At last, the banquet came to an end, and Yan Tongshu rose to take her leave.
Just then, a young eunuch approached: "Lord Yan."
He handed a hand warmer to Yan Tongshu with both hands: "Lord Yan, the snow is heavy and the cold is biting. Keep this with you to stay warm."
Yan Tongshu studied the newcomer—this young eunuch, she did not recognize him.
She accepted the hand warmer and said kindly, "Thank you, eunuch."
The young eunuch smiled: "You're welcome. The roads are slippery in the snow—mind your step and take care not to fall."
Yan Tongshu: "Mm."
The young eunuch watched until Yan Tongshu departed, accompanied by a eunuch holding an umbrella, only then did he return to report to Lu Xi.
Lu Xi nodded, turned quietly, and stepped back to Qin Yi's side.
Qin Yi was at that moment changing out of his banquet robes.
Lu Xi bowed and said softly, "Your Majesty, the hand warmer has been delivered."
He paused, a hint of a smile curling at the corners of his eyes: "Your Majesty still cares for Lord Yan. If Lord Yan knew, she would surely be even more loyal to Your Majesty."
"Ha." Qin Yi gave a light, noncommittal snort. "That was a warning to her—so she doesn't think about using illness as an excuse to shirk her duties again."
Lu Xi echoed promptly: "Yes, yes. Your Majesty wasn't showing care—it was a warning."
Qin Yi changed into casual robes and settled onto the warm couch: "By the way, what gift did Yan Tongshu send?"
Lu Xi immediately ordered someone to bring over Yan Tongshu's gift.
Qin Yi casually glanced at those three bolts of plain, unremarkable but sturdy and thick fabric, and a light sneer escaped his throat: "Utterly lacking in thought."
"Your Majesty, there's also a box." Lu Xi signaled a young eunuch with a glance.
The young eunuch understood, and presented a wooden box. When the lid was lifted, inside lay twelve pieces of milk-skin persimmon rolls, neatly stacked.
"Look here, Your Majesty," Lu Xi brought the box closer, smiling as he spoke, "Lord Yan... did put some thought into it after all."
Qin Yi remained silent, only squeezing out another disdainful "Ha" from his throat.
Lu Xi couldn't discern what that ambiguous "Ha" meant, and said cautiously, "Shall this servant store it in the warehouse for now?"
Qin Yi said nothing. Just as Lu Xi was about to close the box, Qin Yi suddenly raised a hand to stop him: "Leave it on the table. If put in the warehouse, this thing would spoil in a couple of days."
Lu Xi: "Yes."
Lu Xi placed the box on the table. Seeing that Qin Yi was already reviewing memorials, he thought for a moment and withdrew from the hall.
Before long, Lu Xi returned with a freshly brewed cup of strong tea, and took out the persimmon rolls one by one, arranging them neatly on a plain porcelain plate. He set it gently on the desk alongside the tea.
That day, when he had accompanied His Majesty out of the palace to inquire about these milk-skin persimmon rolls, he had heard someone say the rolls were very sweet, and that they paired best with strong tea.
Qin Yi caught it in his peripheral vision, but said nothing.
After a while, Qin Yi picked one up while reading a memorial and took a bite. The moment he bit into it, his brows furrowed.
Too sweet.
Qin Yi set down the half-eaten roll, picked up the teacup, and took a sip. Indeed, the strong tea washed away the excess sweetness, and the sweetness tempered the tea's bitterness—the two balanced each other out perfectly.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Qin Yi's mouth: "Not bad."
Lu Xi was overjoyed. He bowed and said, "That this suits Your Majesty's taste is the blessing of this pastry and tea."
...
The Yan residence.
Moonlight shimmered amidst the frozen air, and the wind sang through the bitter cold of the night.
Inside the room, warm and cozy, Yan Liangrong and Zheng Chun sat facing each other in silence.
After a long moment, it was Zheng Chun who finally spoke first, unable to hold back: "Wife... Ying Li has told me."
Yan Liangrong wore her thickest wadded-cotton coat and clutched a cup of hot tea, her icy fingers warmed by the steam. There was also a heated floor inside the room, but she still felt very cold.
She thought, perhaps it was because her heart had turned cold—then her hands and feet would never warm up.
Zheng Chun pressed his lips together: "Wife, I don't know what you've heard, but Ying Li and I—neither of us has ever done a single improper thing. We have been entirely innocent from start to finish. Back then, I saw her being sold by her own relatives at the side of the street. The girl was only thirteen at the time, her hands covered in frostbite. My heart could not bear it, so I spent money to buy her and sent her home.
