Chapter 63

The foreman sent by Feng Kun—Feng Qian—was, unexpectedly, a small but pleasant surprise.

Last time at the Lingzhou military camp, Gu Wan had been blocked at the entrance. If Feng Qian hadn’t rushed up to verify her identity and announce it loudly upon hearing her call, who knows what the outcome would have been.

Gu Wan was briefly taken aback, then hurried over to thank him. “I’m truly grateful for your help last time! If you hadn’t reacted so quickly, there would have been real trouble.”

As she spoke, the people inside the manor had already come out, and upon hearing what happened, Qin Ying quickly stepped forward to thank Feng Qian as well.

The fair-skinned young man smiled, revealing two neat dimples. He quickly waved his hands. “I was just fulfilling my duties as a coroner. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

He had only just learned of Gu Wan today. Hastily, he took out a small notebook filled with meticulous notes—some ink fresh, some old. He looked a little embarrassed. “Miss Qin—ah, no, Miss Gu, may I ask you something? Isn’t it true that those who drown usually have mud and sand under their fingernails? But sometimes I find them very clean. Why is that?”

Gu Wan glanced down. The notes were thorough, with pages of symptom comparisons, ending with the words “to be solved.” On the next page, the notes about clenched fists had her explanation from last time, and it was clear Feng Qian had since researched further, adding his own practical observations.

“Oh, that’s because, barring a clean water environment, when someone drowns while deeply unconscious, there’s no struggle, so there’s no mud or sand under the nails. Yet, the face and lungs still show signs of drowning—though it’s rare. Otherwise, there will always be debris from the riverbed.”

Gu Wan asked in surprise, “Wait, aren’t you a magistrate? Why are you here this time?”

Feng Qian quickly scribbled in his notebook, his shoulders sagging. “I’ve been transferred to the Court of Judicial Review.”

Being a coroner was just a personal interest; he hadn’t been a magistrate for long before being sent to the Court of Judicial Review, which handles the verification and correction of state cases.

So that was it. Gu Wan and Qin Ying exchanged glances, and Qin Ying said with gratitude, “No matter what, we still owe you thanks.” Qin Guan also saluted Feng Qian.

This time, Qin Guan accompanied Xie Ci to Zhongdu, while Qin Yong returned with Qin Xian—one brother had to stay to assist Qin Xian.

Feng Qian quickly returned the salute, waving his hands. “No need, no need, just doing my duty.”

“Feng Kun’s nephew doesn’t seem like him at all,” Li Yi remarked, emerging with a raised brow.

By the pond not far away, Gu Wan and Qin Ying were laughing and chatting with Feng Qian. The fair-skinned young man seemed shy but warm, hesitating yet seizing every chance to ask Gu Wan questions, and their laughter echoed occasionally.

Xie Ci’s face darkened. Among all the young lords of Zhongdu, it seemed only Feng Qian fit the description. He almost immediately matched the name to the person.

He had thought of many ways to comfort Gu Wan, but with the real person suddenly standing before him—a rival in love—he found it wasn’t so easy. His gratitude barely surfaced, replaced swiftly by jealousy and gloom. Still, judging by Gu Wan’s reaction, it seemed they were meeting for the first time, which offered him some consolation.

Xie Ci couldn’t approach. Besides Feng Qian, several others had arrived, including Li Wang, whom they knew. Dismissing his displeasure, Xie Ci adjusted his expression and, with Li Yi, played host to the guests.

It was clear Feng Qian truly loved the work of a coroner. He’d asked many questions of others, and his notebooks were filled with old and new observations. Even after leaving his post as magistrate, he hadn’t abandoned this pursuit. Having solved a few long-standing puzzles, he beamed. “Miss Gu, I really can’t thank you enough!”

“No need,” Gu Wan replied, “it was nothing at all.”

Under the moonlight, the young man’s eyes curved like two shining crescents. Glancing behind, Gu Wan saw Li Wang and his companions being ushered into the house by a smiling Li Yi. She tried probing, “So many people—Zheng Shoufang must have seriously offended Minister Feng! Do you know what Minister Feng intends to do?”

