Zhù Ying made one final round of the newly purchased property before locking the gate and heading home. It was the Lantern Festival, and the family had planned to go out and enjoy the festivities. The moment she returned, Zhang Xiangu had something to say: “Where did you run off to? If we eat supper early tonight, we’ll have plenty of time to go out and have fun.”

“I went to look at the house,” Zhù Ying said.

Zhang Xiangu pressed further. “What house? Is it ours? Where is it? You child — how could you just go and settle something like this without a word?”

Zhù Ying gave a brief explanation: “I wasn’t sure whether I could buy both properties at the same time. If I couldn’t buy them together, buying just one would be useless, so I’d have had to walk away from both and look elsewhere. There was no point telling you until the deal was done.”

Zhang Xiangu clicked her tongue twice and said, “Two perfectly good households, and now this…”

Huajie said, “Are there any hidden troubles with it?”

“Both families have already moved out — what hidden troubles could there be?” Zhù Ying said. “The location is quite good too, right at the edge, facing the street.”

“Then let’s go and see it tonight!” Zhù Da said.

Zhang Xiangu was somewhat moved by the idea. Zhù Ying said, “All right, we’ll leave early, and I’ll take you to get your bearings. Then on a free day, you can go take a proper look. Don’t worry — the bloodstains have already been cleaned up.”

“Blood — blood — blood — blood—”

“Of course there was blood,” Zhù Ying said. “There was a brawl with a fatality, wasn’t there? And they went on living there for a while afterward out of spite, so naturally it was all cleaned up.”

“Isn’t that what they call a haunted house?” Zhù Da said.

“It is,” Zhù Ying said. “But we agreed from the start that we’d buy a haunted house, didn’t we? That’s the only reason we could get it at this price — everything was cut in half. Even after tearing it all down and rebuilding, the cost comes out the same. If it weren’t a haunted house, how would we afford such a large plot? And we still need money left over to demolish the old buildings and put up new ones.”

But “haunted” shouldn’t mean someone actually died inside the house itself! How could there have been a killing right there on the premises, rather than just outside the door?

Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu grew despondent. When they’d been so poor they hadn’t a single coin to their name, they had slept in graveyards without a second thought. But now that their daughter was an official and they even had a servant, they suddenly found they wanted nothing to do with haunted houses. Huajie also felt a chill creep in. She had been perfectly calm when Zhù Ying spoke of haunted houses and cursed houses in the abstract, but now that Zhù Ying had actually bought one, she found herself at a loss for words.

Nearby, Du Dajie was trembling a little too — resenting her station as a servant, which kept her from speaking.

“What’s wrong with all of you?” Zhù Ying said. “This city is full of houses with blood on their history! Right in this very ward — that old woman Wei’s shop at the front, someone was hacked to death there twenty years ago. And the place we rented before — next door, someone who couldn’t repay a gambling debt was cornered at his own gate and cut down, blood all over the courtyard. That happened just a few months before we moved to the capital, and the man who did the cutting was later executed by the Prefect of Jing. Didn’t we live there just fine?”

But she was genuinely unafraid, while her parents were genuinely frightened. Zhang Xiangu was on the verge of weeping: “Even if it’s a little smaller, even if it’s no bigger than where we live now — just let it be clean.” Zhù Da, too, lost all his earlier pride and elation. “Can’t we find a different one?”

But the money was already spent, and both of them sat there stunned, barely touching their supper, wearing the faces of people burdened with worry. Zhù Ying hired a carriage and took them to see the new property. The two of them were torn — they wanted to see it, and they didn’t.

The carriage pulled up in front of the house. Because it was the Lantern Festival, every corner of the city glowed with lanterns — every corner except this one, which was black as pitch. Zhang Xiangu was convinced she could feel ghosts staring at her, and said, “Let’s go. We’ll come back in the daytime!” Zhù Ying sighed and said, “Fine. Let’s go.”

She should never have told them about the history of this plot of land. She glanced over at Huajie, who also seemed somewhat distracted. Zhù Ying genuinely could not understand why all three of them were so frightened. “The bodies have been removed,” she said.

“Don’t you dare say another word!” Zhang Xiangu was so angry she started swatting her daughter. “Say it again! Just you dare say it again!”

