The private guest quarters that had been prepared for Ling Zhiyan as a bachelor’s lodging had once again been converted into a sickroom — this time to house Feng Yuyi and Bai Shun. There was no other choice: both the Feng Family and the Bai Family had been sealed off and were in no position to look after their own, Administrator Zhou was desperate to distance himself from Feng Family’s faction and would not even come to take a look. In the end, it was Hua Yitang again who summoned Doctor Yue to come and treat the two of them.

“Both of Feng Yuyi’s hands have been severed. The wounds were not treated in time and have become infected — his fever has not broken. That he has survived until now is nothing short of a miracle,” Doctor Yue said, after a quick examination of Feng Yuyi’s injuries.

Hua Yitang stood at the bedside, brows deeply knitted. “Can he be saved?”

Doctor Yue glanced at Hua Yitang. “To put it bluntly — even if Feng Yuyi recovers, he will be a broken man for the rest of his life. And given Feng Family’s current situation, being alive will bring him more suffering than dying.”

“Can he be saved?” Hua Yitang asked again.

Doctor Yue sighed. “I will do my best.”

Hua Yitang nodded. “And Bai Shun?”

Doctor Yue: “He is in better condition. He simply went many days without food or water, so his body is severely weakened, and the shock has left him unconscious.”

“When will he wake?”

“That depends on him. If he wants to wake, he will wake. If he doesn’t want to, he might very well sleep his way into the halls of the underworld.”

Hua Yitang fell silent.

Jin Ruo could not hold back any longer. “I say, Hua the Fourth — neither Feng Family nor Bai Family are good people, and those two even had old scores to settle with you. You’re here saving lives and calling for doctors again — what exactly are you after?”

“Who wants to save them?” Hua Yitang said coldly. “There are still many unanswered questions in this case, and these two are the only survivors who can speak to it. Of course I can’t let them die so easily. Once the case is closed, whether they live or die is none of my concern.”

Doctor Yue burst out laughing.

Lin Sui’an sighed inwardly. This man really was a stubborn old mule — clearly he couldn’t bear to let them die.

Even Jin Ruo wore an expression that said “I cannot believe a single word you say.”

Doctor Yue quickly finished treating Feng Yuyi’s wounds. To be thorough, she then proceeded to examine his entire body. She removed his upper garment — paused briefly — then rapidly inspected his back, palms, between his fingers, and the soles of his feet. She turned to Bai Shun and ran the same examination, and her expression became subtly grave.

Hua Yitang: “What is it?!”

Doctor Yue: “Both of them have large black patches deposited across their chests and backs, indicating they previously suffered from festering sores. The skin of their palms and the soles of their feet has hardened and is shedding, and Feng Yuyi also has numerous small black spots of necrotic skin at the roots of his fingers — he has had putrefying sores before.”

Jin Ruo: “Poisoned?”

“No better than poisoned,” said Doctor Yue, shaking her head. “Both of these individuals previously consumed large quantities of Five-Stone Powder. It is fortunate they have not used it these past two or three years — otherwise, they would not have survived to today.”

Jin Ruo: “Isn’t Five-Stone Powder the favorite additive to mix with wine among the aristocracy? I’ve heard it can even treat illness. What’s the problem with it?”

Doctor Yue: “Five-Stone Powder was concocted four hundred years ago by Daoist practitioners seeking immortality. It is typically prepared from cinnabar, realgar, white alum, blue vitriol, and magnetite. Its properties are extremely potent: once ingested, the heart grows restless and the body needs to expel the internal heat. Physical strength increases greatly; used in small doses, it sharpens the mind and quickens the spirit. But with prolonged use, the soul gradually becomes untethered, the blood loses its color, the complexion grows as hollow as withered wood — this is called ‘ghost-shade.'”

In brief: it was a slow-acting narcotic.

“The situation is worse than I anticipated. Five-Stone Powder ravages the body’s foundation, and combined with the injuries he has sustained — it is adding ice to snow.” Doctor Yue cast a meaningful glance at Hua Yitang. “The medical fees —”

Hua Yitang produced a small packet of gold leaf and tossed it into Doctor Yue’s hands.

Doctor Yue smiled radiantly. “I shall do my very best.”

A knock at the door — Ling Zhiyan pushed it open and walked in. “Fourth Young Master Hua, Lin Niangzi — I heard you found Feng Yuyi and Bai Shun —” He noticed the two figures on the bed, and paused. “Still alive?”

Hua Yitang nodded.

Ling Zhiyan frowned, and lowered his voice. “If the two of you would be so kind as to speak with me in private.”