As a scholar, I read the books of the sages and learned propriety and honor, and the duty to aid the world. But unlike Tongshu, I do not have the talent of a top scholar. My abilities are ordinary, and I cannot aid all the world, so I wished to save the person right before my eyes."
Zheng Chun's voice grew softer: "I placed all my unfulfilled aspirations onto her. And since she was so young, more than ten years my junior, I have always taken care of her as if she were my own daughter. Wife, we only have our son Ke'er—you know this. I have always longed for a daughter."
He lifted his eyes to Yan Liangrong, his tone almost pleading: "Wife, Ke'er calls me Father and calls her Sister—doesn't that prove that Ke'er sees her as a sister, and I see her as a daughter?"
Yan Liangrong kept her eyes lowered, a misty haze covering them: "She asked me to let you go."
Zheng Chun suddenly rose and stumbled to kneel beside her, explaining urgently: "I said some foolish things to her, and she misunderstood. Wife, I know you are hurt. Here—hit me, scold me, let out all the resentment in your heart, alright?"
He grabbed Yan Liangrong's hand and slapped his own face with it, again and again.
"Enough." Yan Liangrong stopped his self-punishment and withdrew her hand: "You may not hurt, but my hand does."
Zheng Chun, tears welling in his eyes, begged: "Wife, there is truly nothing between her and me. I truly only see her as a daughter. If you don't trust her and me, I will find a matchmaker starting tomorrow to arrange a marriage for her, and find her a good husband—alright? If you don't believe me, come home with me, and I will personally call for a matchmaker in front of you, have her inspected, find her prospects, and marry her off as quickly as possible. Would that be acceptable?"
Yan Liangrong kept her silence.
Zheng Chun sank down helplessly and painfully, looking up at her, his voice choked with tears: "Wife, think of Ke'er. He is your own flesh and blood son. He is still so small, only six years old. He cannot be without you."
"Is that so?" A bitterly ironic arc curled at the corner of Yan Liangrong's lips.
She lifted her gaze to Zheng Chun: "I won't be returning to the Zheng residence for the time being."
Not only because she hadn't yet decided how to deal with Zheng Chun, but also because she intended to use this period of separation to make her son, Ke'er, fully aware of who his mother was, and to make him understand the bond between mother and child.
That way, if she and Zheng Chun separated, she could take Ke'er with her smoothly.
Zheng Chun: "Wife—"
"Zheng Chun." Yan Liangrong cut him off, her tone so calm it was unsettling. "I haven't yet decided how to handle this matter, how to resolve what is between us. When I've made my decision, I will tell you."
Hearing this, a surge of indignation rose in Zheng Chun's chest: "Wife, this decision concerns me, concerns Ke'er, concerns our whole family. Shouldn't you ask for our opinions? Why must everything be decided by you alone?"
Finally, Zheng Chun broke down in tears: "My lady, are you abandoning me and Ke'er? My lady, I can't live without you, and neither can Ke'er. Don't make decisions alone, please? We're a family. Come home with me. From now on, I'll tell you wherever I go. I promise I won't keep anything from you, ever again.
My lady, Ying Li is just a sixteen-year-old child. She doesn't understand anything. She misunderstood. Nothing happened between her and me, truly nothing at all… What more must I say for you to believe me..."
His tears fell in torrents.
Yan Liangrong feared her own heart softening, so she closed her eyes. "Go back for now. Ke'er is still young and will be scared home alone."
Zheng Chun clung desperately to Yan Liangrong's hand. "Then come home with me. Ke'er needs his mother, and I can't bear to be without you."
Yan Liangrong withdrew her hand. "You should go back."
Zheng Chun: "My lady..."
No matter what Zheng Chun said, Yan Liangrong's mind was made up and could not be moved. With no other choice, he finally returned to the Zheng mansion alone, despondent and dejected.
At the gate of the Zheng mansion, the night was so deep, so cold.
Ying Li stood alone at the door. When she saw Zheng Chun step down from the carriage, she rushed over: "My lord."
Startled, Zheng Chun pushed her away. She stumbled and nearly fell, forcing him to catch her.
Ying Li tugged at his sleeve. "My lord, does the lady still misunderstand? I can explain to her."
Zheng Chun drew a deep breath; the cold air pierced his lungs, aching sharply.
He said, "There's no need. Go back first. Tomorrow I'll arrange for a matchmaker to find you a good family."