She was in no mood to enjoy the lanterns now, and wore a sour expression all the way until they alighted at Ci’en Temple, where Zhang Xiangu said, “Quick, quick — let’s go pray to the Bodhisattva for protection! When we really do build that house, I absolutely must bring a Bodhisattva image back from here to ward off evil spirits!”

“Fine, if you want to pray to the Bodhisattva, then pray,” Zhù Ying said.

Zhang Xiangu shot her a sideways glance and scolded, “And now all you can do is talk big and offer nothing useful! And you keep big matters from us!”

Zhù Ying genuinely had not anticipated that this pair — who were themselves practitioners of superstition — could have become so squeamish. It was a holiday, and she had no desire to quarrel with her parents, so she simply said, “I take note of that. I won’t do it again.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “And there’ll be a next time? After spending all we have on this house, the family is cleaned out. Heaven knows when we’ll see the next one.”

“We will, in time,” Zhù Ying said. “Though the next one, a grander residence… will probably have more deaths attached to it.”

Zhang Xiangu was so furious she began chasing her daughter around inside the temple, while Huajie came running to intervene. Onlookers, not knowing what had happened, watched this commotion alongside the lantern displays — and it was only when Zhang Xiangu noticed them staring that she felt embarrassed enough to stop. Zhù Da had been silent throughout, and only when Zhang Xiangu, in her fury, walked off with Huajie and Du Dajie to look at the lanterns — abandoning husband and daughter entirely — did he turn to Zhù Ying and ask, “Is this really the only way?”

“This city has existed for so many years,” Zhù Ying said. “What corner of it hasn’t seen death? As for our family — I can hold it together.”

Zhù Da looked unhappy. Zhù Ying smiled and said, “Take your time strolling around. I’ll go walk on the other side too — otherwise they’ll see me and get irritated all over again.”

“What kind of situation is this?” Zhù Da muttered.

“You once took me to sleep in a dead man’s house,” Zhù Ying said. When she was small, Zhù Da had taken her along to scrape together a living, and there was nowhere they hadn’t bedded down. There had been households where people died violently, and the family would hire charlatans like themselves to perform rituals — and they would sleep on the floor of the very room where the body had lain, sprawled out right there beside it, blood splattered across half the chamber.

So Zhù Ying truly could not understand how her parents could have become so superstitious. What exactly did their family have to be so careful about?

Zhù Da said quietly, “I shouldn’t have taken you to see those things.” What man would drag his child along while begging if there had been any other way to put food in her mouth? But saying that now, to a daughter who had made something of herself, sounded like an excuse for his own past failures. He said, “Go and walk around. I’ll take a walk on my own too.”

Abandoned by both parents and Huajie, Zhù Ying scratched her head and thought: I’ll need to have a proper talk with them when we get home.

For now, she set the matter aside and gave herself over to enjoying the noise and revelry of the Lantern Festival.

——

Strolling through the streets, Zhù Ying happened to catch another witless petty thief, grabbing him by the ear and saying, “You’re new here, aren’t you? Trying to steal from me of all people?”

The thief squirmed and argued: “You pretty-faced little—slandering a good man out of nowhere! Friends and neighbors, there’s plenty of this sort of thing these days…”

He never finished the sentence before someone shouted, “Beat him!”

Two burly men came barreling over and pinned the thief down for a thorough thrashing. Zhù Ying said, “Sanlang? Hey — it’s a holiday. Don’t beat him to a pulp.”

Yang Sanlang from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices came over and tried to grab her arm; Zhù Ying twisted her wrist nimbly, slipping out of his grip, and asked, “What do you want?”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Something’s happened! Do me a favor — I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

“What happened, exactly?”

Yang Sanlang told the two thugs, “That’s enough — tell them to get lost!” The two men kicked the thief aside and fell in behind Yang Sanlang. He said, “Sanlang, let’s step aside a moment.”

Zhù Ying could see smoke practically rising from the top of his head, nothing at all like his usual manner when he buzzed about collecting and spreading the latest news. He seemed genuinely shaken. She followed him to a slightly quieter spot. As they walked, he leaned close and said, “My cousin has gone missing.”

“What?” Zhù Ying was startled too. “Today? The Lantern Festival has barely started.”

“Tell me about it! My aunt is beside herself — threatening to hang herself!”

“Which aunt?”