“No idea,” Feng Qian replied honestly, shaking his head. After a pause, he lowered his voice. “But this time, you must succeed!”

Gu Wan turned and exchanged a look with Xie Ci, who stood on the front steps. Feng Qian followed her gaze, saw Xie Ci looking their way, and smiled with a nod.

In the moonlight, the youth’s skin was luminous; his features bore a faint resemblance to Feng Kun, but his eyes—bright, smiling, shaped like peach blossoms—were entirely different. His demeanor was gentle and warm, his clear smile glowing under the moon.

Handsome as he was, Xie Ci found his appearance detestable, forcing a smile that barely twitched his lips.

Seizing the moment, Xie Ci said to Gu Wan, “Shouldn’t you help your mother and brother pack? We might have to leave at dawn.”

“Very well, we’ll talk later. Young Master Feng, you should turn in early,” Qin Ying added. “You go ahead, I’ll take Young Master Feng to the guest room.”

Feng Qian quickly got up, “You can just call me Feng Qian. Miss Gu, please, don’t stand on ceremony…”

With that, Gu Wan patted herself down and left.

After she departed, Xie Ci’s forced smile vanished, replaced by a cold glare at Feng Qian and Qin Ying. The longer he looked at the man, the more irksome he became. Hmph—did he need to be told? Of course he knew success was crucial.

“Just lucky, that’s all,” Xie Ci muttered, withdrawing his gaze in cool disdain.

Truthfully, Xie Ci was in no mood for laughter. The moment Gu Wan left, even the small ripple of happiness in his heart vanished. Qin Ying beckoned him over, and Xie Ci, suppressing his displeasure, took a few steps forward, leading Feng Qian and Qin Ying into the manor.

After seeing their guests settled in, Xie Ci stood in the night breeze for a moment before turning briskly out of the guest courtyard.

But as he stepped outside, someone emerged from the willows—a slender figure in brown clothes and short boots, as supple as a summer willow. It was Gu Wan. She’d shed her earlier cheerfulness, cast a furtive glance inside the courtyard, tugged at Xie Ci’s sleeve, and pointed down a side corridor. “Sister Ying is fetching Li Yi.”

As if she’d be fooled by a pair of bright eyes—this was Feng Kun’s nephew, after all!

Though he had helped them before, gratitude and caution were both necessary. They still didn’t know Feng Kun’s intentions, so how could they be at ease? At most, they could show some courtesy, though he probably didn’t need it.

Glancing back repeatedly and muttering quietly, Gu Wan tiptoed away, not relaxing until they’d walked a long stretch. Only then did they straighten up and walk side by side, and Xie Ci finally felt a measure of relief.

He wanted to ask something, but the manor was small, and in no time they’d turned into a northern courtyard. He could only keep silent.

Their business discussions didn’t happen here during the day, but with so many of Feng Kun’s people present, they’d relocated. Xie Ping and Zheng Ying were packing through the night, even covering the windows with black cloth so the rooms looked no different from the others.

As soon as Xie Ci sat, he asked, “Are the carriages and horses ready?”

Xie Ping answered at once, “Yes, sir, all is prepared!”

Gu Wan added, “I’ve told the other two to rest and explained we might leave at dawn.”

Xie Ci instructed Xie Yun and Xie Ping, “Don’t mind anything else. If needed, just carry them away at once.”

“Yes, sir!” they replied.

Li Yi had disappeared for a time earlier that day to arrange matters at home. With a daughter under his care, he needed to ensure her safety before anything else.

All these precautions were because they still didn’t know Feng Kun’s true aim in targeting Zheng Shoufang. Qin Ying and Xie Ci hadn’t even sent a letter back to the Xie family, but with the Xu family now exposed, they could only hope for a safe chance to spirit them away during the journey.

Even so, there was no true sense of security—better perhaps to keep them close. It was all in an effort to prevent Feng Kun from using hostages against them.

Soon after, Li Yi and the others slipped inside. He wasted no words, “There’s news from the palace and the court—this case will be thoroughly investigated.”

There was no real dispute; the moment Feng Kun’s triumphant party arrived in Zhongdu, having ended the northern campaign, this major case was raised at the evening audience. Normally, the evening audience was at noon, but the aged emperor’s health meant he couldn’t rise early, so the morning audience was moved to noon and the evening to dusk—both now small courts, as the emperor no longer attended grand audiences.

