Leaving the crime scene, Yan Tongshu found nothing particularly noteworthy and then took people to Wen Zhengshen’s home.
Wen Zhengshen had lost his mother at birth and his father at the age of seven, leaving him to live with only a frail grandmother.
That grandmother had passed away just last year.
As a result, Wen Zhengshen’s house was empty.
His home was very small, consisting of just one bedroom, one kitchen, and an outhouse.
In the courtyard, less than two meters across, hung clothes he had left out to dry but hadn’t taken in yet.
They were all plain-colored, washed many times, faintly faded to white.
Yan Tongshu first entered Wen Zhengshen’s bedroom, which contained a desk, a wardrobe, and a bed.
The bed was neatly made. Lifting the pillow, she found several slips of paper underneath—mostly IOUs, with one from a pawnshop. The pawned item was a golden hairpin.
Studying was expensive; writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones all cost a lot. Wen Zhengshen’s debts were hardly surprising.
Yan Tongshu handed the pawnshop slip to a constable, instructing him to temporarily retrieve the pawned item to the county office.
After examining the bed, Yan Tongshu opened the wardrobe. Inside were only a few clothes, similar to those hanging in the yard.
She closed the wardrobe door and turned her gaze to the desk.
The desk was placed by the window to ensure good lighting and was piled high with Wen Zhengshen’s poetry, essays, study notes, and paintings.
Yan Tongshu picked up the study notes and flipped through them. The handwriting was sharp and flamboyant, the tone exaggerated and lofty, filled with discontent and veiled criticisms of the present by referencing the past. Instantly, Yan Tongshu formed a vivid impression of Wen Zhengshen.
A newcomer to the Xianlin Academy, suffering a devastating blow—disillusioned and resentful like his peers.
Putting down the notes, she flipped further and found Wen Zhengshen’s identification papers for three imperial examinations in the capital.
Three failures in the capital exams—no wonder he was filled with bitterness and pent-up frustration.
Yan Tongshu then opened a painting on the desk titled "Night Rain at the Mountain God Temple."
A solitary mountain, a lone temple, ghosts roaming at night.
Dark, chaotic, terrifying.
In the misty rain, faint mountain peaks could be seen beyond the temple.
Yan Tongshu furrowed her brow. Songshan?
Yes, those peaks were Songshan, very similar to the Songshan depicted in Qiao Qingqing’s paintings.
Why did Wen Zhengshen’s painting feature the Songshan from "Listening to the Rain at Songshan"?
Was it drawn from the same place?
Or was there some other intention?
Yan Tongshu’s suspicion of Wen Zhengshen deepened, especially after seeing "Night Rain at the Mountain God Temple."
Could it be that he really was the murderer, fleeing in guilt?
Leaving the bedroom, Yan Tongshu inspected the rest of the house. The kitchen was tiny, barely enough room for one person to turn around. Inside the cabinet above the stove were only two bowls and a pair of chopsticks, one bowl chipped from a collision.
The wood shed held only a small amount of firewood, filling about a third of the space.
The living room contained just a table, two chairs, a kettle, and two cups.
On the living room wall hung Wen Zhengshen’s own calligraphy, the style more unrestrained and spirited than his study notes. Judging by the yellowing of the paper, it was likely created in his earlier years.
There was nothing else.
Wen Zhengshen’s home was very small, the courtyard likewise, all visible at a glance.
Yan Tongshu instructed Xu Qiu to seal off Wen Zhengshen’s house temporarily and to take the painting "Night Rain at the Mountain God Temple" back to the county office. Then she went to the homes of the Qiao and Ma families to inspect the bedrooms of Qiao Qingqing and Ma Tianci.
Both the Qiao and Ma families each ran their own tailor shops. Inside, a few master craftsmen worked, earning a decent amount of silver each year, though far from wealthy. Housing prices in Bianjing were exorbitant, and even official residences were only slightly larger than ordinary homes.
Therefore, Qiao Qingqing and Ma Tianci only had bedrooms, with no courtyard.
Ma Tianci’s bedroom was modest, devoid of luxury, but filled with the scent of books and culture. It was cluttered with numerous paintings and calligraphy pieces he had collected over time.
On the desk, the ink in the inkstone had dried up, and beside it lay a brush, also dried and unused.
Nearby was a half-finished poem, with only two lines written—each saturated with longing and yearning.
Entering Qiao Qingqing’s bedroom, one would immediately notice a faint floral fragrance.
Her wardrobe was packed with dresses of various colors and patterns. The dressing table was strewn with rouge, powders, and jewelry, clearly showing her love for beauty and adornment.
On the wall hung a painting of a young girl holding a lantern—the lively and charming girl depicted was none other than Qiao Qingqing herself.
Judging by the brushwork and color style, it was likely painted by Qiao Qingqing’s own hand.
Yan Tongshu asked Tao Hong, “Does your young mistress have no habit of practicing calligraphy or painting at home?”
Tao Hong lowered her head, fingers tightly gripping her sleeve. “Honorable Prefect, although my young mistress is renowned for her talents outside, she actually dislikes calligraphy and painting. She only loves makeup and dressing up for amusement.
