Liang Feng possessed an extraordinarily strong will. Before Dalang officially assumed the position of Lin Town’s magistrate, Shi Liaoliang framed him with moldy rice. At the time, several men were captured, and Tan Liu used a sedative given by Lin Fang to force their confessions. However, when the same method was secretly tried on Liang Feng this time, it proved utterly ineffective. Now, they had no choice but to resort to conventional interrogation tactics. In truth, Li Cuimei was desperate to crack open Liang Feng’s mind to find out where her daughter had been hidden.
At present, all the men in the family were out searching for the missing girl. Even the elderly uncle and aunt had mobilized their old connections to scour the area. As a woman, Li Cuimei felt powerless at this critical moment. She entrusted all household affairs to Rusu and moved into the county magistrate’s residence to “accompany” the magistrate’s wife wholeheartedly.
While it couldn’t be confirmed whether Liang Feng was involved in harming Lin Fang, as the organizer of the poetry gathering, she couldn’t escape suspicion. No matter how resentful she might be, without her husband’s protection and her natal family far away in Jiangnan, she was left entirely at others’ mercy.
After finishing her tea and resting briefly, Liang Feng continued: “When the servants reported that the banquet was ready and invited everyone to the feast, I personally went to the guest quarters to fetch the Sixth Young Miss. Young Master Shi escorted me to the door of the guest room.”
Liang Feng spoke with an air of pride, which made Li Cuimei sigh inwardly—another young wife blinded by charm. At the same time, she grew wary. After Lin Fang’s disappearance, Tan Liu had revealed Lin Fang’s hidden guards, who mentioned Shi Binhua accompanying Liang Feng to the guest room door. Yet Liang Feng had never mentioned this before. Her sudden revelation today must have a purpose. Suppressing her emotions, Li Cuimei maintained a calm expression.
“Ah, I married Guo Mian at fifteen. Only on the second day of our marriage, when serving tea to my mother-in-law, did he walk with me from our bridal chamber to her quarters—him in front, me behind. After that, he never accompanied me even a single step. For daily morning and evening greetings to my mother-in-law, he would wait at her door while I had to walk alone to meet him before we entered together.”
It seemed the rumors about the magistrate and his wife being married in name only were true. Li Cuimei remained composed, waiting for Liang Feng to continue.
In the study of the capital’s General’s residence, Lin Wen spoke urgently to the man across from him: “Well? Any news?”
The man replied, “Reporting, Military Advisor. Today’s update is that there’s still no trace of the Sixth Young Miss. The General is still leading the search.”
Lin Wen waved his hand. “Leave. Report immediately if there’s any news.”
“Yes.” The man quickly withdrew.
Once alone, Lin Wen—usually the picture of composure—paced anxiously, muttering to himself, “Sister, where are you? What happened to you?” For what felt like the hundredth time, he cursed Qi Biao for dumping this mess on him while he was stuck here, unable to join the search himself.
Eight days earlier, news arrived from Qi Manor that Lin Fang had attended a poetry gathering and hadn’t returned that evening. Their parents assumed she had stayed overnight at the family’s restaurant in town or decided to linger for a few days—something she’d done before. Lin Fang loved food and would always sample local snacks during outings. If there was a bookstore, she’d linger there too, skimming through books and only purchasing those she truly loved to savor at home. Though she memorized most of what she read, the family often teased her for being stingy—why not just buy the books instead of “stealing” their contents?
However, Lin Fang had a good habit: if delayed, she’d always send word to her parents to avoid worrying them. Yet by the evening after the poetry gathering, no message had arrived. Sensing something amiss, her father and Wu’er rode overnight to town. The restaurant staff said she hadn’t visited, and the coachman who’d taken her to the magistrate’s residence reported that she’d instructed him to wait at the restaurant, promising to summon him when the gathering ended. But no one had called for him.
Panicked, her father and Wu’er rushed to the magistrate’s residence in the dead of night, barging in to confront the magistrate’s wife, who insisted Lin Fang had left that afternoon—albeit later than others due to resting in the guest room after feeling unwell.
