There was a town named Yingcheng about ten miles southwest of Kaifeng Prefecture. Though merely a small town, Yingcheng had an unexpectedly large population of outsiders.
It gathered not only a large number of merchants hoping to use it as a stepping stone to enter Kaifeng Prefecture, but also many scholars coming from all over the country. Public schools and private academies run by famous scholars in Kaifeng Prefecture, as well as occasional literary gatherings and lectures, were unparalleled elsewhere. Many people abandoned their homes and livelihoods to come here to study.
Unfortunately, not only was it difficult to purchase property in Kaifeng Prefecture, but even long-term rentals were beyond the means of ordinary families. Thus, a large number of scholars settled for renting houses in the nearby towns and commuted daily.
As a result, the population structure of Yingcheng became extremely complex.
It was another ordinary morning in July. As usual, the town center’s several large bulletin boards were crowded with people—scholars in long robes, merchants with the stench of money, and women with headscarves, all standing on tiptoe and craning their necks to see what was posted.
Before long, someone jumped onto the platform and hit a copper gong in his hand hard.
The crowd fell silent immediately, all staring at him with eager eyes, like hungry chicks awaiting food.
The man cleared his throat and shouted, “Several noble households in Kaifeng need a total of eight servants—capable, quick, and smart ones. Also, a carriage company needs to purchase several woolen blankets. Fur merchants, come here and press your fingerprints…”
Before he could finish, many women and vendors in the crowd showed delight on their faces, frantically raising their arms and pushing forward, shouting, “Me! Me! I can do it!”
Meanwhile, the surrounding scholars, seeing again that there was no news about lectures, sighed one after another and left dejectedly.
Since Yingcheng was a distance from Kaifeng Prefecture and not everyone could rush to check for news, over time, a profession of message runners had emerged.
“Excuse me,” a scholar was about to leave when he was stopped by several horsemen, “how do we get to Ganshui Alley?”
The scholar looked up and saw four riders—three men and one woman—mounted on horses, riding toward them in the morning light, looking quite imposing.
Squinting, the scholar moved to a shaded spot and recognized the leading rider wearing official robes. He quickly bowed, “My lord.”
“Rise,” Xie Yu and others had also been watching the crowd earlier and held great respect for these scholars who had traveled far to study.
The scholar said, “Ganshui Alley isn’t far, but the path is a bit winding. Allow me to guide you there.”
Xie Yu thought for a moment and dismounted, “Then we are in your debt.”
Ma Bing and the other three also dismounted.
The path was indeed a bit winding. Along the way, Xie Yu noticed that the scholar was barely in his twenties, his robe worn and faded, yet his demeanor was upright and dignified. He began conversing with him.
The scholar was a “xiucai” (a degree in imperial China), surnamed Zhao. “To be honest, my hometown was very poor. We couldn’t even afford proper schools, let alone find two complete books.”
He pointed to himself. His expression showed neither embarrassment at his poverty nor pride at having left his village. “I am the only xiucai from my village in the past twenty years. It was the village chief who led the effort to raise the guarantee money for me back then…”
Ma Bing listened with deep emotion, “Now the court no longer requires guarantee money.”
Zhao the xiucai nodded with a smile and bowed toward the direction of the imperial palace, “Yes, it’s much better now. Truly, the emperor’s grace is vast and boundless.”
After hearing this, Xie Yu felt a strange pang in his heart.
Two taels of guarantee money meant little to them or to the court, but for many poor scholars, it was an insurmountable obstacle.
Zhao was both unfortunate and fortunate—his entire village had supported him upward.
But in corners unseen, how many others had been tripped up by a single small silver ingot?
Yet Zhao did not feel bitter.
He even felt deeply satisfied just to have made the journey to the capital, enduring hardships along the way.
“My mentor once said he could teach me to become a xiucai, which was already a mercy from heaven. If I wanted to advance further, he doubted he could help. He told me to go to the capital and see how the teachers and students there study and teach,” Zhao said as they walked. “So I came. Just listening to a few lectures in Kaifeng has already benefited me greatly.”
Though living expenses were high here, there were also many ways to earn money. In his spare time, he could copy books, write letters for others, or even tutor children. If he was careful with his money, he could just about manage his daily expenses.
Zhao avoided an oncoming ox cart and pointed to a bridge ahead on the right, “Go straight across that bridge, turn left at the end, and you’ll reach Ganshui Alley.”
Xie Yu thanked him, then suddenly asked, “But in a few years, won’t you have to return home to take the higher exams? Do you have the travel expenses?”
After xiucai came the juren degree, which also required returning to one’s home prefecture to take the exam.
Zhao smiled shyly, “I’ve met a few fellow villagers here. We now rent a small courtyard together. We’ve agreed that if anyone feels ready for the exams, we’ll all chip in to cover their travel expenses and also send letters home.”