In the past, the master and mistress hired tutors who forced her to study. If she refused to learn, she would be punished by having her calves struck. So, she had no choice but to practice daily. But two years ago, after her calligraphy and painting skills had improved, and without the tutors’ supervision, she grew weary of ink and brushes. Unless absolutely necessary, she would never touch a brush.”
Yan Tongshu flipped through the only two books on the desk. Occasionally, there were sketches of kittens and puppies—crudely drawn with a few simple strokes, awkward but lively and amusing. He closed the books and asked, “Does your young mistress still have any calligraphy or paintings from her school days?”
Tao Hong twisted her handkerchief even more fiercely. “Honorable Prefect, as I said before, my young mistress detests those forced study days. After gaining freedom, she hated touching brushes even more. She resented those times deeply. Once, after a quarrel with the mistress, she angrily burned all her past paintings and calligraphy. Whether from her school days or after becoming famous, not a single piece was kept.”
Yan Tongshu nodded. “If that’s the case, then so be it.”
He turned and left. “By the way, I’m taking these two books with me.”
Tao Hong was stunned.
...
That evening, Yan Tongshu sat inside the carriage, still mulling over the case.
Pearl advised, “Young Master, let’s stop thinking about it. We’re almost home.”
Yan Tongshu propped his chin on his hand. “I don’t want to, but my mind won’t stop. Besides, the government office can’t keep holding onto the bodies of Qiao Qingqing and Ma Tianci forever. They have to be buried eventually. If the case remains unsolved and the bodies are buried, I’m afraid that if new leads appear later, we won’t be able to verify them properly.”
Pearl sighed deeply. “Ah, being an official is so hard.”
Indeed.
Yan Tongshu glared resentfully toward the direction of the Xianlin Pavilion. Why couldn’t she have stayed there to continue her studies?
Who was the damned person who recommended her to the Kaifeng Prefecture?
“We’ve arrived, Young Master.”
The carriage came to a halt. Jinbao lifted the curtain and helped Yan Tongshu and Pearl down, then went to park the carriage himself.
As soon as Yan Tongshu and Pearl stepped inside, they ran into Zhou Zhengxun coming out from within.
Zhou Zhengxun’s face was etched with worry, his brows furrowed in an unresolved gloom, tinged with a hint of sorrow.
Seeing Yan Tongshu, he cupped his hands in greeting. “Brother Yan.”
Yan Tongshu gave a slight nod and moved further inside.
Before, everyone had been reluctant to hurt Yan Liangyu, so the Yan family had tolerated the Zhou family’s repeated offenses. But now that Yan Liangyu had decided to break off the engagement, the Yan family saw no reason to keep up appearances with the Zhous any longer.
Moreover, the Zhou family’s previous misdeeds had already drained the goodwill between the two families.
Unexpectedly, when Yan Tongshu was about to leave, Zhou Zhengxun stepped to the right, blocking her path. This time, he changed his form of address, his voice pleading: “Brother Yan.”
Yan Tongshu stopped and fixed her gaze on him. “What is it?”
Zhou Zhengxun lowered his eyelids, pressed his lips together several times, then spoke with difficulty, “Brother Yan, I came to see Liangyu today, but… she refused to meet me.”
Yan Tongshu’s tone was cold and clear. “Liangyu is stubborn. When she first set her mind on you, our mother, sister, and I all tried to persuade her, but she wouldn’t yield. We couldn’t change her mind then, and now that she’s determined to sever ties with you, even if you want me to intercede, I’m powerless.”
Zhou Zhengxun’s voice was low and heavy. “I know my mother’s actions have been disgraceful, but I’ve been trying to convince her.”
Yan Tongshu rubbed her temple, her patience wearing thin. “So?”
Trying hard, making an effort—she’d heard those words for years. Did it make any difference?
Where was this so-called ‘convincing’?
Zhou Zhengxun said urgently, “Brother Yan, Liangyu is your sister. Can’t you help us?”
Yan Tongshu suppressed the fury rising in her chest. “How can I help you? Do you expect me to persuade your mother?”
Perhaps she hadn’t fully concealed the anger in her voice, because Zhou Zhengxun’s expression suddenly panicked. “I—I didn’t mean that.”
Yan Tongshu shot back, her tone rising slightly, “Then what exactly do you mean?”
“I… I…” Zhou Zhengxun hesitated, then finally blurted out his intention. “Brother Yan, I’m currently waiting for a post in the Ministry of Personnel…”
Yan Tongshu raised an eyebrow. So?
So the Zhou family expected the Yan and Qian families to grease the wheels for him without spending a single coin?
Zhou Zhengxun bowed lower, barely daring to look up. “I know this request is unreasonable, but… I heard the position of Registrar in the Kaifeng Prefecture is vacant. If I could get a recommendation from the Prefect, the Ministry of Personnel would usually approve it. If I could secure a post in Kaifeng, my mother would feel reassured and stop making things difficult for Liangyu.”
When he finished, he looked up expectantly. But Yan Tongshu’s face turned icy cold.