Ying Li froze in shock, tears hanging from her long lashes without falling.
After a long moment, she blinked, and crystal tears slipped down. "My lord, I don't understand. You are so unhappy, so miserable, with the lady. But with me, you're so joyful, so content. Why not leave her and instead force me to leave you?"
She wept, demanding, "My lord, why would you rather suffer than be happy with me? My lord, I like you, and I can sense that you feel something for me, too."
"Your feelings are mistaken." Zheng Chun looked at her with an almost icy expression. "Ying Li, you're still too young. You don't understand love between a man and a woman at all. For me, you've always been nothing more than a daughter. All I've ever hoped for you is that you'd grow up and marry well.
If I ever said anything to give you the wrong idea, or accidentally did anything that made you misunderstand, I apologize. I love my wife. We came together by overcoming every obstacle because we loved each other. I will love only her for the rest of my life, and she will be my only wife."
Zheng Chun summoned a servant and told him to escort Ying Li home.
He turned his back to her. "Once you're home, don't come again. I'll have the matchmaker pick out some suitable candidates first, then you can take your time looking. As I said before, I've always treated you like a daughter, cherished you like a daughter, confided in you like a daughter. So I'll prepare your dowry. But my means are limited; it won't be much."
With that, Zheng Chun stepped through the mansion gates.
The gate of the Zheng mansion closed in front of Ying Li's eyes, inch by inch, as her hope died.
The servant said to her, "Miss Ying, this way, please."
Ying Li, tears in her eyes, murmured to herself: "Why? I don't understand. I really don't understand. He's so happy with me, so joyful. In that household, he's in so much pain… why…"
...After several days of heavy snow, the weather warmed and cleared.
Yan Tongshu, a thick blanket covering her thighs, was handling official business.
Finally, lunch break arrived. Pearl and Jinbao set up a mutton hotpot in the courtyard.
Snow-white lamb broth churned inside a red copper pot.
Lamb, lamb tripe, and lamb stomach were all tossed in.
Nothing warms you up in winter quite like lamb soup.
After a bowl of lamb soup, Yan Tongshu felt her chilled limbs instantly become warm.
The three of them were eating joyfully, each with chopsticks and bowls in hand, when Li Fulin led an elderly, white-haired man over to them.
Li Fulin bowed to Yan Tongshu first: "Lord Yan."
Yan Tongshu put down her bowl. "Magistrate Li, what timing. Have you eaten? If not, join us."
Li Fulin smiled. "This official has already dined."
He gestured to the elderly man beside him and introduced him: "Lord Yan, this is Yu Ping, the former Prefect of Kaifeng Prefecture. Elder Yu."
Since Yu Ping had resigned from office and was preparing to return to his hometown, the title "Lord Yu" no longer suited him. But because Yu Ping had once mentored Li Fulin, Li Fulin respectfully called him Elder Yu.
Yan Tongshu set down her chopsticks, rose, and cupped her fists in salute. "Elder Yu."
Yu Ping looked at Yan Tongshu appraisingly and smiled. "Lord Yan, you're too polite. This old man is but a commoner now. There's no need for such formalities."
Yan Tongshu said respectfully, "Age demands respect. Etiquette must not be abandoned."
Li Fulin explained with a smile, "Lord Yan, Elder Yu sets sail for home tomorrow. This trip... it's unlikely he'll ever return to Kaifeng again. Before he leaves, he wanted to see the Kaifeng Prefecture once more, and also meet you, Lord Yan."
Yan Tongshu immediately understood: "Elder Yu presided over the Kaifeng Prefecture for many years, with deep experience. Today this junior is fortunate to meet you. I hope you won't hesitate to share your wisdom."
Yu Ping was about to speak when Zhang Jiu suddenly approached: "Lord Yan, something has happened."
Hastening over with a grave expression, Zhang Jiu brushed right past Yu Ping and Li Fulin, making it clear that this was no small matter.
Yan Tongshu immediately asked: "What is it?"
It was a matter internal to the yamen, and highly serious. Zhang Jiu dared not speak it aloud. He came close to Yan Tongshu and, in a voice only the two of them could hear, said: "Cao Jian, deputy commander of the Divine Strategy Army, was assassinated last night, found dead in his study."
Cao Jian?
The one blessed with superhuman strength, able to kill a tiger with his bare fists, and hailing from the outlaw world?
Yan Tongshu immediately said to Yu Ping: "Forgive me, Elder Yu. I need to go out right now."
Yu Ping nodded. "Go."
