A death demands all attention.

The sudden news of a murder intruding on their excitement was not welcome to the county gentry—though none of them complained openly. They were also a little curious, a little worried, and didn’t know where the death had occurred.

Zhù Ying, hearing of the death, felt a peculiarly strange sense of ease—this was a line of work she knew well. Compared to a murder case, governing a county and making this desperately poor place less wretched was actually the harder challenge.

She could see that Tong Bo had gone pale. She asked: “Has someone dragged a body to the gate to cause a scene?”

Tong Bo was so caught off guard by the question that Xiao Wu had to shout it at him again before he answered: “No—no, nothing like that. A person died in a village outside the city. The village head sent someone to report it!”

Deputy Magistrate Guan said: “Why are you stammering like that? Which village? What did the one who reported it say?”

Tong Bo said: “Thirty li out—Xieyu. Died terribly! The body wasn’t brought in.”

Guan knew the county fairly well and recognized Xieyu Village as a settlement about thirty li from the county town, sitting against a small hillside, named after a peculiarly leaning willow at the village entrance.

A death occurring in Fulu County was not unheard of. In the past, such matters tended to be “settled privately,” and Guan and the others generally did not pass word up the chain; Magistrate Wang hadn’t much bothered to ask. The people of Fulu County had more or less gotten used to this. Even if Guan and the others had wanted to pursue a case, it was hard to find anyone—Fulu County’s vast territory and sparse population, combined with proximity to the mountains, made disappearing easy enough.

When Guan handed over the county records to Zhù Ying, he had presented the criminal cases section as a clean slate.

Now a case had come up, and he couldn’t very well push it back onto his superior and say it was because Zhù Ying’s arrival had somehow spoiled the local character. He could only say: “You didn’t even see it yourself—how can you say the death was terrible?”

Zhù Ying cut in: “Who died?”

Tong Bo said: “A young man from that village, not yet thirty. Spring planting finished and everyone went home to rest. But he was found dead in his house—just about hacked to pieces. His mother has nearly cried herself blind. The village sent someone here to report it. They need the killer caught.”

Guan curled his lip: “Exaggerating again! Hacked to pieces and yet you could still tell who it was?”

Zhù Ying said: “What exactly it looks like—won’t we know once we go and see? Where is the coroner’s assistant?”

Fulu County being an upper-tier county, it had four coroner’s assistants. Even though the county magistrate had not been in residence, these posts had been filled. Now all four were present, and Zhù Ying said: “Gao Shan, you take two people and go have a look.”

Fulu County’s custom had been that coroner’s assistants rarely did real work. Summoned out of nowhere, Gao Shan said: “Yes.” He casually pointed at two people and set off—and nearly left the city before remembering he’d forgotten the coroner. He hurriedly sent a runner to fetch the coroner and had him join the group. He also brought along the person who had reported the case, meaning to question him on the road.

With the county magistrate not to be trifled with, Gao Shan didn’t dare slack. Under the old county head, he might have let this whole matter wither on the vine.

But now he didn’t dare.

Zhù Ying sent people off, but didn’t go herself just yet. However, since there had been a death, it was not really appropriate to go on gathering to discuss money. She announced: “Everyone please go home and think it over. If you have good ideas, you’re welcome to share them. Just one thing—the county’s grain crops must continue to be planted. No exceptions. This is the foundation—it keeps people alive.”

Gu Weng and the others all said: “Of course. Can’t forget the roots.”

Zhù Ying said: “The people are like water—water doesn’t reason about where it flows. It fills every hollow it finds. If something can earn money, why not do it? But there are limits to everything. Anyone who destroys farmland to do so—I’ll destroy them.”

Everyone tensed, heads dipping politely: “Yes.”

Zhù Ying made a gesture of invitation and ushered the gentry out of the county office with every courtesy.

Among the gentry, some were disappointed they couldn’t plant more, some were already thinking about how to open up new markets, and others were wondering what kind of story to invent. Few were thinking about what would happen if things didn’t work out. Over the past year or more, they had grown increasingly confident in Zhù Ying.

Having something to look forward to, they had the mental space to think about other things. After a while, when they found a moment of quiet, they remembered—ah, that murder case. Whatever came of it?

——

It wasn’t their fault for not having thought of it sooner—a death was a weighty matter, with specific exceptions.

Deaths were not especially rare in Fulu County. But in the vast majority of cases involving a killing, those involved preferred not to report it.

For a report to matter, someone had to be willing to deal with it, hadn’t they?

If the case was reported and the yamen brushed it off, or dragged the reporting party in for endless rounds of questioning while making no move to arrest the suspect and hold a proper hearing, what was the point of reporting?