“Which one do you think? I only have one aunt now!” Yang Sanlang said. “And I haven’t dared tell my uncle yet. When he comes back from the palace later, that’s when the real trouble starts.”

Yang Sanlang’s eunuch uncle Luo Yuan held considerable standing in the inner court — not quite on par with the Chief Eunuch Lan Xing, but easily within the top five among eunuchs. He had rank at court and a household of his own outside the palace. But this cousin… Zhù Ying had never actually heard anything about the boy’s background. She didn’t even know how old the child was. No wonder — Yang Sanlang talked endlessly about all manner of gossip, but almost never mentioned his uncle’s family.

“Then you should take your uncle’s calling card and go to the Jing Prefecture or the Wannian or Chang’an county offices!” Zhù Ying said. “The Prefect Wang is not one to defer to the powerful, but a missing child — that he would certainly look into.”

“We already went.”

“Then that’s all you can do,” Zhù Ying said. “During the Lantern Festival they definitely have extra constables on duty precisely to prevent incidents like this, plus the imperial guards — not just for missing persons, but to prevent fires as well. As for the Court of Judicial Review, everyone except a few on rotation is on leave tonight, so I can’t pull anyone together to help search for the child. It is a child, yes? How old?”

“I need no one else — just you! You’re capable!” Yang Sanlang said urgently.

Zhù Ying was bewildered. What capability did she have for something like this? “Was the child lost from home?” she asked.

“No.”

“Lost in the street?”

“Ah. Yes.”

Zhù Ying cast her eyes around — people everywhere. She looked down, and in the time it took to draw a breath, someone’s footprints had already been swallowed by the crowd. How was one supposed to search for anyone? And for child thieves to have set their sights on a high-ranking eunuch’s household, something about this felt off. What sort of fool would be so reckless? She asked again, “Surely it wasn’t a servant who took the child out to see the lanterns? And wasn’t watching over him?”

Yang Sanlang’s face was ashen. “Exactly. My aunt wanted to visit with her friends and couldn’t get away, and the child was crying and fussing, so she sent someone to take him off to see the lanterns elsewhere. And now the child is gone — how do I explain this? Good brother, you have to help me with this!”

He grabbed Zhù Ying’s arm. “Come meet my aunt — you know people at the Jing Prefecture, and if both of you apply pressure together, maybe the child can be found!”

“Then you’d better tell me the full story first, and what this child’s situation is. As I recall, the Eunuch Luo originally had only a few nephews taking turns attending to him, didn’t he?”

“Originally! This child was only bought at the start of the year. They were going to hold a banquet for him in the second month.”

“Oh?”

“At first he was going to adopt one of his own clansmen’s sons, but he couldn’t decide which of the nephews was more filial, so he brought several of them to the capital — he was going to raise them all up anyway. They came to the capital, handled affairs and held positions, and meanwhile he observed which one seemed most proper. They all flattered my aunt, and she had her eye on one or two of them.

“But then, toward the start of this year, a house servant died of illness. Someone said they might as well buy a few more while they were at it, so they bought several people from outside — rough workers, no one paid much attention to them. Among them was a couple who were assigned to tend the garden, to grow flowers and weed. When the master wanted to view the garden they were supposed to keep out of the way, and no one gave them a second thought. Then one day, for some reason, after my uncle came home and went for a stroll in the garden, he ran into that couple and their child playing there. My uncle took one look at the child — and was smitten!”

“This particular child?”

“Yes. My uncle said the child looked exactly like him when he was little! He absolutely had to have him as a son.”

“And the child’s parents agreed?”

Yang Sanlang held up an open palm: “Five hundred guan! And their freedom papers. They were still young — they could always have more children. How could they refuse? The money changed hands that same day, and they took their wife and left. And then — my aunt’s house is just up ahead, here we are.”

“So your aunt took the child out to see the lanterns, ran into an acquaintance she couldn’t avoid speaking to, and because the child was crying and fussing, handed him off to a servant to take him elsewhere to see the lanterns — and now the child is missing, so she hurried home, sent people to report it to the authorities, and sent word to your uncle?”

“That’s right,” Yang Sanlang said with perfect confidence.

Zhù Ying looked at this grand residence — the facade alone was larger than both of her newly purchased properties combined! Brought inside by Yang Sanlang, she found the place ablaze with light in every direction, and asked, “How large is this estate?”

