Huang Zixia nodded and said: “This has made me think deeply for a long time. As Madam Gongsun traveled the world, how could a woman surrounded by dangers everywhere protect herself with just a wooden sword? And after the sword dance that day, because of Young Master Fan’s accusations, Young Master Wang Yun smelled the sword’s handle and reported that it had an earthy smell.”

Wang Yun, seeing her look toward him, first smiled at her while leaning back in his chair, then nodded, saying: “That is correct.”

“I also examined the sword handle and found traces of soil on the side facing the blade. If, as Madam Gongsun claims, you had merely thrown the sword on the ground, the soil would only stick to the sides of the handle—how could it get on the blade side? Moreover, with the pavilion floor being so clean at the time, even your clothes remained spotless when you lay down for that final move, so how did soil get on the sword handle?” As Huang Zixia spoke, she picked up that snow-bright blade again, pointing its tip downward and indicating the cross-section, saying, “Everyone, please look—the blade here has a groove design and small notches. I believe this dagger, like my hairpin, contains hidden mechanisms.”

Speaking thus, she held her hairpin, gripped the scroll-patterned head, and pulled out the thinner jade pin inside, leaving only the silver outer sheath in her hair for everyone to see clearly. After reinserting the jade pin, she took up the long wooden sword that Madam Gongsun had brought, examined it carefully for a moment, and then pressed on a relatively smooth pattern. With a slight press, there was a faint click, and the blade separated from the handle, revealing that it wasn’t solid inside but had a thin cavity. The sword handle had its grooves, and when Huang Zixia aligned the sharp blade with the notches, matching each hole and turning it left and right, it finally locked into place.

Madam Gongsun’s face finally turned completely pale. She and Fourth Lady Yin leaned against each other, their bodies beginning to weaken, and they could only slowly lean against the railing, their lips turning bluish-purple and trembling, unable to speak any words.

“I wonder… if Madam has killed before? You are very brave, and quite clever too. You chose such a chaotic yet safe moment, fully utilizing the dance and murder weapon—of course, a Fourth Lady skilled in stagecraft could arrange all the details for you—however, under the watchful eyes of so many people at the scene, knowing that anyone turning their head could discover your shadow in the darkness, you still dared to take the risk. Moreover, you were accurate and ruthless, managing in such a hurried moment to stab directly into Administrative Assistant Qi’s heart, without letting him make any sound, without hitting any ribs. You even twisted the dagger several times in his heart as you stabbed, ensuring he had no reaction and died instantly. Even Miss Zhou in the nearby gauze chamber noticed nothing.”

Huang Zixia’s voice was calm and steady, showing no emotion, even carrying a hint of coldness. “Of course, you were also very lucky. At the start, Administrative Assistant Qi was sitting in front, and you had no chance to approach him, but after you mentioned that this dance was romantic and best enjoyed with one’s beloved, he was trying to please Miss Zhou, so he moved his chair to the back by the gauze chamber. And when you killed him, Young Master Fan was vomiting, with the stench being blown over by the wind, covering the smell of blood, and causing Miss Zhou to turn away covering her nose, her gaze conveniently avoiding you.”

Gongsun Yuan stood under the lamplight, the light illuminating her form like a winter orchid in the wind, incredibly delicate and desolate.

“After the killing, you should have immediately returned the dagger to the wooden sword, but replacing the blade takes time, not as easy as removing it, and aligning the catches in the darkness would have been extremely difficult and risked revealing the blood inside, so you had to abandon this dagger. If you had simply inserted it into the stone crack, blood would certainly have stained the stone slabs or seeped out through the soil to be discovered, but fortunately, Young Master Fan had just finished vomiting and collapsed drunk on the ground. Naturally resenting his improper behavior, you simply used his clothes to hastily wipe away the blood, then inserted it into the crack, finally taking away the sword handle and putting it back on—perfect, wasn’t it?”

Amid everyone’s silence, Gongsun Yuan bit her lower lip hard, forcing herself to stop trembling, and after a long while, managed to ask in a hoarse voice: “Then… I had no grudge against Administrative Assistant Qi, what… reason would I have to kill him?”

“No grudge?” As Huang Zixia spoke, she gathered up all of Madam Gongsun’s items and nodded to Zhou Ziqin.

Zhou Ziqin understood and immediately brought out some things, placing them on the pavilion table.