If the yamen did get involved and in the end ruled arbitrarily—pointing to some wretched beggar as the killer and calling the case closed—what was the point of reporting? Once, twice, and the heart went cold.

Even if the yamen intervened, you’d still have to wine and dine the officials when they came to the village. Who would go looking for that trouble?

Many villagers chose to settle things privately, or to consult the elders of their lineage, the senior members of the village, the gentry sitting in their estate. And the gentry were typically the prominent figures of a surname-lineage in the countryside.

The first time Zhù Ying went down to the villages, she encountered only minor squabbles. The second time was much the same. Part of that was this deep-seated inertia.

The fact that someone had come to report a case today was, therefore, somewhat peculiar—worth a moment’s reflection.

All of this Zhù Ying had already thought through. But she still had to go through the proper procedure—it showed the county office would not ignore the people, and showed she was the county magistrate, that there was some imperial authority behind her, and that when things happened she would send the officials whose duty it was to handle them. By her experience, the local “simple folk” had a tendency not to cover up evidence when they committed crimes. Coroner’s assistant Gao Shan could do the first pass; if he couldn’t work it out, she would go look herself, and there was no worry that evidence would deteriorate too much in the meantime.

After sending Gao Shan off, she called in the land registrar’s assistants. An upper-tier county had four of those as well, and Zhù Ying had filled all four posts since arriving. Now all four were present, and she assigned tasks: “Draw up a register of stonemasons in the county. I have work to assign them.”

The land registrar’s assistants all agreed without question, and no one said “spring planting just ended, show some consideration for the people’s strength.” They only asked one question: “Your Excellency, how many do you need? So we can prepare.”

Zhù Ying said: “Attendant Qi, explain it to them.”

The number was one Qi Tai had calculated. Going by the sequence of “county town first, then townships, then villages last”—any village with more than twenty households would need a literacy stele erected. The appropriate labor would be levied from across the county and coordinated by the county office. If a twenty-household village were left to quarry its own stone, inscribe a dozen or more steles accurately and with fine workmanship, the villagers would be rolling up their bedding and fleeing into the mountains to join Zhao Su’s uncle before the week was out.

Qi Tai reported a number. Zhù Ying said: “Those levied for this work will not be called for any other service this year. That point must be made clear. Actually—I’ll put out an announcement. You circulate it.”

The land registrar’s assistants agreed and went about their work.

Registered stonemasons simply needed to be notified of the start date. The rough laborers had to be levied from the villages.

The actual situation in a small place like Fulu County differed from what Zhù Ying had seen in the court’s regulations and legal codes—she had personal experience of this. In the countryside, there were many people registered as commoner farmers who also did various other kinds of work. Just as Zhù Ying, though not a farmer, had also made small trinkets, helped Zhù Zhu put up wood sheds, and patched rooftops—many villagers, in addition to farming, had some skill in stonemasonry or carpentry. But they weren’t registered on the craftsman rolls. Fulu County’s population was small, and the registered craftsmen in absolute numbers were very few.

Zhù Ying intended to levy people who had some skill to do the quarrying and rough-shaping of the stone into stele bodies, leaving the final inscription to the best stonemasons.

The land registrar’s assistants reported back the list of registered stonemasons first. Zhù Ying looked it over—six formally registered stonemasons. These were the “master workers,” as they were commonly called; everyone else was “junior workers.” When work arose, the master workers would oversee the junior workers. Masters handled the most complex and difficult tasks; junior workers did the heavy labor and the preparation. For Fulu County, six stonemason masters were sufficient.

Zhù Ying was not planning to rebuild the county office this year. Any damaged areas would be patched and made do. For this year’s labor, the stonework’s major project was the literacy steles.

She went over the list and then ordered the household registers for all six men to be brought as well, to see whether, like Stonemason Pang, they had grown sons who could also work. Craftsmen generally preferred to pass their trade to their own sons first, then to apprentices, or to sons-in-law. The court and imperial system also preferred it this way—father a stonemason, son a stonemason, so the court would always have a stable supply.

Zhù Ying counted: of the six, four had more than one son, and by age they all seemed capable of helping. She thought: that’s enough hands. Even if their skills fell short, having Stonemason Pang guide them a bit should be sufficient.

She then sent Xiao Wu to find Xiao Jiang.

——

Xiao Jiang no longer wore Daoist robes. The few sets she had brought with her had worn out after a year or more, and she had cut away the worn-out, somewhat wide sleeves and reshaped them into a narrow-sleeved style more suited to movement. Her hairstyle hadn’t changed—still the female Daoist style, hair combed up and knotted at the crown. She looked very neat and crisp.

When she appeared before Zhù Ying, she was wearing a large plain-colored apron.

Zhù Ying asked: “What were you in the middle of?”