The three grand granaries of Jiangjia held a fifth of all southern grain reserves. Full investigation was a foregone conclusion, and investigators were appointed on the spot.

“There are many of us, but also Grand Preceptor Lin and His Majesty’s own men,” Li Yi went on.

Three groups were dispatched south at once.

“Zheng Shoufang is among them. He arrived in the capital two days ago and was summoned to the palace both days. My people saw clearly—he had injuries on his face when he left.”

Li Yi had the best intelligence in the capital, “It seems the emperor is furious.”

The Zheng brothers had clearly deceived the throne. Perhaps they thought they could replenish the granaries after autumn taxes, making up for what was lost—but with the sudden outbreak and scale of the northwest war, the need for grain was so great that their deception couldn’t be concealed.

Li Yi tapped the table, then looked around. “Zheng Shoufang must be of great importance to the emperor!”

Only recently had Li Yi learned Zheng Shoufang was the head of the inner guards, which explained many past clues.

The Zheng family had held that position for generations, their interests tightly bound to the royal house—so much so that they could be trusted above all others, the emperor’s own blade.

Moreover, the emperor’s actions—sending Zheng Shoufang to the northern army and entrusting him with extracting Xie Xinchong—showed just how crucial Zheng was.

The emperor’s rage and Zheng Shoufang’s injuries proved one thing: the emperor could not let him die, he had to protect him.

Xie Ci raised his eyes to meet Li Yi’s. His face was grim—he, too, was reminded of Xie Xinchong. Coldly, he said, “So, in the end, the emperor will have Zheng Shoufang clean up the mess.”

And as one of the three officials going south, Zheng Shoufang was almost immediately confirmed to be doing just that.

“He’ll rush to destroy the key evidence!”

Xie Ci sprang to his feet. “Then we must be faster!”

The coming battle over evidence in the south would be swift and fierce.

In the depth of night, the name Zheng Shoufang rolled off Xie Ci’s tongue with a metallic tang of blood.

That night, Xie Ci rested only briefly, rising at the third watch. Gu Wan carefully disguised him, and with Li Yi, Feng Qian, and the others carrying the imperial edict, they rode out before dawn, checked in at the Ministry of Justice, and set off for the south.

Meanwhile, Gu Wan hurriedly packed, mounted, and waited with her group to join them on the main road.

The tense atmosphere made Madam Xu nervous, clutching Gu Wan’s hand tightly, while the little boy gripped his mother’s sleeve.

At dawn, Xie Ci and the others raced out of the manor on fast horses. Gu Wan watched them go, then quickly left as well, helping Xu Shi and the boy into a carriage. The night was black, and as the horses thundered away, Xu Shi climbed in, holding Gu Wan’s hand tightly before pulling the boy into the carriage.

Gu Wan swung herself onto her horse. “Let’s go!”

With one carriage and their small group, the manor was soon empty. When Feng Kun found out, he smiled faintly. “Take them if you wish.”

The journey south was a race against time. After regrouping, they pressed on day and night, by land and water, reaching Ningzhou in just eight days.

Ningzhou, the secondary capital of Great Wei, nestled by the river, its shores lined with red-tiled houses—its southern beauty and wealth went without saying. The moment the imperial inspection team arrived, they went straight to the grand granary.

The Ningzhou granary dwarfed even Yunbei’s, an enormous complex like a small city, filled with round, conical brick warehouses, all for storing grain—a stunning sight.

It was only on the road that Gu Wan and the others learned that the southern granaries had always been full. The reason for the northern famine relief being so stingy was the court’s deliberate rationing. To control the border generals and the collapse of the garrison system, the court kept a tight grip—enough to keep the borderlands alive, not enough to let them thrive.

Upon learning this truth, brothers He Yuan and He Rong were red-eyed with indignation, and the rest were equally furious.

But that was beside the point. The great granary, once packed to the brim, was now empty.

The cover-up had been blown. The chief imperial envoy was the Minister of Justice and Grand Scholar Yi Zhongling, a loyal and upright man. His face was ashen as he circled the granary, furious. “Back to the yamen at once—bring all the records!”