In the small courtyard outside, there was only one stone table and four cold stone stools. Ming Feng and Ming Shu stood guard at the courtyard entrance, pulling Jin Ruo along with them. The entire courtyard was left with only Lin Sui’an, Hua Yitang, and Ling Zhiyan.

Ling Zhiyan first invited them to be seated, then hesitated at length before speaking. “I would like to have Feng Song come and see Feng Yuyi.”

Hua Yitang: “Feng Song refuses to name the person behind the underground school?”

Ling Zhiyan: “In truth, everyone has a fairly good idea of who that person is. But — the word from above is that Feng Family’s network of letters runs extremely wide. If one is not careful, it could cause upheaval throughout the court and the country. There must be ironclad evidence.”

“When you say ‘above’ — do you mean the Court of Judicial Review?”

Ling Zhiyan reached into his robe and produced the black iron tablet, sliding it across the table toward the two of them.

At first glance, the iron tablet was entirely unremarkable — no characters, no pattern — but as it lay in the sunlight, its surface shimmered with minute, starlike points of light.

“Forged from Kunlun black iron — worth ten thousand gold.” Hua Yitang narrowed his eyes. “What is this?”

So even Hua Yitang had never seen anything like it. Lin Sui’an felt somewhat reassured.

“This tablet was personally bestowed by the Emperor. Beyond that, I cannot say.”

Hua Yitang narrowed his eyes further: “What exactly are you proposing?”

“Feng Family’s crime is grave, and Feng Yuyi cannot escape being implicated. But to get Feng Song to speak, I need to guarantee Feng Yuyi’s life. So — Feng Yuyi must die, and yet cannot die.”

Lin Sui’an understood. Ling Zhiyan intended to use Feng Yuyi’s life as leverage in exchange for Feng Song’s testimony. Afraid that Hua Yitang would object, he had produced the iron tablet to hint that Hua Yitang should not let personal enmity interfere with matters of great importance.

Hua Yitang clenched his jaw. “And what do you suppose my reason was for saving Feng Yuyi?”

Ling Zhiyan was quiet for a moment: “To cut the grass at its roots.”

“Go eat excrement!” Hua Yitang leapt to his feet, delivered a furious kick to the stone stool, and howled in pain, hopping on one foot while jabbing a finger at Ling Zhiyan. “Ling Zhiyan, don’t think this is over! Lin Sui’an — we’re leaving!”

Having vented his feelings at full volume, he limped out on his injured foot at a brisk trot.

Lin Sui’an scratched her head. Ling Zhiyan inclined his head and bowed.

She sighed inwardly, picked up Qian Jing, and walked out of the garden, calling Jin Ruo to follow, then set off at an unhurried pace after Hua Yitang.

Hua Yitang was beside himself with fury — even the billowing hem of his robes seemed to be visibly fuming as he stormed the length of the route. Mu Xia, showing uncanny foresight, had a carriage waiting at the gate. All three of them climbed aboard. Jin Ruo discovered pastries inside the carriage and was immediately overjoyed, stuffing his cheeks happily and scattering crumbs everywhere. Lin Sui’an sat opposite Hua Yitang with Qian Jing in her arms, observing the expression of a certain young scoundrel who was clearly making a very sulky puffed-up face.

Hua Yitang fanned himself furiously, inhaling deeply, exhaling, inhaling again, exhaling again.

He looks like a puffer fish when he’s angry.

Lin Sui’an had that thought, and found herself suppressing a smile. “He did it on purpose. Could you not tell?”

“I’m not stupid! Of course I could tell he did it on purpose!” Hua Yitang fanned so hard the hair at his temples was blown into disarray. “He deliberately infuriated me to make me leave!”

Lin Sui’an: “Oh?”

“He must have found out something new, and worried that my Hua Family’s involvement might be a liability — he was trying to get me out of the way early!”

“So you already knew that much. Then what are you angry about?”

“Can’t he just say it plainly?! Did he have to use that roundabout, maddening method? Can’t friends be honest with each other?!”

“Oh, so you count Ling Zhiyan as a friend.”

“Who said he’s my friend! I don’t know him!”

Jin Ruo’s cheeks were so full he resembled a hamster. “Such a fuss over nothing. You sound like a weepy woman pining in her boudoir.”

“And what’s wrong with a weepy woman? Weepy women have feelings too!”

Lin Sui’an nearly choked.

The carriage creaked to a stop. Mu Xia tapped on the carriage door. “Fourth Young Master, Manager Liu is outside, says he has important matters to report.”