Tan Liu summoned Lin Fang’s hidden guard, who claimed she’d entered the guest room after the banquet and never emerged. Assuming she was resting—as she often slept for long stretches, especially in winter—he hadn’t found it suspicious. The magistrate’s wife, however, stubbornly denied this. Wu’er searched the guest room but found no trace of Lin Fang.
Enraged, Wu’er turned the magistrate’s residence upside down, sparing only the magistrate’s mother’s room at Guo Mian’s pleading. Even after searching it later, they found nothing. Lin Fang had vanished.
When the news reached Lin Wen and Qi Biao, Lin Wen had been ready to rush home to search, but Qi Biao beat him to it, shouting, “You stay and handle things here. I’ll find Fang’er!” before vanishing. Lin Wen cursed his own lack of martial skill—had he trained, he wouldn’t be stuck here, useless with worry.
As Lin Wen fretted, Li Ziyi strode in. “Wen’er, any news about Fang’er?”
First Li Yinwei had disappeared, now Lin Fang. As uncle to one and great-uncle to the other, Li Ziyi wondered if someone was targeting him by taking his nieces. Yet he’d lived cautiously—aside from battlefield enemies, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d wronged.
Perhaps it was political. Aligned with the Prince’s faction, he had opponents who might strike at him through his family. But why target distant relatives when his own daughters were right in the capital? It made no sense.
Years of searching for Li Yinwei had yielded nothing, and now Lin Fang was gone. Alarmed, Li Ziyi came to consult Lin Wen.
“Wen’er, could Marquis Zhenwu be behind this? Knowing Fang’er matters most to you and the General, he might have taken her to distract you both, buying time for his rebellion.”
“Possible. But his forces are in Duoling County. Kidnapping Fang’er would draw our attention there—counterproductive, no?”
“True.”
Concern clouded their judgment. After hours of fruitless discussion, they resolved to increase surveillance on Marquis Zhenwu, hoping to uncover clues.
Meanwhile, in a farmhouse courtyard, an exhausted Lin Fang returned. Granny Liu limped out, taking her coarse cloth bag. “Sixth Young Miss, any luck today?”
Lin Fang shook her head. “Same as before. No matter which way I go, I end up back here. Even avoiding marked paths changes nothing. And no matter where I am, as long as there’s no obstruction, I can always see this house. It’s like we’re trapped in an endless loop around it.”
Granny Liu sighed. “Could it be ghosts? How can this happen in broad daylight?”
“Feels like it. Whether man-made or natural, this trench is a maze. We won’t escape soon.” Unfazed, Lin Fang smiled. “But I found pine trees with cones! I brought a few, but the bag’s too small. I’ll fetch a basket and collect more. We’ll roast pine nuts tonight—I’ve missed their flavor!”
“Ah, it’s my fault you must forage. This old servant is worthless,” Granny Liu wept.
“Please don’t cry! What if I find the exit, but your eyes are ruined? Not worth it.” Lin Fang reached to wipe her tears but hesitated—her hands, now rough and cracked, would only scratch.
In the kitchen, Lin Fang warmed herself by the fire while Granny Liu ladled hot chicken soup. “Drink this first, Sixth Young Miss. The meat’s still tough—wait a bit before eating.”
Lin Fang frowned. “Granny, you killed another chicken? What if the owners return?”
“One or ten, what’s the difference? We’ve started—might as well eat our fill.”
Sighing, Lin Fang relented but scolded, “At least wait for me! These chickens are like pheasants—fast and flying into trees. With your leg injured, what if you worsen it?”
Granny Liu chuckled. “Too late for that now. The soup’s cooked, and I’m fine.” She wiggled her foot.
Resigned, Lin Fang repeated, “Just gather firewood if you’re restless. Leave the rest till I’m back.”
Granny Liu nodded absently. “Yes, yes. Drink your soup before it cools.”
Knowing she’d be ignored, Lin Fang sipped the soup, warmth spreading through her body.
After finishing and warming up, she fetched a basket and sickle. “The pine grove’s close. I’ll return soon,” she told Granny Liu before hurrying out.
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