“Ten mu? Roughly — I never asked. Chief Eunuch Lan Xing’s is even bigger!”

“Is it possible the child already came home? With a place this large, he might not have been noticed.”

“We’ve searched everywhere already! The first thing we asked was whether he’d come back on his own.”

Yang Sanlang walked Zhù Ying to the inner gate, where someone reached out to stop them: “Sanlang, who is this?”

Yang Sanlang explained all over again. “I’ve brought help — Investigator Zhù from the Court of Judicial Review! Go on, go tell my aunt!” The man looked Zhù Ying over before heading inside. Yang Sanlang stomped his foot in frustration, seized Zhù Ying’s arm, and pulled her along: “Never mind him, let’s go!”

Zhù Ying was hauled before Eunuch Luo Yuan’s wife. This high eunuch’s pampered spouse had a composed, proper face — if no one told you who her husband was, you would assume she came from some distinguished family. At this moment, though richly dressed in gold-and-red embroidered silks and expensive jewels, she had been weeping until her eyes were swollen, and she kept asking, “Is there any news?! What does the Jing Prefecture say? Where is Sanlang? That little wretch — whenever you need him, he’s nowhere to be found!”

Yang Sanlang called out loudly, “I’m here! Aunt, I’ve brought help!”

His aunt was furious. “Where did you disappear to?! What use is anyone’s help at this point?!”

Yang Sanlang bowed to Zhù Ying: “Please, please, quickly!”

This lost-child situation was one that occurred all the time — and once a child was gone, getting them back was usually a long shot. The child had gone missing on his aunt’s watch, and when his uncle came home, there was no telling how he’d react!

He introduced Zhù Ying to his aunt, and was about to make sweeping promises on her behalf when Zhù Ying gave him a kick from behind. She stepped forward and said, “Madam, when it comes to finding people, you must rely on the Jing Prefecture — they have the manpower. There is little this junior can do…”

Just then another person came from outside and said, “If you can do little, then don’t bother… Oh? Sanlang?”

Zhù Ying recognized this one too — a nephew of Luo Yuan’s, serving in the imperial guards, two ranks below Wen Yue and the others.

They all knew each other, which made the conversation easier. The wife saw that Zhù Ying seemed to be on familiar terms with both sides, and asked, “What can you do, young official? We’ve already notified the Jing Prefecture.”

Zhù Ying had already run through several possibilities in her mind, but still spoke modestly: “This junior can do little more than offer some words. Madam would be better off sending someone to inform the Eunuch Luo first.”

“That’s already been done.”

“And he hasn’t returned to the estate?”

The wife said, “We’ve searched every rat hole in the place!”

“Who was minding the young master when he went out? How many attendants were with him? Has anyone asked the shopkeepers at the location where he disappeared — with the lanterns permitted to burn all night, there should have been shops open along the road.”

Yang Sanlang said, “There were three people assigned to go with him! One was carrying him, two were following alongside. Maybe he just ran off on his own?”

“How old is he?”

“Thr — three years old…”

Zhù Ying stared at Yang Sanlang, speechless. A three-year-old child making a break for it? More likely a three-year-old horse might bolt!

“Where are the attendants now?”

The wife looked livid. “They didn’t go missing! They went back out with search parties — oh, where are they now?!”

“Where was he lost?”

“Over on Vermilion Sparrow Street.”

Zhù Ying thought: what a mess. You’re all talking in circles, you want me to help find the child, but you’re not giving me a complete account of things, just one sentence at a time as I drag it out. And it isn’t even a case I’m assigned to handle. I should just quietly find my way out of this.

“In that case,” Zhù Ying said, “this junior will go and check in at the Jing Prefecture.”

Yang Sanlang said, “Hey, you—”

“I’m just one person,” Zhù Ying said. “For finding someone, I’d still have to rely on them. The Prefect Wang won’t be at his office on a day like today — what official wouldn’t be out enjoying the festival with the people? Let me go and ask the constables on duty whether they have any news. Madam — what was the child wearing?”

“A little padded coat, and a tiger-head cap on his head, a gold necklet, and gold bracelets on his wrists and ankles with bells — set with gemstones! Engraved with the character for ‘Luo.'”

If someone had indeed taken the child, Zhù Ying thought, all that finery was almost certainly gone by now.