Xiao Jiang’s eyes were bright and lively as she looked at Zhù Ying and said: “Your Excellency, just a while ago Master Zhang went out of the city, so I’ve been tidying up the mortuary!”

Ever since she had taken up the coroner’s assistant trade, she had been learning as an apprentice and had yet to be certified, but she had already picked up some skills. Now was the period when her enthusiasm was greatest. Since the deceased was a man, Coroner’s Assistant Zhang had not brought her along; Xiao Jiang was a little disappointed, but rallied her spirits and gave the mortuary another thorough cleaning—opening the windows for ventilation and lighting incense to repel insects.

She had just been in the middle of this when Zhù Ying called for her, and she assumed Zhù Ying was going to send her along to take a look as well.

Zhù Ying asked: “All cleaned up?”

“Yes!”

Zhù Ying said: “Leave the autopsy to Coroner’s Assistant Zhang for now. There’s something else here that needs doing—those songs you were asked about before: have you finished putting them to music?”

Xiao Jiang’s face lit up: “Oh! The literacy steles! Are they carved already? So fast?!”

Zhù Ying said: “Have you really finished setting them to music?”

“Yes! You never gave the word, so I kept it to myself and didn’t tell anyone. Can I share it now?”

As long as there was something for her to do, Xiao Jiang didn’t much care whether it was autopsies or something else. Whatever was needed, she was happy to do it—and if she didn’t know how, she’d happily learn on the spot.

Zhù Ying said: “The stonemason father and son have already shaped two steles. In a moment, have Xiao Ya go with you to see which two songs they are, and you can start teaching those two first.”

Xiao Jiang said: “All right! I’ll go right now!”

She walked along unwrapping the apron from her waist and shaking it out. She bunched it into a strip with her left hand, then grabbed the middle with her right, shook it out again so the apron was folded in half, and gave it a sharp snap against whatever invisible dust might be on it. She draped the apron over her forearm and called to the little dark-skinned maid: “Let’s go—we’re going to look at the steles.”

Xiao Wu watched her go, stuck out his tongue, and made an expression of being thoroughly impressed.

Cao Chang nudged him with the tip of his shoe and asked: “What are you doing?”

Xiao Wu said in a low voice: “Hey, you know, looking at her just now—she reminded me a little bit of our mistress at home, didn’t she?” The gesture had been—he had to admit—a bit brash. But Xiao Wu didn’t dare apply that particular word to Zhang Xiangu’s face.

Cao Chang said: “You’re seeing things. Our mistress is quite spry.”

Zhù Ying coughed once, and the two of them immediately stopped discussing.

The room fell quiet. Zhù Ying pulled out the notes she had recorded on various northern crop varieties and flipped to that map. She thought: spring planting’s done—time to plant some fruit trees. She could vaguely remember them saying fruit trees were best planted or transplanted in spring or winter, which meant she was already a little late. She needed to move quickly.

Aunt Du called from the back: “Come eat!”

Half the day had slipped by just like that.

——

After eating, Zhù Ying sent someone to fetch one or two of the old farmers from the surrounding area who had been consulted before spring planting, to ask about planting fruit trees.

An old farmer said: “A bit late in the season now, but it’s not too serious. Fruit trees don’t bear fruit the moment you plant them. As long as they don’t die this year, and you keep the fertilizer coming, they won’t be too late to bear fruit in a couple of years.”

Zhù Ying was relieved. She went out with him to plant orange trees—first digging holes, then drawing water, and so on—working until the sun sank before returning to the town. The two old farmers, as before, stayed in the same lodgings as the last visit. Zhù Ying didn’t arrange new bedding—she had already given them some on the first visit—but she could have someone send word to their families to bring their bedding from home.

The meals were the same as last time: meat and vegetables, with enough grain to fill the stomach.

After supper, the old farmers went to bed. Zhù Ying sat reading by lamplight. She had barely gotten through two pages when Hou Wu came running in: “Your Excellency! Gao Shan is back!”

His face wore a strange expression: “Like something was chasing them!”

“They’re back?”

Hou Wu once again could not contain himself: “Right, isn’t that strange? Xieyu Village is thirty li from the county town. Not far at all. Gao Shan has a mule to ride, but the other two runners had to go on foot. The speed depends on those two pairs of walking legs. Sixty li there and back—even if they didn’t investigate at all, they couldn’t be back until tomorrow. How are they here now? Were they really chased by a ghost?”

Xiao Wu took a long, slow breath and said: “Hou old uncle, the people themselves are back, aren’t they? You go inside and report to the magistrate while I go bring them in to give her a full account—then we’ll know what happened, won’t we?”

That he was the only useful one among the household’s men—Xiao Wu suddenly felt the weight of his responsibilities was quite heavy.

