Everything that could be done had been done. This was what it meant to do one’s best and leave the rest to fate.
Zhen Niang finally returned to Mo Manor.
Passing by Yihou Credit House, she happened to see Luo Wenqian seeing a guest out. Upon noticing Zhen Niang approaching, he paused his steps as the guest bowed farewell.
After the guest had gone far enough, Zhen Niang naturally came forward and bowed to Luo Wenqian, thanking him for speaking on her behalf before the Princess.
“Delivered?” Luo Wenqian naturally walked under the locust tree, avoiding the people coming and going at the entrance, asking about the ledger matter.
“Yes.” Zhen Niang nodded, wearing a faint smile, showing her good mood. Of course, her mood was half due to delivering the ledger, and half because the case would soon have another breakthrough.
“That’s good.” Seeing Zhen Niang’s expression, Luo Wenqian smiled as well. Then he added seriously: “However, we must still be careful. After all, those people don’t know the ledger is now in the Princess’s hands.”
“Yes, I understand. Let’s wait and see. The case might have a breakthrough in a few days…” Zhen Niang nodded. She didn’t elaborate on Ge San’er’s situation, not because she was being mysterious, but because she wasn’t certain how things would develop. Moreover, with people coming and going here, it wasn’t the place to discuss such matters.
“Yes, waiting and observing is wise.” Luo Wenqian nodded.
As Zhen Niang had thought earlier, at this point, the development of events was beyond any one person’s control.
“My father is waiting for news at Mo Manor. I should go,” Zhen Niang said with a smile.
“Mm.” Luo Wenqian nodded and watched as Zhen Niang entered Li’s Mo Manor. Looking at her departing figure, Luo Wenqian became thoughtful. A breakthrough in the case in a few days? This girl had learned to be mysterious.
He would have to see how this case would break through.
At this time, Zhen Niang entered her family’s ink shop, greeted the shop assistants, and went to the back courtyard. There she found her father sitting at the stone table in the courtyard, deeply concentrated, doing something. He was so absorbed he hadn’t even noticed her entrance.
Drawing closer, Zhen Niang discovered her father was actually twisting lamp wicks for smoke lamps, his expression unusually focused, completely different from his usual somewhat muddled appearance.
At this moment, Zhen Niang thought her father truly resembled her grandfather.
“Father, why are you making these?” Zhen Niang asked curiously as she approached.
“Just waiting for you to return. Had nothing to do and felt a bit unsettled. This wick-twisting was the first step in learning ink-making from your grandfather when I was young. Used to do it all the time, but haven’t touched it in over ten years. My hands are quite rusty. Can’t even twist the wicks evenly anymore.” Li Jingfu smiled seeing Zhen Niang’s return. While continuing to twist the wicks, he asked about the ledger matter.
Zhen Niang was delighted to hear this, clearly seeing that her father had taken to heart what she’d told him on the boat. He was starting over from the beginning. Feeling very happy, she recounted how the ledger had been successfully delivered to the Princess.
Li Jingfu felt much relieved. Then Zhen Niang told her father about Ge San’er’s situation. Hearing all this, Li Jingfu truly relaxed: “If things go as you say, then this matter can be considered truly resolved. That’s good. Your Uncle Jingming and the others will arrive in Nanjing soon. If Zhengping can be released by the time they arrive, that would be the best possible outcome.”
“Yes.” Zhen Niang nodded.
Although initially, Zhen Niang hadn’t immediately written to Uncle Jingming in Huizhou about Li Zhengping’s situation, ultimately, since Li Zhengping was involved in an official case, such matters couldn’t and shouldn’t be concealed from Uncle Jingming and the others. So the next day, Zhen Niang had written a letter and sent it to Huizhou.
Calculating the days now, it was probably as her father said – Uncle Jingming and the others should arrive soon.
Thinking of this, Zhen Niang couldn’t help but consider Li Zhengping and Ge Qiu’s situation. If the matter could be resolved, perhaps Li Zhengping and Ge Qiu, having shared this hardship, might reunite. However, Aunt Fang probably wouldn’t agree.
After all, it was because of Ge Qiu that Li Zhengping had suffered so much, and Madam Fang wasn’t one to be easily persuaded. Thus, there might be more complications to come.
However, with Uncle Jingming’s support, Madam Fang’s disapproval wouldn’t matter. Of course, Zhen Niang was just speculating about such matters.
“Ai!” At this point, Li Jingfu sighed heavily, somewhat defeated as he tossed aside a twisted wick: “Send these wicks to Sister Ma’s place later, for their oil lamps.”
“Why? Aren’t these wicks usable?” Zhen Niang picked up a wick and examined it, feeling it looked similar to those used in their ink shop.