She said, “Please don’t blame me for speaking plainly — this situation is difficult. If you press too hard, the child might be harmed. A better approach is to offer a reward, and make it clear that as long as the child is returned, the household will ask no questions of anyone, and will simply give thanks to whoever, as a good-natured passerby, helped bring the child home. Whoever returns the child receives a sum of money; anyone with useful information receives a lesser amount. You may set the reward figures yourself. As for what the child was wearing — let it go, treat it as part of the reward.”

The wife said, “That’s sensible. I’ll go and discuss it with my husband.”

“Then this junior will take her leave first.”

Yang Sanlang still wanted to say something, but Zhù Ying waved him off. She did not linger in the Luo household. The lanterns were no longer something she could enjoy, so she left the estate and went to the Jing Prefecture.

——

The Jing Prefecture was lit up bright as day inside, as it was every year at this time — many of its people unable to properly enjoy a holiday atmosphere. With Prefect Wang Yunhe and his senior staff away, He Jing was left particularly miserable, still at his desk.

Zhù Ying’s arrival surprised him. “What is it? Did you lose someone from your household too?”

“Too?” Zhù Ying said.

“There are always plenty of missing-person reports at this time of year. Young women, young wives, children — all kinds. The festival’s barely started, so the reports are still trickling in. Wait until after midnight, and there’ll be a flood. And by tomorrow morning, when people realize someone hasn’t come home all night, there’ll be more. Once the three days are up, that’s when we’ll really be busy.” He could see from her expression that she showed no sign of alarm, so likely no one in her household had gone missing.

After his explanation, He Jing frowned again. “Too?”

“Luo Yuan’s adopted son has gone missing.”

He Jing pressed a hand to his forehead. “We already know! It’s not the sort of thing to trouble the Prefect over — we’re working on it. What do you think, Sanlang?”

“This isn’t my case to handle,” Zhù Ying said. “I was out wandering when Yang Sanlang from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices grabbed me — his aunt is Luo Yuan’s wife, and he dragged me along. I came to take a look, so I can report back to Yang Sanlang.”

He Jing said, puzzled, “That doesn’t seem like you. Why aren’t you looking into it? I was hoping to hear your take.”

“I’d like to help find the child,” Zhù Ying said. “But from the moment the child disappeared to now, someone with quick feet could have covered twenty li outside the city. And I can’t exactly close the city gates and search house by house. This is still up to you.”

He Jing shook his head. “As I see it, all we can do is post notices everywhere, and possibly offer a reward. The child is too small to explain much on his own. Every year so many children go missing, and so few come back. If we press the search too hard, they might harm the child, bury him in the ground, and leave no trace. And if they want to make it even simpler—just throw him in a river. Ah…”

“Everybody knows how this works,” Zhù Ying said. “To really find someone, you can’t be too lax and you can’t be too aggressive. I’ll go out and try my luck on the street.”

“Safe travels.”

Zhù Ying left the Jing Prefecture and went to find Old Ma and Old Mu. Old Mu, when he had nothing to do, would go to Old Ma’s place for tea, and both of them rose to greet her when she appeared: “A distinguished guest.”

Zhù Ying pressed another small piece of gold into Old Ma’s hand. “Put it in my account. Business still good?”

Old Ma pocketed the gold. “It wasn’t, but with this, it is now.”

Zhù Ying could see the place was already filling up with people who’d walked themselves tired, and said, “How much better does it need to be? Lease the room next door as well?”

“That’d work me to death. Not doing it,” Old Ma said.

Old Mu asked, “You’re out wandering on your own?”

“Some good that does — something’s already come up!” Zhù Ying said. “Lately, have there been any particularly bold child thieves around?”

“What’s happened?” Both men startled at the same time. If Zhù Ying was coming to ask, the matter was likely complicated — and complicated matters tended to draw serious official attention. When the authorities got serious, people like them who lived in the margins were the ones who suffered.

Zhù Ying looked at them with something like sympathy and said, “Luo Yuan’s new son is missing — already reported to the Jing Prefecture. That household will probably be posting rewards and pursuing leads very soon. If anyone you know did this, tell them to return the child quietly. If it wasn’t anyone you know — keep your heads down, don’t stick your necks out.”

Both men nodded. Old Mu said, “Even if we have some standing in these circles, not everyone necessarily listens to us.”