Xiao Wu went ahead and found Gao Shan and Coroner’s Assistant Zhang sitting drinking tea, along with the two runners. As the top runner among his peers, those two stood up and greeted him: “Squad Leader Wu.”

Xiao Wu smiled and nodded, then greeted Gao Shan, and asked: “You’ve had a long journey—have you eaten? Tonight there’s excellent braised pork…”

“Urgh—!” Gao Shan stopped drinking his tea entirely and started dry-heaving. The two runners also said: “Please, don’t mention it! Who can eat anything?”

Xiao Wu asked: “What happened? The magistrate is waiting, but she wouldn’t want you to go hungry. Our magistrate always takes care of her people.”

Gao Shan stood up and said: “We can’t eat. Let’s just go report to the magistrate.”

Coroner’s Assistant Zhang also stood: “I’m coming too.”

All four went together. Hou Wu was in the middle of saying: “The face on Coroner’s Assistant Zhang—white as a sheet. He’s seen dead bodies his whole life—how can he be such a coward…”

Zhù Ying coughed once. Hou Wu said: “Are you all right? Should I ask Madam Zhū to prepare something for your throat…”

Xiao Wu jumped in: “Your Excellency, they’re here!”

Hou Wu leaned sideways, slid sideways, and slipped into the shadow behind a row of bookshelves to hide.

The four men entered. Acting as though there was no one named Hou Wu present, Zhù Ying said: “No need for formalities. Why didn’t you stay the night over there and come back tomorrow?”

Gao Shan said with an unpleasant expression: “After seeing that kind of body—we really couldn’t stay. Ask Old Zhang.”

Coroner’s Assistant Zhang said: “Your Excellency, this humble man has been doing this work for twenty years, inherited from my late father. I have never in my life seen a body like this! The man who reported the case did not exaggerate!”

Gao Shan said: “At first we all thought he was just someone who’d never seen much of the world. But it turned out we were the ones who hadn’t seen much of the world! The body was hacked nearly to a pulp.”

When they had first left the city, the young man who had reported the case had been trembling and saying repeatedly: “It’s—it’s so vicious!”

Gao Shan had told him: “Someone died, of course it’s vicious. All right—stop shaking. Once we catch the killer, you can hold a proper rite and have a service done. That’ll take care of it.”

The young man had only kept saying: “You don’t know. You don’t know.”

Gao Shan had kept rolling his eyes.

And then when they actually saw the body, he no longer wanted to roll his eyes or show any part of them at all.

Zhù Ying was also startled. She had seen quite a few cases. A body in this condition would be worthy of being flagged for colleagues to examine even at the Court of Judicial Review. She asked: “Did you find a suspect?”

Gao Shan said, somewhat embarrassed: “No. The whole village shares one surname, and there’s no particularly deep hatred. Although he wasn’t a well-liked person, no one could think of an enemy who would hate him enough to do something like that. No one knew—maybe it was the Liao people.”

And there had been no trace of evidence, no murder weapon. So it was just guessing.

Zhù Ying asked: “He had a grudge with the people in the mountains?”

Gao Shan also hesitated: “The villagers were just throwing out guesses. A method this savage—it does seem like the behavior of the uncivilized.”

“And the evidence?”

“Well…”

Gao Shan acknowledged his own incompetence and handed the case back to Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying said: “All right. You’re tired. Go rest. Tomorrow I’ll go see for myself.”

——

That night she told Xiao Wu, Cao Chang, and Hou Wu not to breathe a word, and asked Coroner’s Assistant Zhang and Gao Shan to report to the county office the next morning and travel with her to Xieyu Village.

Xiao Wu asked: “Should we also bring Jiang Niang along? Or just Aunt Du? If Aunt Du goes, the mistress and the old master will know right away—that might not be good.”

Hou Wu said: “Isn’t there already Coroner’s Assistant Zhang?”

Xiao Wu said: “She’d be useful.” The last time he had tried to get Stonemason Pang to open up, even enlisting Hou Wu had come to nothing. Zhù Ying had sent Aunt Du, who got information out of young Pang and the veterinarian’s wife without any trouble. Xiao Wu took this lesson very much to heart. For investigating cases, bringing a woman along was good for drawing out information. The yamen runners and such—village women would either crowd around staring or duck away from them; it wasn’t easy to get people talking. Women were different! Xiao Jiang was also a coroner’s apprentice—bringing her along was entirely justified.

Zhù Ying said: “Good thinking.” Even if she hadn’t brought Xiao Jiang, she would have pulled someone from the female ward to come along—also for the purpose of questioning people. If she didn’t go undercover herself as a peddler or fortune-teller to gather information firsthand, the best option was to bring people who didn’t look too much like official yamen staff to do it. Women were best, because no one assumed a woman could be a clerk or official.