But Xie Ci quickly noticed, “Zheng Shoufang is missing!” He had been there just before, but was gone in a blink.

Li Yi hurried to inquire and learned Zheng Shoufang had reported illness and vanished with his trusted followers.

Only after checking the records did they learn Zheng Shuzhu was only an indirect suspect, lacking evidence. He was suspended and confined to his home, not imprisoned.

Xie Ci swept through the gates and the perimeter at lightning speed, questioning the guards, “Did you see a general in ochre armor leave?”

The guards, slouching, replied, No one, no one left.

Xie Ci tossed them a silver ingot, but the answer was the same. Clearly, Zheng Shoufang hadn’t used the main gate; he’d been prepared, taking advantage of the rule barring outsiders from the granary and the labyrinth of warehouses to slip away the moment they reached Ningzhou.

Xie Ci swept the perimeter, found a few traces, but only caught up to some abandoned horses.

Li Yi arrived, “No sign inside!”

Both men’s faces were grim. Operating openly with the official team hindered their movements; they hadn’t been able to keep Zheng Shoufang under surveillance, and in such circumstances, spies were of little use.

Gu Wan and her group, lacking official positions, weren’t permitted inside and waited outside the granary. Soon, two groups hurried over, anxious.

“What now?” someone asked, everyone on edge. Zheng Shoufang’s reckless behavior made it clear he was rushing to destroy the evidence.

“What about Zheng Shuzhu?”

Xie Ci and Li Yi had already sent men ahead on swift horses to Zheng Shuzhu’s residence. Xie Zi and Li Yi’s man, Ling Yun, returned out of breath—they’d found that the Zheng Shuzhu at the residence was an imposter. He had vanished.

“He’s an inner guard. They have ways of contacting each other!” Li Yi ground his teeth.

With that special status, he could claim to be on a secret mission and even Yi Zhongling was powerless. Even Feng Qian and Li Wang were shaken; Li Wang turned at once, “I’ll go into the city to mobilize our people!”

“But it may already be too late.”

After a hurried discussion, a few of Feng Kun’s people remained at the granary to monitor the imperial team, while Li Yi, Xie Ci, and the others followed Li Wang.

The waiting was agonizing. Li Yi and Xie Ci’s faces were both dark. Feng Qian, having just relaxed, tensed up again. After all, while outsiders might struggle to find the clues, an insider could strike precisely. With Zheng Shoufang’s arrival, everything Zheng Shuzhu couldn’t handle would be swiftly dealt with.

If Zheng Shoufang failed to clean up, he’d die—so he would stop at nothing.

“We must find Zheng Shuzhu and the evidence!” Xie Ci said.

All the contacts Li Yi and the Xie family could muster were already mobilized, but clearly, they’d be slower than Zheng Shoufang.

Li Yi paced the room restlessly. Xie Yun returned, Xie Ci went out for a moment, and Gu Wan followed him out, gripping his arm. “I have an idea—wait for me!”

Now was the time to use Yu Manzhen.

Yu Manzhen, who had followed Li Yi everywhere, was present. As soon as she’d met Gu Wan earlier, Gu Wan had warned her in a whisper. Yu Manzhen was startled and furious but dared not act out.

Gu Wan signaled her with a look. Yu Manzhen, though furious, dared not refuse.

The two women hurried to a latrine, where Gu Wan went straight to the point. “Speak quickly—I know you know about Zheng Shuzhu and the evidence!”

In her past life, Li Yi had suffered a great loss here, but later brought down the Zheng brothers using the very same grain city case. Yu Manzhen, close to Li Yi throughout, must know a great deal.

Yu Manzhen nearly screamed, “Can’t you leave me alone? I don’t know anything!”

She was terrified—how could Gu Wan know about the southern granary case? Shocked and almost undone, she glared at Gu Wan with a mix of fury and fear.

Gu Wan got straight to the point: If you don’t talk, I’ll have Li Yi question you.

“Hurry up! If you tell me, I’ll say it came from my own sources!”