Old Ma said, “There’s an emperor sitting in the palace telling officials not to take bribes or bully the people — and there are still those who don’t listen. Asking a bunch of thieves to behave…”

“Just enjoy the sound of your own voice,” Zhù Ying said. “Look out for yourselves.”

“Understood! If we hear anything, we’ll let you know.”

These two had been living more and more like respectable citizens lately, Zhù Ying reflected — which was no bad thing.

On the way home, she picked up a lantern from a street vendor — she still had to report to her office tomorrow.

Back at home, the other four hadn’t returned yet. Zhù Ying boiled her own water, washed up, and went to sleep. Half-drifting, she heard movement — it was Zhù Da, returning alone first. He’d wandered around by himself, and the thought of the haunted house weighed on him until he couldn’t shake it; he’d eaten a bowl of glutinous rice balls at a stall outside and come home.

A knock at the door, and Zhù Ying was awake, shuffling to open it in her shoes. “You’re back?”

“Your mother and the others haven’t come back yet?”

“No.”

Zhù Da wanted to talk with her, but seeing how she looked and remembering she still had to report for duty tomorrow, he swallowed his words. Zhù Ying said, “There’s hot water in the pot, and the stove still has some embers — I haven’t put them out.”

“I don’t need to wash up. You go to sleep. I’ll open the door when they get back,” Zhù Da said.

Zhù Ying had barely lain down before Zhang Xiangu and the others returned — they too had lost their desire to stay out late tonight. They knocked, and no one answered; Zhù Ying had to climb out of bed again to open the door. Once everyone was inside, Zhù Da slowly roused himself, bleary-eyed: “You’re back?”

Zhang Xiangu snapped, “What, you were hoping I wouldn’t come back?”

Zhù Ying looked over the three of them — all present and accounted for — and said, “Don’t say things like that. Tonight someone else really did go missing.”

Zhang Xiangu was startled. “Whose family? Anyone we know?”

“The son that Yang Sanlang’s uncle bought.”

Zhang Xiangu forgot to be angry, and said, “Oh my, how awful. Will they be able to find him?” Even as she said it, she felt the odds were not good.

“It’ll be hard,” Zhù Ying said. “Get some sleep. Look at the lanterns again tomorrow, and be careful.”

“Who’d want to abduct an old woman like me?”

“Not abduction — there’s all kinds of other things they could do. Kidnapping for ransom, for one,” Zhù Ying said. “Just be careful. The hot water is on the stove.”

Zhang Xiangu no longer said anything more to Zhù Ying about the new house. The family went to their separate rooms for the night.

——

The next day, Zhù Ying went to the Court of Judicial Review. By then, without Yang Sanlang having to say a word, several well-informed colleagues already knew about the Luo family’s situation.

The moment she arrived, the Left Supervisory Official pulled her aside: “Did you see it on your way in?”

“The Luo family’s reward notice?” Overnight, the Luo household had put up reward posters everywhere: any gold ornaments the child had been wearing would be forfeited without question as thanks to anyone who helped. Beyond that — two hundred guan for returning the child, ten guan per useful piece of information, one hundred guan for personally leading them to the child.

“Yes.”

“I knew about it last night.”

“Even you can’t find the child?” The Left Supervisory Official looked genuinely shocked. “Then this child will be very hard to recover.”

“I’m not a professional child-finder! I investigate cases,” Zhù Ying said.

“True enough — better to keep well clear of this business. The reward is substantial. If it was a trafficker, they might just give the child back. But if it was something else…”

“Lower your voice,” Zhù Ying said.

That too was what she worried about. The child’s disappearance could be explained in several ways: first, a trafficker; second — and she was not above suspecting Luo Yuan’s nephews, or even Yang Sanlang himself; third, a kidnapping for ransom; fourth, one of Luo Yuan’s enemies; fifth, the child’s own birth parents. Of the first four, she would gladly help track down the perpetrators; the fifth — she wouldn’t help run them to ground and would count it a virtue if she didn’t help them escape.

A birth parent was still a parent, even if a poor one, and not every poor parent treated their children as commodities to be sold for gain or traded away for favors.

If it was a trafficker, the child most likely still lived. If it was a ransom scheme, the large reward might be enough to satisfy them, so they’d have no reason to harm the child. Against either of those possibilities, the reward notice might actually prove useful.