After saying this, he bowed to Xie Yu again, “I must take my leave.”
He didn’t look back as he walked away. His thin figure gradually faded into the light and shadows until he disappeared completely.
Xie Yu stood there for a long time, watching the direction Zhao had left.
“Let’s go.”
Following the address provided by the family of Gao Fa, Xie Yu and the others soon arrived at a small courtyard in Ganshui Alley.
Zhuang Peng knocked on the door. A man in his forties answered, with a scruffy beard and somewhat unkempt appearance.
“Who are you looking for?”
Zhuang Peng showed him his badge, “Are you housing a man named Gao Fa?”
The man immediately became more compliant, ushering them in while pointing to the eastern wing, “Yes, that’s the room. But he hasn’t been back in a long time.”
Goodness, government officials—what had this Gao fellow done?
It was an ordinary small courtyard. The only habitable rooms were the main house and the east and west wings. Reportedly, these were rented out to three different groups, all small traders.
The main house was occupied by two brothers. The man who answered the door lived in the west wing with his son, while Gao Fa had lived in the east wing before he disappeared.
Hearing the commotion, someone peeked out from the main house, but upon seeing the official uniforms, quickly ducked back inside.
“The door’s locked,” Huo Ping went to check.
The man said, “Gao Fa locked it when he left, but the real estate agent still has a key. Let me go get it.”
Xie Yu nodded, “Call the person who originally rented the room to Gao Fa. I have some questions for him.”
The man said “Okay” and hurried off.
The waiting was boring, so Ma Bing quietly asked Xie Yu, “I noticed you staring at Zhao the xiucai for quite a while.”
Xie Yu softly hummed in agreement.
He looked up at the wall, where a few strands of foxtail grass stubbornly grew, fluffy and fuzzy under the sunlight, creating a hazy scene.
“There are many renowned scholars and university professors in the capital who are currently idle. The National Academy and other official schools don’t need that many teachers, so they end up lamenting spring or indulging in nature.
I was thinking—perhaps we could invite them to occasionally give lectures in these towns. On one hand, they’d have something meaningful to do. On the other, there are many talented individuals among the common people who simply lack opportunities…
If a connoisseur could recognize a thousand-mile horse, wouldn’t that be a great fortune for everyone?
Autumn sunlight fell into his eyes, like two shining gems, making Ma Bing almost reluctant to look away.
“Lord Xie,” Ma Bing’s tone unconsciously softened, “have I ever told you that you’re truly an excellent official?”
Xie Yu was taken aback and suddenly felt a bit awkward, a faint blush rising to his ears.
Still, he thought carefully for a moment, “I believe you have.”
He paused, then sincerely added, “Though not in exactly those words.”
In other words, you’re welcome to say it again.
Ma Bing chuckled and indeed repeated it.
Then Lord Xie’s face clearly showed signs of pleasure.
Meanwhile, Zhuang Peng and Huo Ping obediently stood like wooden posts in the corner.
About a quarter of an hour later, the real estate agent came and opened Gao Fa’s room. As Zhuang Peng pushed the door, dust fell in a flurry.
He coughed twice from the dust and turned to the agent and the man from the courtyard, “Exactly how long has he been gone?”
The agent said, “I don’t come here often, so I’m not sure. The rent is paid annually. Gao Fa rented it in October four years ago. It hasn’t expired yet this year.”
The man thought for a moment, “I think I saw him last November. We briefly talked about whether to go home for the New Year. After that… well, I haven’t seen him again.”
Because everyone was usually busy and not around all the time, occasional encounters were just nods and casual greetings, not deep friendships.
When Gao Fa disappeared, the others in the courtyard only noticed after a long time had passed. They merely muttered a few words and didn’t think much of it. Later, they gradually stopped caring.
After all, it was just a chance encounter—who really cared about anyone else?
Ma Bing knocked on the main house door, startling the young man inside. After asking a few questions, she received the same answer.
As the dust settled, Xie Yu entered Gao Fa’s room for a closer look.
The room was in disarray, with corners and the kang (a traditional Chinese bed) piled with various odds and ends—common items like needles and thread, bamboo trays, copper basins, and colored ropes.
Thick layers of dust covered the floor and tables, and large spider webs had formed even in the corners.
People often say that spiders in a house are a good omen, indicating something fortunate will happen.
But clearly, that was just superstitious nonsense.
The spider had made a home here, yet the tenant had vanished without a trace, his fate unknown.
Xie Yu lightly ran his finger across a dusty surface, leaving a clear mark.
Judging by the thickness of the dust, no one had lived here for at least half a year. The doors and windows were intact, with no signs of forced entry.