Yu Manzhen, hating her to the core, gritted her teeth. She had no choice. “Zheng Shuzhu should be hiding on a flower boat on the Little Qinhuai River in Ruping. As for the account books, there’s a backup—held by someone named Sima Rong, a granary clerk. He feared being made the scapegoat and his family wiped out, so he kept a duplicate of all correspondence and records. He’s from Ruping and likely fled to Sima Manor in the mountains. Zheng Shuzhu must have gone to find him!”

Traveling with Gu Wan these days had left Yu Manzhen constantly on edge. She’d hesitated to speak, but having recently been burned by Gu Wan, she dared not act rashly.

Gu Wan, uninterested in Yu Manzhen’s feelings, dashed away the moment she had the information.

“Second Sister-in-law just got word—Zheng Shuzhu is hiding on a flower boat on the Little Qinhuai in Ruping! And the account books are with Sima Rong, a granary clerk!”

She rushed inside and announced it loudly.

Everyone in the room shot to their feet.

Now, every second counted—it was a race against Zheng Shoufang. Li Yi darted out the door, instructing Ling Yun, “Go find Li Wang and inform him!”

Xie Ci and the others vaulted out the window. At such a critical moment, even horses seemed too slow—they ran as fast as lightning, their energy focused and urgent.

Xie Ci was so fast that Qin Guan and the others struggled to keep up. Feng Qian, in his anxiety, tripped and fell flat, blood streaming from his mouth. But with the situation urgent and Li Wang gone, no one could help him.

Xie Ci glanced at him without a word of sympathy. Feng Qian was left behind.

“Useless. Just lucky,” Xie Ci said coldly.

On the surface, Xie Ci seemed unchanged, but he never missed a chance to trip up Feng Qian.

Gu Wan was exasperated. “Go ahead!” She shook off Xie Ci’s hand and hurried back to help Feng Qian up. “Are you all right? Didn’t break a tooth, did you?”

Feng Qian quickly raised his head. “I’m fine, just a scratch!”

Qin Ying vaulted over the wall, panting. Gu Wan called out, “Second Sister-in-law!” The two women flanked the bleeding Feng Qian, but even together, they weren’t fast enough and called for Xie Zi.

With a tight grip at her waist, Xie Ci returned to carry her off.

Gu Wan didn’t bother to chide him. “Hurry! Hurry up!”

They dashed to the pier, leaped onto a boat, and threw down a hefty silver ingot to speed their way to Ruping. At this point, they couldn’t afford to hide their movements—speed was everything.

A frantic pursuit and bloody carnage were about to unfold. By then, Zheng Shoufang had already reached Ruping.

Ruping, a county under Ningzhou, lay close by, with the Qinhuai River flowing through it. Its tributaries wound into the city, lantern-lit boats drifting in the night, the sounds of revelry just beginning.

At dusk, the lanterns on the flower boats were only just being lit, and the festivities were yet to start.

On a discarded barge where only servants now lived, Zheng Shoufang was furious. “Are you brainless? You emptied the entire granary! Are you tired of living?”

He was nearly beside himself with rage. From the moment he learned of it, a fire had burned within him, and he would have drawn his sword on this fool if he could.

Zheng Shuzhu wasn’t truly stupid—otherwise, Zheng Shoufang wouldn’t have trusted him with the task. He was simply too greedy, growing bolder year by year, always leaving a third of the grain as cover, and then less and less, until there was almost nothing left. But now, he’d hit a wall.

Zheng Shuzhu cowered silently, while Zheng Shoufang, his face still bruised, applied powder to his injuries.

Zheng Shoufang kicked him savagely but had no time to linger. “Speak! Quickly—tell me what’s important!”

Zheng Shuzhu stammered, “Brother, there’s another account book. That damned Sima Rong secretly kept a backup. He’s already escaped back to his hometown in Ruping, probably hiding in Sima Manor in the mountains!”

At that moment, urgent footsteps sounded outside—a trusted aide burst in. “Bad news, sir! Li Yi and Xie Ci are heading straight for Ruping! They’ve split into two groups—one by river toward our boat, one overland!”

A strong wind was blowing as the sunset vanished behind gray clouds; a torrential autumn rain was imminent.