“Zhou Zhengxun,” she said, her voice cold as steel, “do you think the eyes watching the Yan family aren’t already numerous enough? You want me, just having taken office in Kaifeng Prefecture, to pull strings for you and then wait to be impeached?”
Zhou Zhengxun instantly panicked. “N-no, that’s not what I meant. Brother Yan, I passed the imperial exams too, so technically I’m qualified.”
Yan Tongshu turned away, took a deep breath, and forced herself to suppress the anger she felt toward the Zhou family.
“Zhou Zhengxun.”
Composing herself, Yan Tongshu turned back to face him, her words clear and deliberate. “What you mean is this: because your mother has been delaying, opposing, and refusing all along, you expect our Yan family to make concession after concession, right?”
Zhou Zhengxun pressed his lips tightly, silent as a frightened sparrow.
“Zhou Zhengxun, what about your own thoughts?” Yan Tongshu stepped closer, her gaze sharp as a blade. “From the time Liangyu was thirteen until now, almost seventeen, nearly four years have passed. During this time, the Zhou and Yan families have been tugging back and forth, utterly exhausted. Every time the marriage is discussed, your mother claims to be ill. Every time, the Yan family adds more conditions. Your relationship has turned into a tug-of-war between two families, a matter of interests and negotiations. And you?”
She paused briefly, her voice dropping lower. “Do you still hold the same resolute feelings you had at fourteen, when you boldly eloped with thirteen-year-old Liangyu?”
Zhou Zhengxun’s eyes clouded with confusion. “Brother Yan, what do you mean by that?”
“For four years, all we’ve heard are the thoughts of your father, your mother, the Zhou family. But what about you?” Yan Tongshu enunciated each word carefully. “What do you really want?”
Zhou Zhengxun, desperate to prove his loyalty, hurriedly said, “I am truly sincere in my feelings for Liangyu!”
“I have never doubted your sincerity,” Yan Tongshu interrupted him. “Fine. Since you don’t understand my question, I’ll put it another way. I have already informed the Ministry of Personnel that the final decision regarding the candidate for the Registrar position will be left entirely to them. I will not go back on my word now to favor you.”
“So, how long are you willing to make Liangyu wait? If today I tell you plainly that your mother is taking advantage of Liangyu’s being a girl, dragging out the engagement, and that Liangyu will suffer because of her age, while showing no regard for the Yan family’s position—well, we have had enough.”
“Now, the only way for you and Liangyu to be together is to elope. Do you still dare, like when you were fourteen, to take Liangyu and run away, no matter the consequences? If you do, I believe Madam Zhou and Lord Zhou will concede, just as they did before, and allow your marriage. Do you dare?”
As Yan Tongshu spoke, her eyes pierced Zhou Zhengxun like a sharp blade.
Intimidated, Zhou Zhengxun instinctively stepped back half a pace. “But… my mother’s health has been poor these past two years, and her illness keeps relapsing.”
His lips moved slightly as he whispered, “The Zhou family has come this far with great difficulty. If it all falls apart because of me, ruining my father’s lifelong efforts, I… as a son, would be utterly unfilial.”
The expected answer.
Yan Tongshu shook her head in disappointment.
The sincerity was still there, but it could no longer be as pure as it once was.
Four years had passed. Zhou Zhengxun had grown from a fourteen-year-old boy to an eighteen-year-old young man.
He had achieved top honors in the imperial examinations, becoming a Jinshi.
The Zhou family had risen steadily in power.
During these four years, he had learned what power meant, what family meant, and what it meant to weigh interests and consequences.
He still cared deeply for Liangyu, but in his heart, her place had been pushed further and further down the list of priorities. She was no longer as important as she once was.
A fourteen-year-old boy’s heart is simple and pure, willing to charge forward for love without fear or hesitation.
The eighteen-year-old heir of the Yan family could no longer carry on as before.
Yan Tongshu said nothing more. Taking Pearl with him, he turned and walked away. After only a few steps, Yan Liangyu emerged quietly from behind a corridor pillar, waiting patiently.
“Did you hear everything?” Yan Tongshu asked softly.
Yan Liangyu nodded slightly, her expression so calm it was almost heartbreaking. “I originally came out hoping to hear what he wanted to say to me.”
Yan Tongshu patted her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s alright. We’ll find a way to get the official certificate back. If worst comes to worst, I, your eldest brother, will use my third-rank official position to demand it in person. The Zhou family won’t dare to refuse.”
Yan Liangyu gave a bitter smile. “We’ll see. Brother, Sister is here today too, and Mother is waiting with her in the dining hall.”
“Hmm.” Yan Tongshu replied, “Then let’s hurry.”
After dinner, Yan Liangrong, Lady Yan, Yan Tongshu, and Yan Liangyu sat together drinking tea.
Yan Liangrong looked at Yan Tongshu and said, “Tongshu, Sister has come this time to remind you about something important.”
Yan Tongshu immediately straightened up, attentive. “Please, Sister, go ahead.”
Yan Liangrong took a list from her bosom and handed it to Pearl, who passed it to Yan Tongshu. He took it and saw several unfamiliar names on it. Puzzled, he asked, “Sister, what is this?”