The explosive, ruffled Hua Yitang’s expression instantly became composed and commanding. He smoothed his robes, sleeves, and hem with two sweeps of his fan, straightened his appearance, and settled into an air of profound inscrutability. “Show him in.”

The speed of that transformation, and the level of control over his expression — it was truly a sight to behold.

Jin Ruo: “Cough! Cough cough cough cough!”

Lin Sui’an pressed her cheeks together and fought back the urge to laugh.

Manager Liu paid his respects respectfully outside the carriage. Lin Sui’an recognized this man — he was one of Hua Family’s thirteen managers, responsible for the southwestern district, and had provided many useful leads during the search for the rice shop’s location.

“Greetings, Fourth Young Master.”

“No need for such formalities, Manager Liu. What is the matter?”

“When closing the shops today, we came across one establishment that seemed rather peculiar. I have come specially to invite Fourth Young Master to go and take a look.”

“Where is this shop?”

“Morning Breeze Ward.”

“Let us go and see.”

The carriage moved on. Hua Yitang tapped his fan handle against his palm, his thoughts adrift, his head swaying back and forth with the motion of the carriage like a bobble-head again.

Lin Sui’an was also thinking, but she truly could not recall where Morning Breeze Ward was located.

“It’s also within the twelve wards of the southwestern district — Feng Family’s territory,” Jin Ruo murmured. “Hua Family is terrifying. Feng Family has barely fallen and they’re already going to collect Feng Family’s shops.”

“Weren’t Feng Family’s shops all sealed?”

“Only the ones officially on the registry. There are plenty of off-the-books establishments and shops of unclear ownership — the prefectural office couldn’t be bothered with those.”

Lin Sui’an absorbed this with a click of her tongue. The efficiency was indeed formidable. But she had been with Hua Yitang the entire time and had not heard him give any instructions about taking over territory. The most likely explanation was that Hua Family’s own operational systems had always been this effective.

“What kind of person is the Hua Family head?” Lin Sui’an asked.

Jin Ruo: “The current Hua Family head is Hua Yitang’s eldest brother — Hua Yihuan. He is the only person capable of keeping Hua Yitang in line.”

Lin Sui’an drew a sharp breath. “Which means he must be —”

Jin Ruo: “Absolutely terrifying!”

The shop Manager Liu had mentioned was located at Number 346, Wan Lin Street in Morning Breeze Ward — a fruit stall, entirely unremarkable. Hua Family handled it with great discretion; nothing about the outside looked even slightly unusual. Lin Sui’an, Hua Yitang, and Jin Ruo entered the shop through the back door. The shop proprietor and his workers were crouched beneath the counter, trembling from head to toe, muttering repeatedly that they knew nothing, they knew absolutely nothing.

Manager Liu led the group to a side annex within the shop, where a small door was guarded by several of Hua Family’s men. Catching sight of Hua Yitang, they all bowed and stepped aside in unison.

Manager Liu pushed the door open carefully, and a great billowing mass of yellow spirit paper burst out and rained down on them. Hua Yitang let out a yelp. Lin Sui’an swept Qian Jing in a wide arc, scattering the paper to reveal the room within.

It was a funeral hall. White banners hung from the ceiling, candles flickered, incense smoke drifted in curling tendrils. The hall had no windows, and the space was cramped — barely enough room for two people to stand. In this confined space stood a wide wooden altar, densely packed with more than a hundred memorial tablets. Black backgrounds, white characters that flickered and danced in the candlelight — profoundly, bone-chillingly eerie.

Even Lin Sui’an was startled into a cold sweat, to say nothing of Hua Yitang.

Hua Yitang craned his neck to peer in with great caution, blinked, peered again — and his expression shifted. Forgetting his fright entirely, he strode straight in, seized one tablet, examined it, then grabbed another, inspecting five or six tablets in succession. His eyes grew dark and still.

The inscriptions on the tablets were very strange — not names, but entries such as “Heavy Smoke, Year 12 of the Xuanfeng Reign, Fourth Month, Eighth Day, aged eleven”; “Red Makeup Ward, First Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, Fifth Month, Sixth Day, aged ten”; “Kingfisher Moon Ward, Second Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, Eighth Month, Twentieth Day, aged nine,” and so on.

Lin Sui’an: “…”

Ward names of Yangdu? Dates? Ages? What on earth?!

Hua Yitang drew in a long breath and steadied his voice as best he could. “Back to the prefectural office.”

When Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang came striding back into the prefectural office, hauling two large bundles of memorial tablets, they happened to run right into Ling Zhiyan returning from outside. Ming Shu and Ming Feng were escorting someone swathed head to toe in concealment — but Lin Sui’an recognized the figure at a single glance: it was Feng Song.