If Gao Fa had neither returned to his hometown nor to his rented room, then where had he gone?
Considering the clues currently in hand, Liu Shan, the innkeeper outside the city, was very likely the last person Gao Fa had seen before his disappearance.
A grown man suddenly vanishing, with the last person he met unable to explain his whereabouts, and whose behavior was suspicious, naturally raised many questions.
When leaving Ganshui Alley, Xie Yu specially instructed the other tenants and the agent to immediately report to Kaifeng Prefecture if Gao Fa ever returned.
This trip had come up empty, but Liu Shan’s suspicion was growing.
“Lord, what do we do next?” Huo Ping asked.
Xie Yu pondered for a moment, “First, let’s return to Kaifeng Prefecture to see Governor Tu.”
Then we’ll issue arrest warrants!
After returning to Kaifeng Prefecture and explaining the case to Governor Tu Yao and Judge Song, both agreed that Liu Shan was a prime suspect. Immediately, they signed the order, instructing Huo Ping to bring Liu Shan, his wife, and all the staff in and out for questioning.
Whether there were results or not, they would give it a try!
Xie Yu stayed behind to discuss his observations in Ying Town with Tu Yao and mentioned his ideas.
Tu Yao was somewhat surprised but gave it serious consideration, “This idea is quite novel and seems feasible. I’ll draft a memorial to the Emperor tomorrow for his consideration.”
Actually, they both guessed that there probably wouldn’t be much resistance to this matter without needing a formal memorial.
It wasn’t about establishing a new academy, nor was it about fixed daily classes. It was simple to implement.
A table, a chair, a mat—nowhere couldn’t be a classroom, and everywhere could be a classroom, as long as those renowned scholars were willing.
The only ones likely to be unhappy would be the aristocratic families.
But now, with many old accounts still unsettled due to Shen Xuan’s case, those people were busy protecting themselves and probably wouldn’t have time to oppose this.
Since Liu Shan’s inn still had many guests staying there, the authorities had to coordinate quite a bit when going to arrest him. It wasn’t until the sun set and the moon rose that the two men, responsible for surveillance, returned covered in dust.
As soon as they entered, they grabbed two cucumbers and started chewing, speaking indistinctly, “We’ve been eating roasted meat in the grass for several meals straight. Now the smell makes us nauseous…”
Normally, they craved meat, but after being forced to eat several pounds at once, they now found the fresh green vegetables incredibly appealing.
Everyone tried to suppress their laughter, watching helplessly as the two devoured the entire small basket of more than ten cucumbers in one go before finally sighing in relief, “Ah, that’s better!”
Ma Bing laughed, “See? You get used to good food too much. For commoners, there are many days in a year when they don’t even get to taste meat. Let them eat roasted meat for a day or two, and they’d be happy for a month or two!”
The two immediately begged for mercy, then turned to the main topic.
“That Liu Shan fellow probably does have some issues. Last night we didn’t sleep at all, and we saw that the lamp in his room with his wife stayed on all night,” Ade recalled the fresh taste of the cucumber, “and it seemed like he came out once in the middle, but didn’t do anything, then was called back by his wife.”
“Which way did he go when he came out? What’s in that direction?” Xie Yu asked.
Ade thought carefully, “Not much, I think? Just the usual place for slaughtering pigs and sheep, and setting up firewood and big pots… Oh, right, the livestock sheds are also in that direction, along with two wells. Further out is a small grove of trees.”
The inn served large communal meals, with the cook using a shovel to stir the food in an iron wok. It was too cramped inside, so Liu Shan had a shed built in the open area outside. It was good for heat dissipation in summer and not too cold in winter.
Yuanpei hissed, “Could it really be a bandit den?”
In the early years of war, there were even people selling human flesh!
Ade waved his hand, “That’s unlikely. The main reason is that among the passing travelers, there are many livestock traders. These people practically grew up eating meat and drinking milk. What kind of meat could fool their eyes?”
If it were really human meat, there would have been an uproar long ago.
Everyone thought about it and agreed that was probably true.
Meanwhile, Judge Song was interrogating Liu Shan and others. He came out once to drink water and immediately said, “That bastard definitely isn’t telling the truth. It’s very likely he killed the man.”
He wouldn’t dare say this in public, but among his own people, he could boldly make assumptions.
In his half a lifetime, he had encountered countless individuals in distinctive ways. After a brief exchange with Liu Shan, he keenly perceived a certain quality in the man:
The quality of a desperate man.
So the question arose again—if Gao Fa was indeed murdered, where was the body?
Ma Bing raised a very important detail, “Also, at the time of the incident, it was the depth of winter. The ground was frozen hard. A pickaxe strike would spark. If they wanted to bury the body, wouldn’t that be difficult?”
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