siyue had had such a man beside them, would their wronged souls have had to wait so long for the light of day?

Ming Huashang lowered her eyes to the portrait of Cheng Siyue and said, “This is the second time the Imperial Academy has come up, isn’t it? Huang Caiwei was also the daughter of the Imperial Academy’s Director. Isn’t the Imperial Academy appearing in this a little too often?”

“I also feel the killer cannot be entirely unconnected to the Imperial Academy,” Ming Huazhang said. “Regular students cannot come and go freely, but officials such as the registrar, the academicians, and the teaching assistants can, as can the servants working within the grounds — all of these people must be considered possible suspects. Nor can we fully exclude the students themselves. The Academy’s management is strict, but there are ways in and out — all of these people will need to be carefully investigated.”

Ming Huashang frowned as she listened. “That will make a great many enemies.”

The Imperial Academy was no ordinary school — it was the highest academic institution in the land. Those who studied there were sons of marquises and dukes, descendants of high officials, and even foreign students from countries like Japan and Silla. To investigate these people one false step and you would be consumed by the fire you had lit.

Ming Huazhang lowered his eyes and ground the ink. In the candlelight his profile was like carved jade, cool as fine porcelain. “What does it matter to make enemies? If the killer is within the Imperial Academy, that is already the best-case scenario. What I truly worry about is that the killer is someone who encountered Cheng Siyue along the road — someone who acted on a sudden impulse upon seeing her alone.”

In the first scenario there was at least a way to narrow down the suspects by steady investigation. But if it were the second, it was truly like searching for a needle in the sea. And the Empress’s deadline for the Jing Zhao Prefecture was the new year. The Jing Zhao Prefect, quite shamelessly, had shoved the whole matter onto Ming Huazhang’s shoulders — if it was solved, the Jing Zhao Prefecture would take the credit; if it was not, Ming Huazhang would be the one to bear the blame.

Ming Huashang pressed her lips together. She could not accept that those women had died in such wretched agony while the one who killed them still roamed free, swaggering with impunity. Nor could she accept that a man as good as Ming Huazhang — a man who was perfectly capable of becoming an official who served his country and benefited the people — should be cut down early and sacrificed on the altar of officialdom’s ugliest customs.

If only the scope of suspects could be narrowed, so that closer observation was possible — that would be far better than questioning everyone one by one and needlessly making more enemies for Ming Huazhang. Ming Huashang realized that completing the killer’s portrait could not be delayed, but so far she only had two samples — far too few.

She needed information about Huang Caiwei.

The next morning, Ming Huazhang left the estate at dawn as usual. Ming Huashang had no pretext to follow him and could only remain at home, but she was far from idle. Drawing on Jiang Ling’s experience, she gave copper coins to the beggar children of Chang’an and had them keep watch on the Director Huang’s household — paying particular attention to Madam Huang.

Badgering the Director further was pointless; he was so impervious that even Ming Huazhang had been unable to persuade him. Continuing to hammer at him was futile — better to find another way in.

She refused to believe that a father who, for the sake of his name, would not allow anyone to investigate his daughter’s death, could have a mother who was equally made of stone.

Ming Huashang’s luck was very good. On the third day she received word that Madam Huang had gone out. Ming Huashang had them harness the carriage at once and went to the Eastern Market to “happen upon” Madam Huang.

In recent days, with the chain killer on everyone’s lips, Chang’an’s citizens were in a constant state of dread, and many women had not dared to venture outside. But life had to go on; after hiding away for two days, those who needed to be out conducting their affairs had to go out regardless, and Madam Huang likewise set out to the Eastern Market with a sizeable retinue of maidservants and guards to purchase cloth.

The weather was growing colder by the day. The estate needed to be fitted with winter clothing. With so many people in the Huang household — from the young ladies and concubines all the way down to the rough servants — the seasonal wardrobes were all her responsibility to manage. Madam Huang was inside a silk shop looking over bolts of fabric when she heard the shop boy’s enthusiastic greeting behind her. She glanced back and saw a young lady, and paid her no further mind.

The Eastern Market lay close to the imperial city, frequented by the powerful and well-born; a well-dressed young lady with a maidservant in tow was nothing out of the ordinary. What she had not expected was for that young lady to browse the shop for a moment and then drift gradually toward her direction.

Madam Huang did not look up, only shifting slightly to one side. But the young lady paid no heed to the unspoken rules of social distance observed throughout Chang’an — she stopped right in front of Madam Huang and asked in a tone of delighted surprise: “Madam, are you not the wife of His Excellency Huang Yue, Director of the Imperial Academy?”

Madam Huang looked up in surprise at Ming Huashang, gave a perfunctory nod, and said, “I am.”

