This time it was Murong who answered first, unwilling to fall behind Jing Zhi — especially when Yan Qing had all but spelled it out.

“If the killer suddenly pressed a pillow over Cui Nong’s face, she would surely have struggled. Could it be that she scratched the killer while fighting back?”

Yan Qing nodded. “Struggling is an instinctive human response. As Cui Nong fought back, she scratched and injured the killer, which is why there is blood mixed into the epidermal tissue. The area she scratched was most likely the killer’s face or neck. The fact that the killer had access to a goose-down pillow suggests that his standing in the Yan Household is not low. And where are pillows normally kept? By the bedside. Why would Cui Nong have been anywhere near someone else’s bedside?”

“Miss, what do we do now?”

“Jing Zhi, you have wide connections among the servants. Go and discreetly find out everything you can about Cui Nong — the more detailed, the better. And while you’re at it, look for something for me.”

“What am I looking for?”

“Since the deceased lost control of her bladder and bowels, the bedding she lay on must have been rendered unusable. Go and look through wherever the household’s discarded items are collected. There may be something unexpected to find there.”

Jing Zhi patted her chest. “Leave it to me, Miss. I will complete the task without fail.”

“Also keep an eye out for any man with fresh scratches on his neck or face.”

“Miss, why must it be a man? What if it was a woman?”

Yan Qing shook her head. “Cui Nong came from a servant’s background — she would have had a certain degree of physical strength. She was 165 centimeters tall, still young, and full of vitality. If the two were roughly similar in build, it would be very difficult for a woman to smother her.”

“Miss, what should I do?” Murong was already eager to play her part.

“Go to the herbal medicine shop and the hospital and buy these items for me.” Yan Qing handed her a list she’d written out in advance. “Don’t miss a single one.”

Murong took the prescription list and headed for the door. Jing Zhi, whose curiosity could barely be contained, pressed her head so close it was almost against Murong’s chest. Murong had no choice but to hold the list open for her to see. “Even if I show you, you won’t understand it. I can make out one or two of the Chinese herbs — but these Western medicine names, I really can’t remember a single one.”

Jing Zhi discovered that she truly couldn’t make head or tail of it, and scratched her head. “What is Miss buying all this medicine for?”

The old Yan Qing had been simple-minded, her joys and frustrations worn plainly on her face — easy to read. But now, Yan Qing’s expressions gave nothing away. Even in perfect plainness, what she did was consistently enough to astonish.

“Miss has her own thinking. We just follow her lead.” Murong said.

“Don’t you feel like Miss has become… different?”

Murong carefully tucked the prescription list away and pressed her lips together. “I happen to like this version of Miss much better.”

“Then go buy the medicine. I need to go spend some time with Xiao Yue and the others.” Jing Zhi produced a pouch of melon seeds. “I won’t let Miss down.”

Murong shook her head helplessly and strode off.

By the time Murong returned from the hospital, it was already midday. Several of the Western medicines on the list were quite scarce — she’d had to visit three hospitals before she managed to purchase everything.

Sunlight flooded the room at that hour, streaming through the latticed windows and falling across a row of old, fragrant books. Incense burned steadily in a three-legged bronze censer, and Yan Qing sat at the table, absorbed in an ancient text. Her concentration was so total that from a distance she looked perfectly still, like a figure in a classical ink painting.

The tranquil scene felt too delicate to disturb. Murong instinctively lightened her footsteps.

When it came to appearance, Yan Qing had inherited the finest features of both San Yitai and Master Yan — she was even more beautiful than her mother had been in her youth. It was only that…

Murong’s gaze drifted to the wheelchair beneath her, and she let out a quiet sigh. Heaven opens one door for you, but closes another with the same hand.

“Miss, miss — a major lead!” Before Murong had finished her thoughts, Jing Zhi swept in like a gust of wind.

—