“Uncle Qi, any news? Have you found anything?”
“Sixth Miss, this old servant came to inform you that there isn’t news—rather, the trail has gone cold. There’s nothing left to investigate.”
After Lin Fang’s poisoning was cured, the small meditation courtyard she stayed in at Zixing Temple was reserved exclusively for her and never occupied by anyone else. She would visit for a few days each month—partly to find peace of mind, and partly to handle matters inconvenient to address within the household. At this moment, Steward Qi was reporting to her on the progress of finding the original owner of the pearl. Apart from her and Lin Wu, no one else in the family knew about this matter.
“Uncle Qi, didn’t you say last time that the investigation was going smoothly? How did the trail suddenly go cold?”
“Yes, Sixth Miss. It was indeed going smoothly, but when we reached the county office, the original staff had all dispersed—some dead, some fled. We went to great lengths to find a few survivors, but none of them knew anything about the pearl. Now, there isn’t a single person left who knows about the events of that year. The trail ends here.”
“Did you ask Uncle Liuzhi? He was the head constable at the county office back then. And what about the other constables who followed him from the county office? Do they know anything about what happened?”
Liuzhi was a child Lin Zhongsi had picked up while on duty. He grew up among the ranks under Lin Zhongsi’s command, trained in martial arts under the influence of the guards. Later, when Lin Zhongsi was transferred to another post, Liuzhi fell ill and couldn’t follow. After recovering, Liuzhi searched everywhere for him, but Lin Zhongsi was on a secret mission and couldn’t acknowledge him. From then on, the two lost contact. It wasn’t until Lin Dalang became the magistrate of Lin Town that Liuzhi, escorting a grain shipment back to the town, reunited with Lin Zhongsi. Liuzhi formally acknowledged Lin Zhongsi and Lady Tong as his adoptive parents and now served as the head constable of Lin Town’s office.
“I did ask. They all said the county office was in chaos back then, with frequent personnel changes, and they didn’t know anything either.”
“Sigh, this makes things difficult.” The black pearl, which Lin Fang had concluded belonged to Li Yinwei, was kept in a finely woven net bag made of high-quality red silk thread, tied at both ends with red cords embedded with tiny crystals. She wore it as a pendant around her neck. As she spoke, Lin Fang unconsciously raised her hand, pressing against the pearl beneath her cloak.
This small gesture didn’t escape Steward Qi’s sharp eyes. He found it amusing—though the Sixth Miss was more intelligent than most girls her age, she was still young at heart, reacting like a child when faced with difficulties.
Being wise with age, Steward Qi showed no expression on his face and continued, “According to Liuzhi, when the court allowed refugees to purchase wasteland at low prices, many refugees used items as collateral. However, the county magistrate at the time, Lin, was lax in governance. The county office staff often took items without recording them, altered the ledgers, or deliberately damaged or lost them. Some even outright seized refugees’ belongings and drove them out of the office or found excuses to beat them to death. Given the chaos of the time, the deaths of refugees went unnoticed and unpunished.”
Though Lin Fang had anticipated such corruption during the flood, hearing it from Steward Qi still sent a chill down her spine, deepening her concern for Li Yinwei. “Then my fifth cousin must have been in danger. She was just a little girl back then.”
Steward Qi also found Lin Fang’s reasoning sound, but he tried to comfort her. “We haven’t reached the end yet. It’s too early to say what happened to Fifth Cousin. For all we know, she might be living happily somewhere else while we worry here.”
Lin Fang nodded. She knew full well that Steward Qi was trying to console her.
Ever since Lin Wu obtained the clue about the pearl from the Jiangnan merchant, Steward Qi had directed the Qi Manor’s men to follow the trail, investigating step by step. They had traveled across most of the provinces within the empire, only to circle back to Duoling County. The pearl had originally been distributed from the county office as part of the court’s relief efforts for flood victims. Four years had passed since then, and those involved were either dead or missing, leaving no one to question.
Steward Qi secretly bribed the county office’s archivist to comb through all the ledgers and records, only to find that most of the post-flood documents were missing. Not only was there no record of the pearl Lin Fang had shown him, but in fact, very few of the items collected by the county office had been recorded at all—only the least valuable ones. The trail of the pearl ended here, with no way to proceed.
In the capital, at the residence of General Qi Biao, four men sat cross-legged around a square table in his study. There were no servants present, not even one to serve tea.
Qi Biao, seated at the head of the table, would have looked quite elegant with his fluid tea-pouring motions—if not for his perpetually stoic expression and dark complexion.
To Qi Biao’s left sat Lin Wen, engrossed in a book of chess strategies, silent and never looking up.
To his right, Lin Meng deftly repaired the braided tip of his soft whip, occasionally looking up to say a word or two before returning to his task.
Opposite Qi Biao sat his childhood attendant, whose appearance hadn’t changed at all in ten years.
The youthful-looking attendant was chattering away: “Shi Binhua received word that the Marquis of Zhenwu’s ninth adopted son was nearing Duoling County, so he went ahead to wait at the relay station. But no matter how long he waited, the man never arrived. At nightfall, Shi Binhua returned to his own residence, planning to try again the next day. But when he returned to the station the following morning, he found it heavily guarded by constables. Upon inquiry, he learned there had been a murder the night before. The constables led him to the bodies and asked if he recognized the two men. Shi Binhua was so terrified he fainted on the spot.”