She had no desire for a deeper acquaintance, yet the other party, seemingly oblivious to the signals on her face, took hold of her and kept on talking. If this had been a woman trying to ingratiate herself for social advancement, Madam Huang would simply have turned a cold face and walked away — but the other party was a young and charming little miss, with clever turns of phrase and a bright, clear laugh. What was Madam Huang supposed to do?

Madam Huang, caught and unable to shake free, finally said in exasperation, “Young lady, did you take a wrong turn? Chang’an is unsettled at the moment. Where are your people? I’ll have someone escort you back.”

Madam Huang thought she had made her polite dismissal quite plain — but she had no way of knowing that Ming Huashang had been waiting for exactly this opening. Ming Huashang said immediately: “Thank you for your kind heart, Madam. These past two days the city has been in an uproar. Everyone says the monster targets women from noble households, and some even say he has sorcerous powers — that no matter how well-behaved and proper a well-born young lady may be, once he sets his eyes on her, she’ll go wandering out as if bewitched, and he’ll kill her and take her bones. My maidservants told me about it and I was frightened out of my wits. I’d rather come somewhere with crowds of people to soak up a bit of living energy.”

A mask-like smile on Madam Huang’s face stiffened faintly, and something difficult and unspeakable passed across her expression. Ming Huashang noticed, but continued to play the part of the innocent, adding in a tone of complaint: “Who knows when the Jing Zhao Prefecture will catch the killer? In the previous case, the senior official in charge was implicated in something else, officials came and went like lanterns spinning on a wheel, and in the end four years passed without anything being resolved. If it goes the same way this time, how long will the killer continue to go free?”

Madam Huang finally sensed that something was wrong. She let her smile fall away, fixed cold eyes on Ming Huashang, and said: “What a sharp tongue you have, young lady. And who, may I ask, are you?”

Ming Huashang dropped all pretense of ignorance. She raised her eyes, steady and calm, and smiled at her. “I am the younger sister of the current Deputy Prefect of Jing Zhao — Ming Huashang. The cases of the Third Young Lady Cheng, the young lady known as Chu Jun, and your daughter are all being handled by my elder brother.”

Madam Huang understood Ming Huashang’s intentions at once. Her face changed abruptly, and she did not even bother with the fabric — she turned and walked out. Ming Huashang called out after the furious Madam Huang: “Madam, it has been four years already. Your daughter died in torment, and to this day she must still bear the shame and the slanders, while the one who did this walks free. Do you know how Cheng Siyue’s body was found? It was thrown in an alley by the city gate, in plain and brazen defiance of the authorities. Madam — are you truly at peace with that?”

Madam Huang’s shoulders went rigid; from behind you could see clearly that her composure had utterly deserted her. But she did not continue walking out.

When Ming Huashang had entered the shop she had already had Zhao Cai and Ruyi block the exits, so now the room held only the two of them. Ming Huashang did not fear being overheard discussing the case details. In truth she did not actually know the details of how Huang Caiwei had died, but she had seen Cheng Siyue with her own eyes, and drawing on her vague, shadowy picture of the killer, she had made a bold guess and staked everything on it. Judging by Madam Huang’s reaction, she had guessed right.

Ming Huashang walked slowly toward her and said, “My elder brother wished several times to speak with Director Huang, but was refused on each occasion. We had no other recourse, and so could only resort to this. Madam Huang, I wish to help my elder brother, and I genuinely wish to help clear the wrongs done to Cheng Siyue and the young Huang lady. We each have something we want. May we reach an agreement? Madam, would you take me back to the Huang household and let me learn a little about Caiwei’s movements at the time?”

The Huang Household.

Madam Huang brought a young lady into the estate, and of course no one dared say a word about it. She brought Ming Huashang to Huang Caiwei’s bedchamber, unlocked it, and said, “This is where she lived. Her father is the Director of the Imperial Academy, with students spread all across the realm — yet he produced a daughter who died under such obscure circumstances. He has always regarded her as a stain on his name. He never permitted us to speak of her, and flew into a rage whenever the events of four years ago were mentioned. You could call it an accidental blessing of sorts: her room has been left completely intact, and nothing inside has been touched.”

Ming Huashang gave her thanks and, steeling herself against the dust and the chill, stepped over the threshold. Since Huang Caiwei’s death, this courtyard had been entirely forgotten, padlocked season after season, and even the sweeping women dared not approach it.

Time had drained all the color from this place. The curtains and drapes that had once been soft and bright had turned grey and worn. The jade chambers where a young lady had once laughed and sung now lay in perfect, terrible silence. Thick dust had settled on the wind-chimes.

Ming Huashang picked up a necklace strung from small shells and asked, “Did the young Huang lady make this herself?”

Madam Huang, seeing her daughter’s belongings for the first time in years, could not keep the stinging from her eyes. She turned away and pressed her tears back fiercely before saying: “She did. She loved playing with trinkets like these. She would hang them all over the room, making little sounds — ding, ding, ding. Later on, I don’t know how it happened, but she took an interest in Buddhism and was forever going out. If only I had been stricter then, if only I had not let her go to Qingshan Temple — now she would have already been married off, and perhaps even have had a child by now.”