“How could they be used? Two of the grass strands have splits in the middle. When boiled, these sections would easily come loose. Once loose, they’ll absorb too much oil, making the smoke too thick when lit.” As he said this, Li Jingfu looked at Zhen Niang: “What? You didn’t notice this?”
Li Jingfu spoke while widening his eyes, truly unable to believe it. Twisting smoke wicks was the most basic knowledge in smoke-making.
Seeing her father’s questioning look, Zhen Niang felt unsettled. Truth be told, she was skilled at smoke-making, glue-boiling, and ink-mixing, having learned from her grandfather for over ten years since childhood. She had truly put in great effort in these areas. Additionally, having early knowledge of Ming and Qing dynasty ink-making formulas gave her an advantage in ink production.
But regarding wick-twisting, in her previous life there had been specialized lamp wicks, and here she had started directly with smoke-making, initially using pre-twisted wicks from Li’s ink shop.
Because she was good at smoke-making and had her method of observing the fire, Old Master Li hadn’t realized Zhen Niang had never twisted wicks before. It wasn’t that she had never done it at all – after entering the ink shop, she had seen others twisting wicks and had tried it a few times out of interest, but only alongside the general workers, with no one paying particular attention.
In Old Master Li’s subconscious, new workers in the ink shop usually started in the smoke-making section, where the first task assigned was wick-twisting, followed by learning smoke-making.
Following this order, since Zhen Niang was skilled at smoke-making, it was naturally assumed her wick-twisting skills were unremarkable, and thus Old Master Li had never questioned her about it.
Moreover, the ink shop had dedicated wick twisters, so when would it have been Zhen Niang’s turn to twist wicks? Thus, this gap in her skills had gone unnoticed, even by herself.
Until this moment, watching her father twist lamp wicks, Zhen Niang realized she had overlooked something very important—the lamp wicks themselves.
Li Jingfu then said to his daughter: “Come, twist one for me to see.”
“Mm.” Zhen Niang counted out twelve strands of nine-inch grass and began twisting, very concentrated, but Li Jingfu watched with furrowed brows. This girl was a complete novice in this area.
After finishing one, Zhen Niang handed it to her father, fully aware of how poorly made it was, wearing a sheepish expression.
Li Jingfu took the twisted wick from Zhen Niang, looked at it, and laughed. Inwardly, he felt relieved—truth be told, having such a capable daughter put some pressure on being a father.
Of course, seeing Zhen Niang’s embarrassed expression, he couldn’t bear to let her feel awkward, so he said: “It’s fine, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Starting tomorrow, you’ll learn wick-twisting from me. Though my hands are rusty, I still understand the principles.”
“Alright.” Zhen Niang nodded, understanding in her heart that in this era, one shouldn’t underestimate anyone. Her father was generally considered incompetent, but it was just that his strengths weren’t yet known to others.
Father and daughter hadn’t spent much time together before, even after their heart-to-heart talk on the boat. Their relationship hadn’t grown particularly close, which was partly why Zhen Niang hadn’t immediately told Li Jingfu about the ledger matter—they were simply too unfamiliar with each other to think of sharing such things.
But now, with this moment, they seemed to grow closer. They discussed various ink-making issues together, and Zhen Niang discovered that her father’s foundation in ink-making was quite solid.
For the next two days, Zhen Niang set aside everything else to focus on learning wick-twisting from her father. This craft had many intricacies—typically, a finished wick required twelve strands of sturdy yellow grass twisted together, then boiled three times in concentrated sappanwood juice until the purple color seeped out. Only then would they be dried and wrapped in paper for storage, kept free from dust, and taken out as needed.
When twisting wicks, one couldn’t split the strands, nor twist too tightly or too loosely. If too loose, they would absorb too much oil, causing the flame to burn too hot and char easily, resulting in coarse smoke soot. If too tight, oil wouldn’t penetrate well, making the flame sluggish, extending the smoking time, reducing efficiency, and producing wispy soot that would make inferior ink lacking in substance.
Moreover, the twisting had to be even—uneven twisting led to unstable flames prone to sparking, which was bad for the smoke soot.
All these factors had to be precise—even small errors could cause problems.
Zhen Niang shuddered thinking about it—an entire batch of ink could be ruined due to poor wicks. Ink-making techniques were all interconnected, and after two days of learning about wicks, she gained deeper insights into smoke-making.
Indeed, learning was endless. After several successful ink-making attempts and becoming a Royal Supplier, even though Zhen Niang claimed to stay level-headed, she had become somewhat complacent. Her father’s inadvertent wick lesson made her realize she still had much to learn and many gaps to fill in her ink-making knowledge.
After these quiet two days, big news broke out on Official Street again.
That morning, at the Chen hour, after two days of wick-twisting, Zhen Niang felt restless and went to mind the counter, mainly thinking about Ge San’er’s situation. The previous evening, her uncle Han Yigui had called her father away, saying there had been a major reversal in Li Zhengping’s case.