The items he placed on the table were a complete mess of various objects—

A dark blue purse; a booklet of Zhong Hui’s handwriting; a scroll painting of pine trees and zither; a stack of various vulgar love letters…

Under everyone’s puzzled gazes, Huang Zixia showed these items one by one, saying: “These are the suspicious items I found in Administrative Assistant Qi’s home—First, this stack of love letters. These letters all came from Wutong Street in Chengdu Prefecture, almost all written by courtesans, addressed to someone named Wen Yang.”

Fan Yuanlong asked in astonishment: “Wen Yang? Isn’t that the person who died in love with Fu Xin’aruan? How did the letters he received end up in Administrative Assistant Qi’s home?”

“Yes, and after investigating Wutong Street, we found the people in various brothels who sent these love poems. They all confirmed that there was indeed a customer called Wen Yang, who was considerate, gentle, and smiled often, even composing romantic verses—almost completely different from the cold-natured Wen Yang we knew.”

“Could it be…” everyone simultaneously had the same thought, and fell silent, unable to speak.

“That’s not all. Please look at this pine tree and zither painting—from the paper quality, painting technique, and artistic conception, it’s completely different from those in Administrative Assistant Qi’s home. As far as we know, Wen Yang did have such a painting hanging in his study, but it disappeared around the time of his suicide for love.”

Huang Zixia took out another painting and said: “And this embroidered ball and butterfly painting was taken from Wen Yang’s room. His servants said that the original pine tree painting hanging in the home was replaced by this one at some unknown time, but we couldn’t find the so-called pine tree painting in his home.”

“And in Administrative Assistant Qi’s home, what was originally hanging was an embroidered ball and butterfly painting!” Zhou Ziqin nodded and said: “So we are completely confident that these two paintings in their studies were switched—Wen Yang’s study, which loved quietude and often contemplated pine trees, was replaced with an embroidered ball and butterfly painting, while Administrative Assistant Qi’s home, which displayed roses and azaleas, how did it come to have such a contrasting pine tree painting?”

Zhou Xiang hurriedly asked: “Then what was the purpose of switching these two paintings?”

“The purpose lies in one painting,” Huang Zixia said, taking out Fu Xin’aruan’s letter found in Wen Yang’s home and reading it to everyone:

“…Thinking of the osmanthus flowers in the courtyard, only two or three must remain. Please treasure and collect them, I will make osmanthus candy for you again. Sichuan’s sunlight is sparse, and lately, I feel pale. Today I opened the rouge you gave me the other day, its fragrance lingering far, the pink so delicate and beautiful, like the embroidered ball and butterfly painting on your desk…”

She put down the letter and sighed softly: “The person who was involved with Fu Xin’aruan was very careful about concealing his tracks. In pleasure houses, he always used others’ names, and Fu Xin’aruan was no exception—she always called him ‘Master Wen,’ and in letters to her sisters, she always mentioned ‘Wen Yang.’ So this so-called ‘Wen Yang’ carefully concealed his tracks, never leaving a single word or paper in brothels, and exchanged very few letters with Fu Xin’aruan. This might be their only surviving correspondence—so he took it as evidence, and placed it beside Wen Yang, making this scapegoat appear to have had a relationship with Fu Xin’aruan, while also using this letter to lead us to treat their poisoning deaths as ‘dying for love,’ thus deceiving everyone and covering his tracks.”

Fan Yuanlong suddenly jumped up, stammering: “You… you mean this Wen Yang isn’t the real Wen Yang… no, the real Wen Yang isn’t this Wen Yang?”

Though his words were jumbled, everyone understood his meaning, and all present were stunned.

Huang Zixia nodded, saying: “Exactly. The ‘Wen Yang’ in the letter, and the ‘Wen Yang’ that Fu Xin’aruan met, were not the real Wen Yang—Wen Bingji. There was someone whose name formed a matching pair with Wen Yang, so he often used this alias while frequenting the pleasure quarters. All who gave him love letters called him ‘Wen Yang’—no one knew his real name was Qi Teng, Qi Hanyue, known as Young Master Cold Moon.”

Thinking of Qi Teng’s gentle and composed manner in public, no one could imagine him carousing in the pleasure quarters under another’s identity. Fan Yuanlong asked: “Eunuch Yang, if as you say, Administrative Assistant Qi openly impersonated Wen Yang in the pleasure quarters, didn’t he ever consider that someday, someone might discover him there? And wouldn’t it be even worse if Wen Yang happened to encounter him?”