Ming Huashang and Madam Huang sat together in Huang Caiwei’s room and talked for a long time. Madam Huang spoke of Caiwei’s temperament, her experiences, her comings and goings. All these years she had been deliberately avoiding all of it, and had assumed she had forgotten. But when she opened her mouth she found that those images were branded into her mind, not a single moment of them ever truly gone.

Drawing on Madam Huang’s descriptions, Ming Huashang began to sketch Huang Caiwei’s likeness. When she finally set down the brush, she rubbed her hands together with a sheepish grimace — it was the first time she had ever felt genuine shame about her own artistic ability.

She made herself a vow: the moment she returned to the estate she would practice painting and calligraphy in earnest, so as not to embarrass herself again in front of the Director’s wife. With the air of a new daughter-in-law meeting her in-laws for the first time, she carefully passed the paper over and asked, “Madam — is this what she looked like?”

Madam Huang, as the Director’s wife, had over the years seen no shortage of gifted talents, fine works, and masterful calligraphy. She looked at Ming Huashang’s portrait and was silent for quite some time before saying: “It has Caiwei’s spirit. It doesn’t look like her — yet it does.”

At those words Ming Huashang fell quiet. She stared at the brilliantly vivid, impossibly beautiful young woman depicted on the paper — and did not know whether to feel pleased or troubled.

She was pleased that the Director’s wife — and the dead girl’s own mother — had recognized that the spirit had been captured. She was troubled because Huang Caiwei’s appearance was entirely unlike those of Cheng Siyue and Chu Jun — they were altogether different types.

This delivered a heavy blow to the killer’s portrait she had been so close to forming. If the killer murdered for the sake of satisfying a fantasy, then why would he be drawn to three such completely different types of faces? To judge by his method of killing, the perpetrator should be someone clear-headed, meticulous, with an extremely stable inner life. For such a person, why would the object of his fantasy shift so drastically?

Ming Huashang was inwardly dejected, but she had gone to such effort to get inside the Huang household, and she was absolutely not willing to leave empty-handed. Madam Huang had spoken at length and was growing tired; Ming Huashang saw her out, and then remained in the room alone, determined to look for more clues.

Before leaving, Madam Huang had stationed a maidservant here. Ming Huashang rummaged through this and that, and the maidservant stood to one side, stiff with alarm and bewilderment, utterly unable to fathom what Ming Huashang was looking for.

Gathering her courage, the maidservant asked, “My lady, if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can help.”

In truth Ming Huashang did not know either. She stood in the dusty maiden’s chambers and asked: “Were you well acquainted with the young Huang lady?”

The maidservant looked uncomfortable. “The young miss was of the most exalted station, and I am no more than a blade of grass beneath her feet — not worthy of claiming such an acquaintance.”

Ming Huashang rephrased her question: “Then how much do you know about the people and events around her?”

That was easier to answer. The maidservant said: “The young miss was very doted upon while she lived — the Director favored her above all others, and everything was given to her first. Because of this the young miss was from childhood spirited and bold. She would charge right in even when the Director was entertaining guests. Madam, afraid she would cause trouble, specifically replaced all the maidservants by her side with quiet, well-behaved ones…”

Ming Huashang gave a sudden start at these words — how had she overlooked something so important? “Are you speaking of Yuyan?” she asked urgently.

The maidservant nodded. “Yes. Yuyan was lovely to look at, and gentle-natured. No matter where the young miss went, she loved to take Yuyan along.”

Ming Huashang immediately reached for a brush. “Do you still remember what Yuyan looked like?”

She was about to draw the portrait when a maidservant came rushing in from outside, saying in a panic: “Miss Ming, you must go — the master is back! He heard that the Madam opened the young miss’s room and is furious. The Madam may not be able to hold him off for long.”

Ming Huashang stood up in surprise, and at that very moment the sound of a heated argument outside came rushing closer. Madam Huang had not just failed to hold him off for long — she had not been able to hold him off at all!

The maidservants hurried to pull Ming Huashang away, but the portrait was not finished and she absolutely refused to leave. Amid the pushing and pulling, the door was shoved open hard, and the Director stormed in.

Well — no one was going anywhere now. Ming Huashang stood her ground without flinching. She was not frightened by the sight of the Director’s grim expression, but when she caught sight of the well-born young gentleman standing beside Director Huang Yue, she received a genuine shock.

“Elder Brother Xie?”

Xie Jichuan stood with his hands clasped behind him. His peach-blossom eyes — warm without but cool within — held, for once, a glimmer of real amusement. He greeted Ming Huashang with unhurried ease: “Second Younger Sister, it has been quite some time.”