“Zhen Niang, have you heard? Last night, the yamen officers arrested Ge San’er,” Madam Yao said, leaning against the doorframe.
Though Zhen Niang knew about this, she still asked curiously, “What did they arrest Ge San’er for?”
“I reckon it’s related to your Li Zhengping,” Madam Yao replied.
Just then, Er’gou burst in: “Miss Zhen, quick, come see! There’s been a breakthrough in Huang Lang’s murder case. It turns out Ge San’er killed Huang Lang. The yamen is holding court now. There’s hope for Li Zhengping!”
“Really?” As soon as he finished speaking, Hua’er, who had been wiping tables, dropped her cloth and ran out immediately.
Zhen Niang, along with the young maid and Sister Ma, joined the crowd heading to the Yingtian Prefecture yamen.
However, by the time they arrived, the case had been mostly heard. Many onlookers outside were discussing it, with helpful spectators explaining to newcomers.
“They say yesterday evening, Ge San’er had a fever, and Madam Cao called a doctor. Unexpectedly, Ge San’er was delirious with fever and shouted that he hadn’t killed Huang Lang—isn’t that a guilty conscience showing through illness? Then Huang Lang’s concubine seized the chance to ask about the murder weapon. Surprisingly, Ge San’er immediately said it was buried in the flower bed by the courtyard wall. So Lu Zhu, Huang Lang’s concubine, reported it to the authorities right away. When the yamen officers arrived, they dug up the weapon from the flower bed. That settled it…”
Zhen Niang listened from within the crowd—everything was proceeding according to her plan.
“Maybe the siblings plotted together?” someone suggested.
“Probably not. Huang Lang tried to kill Ge San’er to silence him, but Ge San’er killed him in self-defense… Besides, according to Ge San’er’s confession, he killed Huang Lang at exactly the Chou hour. Ge Qiu entered the city at the end of the Chou hour. There’s more than half an hour’s difference.”
Many pieces of evidence that were hard to verify before became clearer once the true killer was known.
“Why did Huang Lang want to silence someone?” someone asked curiously.
“You don’t know? Ge San’er’s father, Ge Da’na, died at Huang Lang’s hand. I heard Ge Qiu had already found evidence earlier. Now they’re investigating Huang Lang’s plot against Ge Da’na inside…”
Listening in the crowd, Zhen Niang heard that the case was proceeding exactly as Ge San’er had told her and according to her expectations, but what she cared about wasn’t this—it was Ge San’er’s answer about the ledger matter.
Of course, Zhen Niang knew she wouldn’t get answers about the ledger here.
At this moment, in the main hall, the Prefect was investigating the case of Huang Lang’s plot against Ge Da’na. Though Ge Da’na was guilty, he hadn’t committed suicide out of fear of punishment, as his crime wasn’t capital.
Meanwhile, in the prison warden’s room, several people were quietly questioning Ge San’er.
“Ge San’er, I ask you, after killing Huang Lang, besides taking his money pouch, what else did you take?” asked someone who looked like a legal secretary.
“Didn’t take anything else, just the money pouch, and I didn’t know he was dead then,” Ge San’er replied, still appearing simple-minded.
“Still trying to deceive us? I’ll ask again, didn’t Huang Lang have anything else besides the money pouch?”
“Oh, seems there was a book,” Ge San’er said.
“A book? What book?” Ge San’er’s words startled everyone present—how had it become a book?
“I can’t read, how would I know what book it was?” Ge San’er protested.
The clever secretary took out a ledger and showed it to Ge San’er: “Was it similar to this?”
“Mm, looks like it,” Ge San’er replied.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“Then where is this book now?” the secretary continued.
“I burned it, together with the money pouch, to report to my father… several people at home saw it,” Ge San’er said frankly, maintaining his simple, foolish demeanor. How could anyone not believe him?
Several people from the Huang household, including Lu Zhu, confirmed that Ge San’er had indeed burned bloody clothes while roasting sweet potatoes that day. They had searched the Huang residence thoroughly and found no ledger.
Additionally, Wei Baiwan’s side denied any secret silk accounts, only admitting the ledger contained information about tax evasion. Thus, the ledger matter became an unresolved mystery. Though some might have been suspicious at first, after a period of calm, they let it go.
After questioning Ge San’er, through Han Yigui and the Li family’s efforts, Ge Qiu and Li Zhengping were released without charges the next day. As for Ge San’er, despite the matter of Huang Lang’s plot against Ge Da’na, murder was still murder, and he was ultimately sentenced to three years of hard labor. Madam Cao was paraded through the streets wearing a cangue for her adultery.
Thus, the entire case was settled. As for what lay behind it all, it no longer concerned the Li family.