Work in an official capacity long enough, and people tended to develop a quality that set them apart from everyone else. Hard to define as good or bad, but it was easily spotted.

Xiao Wu thought: I’ve learned a new trick!

He quickly went and notified Xiao Jiang.

Xiao Jiang didn’t believe it when she heard: “Really?”

Xiao Wu said: “Of course! Would I dare joke with you? Besides—even if I weren’t afraid of you, would I dare court the magistrate’s wrath if she found out?”

Xiao Jiang said: “Hmph! You have plenty of your own tricks.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, though? The magistrate has enough people around her who are missing some, shall we say, cognitive agility.”

The two of them bickered briefly, and Xiao Wu left. Xiao Jiang immediately turned to the small dark-skinned maid and said: “We need to borrow a donkey from neighbor Master Hu over there—quickly!”

She had had her own cart and animals when she left the capital, but once she settled in Fulu County, keeping animals wasn’t worth the cost, so she had sold the lot. Going to Xieyu now—she could walk it if she had to, but she suspected her own legs would hold the whole group back.

She borrowed a donkey overnight. When they were ready to set out the next morning, she planned to ride it.

Zhù Ying, always thorough, had already prepared mounts for both of the women. Seeing they had come prepared, she gave one of the animals she had arranged to the small dark-skinned maid and the other to Coroner’s Assistant Zhang. Gao Shan had his own mount.

When word spread that she was going to investigate the murder, some curious people in the county town also wanted to tag along. Spring planting was over, and the next round of work hadn’t started yet—it was a rare stretch of leisure. Xieyu was not far; so Deputy Magistrate Guan wanted to come, Registrar Mo wanted to keep her company, the coroner’s assistants wanted to come “broaden their experience and learn a few things.”

There were also Elder Zhang and others—the orange business was something they all wanted to be part of. Since Zhù Ying had been delayed by the murder case, some of them thought it would be useful to hover near her. The more familiar they were in her eyes, the more likely they were to get a little more out of the deal. Some also just genuinely wanted to see if she had real ability. Small cases didn’t count—solving a murder was real skill.

Before long, eight gentry had gathered, each bringing at least one servant to attend them.

Zhù Ying said: “Just here to watch? Nothing better to do?”

Elder Zhang laughed: “Curiosity, pure curiosity. We’ll only observe! The county hasn’t had a county magistrate personally investigate a murder in a long time.”

The former Magistrate Wang had a pet phrase when speaking to his subordinates: “I don’t know—don’t ask me—handle it yourself.” And when something went wrong: “You were the one who handled this.”

Elder Zhang wanted to see how Zhù Ying dealt with a murder.

Zhù Ying didn’t refuse any further.

——

Zhù Ying knew the road to Xieyu—she had visited Xieyu the previous year. Gao Shan still enthusiastically offered to lead the way. Zhù Ying rode on horseback, and inwardly she was puzzled: the last time I saw Xieyu, it seemed like a perfectly ordinary village.

Zhù Ying’s understanding of an “ordinary village” was different from most people’s. She never painted over reality, and never imagined that a small mountain hamlet was populated entirely by devoted parents, harmonious siblings, the widowed and childless all cared for. In an ordinary village, there would be good people and bad people—people quarreling with neighbors, people complaining about a parent’s favoritism, people exchanging glances with someone else’s wife…

Love and hatred, feuds and kindnesses—but ordinary people’s passions were generally not extreme. For Xieyu Village to produce something that had put even Coroner’s Assistant Zhang in this state, what on earth had happened there?

The party moved at a reasonable pace—those who couldn’t walk had mounts—and arrived at Xieyu Village before lunch. The village head and others came out to receive them. Zhù Ying asked: “Where did this happen?”

The village head said: “Over that way—the house at the far end.”

Elder Zhang and the others were still pointing things out and commenting that the scenery here was not bad. Zhù Ying was already walking toward the dead man’s house.

Xieyu Village’s whole population shared the surname Chang—though no relation to Widow Chang’s family. The dead man was a twenty-seven-year-old male named Chang Ming. The village head walked alongside explaining: “There’s still an elderly mother at home, and a wife. They were just farming and getting on with life. His father only died two years ago. Ah, here we are.”

The house was clearly not a wealthy person’s dwelling. The courtyard had a cage of chickens. The main building had three rooms; the side rooms had three rooms; there was also a kitchen. The structure was half-new—not a brick-and-tile house, but like many dwellings in the area: the lower half built with stones, the upper half planked wood, topped with a thatched roof. Next to the courtyard were three more dilapidated rooms.