After finishing brewing the tea, Qi Biao handed a cup to the youthful attendant, who sipped it slowly before continuing. “Both victims were male, completely naked, one lying atop the other, their bodies intimately connected, with the one behind tightly embracing the one in front. The coroner couldn’t separate them. Upon examination, it was determined they had died from excessive intercourse, exhausting themselves to death. And as it turned out, Shi Binhua happened to know them—the one in front was the Marquis of Zhenwu’s ninth adopted son, and the one behind was Shi Binhua’s personal bodyguard.”
Lin Wen accepted the tea from Qi Biao with one hand, savoring it slowly, while the other still held the chess manual. His eyes never left the book, as if everything around him was irrelevant—his mind wholly absorbed in reading.
“Gulp.” Lin Meng downed the tea in one go and returned to fiddling with his whip. Hearing the attendant finish his tale, he chuckled. “The Marquis of Zhenwu must be furious now. Hopefully, he’ll lose his composure—save us a lot of trouble.”
“He’ll certainly be furious,” Lin Wen said, eyes still on his book, “but not as you imagine. The Marquis rose from a humble fodder officer to his current noble rank. A minor incident like this won’t shake him. However, Shi Binhua won’t be transferred from Duoling County anytime soon.”
Qi Biao spoke up. “Uncle Qi has worked the hardest in this matter. Once it’s settled, I’ll keep my promise. Uncle Qi may choose a suitable place to retire and live out his days in peace.”
“No need to search far,” the youthful attendant interjected. “If the general permits, I’d like to return to Qi Manor after this. Lin Town is a fine place to retire. On ordinary days, I can chat with Elder Brother and Scholar Shen. If I crave excitement, the town offers all kinds of bustling activities no worse than anywhere else. If I seek peace, I can go up the mountain to the temple, listen to sutras, or meditate alone.”
Qi Biao nodded. “Very well. It shall be as you wish. Steward Qi has a wife and children. Scholar Shen married late in life. But you, Uncle Qi, remain alone. Have you no thoughts on the matter?”
The youthful attendant laughed. “With this face of mine, what thoughts could I have? Even if I married, people would mistake me for my wife’s son when we walked together. No need for that. I’ll live out my days alone—freer that way.”
At some point, Lin Wen had moved to another table, intently studying a chessboard, while Lin Meng had left for the training grounds to test his newly repaired whip.
After the attendant finished speaking, Qi Biao stood and bowed deeply, solemnly saying, “If not for testing medicine for me, Uncle Qi, you wouldn’t have ended up like this. Yi’er will never fail you in this lifetime.”
Qi Biao was the legitimate son of a prince and the empire’s general. Even a simple bow from him was more than most could bear. Yet the youthful attendant accepted it calmly before kneeling in return. “This old servant will never fail the princess’s trust.”
After the attendant left, Qi Biao and Lin Wen meticulously reviewed their plans, ensuring nothing was overlooked. Only when they were satisfied did they return to their usual routines, each absorbed in his own affairs, the study so quiet it might as well have been empty.
By the time Qi Biao finished writing several confidential letters, Lin Wen had nearly completed his own tasks. Qi Biao asked, “Have you thought about what position you’d like after this matter concludes? Best to plan ahead.”
Lin Wen shook his head. “Once this is over, I want to travel. Fang’er once said, ‘Reading ten thousand books is not as good as walking ten thousand miles.’ If my sister’s health permits, I’ll take her with me. She once said she has two great wishes in life—to travel across the land, and to establish schools for girls everywhere. She wants women to have the same opportunities as men—to read, to gain knowledge, to act according to their own aspirations, to achieve their own accomplishments—not to be confined to a single courtyard, mere appendages to their husbands.”
“When did she say that?” For some reason, Qi Biao felt a pang of loss.
Ignoring the question, Lin Wen remained lost in thought. “As her elder brother, I want to help fulfill her wishes. The latter may be beyond my current means, but I’ll do what I can to help with the former. Fang’er will turn sixteen in a few months. If we delay any longer, she might marry and have children, and her dreams will remain unfulfilled.”
Qi Biao murmured, “Fang’er is almost sixteen?”
As if answering Qi Biao or simply thinking aloud, Lin Wen continued, “Indeed. In other families, a sixteen-year-old girl would already be married with children. But Fang’er shows little interest in marriage. Many suitable suitors have come forward, yet she refuses them all. She says she hasn’t accomplished anything yet and doesn’t want to be tied down too soon. But a woman’s youth won’t wait. Once this matter is settled, I’ll take her traveling—let her see the world before it’s too late.”
Hearing this, Qi Biao recalled the time he had given Lin Fang a copy of *Buddhist Sacred Sites of the Empire* on Lin Wen’s behalf. He had asked her why she wanted such a book, and she had replied, “Partly out of interest, partly for future travels. Better prepared than caught off guard—saves scrambling at the last minute.”
Qi Biao remembered asking her, “Shouldn’t women stay home to manage the household and raise children?”
Lin Fang’s response had been indignant. “Managing the household and raising children isn’t wrong. But if it means being confined to a single courtyard for life, I’d rather not marry at all.” At the time, Qi Biao had felt strangely unsettled, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.
Neither of them could have foreseen that the plan they believed foolproof would, in later years, leave them with lingering dread whenever they recalled it—a dread that would last a lifetime.
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