Yan Tongshu left at once with Zhang Jiu, while Pearl and Jinbao obediently stayed behind.
Seeing Yan Tongshu leave, Li Fulin sighed.
Yu Ping, however, was open-minded. "It's fine. I'll wait for her."
Li Fulin: "But you leave tomorrow."
Yu Ping: "Once the case is handled, she'll return."
...
Cao Jian had a special status as deputy commander of the Divine Strategy Army. By the time Yan Tongshu and Zhang Jiu arrived at the Cao mansion in a hurry with their people, many had already gathered there.
Officials from both the Ministry of Justice and the Divine Strategy Army were present.
On the left sat Chu Lishen, Minister of Justice, with the Director of the Ministry of Justice beside him.
That director was none other than an old acquaintance: Cen Xu.
On the right sat Xiao Jun, commander of the Divine Strategy Army, accompanied by the new commander-in-chief and several guards.
Xiao Jun was burly, solidly built, with defined muscles and slightly curly, slightly yellow hair.
In the center of the reception hall stood Cao Jian's wife, Cui Lingyi, and their two children: thirteen-year-old twins, Cao Jinyue and Cao He.
Yan Tongshu walked in, and the Minister of Justice and Xiao Jun both shot her a look of disdain.
Yan Tongshu: "..."
These two were really something—so obvious in their disdain that they couldn't even be bothered to keep up appearances.
Since others were giving her hostile looks, Yan Tongshu decided she wouldn't give them a pleasant face either. She treated everyone else as if they were invisible and went straight to the study entrance to observe.
The study had been cordoned off with ropes, surrounded by a mix of Ministry of Justice and Divine Strategy Army personnel. In other words, the crime scene was well preserved.
Yan Tongshu asked Lady Cao, “Has anyone been inside?”
Lady Cao said, “Last night, the General slept in the study. This morning, a servant asked if he wanted breakfast. The General didn't answer. The servant assumed he was still asleep and didn't think much of it. Come noon, Yue'er came looking for her father. The servant said the General wasn't there, so Yue'er asked the gatekeeper where he’d gone. The gatekeeper said no one had seen him leave. Yue'er asked around further, and everyone said the same—no one had seen him. Everyone thought he was still in the study, so the servant knocked again. Still no response. The servant reported it, and I brought people to break down the door.”
Lady Cao's tears fell freely as she spoke of her grief: “I never expected that when the door broke open, we'd find the General lying dead in there.”
She pointed at the body inside, saying, “All I wanted to know was what had happened to him. I didn't think—I just rushed over and threw myself on him, weeping. It wasn't until the servants pulled me away that I stopped. Other than that, no one else has been inside.”
Yan Tongshu nodded and summoned a clerk, instructing him to sketch out the layout of the study. As the clerk drew, she also observed the study from outside.
Cao Jian was a military officer, promoted after saving Prince Ming by a stroke of luck, so he wasn't particularly educated and didn't care much for reading. The largest area in his residence was the training grounds; the study itself was quite small—five and a half paces long, four and a half paces wide, which in modern measurements came to roughly thirty square meters.
Inside, the thirty-square-meter study was divided into two sections by a bookcase.
The back of the bookcase, set against the wall and facing northeast, contained a single bed and a table, upon which tea sets were placed.
The bed's quilt and pillow were neatly folded, perfectly tidy—no telltale signs of anyone having slept there.
The front of the bookcase faced a long desk, with writing brush, inkstick, paper, inkstone, official documents, and a vase piled on top.
In the vase were several dry branches with no flower buds, only leaves and some red berries.
Both the desk and bookcase had many drawers, some even padlocked—likely containing important items or official papers.
In front of the desk, near the two windows on either side of the study, stood a tea table each, accompanied by two chairs.
The windows faced each other.
On the tea table in the southeast corner sat a white porcelain teapot and two teacups. One cup was set upside down on the tea tray; the other, placed on the right side, still held half-drunk tea.
Cao Jian's body lay on the right side of that tea table.
Lady Cao explained, “At the time, the General was lying on his side on the floor. I was too upset to think clearly, so I just rushed over and hugged him. By the time the servants pulled me away, I couldn't remember what position he'd initially been in—I only remember he was lying on his side.”
“That's fine.”
Yan Tongshu continued inspecting the room.
It was winter, and the Cao residence had an underfloor heating system, similar to modern floor heating.
But even so, the temperature was much lower than in autumn, which would slow the body's decomposition. If Cao Jian had died last night, his body would still be in rigor mortis, and even if Lady Cao moved him, she wouldn't have changed the state of his death.