As for Luo Yuan’s nephews — with this child’s arrival, they had lost their chance to inherit Luo Yuan’s estate, and if some wicked impulse had moved them to do away with the child, they stood to gain enormously. And an enemy of Luo Yuan’s, seizing the chance to make him suffer, was not out of the question either.

She and the Left Supervisory Official exchanged a few more words than they might have, given their familiarity with Yang Sanlang. Other colleagues’ discussions centered mostly on the small child’s fate — so well-positioned in life, adopted by Luo Yuan, and yet to have the misfortune of crossing paths with traffickers. And then there was the extraordinary reward.

A few sharp and seasoned officers shared the same suspicion as the Left Supervisory Official — that the nephews or enemies might be behind it — but they too kept quiet. Everyone simply didn’t say it aloud.

Even Su Kuang said, “This is going to be a headache.”

He had long since stopped trying to trip up Zhù Ying — after Zheng Xi put her in charge of the Court of Judicial Review’s routine affairs, Su Kuang had simply shifted his attention elsewhere. The Left Supervisory Official had had plenty to say about that.

Not long after, Zheng Xi returned from court, and said nothing about the matter. The Court of Judicial Review passed the day as calmly as though nothing had happened.

After work, however, Zhù Ying made another trip to the Jing Prefecture — Luo Yuan would certainly be pressuring Wang Yunhe, and she wanted to check in on how things were progressing.

When she arrived, Wang Yunhe had already changed into casual clothes. He looked at her and said, “What brings you today?”

“Last night, the Luo household—”

“His Majesty asked about it today as well,” Wang Yunhe said.

Luo Yuan served in the palace attendant upon the Emperor. After losing his son, he had gone before the Emperor and said he needed to find his boy. The Emperor felt considerable sympathy for this eunuch, and after the court session, had kept Wang Yunhe back to ask about it.

“One can’t be too hasty in declaring it was a trafficker,” Zhù Ying murmured. “There are still too many unknowns.”

“You think so too?”

Zhù Ying gave a rueful smile. “I’m hardly the only one. Others have their suspicions too, they just can’t say so aloud. Accusing someone without evidence — and if the child never comes back, what kind of life would that person have to live?”

“There must be some trail,” Wang Yunhe said. “We pursue two avenues simultaneously — one is financial motive, the other is a grudge motive. No, there’s a third possibility as well…”

He trailed off with a troubled frown, as though reluctant to continue. “You—” Zhù Ying began.

“Better not to press the search too aggressively,” Wang Yunhe said. “Handle it quietly. And those who’ve asked you for help — tell them not to be impatient.”

“I never took this case on. The idea for the reward notice was mine, and once I offered that suggestion I was done taking on anything further.”

Wang Yunhe gave a sound of acknowledgment and let the matter drop, turning instead to ask Zhù Ying how the house plans were coming, whether she’d seen the architect yet.

“I’ll see Old Master Fu again on the twentieth of the first month — let the man have his holiday for now,” Zhù Ying said, spreading her hands.

Wang Yunhe nodded. “Leave the missing-person case alone.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying answered obediently and then took her leave. She understood that Wang Yunhe had also guessed it — at least as one possibility — that the child might have been taken by his birth parents. And Wang Yunhe too was weighing what could be done if that turned out to be true. The nature of the situation might shift entirely from “trafficking” to a confidence scheme. The child was pitiable in any case. To have a child wrested from his parents and handed to a eunuch — even a principled person would find that hard to stomach. Yet there was also the fear that it might truly be traffickers, or even foul play. For now, each possibility had to be ruled out in turn before any decision could be made. This was already beyond what Zhù Ying could manage — and it might even be difficult for Wang Yunhe, because they didn’t know the child’s birth parents’ circumstances. To inquire would be to alert the Luo household, and what Luo Yuan might do next was impossible to predict. To question the nephews would be telling them openly: I suspect you.

And Zhù Ying was a friend of Yang Sanlang’s — it was not appropriate for her to be involved.

When Zhù Ying arrived home, she finally received the cold treatment she’d been expecting. Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da had had time to think it over, and the logic had settled in their minds: what did someone else’s lost child have to do with them having to live in a haunted house?