Huang Zixia shook her head, saying: “No, Administrative Assistant Qi naturally had a foolproof plan. He chose to impersonate Wen Yang not just because their names happened to be a matching pair, but just because they were both orphaned and early widowers. There was another reason—he knew he would never encounter Wen Yang in a brothel.”

Zhou Ziqin quietly said: “Chonggu, but Wen household’s servants said he occasionally visited the pleasure quarters too…”

“The places he went were completely different from where Administrative Assistant Qi went—” Huang Zixia said, taking out a blue diamond-patterned letter from the stack of amorous correspondence, saying, “Among all these letters, this one is very special because it comes from a male courtesan house, a place frequented by those who prefer men.”

Everyone showed expressions of sudden understanding, but finding such matters difficult to discuss, they could only look at each other in silence, unable to speak.

“So Wen Yang and Fu Xin’aruan could never have died for love. Because he had no interest in women. After his wife’s death, he never considered remarrying. To hide his secret, he would secretly visit these unspeakable places late at night and secretly return—how could such a person have had a years-long romance with Fu Xin’aruan? How could he have sent her osmanthus flowers and rouge, to the point where even Fu Xin’aruan, admired by countless people, gave her heart to him?” Huang Zixia analyzed calmly and slowly as if she were a eunuch rather than a seventeen-year-old girl. “And Administrative Assistant Qi knew about Wen Yang’s attempt to use forged Zhong Hui calligraphy to win… a certain man’s favor. Others might not have thought much of it, but being familiar with such circles, he naturally understood completely. He confidently used Wen Yang’s name while carousing, and when eager to rid himself of Fu Xin’aruan, he dragged the real Wen Yang in as a scapegoat to resolve his romantic entanglement. At this point, he naturally had to eliminate everything around Wen Yang that might reveal his secret, including the fake Zhong Hui calligraphy and the love poems male courtesans had written to Wen Yang. Meanwhile, he went to great lengths to switch items, trying to create the illusion that Wen Yang had indeed been deeply involved with Fu Xin’aruan.”

Listening to this, Zhou Xiang couldn’t help but sigh painfully: “Substituting one for another, deceiving heaven and earth—this Administrative Assistant Qi was truly deeply scheming! Fortunately…”

Fortunately, his daughter Zhou Ziyan hadn’t married this man, everyone thought. But then they considered how Qi Teng had maintained a good relationship with Fu Xin’aruan for years before striking fatally—who knew if it wasn’t to climb the social ladder by marrying the Prefecture Governor’s daughter, eliminating future troubles?

“However, using this letter from Fu Xin’aruan as evidence had one flaw—namely, the ’embroidered ball and butterfly’ painting mentioned in the letter. So Qi Teng, who owned this painting, had to find a way to bring it to Wen Yang’s home—the excuse, of course, was something like members of the same poetry society coming to pay respects. Wen Yang’s household members were illiterate and naturally paid no attention to paintings, so when I asked later, they didn’t even know when the painting had appeared. After Qi Teng stole back the pine tree painting, he found his study’s original four paintings looked unbalanced missing one, and since the pine tree painting was about the same size and also depicted plants, he hung it up temporarily—who knew that until his death, he hadn’t prepared another painting, thus leaving traces.”

Huang Zixia continued, placing two stacks on the table, saying, “To create evidence of intimacy between Wen Yang and Fu Xin’aruan, Qi Teng made other arrangements. For example, he stole some of Wen Yang’s manuscripts and secretly hid them in Fu Xin’aruan’s home, such as some daily writings. However, he might have been too panicked while stealing, taking things he shouldn’t have. For instance, the left half here was found in Wen Yang’s home, while the right half was found in Fu Xin’aruan’s home, meant to prove they indeed had regular contact. Unfortunately, he didn’t know that when Wen Yang wrote this volume, it was for another purpose.”

As people examined the appearance of Wen Yang’s handwritten volume, Master Mu Shan spoke first: “These pages of Buddhist scripture have unusually wide margins, rather like the butterfly-bound style popular in recent years.”

“Exactly. Wen Yang had always prided himself on his calligraphy, so this copy was meant to be bound into a book as a gift—how could such a scripture end up split between two people? It’s unreasonable.”

Zhou Ziqin looked at Gongsun Yuan and Yin Luyi, about to order their arrest, when he suddenly remembered something and quickly asked: “Chonggu, I have a question that needs your answer.”

Huang Zixia looked at him and nodded slightly.

“Is there a possibility that someone else impersonated Wen Yang and, when killing Fu Xin’aruan, deliberately framed Administrative Assistant Qi?”