The village head said: “Those were his parents’ old rooms. He built the new ones to take a wife. After his father passed, his mother moved into this new one. The old rooms have had no one in them.” He stood at the gate and called out: “His sister-in-law! The official has come!”

The village head was also surnamed Chang, of a senior generation; his son was the same generation as Chang Ming’s mother. Several women were already inside keeping company with the family. Chang Ming’s mother was supported by someone as she came out—eyes swollen to a slit from crying, nose dripping without stop. She struggled to kneel, saying: “Heaven’s justice, please avenge my son! He was all I had! There is no hope left for me! My son—you died so wrongfully!”

She was crawling in Zhù Ying’s direction as she wailed.

Zhù Ying surveyed the crowded courtyard and said: “Someone help her up quickly. And furthermore—no one move.”

The village head got the villagers to hold still. Zhù Ying said to Elder Zhang and the others: “You also—don’t move! Gao Shan, lead the way. Coroner’s Assistant Zhang, Xiao Jiang—let’s go inside and take a look.”

Gao Shan and Coroner’s Assistant Zhang’s expressions were like people who had just found a fly in a bowl of food—they did not want to go back in there. Zhù Ying said: “What are you standing there for?!”

Chang Ming lived in the main rooms; his mother lived in the side rooms. The mother had come out of the side rooms just now.

Gao Shan lowered his voice: “Your Excellency, take care. Chang Ming is in the east room of the main building…”

Zhù Ying and the others followed him inside. She was careful about where she stepped, and found the ground remarkably clean. In an ordinary household, the ground was packed earth. A smooth and level packed-earth floor suggested a reasonably comfortable home. Laying flagstones or fired tiles was for the prosperous. Carpeting was a mark of the very wealthy.

For families a step below comfortable, the earthen floor was uneven—if it was damp, yesterday’s chicken bones could be trodden into the soil, and getting them out again when sweeping required digging. The Chang family’s floor was earthen, and somewhat damp—it should by rights have shown a great many footprints. But outside the east bedroom, the main room had some faint, scattered prints, and inside the bedroom there were almost none.

There was a long smear on the floor—likely Chang Ming’s—as well as his mother’s, and…

Zhù Ying had not yet looked at the body. She first asked: “He has a wife, you said. Where is she?”

Chang Ming’s mother let out a startled cry: “Where is she?!”

Zhù Ying said: “Go find her.”

Then she brought Coroner’s Assistant Zhang and Xiao Jiang toward the bed. A wave of difficult smell filled their nostrils.

It was a wooden bed, carved with the character for “happiness” and lacquered red—one could guess its purpose. The rush mat and the thin summer quilt covering the body had been dyed the color of dark dried blood. Gao Shan said he had found no traces and no evidence—but there were, in fact, faint spots of blood on the floor. It was hard to say how he had missed them.

Zhù Ying stepped forward and lifted the quilt. A body appeared. She now understood why the bedroom murder scene had been so well-preserved—the body was contorted into a grotesque position, as though a brittle turnip had been snapped into several pieces without being fully broken apart. The upper body had been hacked into ruin. The right arm, both hands, and wrists bore wound marks. The neck resembled the work of a clumsy kitchen apprentice who could never quite chop off a chicken’s head in one stroke—no matter how many blows.

The head was twisted at an angle; the back of the skull also bore multiple blade cuts. The torso faced upward and had been hacked many times as well. The longest gash had split open the belly, and the intestines had spilled out.

The lower body was nearly intact. What was not intact were the ankles—hacked down to the bone on both sides.

A body like this, though it inspired dread—making people afraid to enter the room and reluctant to prepare it for burial—had left few footprints on the floor. Beyond those of people from the county office, there were only those of the village head, Chang Ming’s mother, Chang Ming himself, and one set of prints that should belong to a woman.

The one who discovered the murder was Chang Ming’s mother. Her cries had brought the village head, who then sent someone to report the case.

Gao Shan’s eyes rolled skyward again. Xiao Jiang swallowed half a cry of alarm and, without thinking, clutched the small dark-skinned maid and ducked behind Zhù Ying. Coroner’s Assistant Zhang took three steps backward involuntarily: “Your Excellency, this is how it is. Urgh…”

Zhù Ying turned the body over and found a long gash on the upper left back.

“Urgh—BLEH!” Elder Zhang and the others had been waiting for some time while Zhù Ying was inside. Hearing the villagers describe things as “vicious,” they still hadn’t quite believed it. How bad could it be?

They didn’t dare force their way in, but they pushed open a crack in the window and stuck their heads through to look. One look—and their stomachs began to heave. They ran to the base of the wall and started retching.

Zhù Ying’s expression remained unchanged. She came out and stood at the doorway and asked: “Chang Ming’s wife—has she been found?”