In that instant, the hawk-nosed, shadowy man was aghast. Zheng Shoufang’s face changed dramatically. “What did you say?!”

The river wind howled, the last heat of the season blowing through the open windows into the dim cabin. Zheng Shoufang felt alternately chilled and feverish, his fury turning to cold sweat. He knew too well that if this mess wasn’t cleaned up, his fate was sealed.

His bloodshot eyes gleamed with a murderous intent. Not one of them could be allowed to live.

He barked, “Zheng Hong, Zheng Shou—you two, take men and go! At all costs, kill everyone—leave no survivors!”

Everyone who might know Sima Rong had to die.

His glare swept over Zheng Shuzhu and his trusted men. In a flash of silvery steel, four men behind Zheng Shuzhu fell dead. “If the master makes a mistake, so be it, but you didn’t warn me, nor did you report—what use are you? Fool! Move!”

Kicking Zheng Shuzhu again, Zheng Shoufang turned and sped toward Sima Manor.

Thunder rumbled—an ambush was about to descend.

The Zheng brothers’ inner guard experts were even more numerous than Xie Ci and Li Yi had anticipated.

Blood sprayed onto Gu Wan’s face and hair. She said to Xie Ci, “Go on ahead! I need to move my mother to another place!” The attack was too fierce—the original spot was no longer safe.

Xie Ci looked back. “Take Xie Feng and the others with you!”

For a moment, the dark eyes reflected the night and the blood, but also his concern, the image of her clear in their depths.

Gu Wan’s feelings surged. She was deeply attached to Xie Ci, though not yet in love. Yet, at that moment, emotion welled up unexpectedly.

“All right,” she replied, stepping forward to press her cheek briefly against his. “Be careful.” He must look after himself!

Then she hurried away, Xie Feng and the others close behind. Xie Ci had given her all his people, making himself a lone commander. She needed to return quickly.

A gust of wind brushed Xie Ci’s cheek with warmth. She was gone in an instant.

He touched his face, looked up, then, after a moment, turned back one last time to watch her retreating figure until it vanished before racing away.

Madam Xu and her son were temporarily housed on a half-worn black-topped boat, with Xie Yun and Xie Ping standing guard.

Hearing footsteps, all three rushed out.

Gu Wan, anxious and with a recently bruised knee, stumbled as she leapt onto the boat, sprawling forward. Madam Xu rushed to her side.

A woman unskilled in martial arts, she moved faster than Xie Yun or Xie Ping out of pure concern, but her haste made her trip and fall hard onto the deck—yet she caught Gu Wan.

For a moment, all three were stunned.

Gu Wan lifted her head; mother and daughter’s eyes met close, and Gu Wan could see the worry and love in Madam Xu’s gaze. She hadn’t fallen, and as Xu’s anxiety faded, a moment of joy surfaced.

It was the kind of joy mothers feel when they catch their children before they fall.

But in the next moment, Madam Xu noticed Gu Wan was covered in blood and panicked. Gu Wan quickly reassured her, “I’m fine, it’s not my blood.”

Night enveloped the river, the boat swayed gently, and the evening air was cool. As they were about to rise, Madam Xu whispered, “Don’t be angry with your mother anymore, please?”

Their faces were close, near enough to see the patterns in each other’s eyes and feel each other’s breath. Madam Xu’s eyes grew red as she spoke so softly.

—In truth, Gu Wan had always smiled, answered Madam Xu’s questions, asked after her health, and helped her in and out of carriages. She had performed her duties with care.

Yet Madam Xu sensed, with a mother’s intuition, that Gu Wan’s feelings had changed.

Gu Wan was momentarily stunned. Had Madam Xu noticed? Ever since their awkward reunion days before, she’d felt a certain trouble inside, though she hadn’t spoken of it.

She paused, her heart settling, and at last a sense of empathy surfaced.

Looking at the anxious woman before her, she exhaled softly and said, “I’m not angry anymore.” Don’t be sad.

In her heart, she sighed—oh, the sorrows of all parents.

Madam Xu smiled through her tears, and Gu Wan smiled too. She wiped her mother’s tears away. “All right, Mother, don’t cry. Let’s go.”