Ling Zhiyan’s expression was priceless — shock tinged with puzzlement, puzzlement laced with elation, elation mixed with a thread of exasperation. Hua Yitang’s reaction was more direct: he swept past Ling Zhiyan like a gust of wind. “Ling the Sixth, I’ll settle accounts with you when I’m done here!”

“Hua Yitang, you —” Ling Zhiyan’s voice was left far behind. Hua Yitang navigated the gates and corridors from memory, heading straight to the records hall.

In the records hall, several clerks were carrying out their usual duties. They looked up at Hua Yitang in complete bewilderment — and they weren’t the only ones. Lin Sui’an was equally at a loss.

“Help me with this!” Hua Yitang untied the bundles, and memorial tablets spread across the floor. The clerks collectively stepped back half a pace. Hua Yitang produced a packet of gold leaf and tossed it to them. “Sort them by year.”

The clerks were immediately delighted, and sprang into action at once. In no time the tablets were arranged in neat, orderly rows. They stood at attention, waiting for further instructions.

Hua Yitang seized brush and paper and, with swift, decisive strokes, wrote out a long series of codes made up of various combinations of “Heaven, Earth, Mystery, Yellow; Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding.” “Bring me all the dossiers with these reference numbers!”

The clerks exchanged glances with each other. “In response to Fourth Young Master Hua — this records hall holds an enormous number of dossiers, and they are stored in great disorder. We truly are not familiar with the system.”

Hua Yitang frowned: “Is Qi Yuansheng not here?”

“He hasn’t slept in several days. He just went home.”

“Drag him back!”

One clerk hiked up his robe and ran out. Sure enough, Qi Yuansheng was hauled back before long — disheveled topknot, heavy dark circles, eyes threaded with red, stumbling from exhaustion. When he saw the memorial tablets blanketing the floor, he woke up with a start.

“What — what is the meaning of all this?!”

Hua Yitang flung the paper covered in dossier reference numbers at him. “Find these dossiers.”

Qi Yuansheng’s eyes shook with emotion. He held Hua Yitang’s gaze for a long, silent moment, then bowed his head, clasped his hands, turned, and disappeared into the layers of bookshelves. Several clerks, sensing the gravity of the atmosphere, quickly followed after Qi Yuansheng to assist. Before long, they began carrying out dossiers one by one.

Lin Sui’an stood beside Hua Yitang, watching him unfurl one scroll after another, listening to him read aloud the records within, one character at a time.

“Year 12 of the Xuanqi Reign, Third Month, Third Day: Household Huang husband and wife reported to the authorities. Their young daughter Huang Taoyingwent missing in Clear Song Ward. Age eight. The authorities dispatched constables to search for one month without finding any trace. Case closed.”

“First Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, Sixth Month, Fourteenth Day: Household Li reported to the authorities. Third daughter Li Dan went missing in Heavy Smoke Ward. Age seven. The authorities dispatched constables to search for one month without finding any trace. Case closed.”

“First Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, First Month, Third Day: Father and son of Household Qi reported to the authorities. Young daughter Qi Yuan went missing at the market. Age eight. The constables searched everywhere for one month without finding her. Case closed.”

“Second Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, Ninth Month, Fifth Day: Household Tian reported to the authorities. Young daughter Tian Xiaomei went missing in South Spring Ward. Age ten. The authorities dispatched constables to search for one month without finding any trace. Case closed.”

“First Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, Fourth Month, Twenty-Third Day… young daughter went missing, age eleven…”

“Year 13 of the Xuanqi Reign, Ninth Month, Third Day… young daughter went missing, age nine…”

“Third Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, Seventh Month, Ninth Day… age ten…”

“Year 12 of the Xuanqi Reign, Tenth Month, Tenth Day… age ten…”

“Fourth Year of the Xuanfeng Reign, Fifth Month, Thirtieth Day… age twelve…”

Lin Sui’an watched as Hua Yitang placed each dossier before its corresponding memorial tablet, matching them one by one — one, two, five, ten… a full one hundred and seventy-six… and still there were tablets that had no matching dossier to speak of…

The realization struck her all at once.

An emotion beyond words — fury and grief wound together — came flooding into her chest. Her heart blazed as though seared by flame; her body felt as though it had plunged into a bottomless pit of ice. Torn between fire and cold, she began to tremble uncontrollably, and a scalding wetness welled up at the corners of her eyes.

Sunlight poured through the windows, harsh and brilliant, casting long shadows from the memorial tablets — shadows that fell in dense clusters across the dossiers below. They were cold, silent tombstones. They were also crimes buried for many long years.