Just as it looked now.
Cao Jian's arms hung naturally at his sides, his legs were bent naturally, and his head pointed downward.
Protruding from his chest was a long arrow, its black feather fletching stained with deep blue.
Yan Tongshu followed the direction the chair was facing and looked toward the opposite window.
She walked over and spotted a small hole in the window.
She gestured along the line.
Hole. Arrow. Body.
It looked like someone had hidden on the wall beside the study window, fired an arrow, and taken out Cao Jian with a single strike.
But... something wasn't right.
Zhang Jiu asked, “Lord Yan, is there a problem?”
Yan Tongshu shook her head.
Something didn't add up. She couldn't say what exactly—just an instinctive feeling.
She studied Cao Jian's body.
His hands hung naturally at his sides. There was no motion of clutching his chest, no instinctive defensive movement.
Someone like Cao Jian—a naturally powerful man, brawny and broad, the build of two men combined—could be shot from outside a window and simply die without putting up any fight at all?
Could he have been drugged beforehand?
If the killer could drug Cao Jian, why not just poison him outright? Why go through the trouble of setting up an ambush and shooting him?
Or maybe the killer was such a martial arts expert that a single strike could kill instantly?
In all of Bianjing, the people who could outmatch Cao Jian in combat could be counted on one hand.
Yan Tongshu instinctively glanced at Xiao Jun, Commander of the Divine Strategy Army. He was one.
Then there was Meng Yi, Commander of the Divine Guard Army.
Those were the only two she knew of. As for others, she'd have to ask around.
Yan Tongshu surveyed the area. Because it was winter, much of the vegetation in Cao Jian's study garden had died off, except for a few firethorn bushes by the wall, burning red like flames.
Firethorn bushes—few ordinary households used them as courtyard decoration.
Yan Tongshu circled back from the window to the study entrance.
The study had three windows in total: two on the outer walls and one narrow ventilation window inside the bookcase. All three were latched shut from the inside. Lady Cao said the door had to be broken down, meaning it too had been locked from within.
A fully sealed space, with the only opening being the hole the arrow punching through the window.
But... this was ancient times.
Yan Tongshu crouched down to inspect the shattered door.
Most doors in ancient times used wooden bolt latches.
With the gap between the two door panels being fairly wide, you could slip something from the outside through the center slit, nudge the wooden bar, and lock the door from outside while staying outside yourself.
The Cao residence was old, and since Cao Jian paid little attention to the study, the bolt showed years of wear and tear, with even the anti-pry mechanisms already worn out. If someone were to insert a blade from the outside and use the flat edge to slide the bolt, any marks left would be difficult to discern.
Yan Tongshu looked outside again.
The study only had one entrance, with guards posted around the clock in shifts. If anyone had gone in or out, they'd certainly have been noticed.
All things considered, it really seemed there was only one possibility: Cao Jian had been shot from the opposite wall by an expert archer.
Just as Yan Tongshu was mulling things over, the clerk reported that the crime scene sketch was complete. Yan Tongshu nodded and stepped into the study.
At that moment, the Minister of Justice and Xiao Jun also entered with their people.
Yan Tongshu brought over the coroner assigned to the Cao residence, Wu Suowei, and together they examined Cao Jian's body.
There was blood only on Cao Jian's chest, and the volume was moderate.
Cao Jian's body was still in the rigor mortis stage—hadn't yet entered the resolution phase. His lividity and posture were nearly fixed, and pressing on the lividity marks with a finger caused them to reappear only with difficulty.
Given the room temperature, his time of death fell within an estimated ten to twelve hours.
The current time was roughly just after wei shi—around 1 p.m. in modern terms.
Working backward, Cao Jian likely died between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m., during the chou shi hours last night.
Yan Tongshu examined Cao Jian's hair, his skin, and the rest of his body, checking for any other wounds.
Yan Tongshu loosened Cao Jian's tied-up hair and found it to be quite sparse underneath, showing signs of early balding.
Then came his hands and feet—his fingertips were swollen, his arms had patches of hyperpigmentation, and the stratum corneum on his palms and soles was much thicker than normal, seemingly a case of palmoplantar hyperkeratosis.
Yan Tongshu reported these findings one by one to Wu Suowei, asking her to take notes.
Yan Tongshu then pried open Cao Jian's mouth. "Huh?"
As she jotted things down, Wu Suowei asked, "What is it, Lord Yan?"