Zhù Ying had no choice but to reason with them. “This sort of house is better suited for our family. Hardly anyone will know about it unless we tell them. Think about it — all those haunted houses I mentioned, aren’t people living in them just fine now? Besides, the two of you have practiced divination your whole lives — have you ever actually seen a ghost? Seen a god? Has a single fortune you’ve told ever come true? You’re not doing any better than I am…”

Huajie’s expression twisted through a dozen emotions: won’t you just keep quiet — you’re going to get hit again!

But Zhù Ying’s argument had some merit. The one accurate prediction Zhang Xiangu could recall in her entire life was when she’d correctly told Yu Miaomiao whether she was carrying a boy.

Huajie felt a small measure of relief and said, “And the old buildings?”

“Demolished, of course! All the walls will be rebuilt from scratch. They were two separate three-room, two-courtyard layouts — now we join them into one. The main house is still three rooms, but the courtyard will be wider.”

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da, having had their weak points exposed, found Zhang Xiangu launching into another round of hitting her daughter before finally saying, “Then tear it all down — and scrape the ground too!”

“Fine! I promise not a drop of blood will remain.”

“Oh, goodness gracious!”

Zhù Ying gave her word, and Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da no longer wanted to go see the location of the new property. They would wait until Zhù Ying had people demolish the old buildings, clear the earth thoroughly, and only then would they go to see the land.

Zhù Ying had finally managed to bring her family around. Not that they had much choice — with only so much money, wanting to live in a larger house left no other option.

“Prepare some gifts as well,” Zhù Ying added. “When the time comes there’ll be Old Master Fu who’ll be drawing up the plans.”

“Of course,” Huajie said.

——

On the twentieth day of the first month, Fu Long was brought to Zhù Ying’s home by a runner from the Jing Prefecture. Zhang Xiangu, Zhù Da, and Huajie had no choice but to accept reality — very well, so be it.

Huajie had prepared a gift, and also gave the runner a red envelope.

Fu Long’s back was bent and his hair was white, but his hearing was sharp and his sight was clear, and his clothing was neat and tidy. Upon seeing Zhù Ying, he moved to bow, and Zhù Ying said, “You are already seventy — you need not bow to anyone anymore.”

“I’ve been observing proper ceremony all my life,” Fu Long said. “I’ll just go on observing it.”

Zhù Ying asked him to sit and explained her situation and her requirements.

“I would still need to see the plot of land to draw up a proper plan,” Fu Long said. He explained that even with the same surface area, different proportions of length and width would call for different designs. Even with identical dimensions, a site in one location might call for a different design than the same dimensions elsewhere.

“Please wait a moment,” Zhù Ying said. She called in Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da, who had been eavesdropping just outside, and said to them, “Tell this master what kind of house you want. Shortly we’ll go and look at the land so he can get a clear picture of what is and isn’t feasible.”

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da had never been inside a fine residence. The more they described, the more their ideas sounded like Jin Liang’s house. Zhù Da said he wanted a training ground where he could practice martial exercises; Zhang Xiangu said she needed a storeroom, and so on.

Fu Long memorized everything. Zhù Ying called a carriage, helped him inside, and set off for the new address.

She unlocked the gate and invited Fu Long in. He walked through both courtyards, measured them out in rough strides, then went out to see the surroundings. Standing outside the gate, he turned to Zhù Ying and said, “Official, would you prefer the main courtyard facing the outside or the inside? If you put the main courtyard facing the street, it will be noisy and not particularly safe. If you place it toward the interior, it will share a wall with the neighbor. If you build the side rooms to two stories, you’ll block the neighbor’s light — you’d need to discuss that with them first.”

Saying it would block their light was the polite version. When two houses share a wall, if yours is even three bricks higher it earns you a neighbor’s scowl; an entire extra story would likely spark another round of brawls and casualties between the two families. On the positive side, the rear faced an alley, so the main building could manage two or three stories without difficulty.

Zhù Ying was briefly thrown. She thought for a moment and said, “Draw up the plan first. When it’s done we can look at it, and if it doesn’t work, it’s just a matter of flipping the layout left to right!”

“Very well.”

Zhù Ying had the carriage driver take Fu Long home, and started walking back herself, only to find Yang Sanlang planted in front of her house.

“Is the child found?” she asked.

Yang Sanlang said, “Was it Luo the Second or Luo the Fifth who did it?”

“Where is that coming from?”

“The Jing Prefecture questioned them today…”

Trouble, as expected, has arrived, Zhù Ying thought.