Those outside said: “Not yet.”

The village head grumbled: “How do you run a household and not know where your own daughter-in-law has gone?”

“Three blows and you can’t get a peep out of her—how would I know? Useless thing. Got herself a husband and couldn’t even hold onto him.”

Zhù Ying said to Xiao Jiang: “You two go out first. Ask around about this family’s conduct—especially about Chang Ming’s wife.”

Xiao Jiang took out a small bottle, opened it, took a sniff, and her color improved slightly: “Understood—I’ll go right now.”

Coroner’s Assistant Zhang had a small issue with Xiao Jiang. A young woman—shouldn’t she be getting herself a good match and marrying properly? Why work as a coroner’s apprentice? He found it a little hard to watch, and even began to wonder whether Xiao Jiang had some ulterior motive, or simply wasn’t quite right in the head. Wanting to get close to the magistrate—why on earth would you go and study corpse examination? But that body just now…

He couldn’t help saying: “Your Excellency—she’s just had a fright seeing that body for the first time. Let her rest a little—don’t assign her more tasks. What kind of work is this for a woman?”

Xiao Jiang said: “I can manage.”

She and the little dark-skinned maid went out, first pretending to be shaken and asking a young village wife for a drink of water. The woman looked kind-faced and said: “My house isn’t far—come along.”

Xiao Jiang drank and chatted with her, saying: “It’s so terrifying!”

“It really is!”

“What kind of grudge, what kind of hatred could lead to something like this?”

“It really is!”

“My master, Coroner’s Assistant Zhang, has been doing this work for years and even he was frightened.” Xiao Jiang also revealed her own identity, which piqued the young wife’s curiosity. The woman asked: “You’re also a coroner’s assistant?”

Xiao Jiang said with a little pride: “Still learning! If there’s a female body, it’s not proper for a man to examine it, so that’s when they need me. This one’s a man, so they don’t need me yet.”

“I see!” The young wife’s resistance softened several degrees.

Xiao Jiang said: “Still, I glanced at the victim—looked young. I wonder what will become of his wife now. Widows always attract trouble…”

“Hmm… that might not necessarily apply here.”

The two of them gradually fell into conversation. Xiao Jiang kept nodding, thinking inwardly: so this man was no good—beating his wife every day!

Where in the world did men not beat their wives? But those who beat them to the point where the whole village found it excessive were fewer. According to the young wife, the man’s wife was truly a good woman—honest and hardworking, did everything asked of her, never talked back. At first, Chang Ming had only beaten her casually and without a fuss—a casual slap, a kick in passing. This wife would take a beating and weep silently, never complaining. At first, none of the village wives knew. It was during some playful gathering that they noticed something was off—they rolled up her sleeve and were all shocked.

Once discovered, Chang Ming felt embarrassed, and after that beat her without any restraint at all. She had come into the household at fifteen and been beaten until she was twenty-five. Initially the mother-in-law had been sympathetic and tried a few times to stop it, but couldn’t—and since the daughter-in-law never said a word of complaint, the mother-in-law eventually started pinching her herself.

Xiao Jiang cursed: “What a wretched pair, mother and son!”

“It really is—and she was bought into the household with bridewealth too! How can you treat someone like that?”

“Didn’t her family do anything?”

“Her family took the bridewealth. When she ran back home she was sent back.”

The two of them chattered on for a while, and Xiao Jiang thought: best if this little wife has run away!

But she also worried: given how brutally Chang Ming had died, if the killer was ruthless and violent—could he have already killed Chang Ming’s wife as well? Or abducted her?

She stood up and said: “Thank you—I need to go back and take my orders now.” She pressed a few coins into the young wife’s hand as thanks. The young wife said: “How can I accept this?” She made the customary three-finger pull and two-finger push gesture. Xiao Jiang pressed the coins into her palm and said: “It’s not much—buy yourself a flower or some powder. You don’t have to ask your husband for it.”

Then she went back to the Chang family. Chang Ming’s mother was rolling all over the ground: “You absolutely cannot do this! My son, my son, how wrongly you’ve died!”

Coroner’s Assistant Zhang said: “I don’t want to look at such an inauspicious body either! The fact that the magistrate is willing to bring the body back to examine means she’s investigating the case for you. You—was it you who killed him? If you keep obstructing us, no arrest, no hearing. Was it you who did it?”

Gao Shan and the others all nodded—not because they thought Coroner’s Assistant Zhang’s words were particularly logical, but because they had always handled uncooperative people this way. If you wanted results but wouldn’t let anyone investigate, there had to be something fishy. And whoever objected most loudly could be pinned as a suspect. Arrest them, beat them until they confessed to being the killer, and the case was closed.

Zhù Ying said: “Has Chang Ming’s wife been found yet?”

Xiao Jiang stepped forward: “They say no one has seen her yesterday or today, and no one knows where she’s gone. Your Excellency, do you think the killer might have also harmed her?”

Zhù Ying again asked Chang Ming’s mother: “Has anything gone missing from the household?”

Startled out of her rolling and wailing by Coroner’s Assistant Zhang, she sat on the ground and said: “No. I haven’t had the heart to check. The money is in my room—nothing missing.”

Not for money, then—it must be a grudge.

Zhù Ying was a little uneasy. By her experience: when a woman died, she would first suspect the husband. When a man died, beyond the wife there were many more possible suspects. Women, confined to the inner household and encountering fewer people, were usually killed by someone close. Men were not necessarily the same—they could make enemies anywhere outside. And the difference in status between husband and wife meant the consequences of acting against each were different.

Furthermore, if the killer was a woman, a significant number would opt for a subtler method—poison, for instance. The example being Lady Bi Qing. Direct confrontation was rarer.

Given the state of Chang Ming’s body, by ordinary reasoning this should be the work of an outside violent criminal. Zhù Ying also didn’t believe the Liao people had done this—though their reputation in Fulu County was not exactly good, they still retained some “ancient customs.” Their ritual killings were performed with great ceremony—the body brought back, dances held, offerings made at the altar. Their killings were conducted with great deliberateness.

An enemy?

Zhù Ying lowered her head and looked at the footprints in the bedroom floor. Only the few sets there. However reluctant she was to admit it, she had to acknowledge a rather unlikely truth—perhaps it really had been Chang Ming’s wife who did this. Unless Chang Ming’s enemy was some kind of supernatural being who came and went without leaving a trace.

An experienced thief would eliminate traces, but could not possibly remove only their own prints while leaving everyone else’s completely undisturbed. If the scene had been cleaned, the floor should only show prints from those who entered after Chang Ming’s mother discovered the body. But both Chang Ming’s and his wife’s prints were still there.

Which left either: the widowed mother had killed her own grown son—or: a wife had killed her husband. Weighing the two, the wife as killer seemed far more probable.

Xiao Jiang said softly: “This man beat his wife—his wife was so pitiful…” And she slowly told Zhù Ying everything she had gathered.

Zhù Ying thought: that fits. She asked her: “Do you dare look at the body one more time?”

“I do!” Xiao Jiang said, her voice wavering slightly.

Zhù Ying took the thin quilt and covered the body’s upper half—head, face, and torso—and let her first look at the feet, then the hands, and asked: “What can you see?”

Coroner’s Assistant Zhang also leaned in, avoiding the most gruesome areas, and looked at only the hands and feet: “The murder weapon wasn’t particularly sharp…”

Hou Wu also leaned in and said: “The strength isn’t great.”

Zhù Ying asked: “How do you mean?”

Hou Wu said: “Well, regardless of whether the weapon is sharp or not, there’s a difference between striking with great force and striking weakly. Even a slightly dull weapon, if wielded with sufficient power and speed, can kill with a single blow. But this—” he gestured, “—the force just wasn’t enough.” Hou Wu had spent twenty years in the business of fighting for his life, and he had this much judgment.

Xiao Jiang, listening as they spoke, was also trying to think clearly, but her thoughts were a little scattered. She said to Zhù Ying: “Your Excellency, I want to go and ask around some more.”

Zhù Ying said: “Go ask where Chang Ming’s wife might go, besides her own home.”

Everyone around was astonished. Xiao Jiang was especially astonished: “Your Excellency—you suspect her?”

Zhù Ying said: “Let’s find the person first. Right now, everyone who was close to Chang Ming in life is present here—she’s the only one unaccounted for. At minimum, she’s a suspect. Find her.”

She saw that the set of women’s shoe prints walked out of the room. First she searched the room, found a pair of women’s shoes, and compared them to the prints on the floor—the size matched perfectly. The stitching on the shoe soles was also very similar.

She came out of the room and asked everyone to stand exactly where they were and not move so much as a step. Then she pulled a stick of firewood and, holding it, walked around the front and back of the house, drawing circles on the ground here and there to mark footprints. Following the trail, she pushed open the door of a ramshackle building—Chang Ming’s family’s old rooms.

She walked slowly inside, one foot nudging the door open. There, on a pile of dry grass, lay a thin, huddled figure. On the edge of the grass lay a chopping blade, its surface dark with dried blood.

Zhù Ying raised her voice toward the house next door: “You can all stop standing still now—come over! Xiao Wu, Hou Wu, Tong Bo—you, and Xiao Jiang and Xiao Ya—all of you come!”