Chapter 3 Seeking Answers

Chapter 3: Asking About the Crime

The young master of the Fuhai Restaurant was named Qian Chuan, with a reputation for loving to gamble, drink, and chase women.

These past few days, he had a feeling something was off.

"Qian Lai, do you hear something?" On his way to Liuxiang Lane, Qian Chuan suddenly stopped and grabbed his servant and asked.

The servant looked confused. "What sound? Are you asking about the peddler's hawking, Young Master?"

The city had no curfew, and the bustle after nightfall was no less than during the day.

"The sound of hoofbeats, it's hoofbeats!" Qian Chuan insisted.

The servant pricked up his ears and listened hard. All sorts of noises filled his ears, a chaotic, noisy racket, but he heard no hoofbeats.

"No, I don't—"

Qian Chuan grew anxious. "What do you mean, none? I heard it yesterday too!"

Seeing his young master's troubled expression, the servant hesitated before asking, "Young Master, perhaps you're overthinking it—"

Qian Chuan's expression changed.

A while back, a young master surnamed Han had arrived from the capital. The sons of local officials flocked around him, accompanying him everywhere for fun. Qian Chuan had spent lavishly to join their circle. That day, on their way back from hunting, Master Han ran someone over with his horse, and the person was said to have died. Master Han soon returned to the capital, and the officials' sons acted as if nothing had happened, but Qian Chuan felt unsettled and stayed holed up at home for many days before going out.

These past few days, walking on the street, he always seemed to hear hoofbeats. Could he really just be imagining things?

"Maybe I misheard. Let's go." Afraid the story would get around and his companions would laugh at his cowardice, Qian Chuan pushed his doubts aside.

Liuxiang Lane was just ahead, where red lanterns now glowed one by one, and a faint smell of perfume and powder drifted on the breeze.

Qian Chuan took a deep breath of the intoxicating fragrance and quickened his pace.

In a small building within the lane, a familiar courtesan served him tea and wine, her soft, warm body close.

Qian Chuan fell asleep contentedly.

*Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop...*

In the middle of the night, Qian Chuan suddenly opened his eyes, propped himself up, and looked around in panic, searching for the source of the sound. When his gaze fell on one spot, his eyes went wide.

Not far from the head of the bed a figure stood silently. Its face—it had no face, only hair!

"Ah—" Qian Chuan opened his mouth to scream but found his voice stuck in his throat, couldn't make a sound.

The figure approached him. There were no footsteps, only a faint smell of blood that wafted into Qian Chuan's nose. Terrified out of his wits, Qian Chuan's teeth chattered as he forced out a few words with difficulty. "G-ghost... ghost..."

A pale, icy hand reached out and closed around Qian Chuan's neck.

"Why did you run me over... why..."

"N-no, it wasn't me..." Qian Chuan was crying and shaking all over.

"Then—who—was—it?" The hand, like an iron band, loosened slightly, the voice enunciating each word slowly.

Qian Chuan gasped for air, all reason lost to terror. "He's surnamed Han, his father is a Senior Official in the capital... If you want to claim a life, go to the capital and find him! It has nothing to do with me, nothing!"

That hand brushed past Qian Chuan's face, carrying a chill and a barely perceptible fragrance. Qian Chuan's eyes, brimming with fear, closed, and he fell back onto the soft bed.

As dawn broke, Qian Chuan sat up abruptly and saw the courtesan sleeping beside him.

The fear receded like a tide, leaving only shadows and confusion in his heart.

"Was it just a dream?" Qian Chuan murmured.

The courtesan woke at the commotion and draped her slender arm over Qian Chuan's shoulder. "Young Master Qian, what's wrong?"

Qian Chuan stared fixedly at the courtesan. "Did you hear any noises last night?"

"No, I didn't—"

Qian Chuan suddenly thought of something, pushed the courtesan away, and rushed to the dressing mirror.

In the mirror, the man's face was deathly pale, with a distinct, intermittent blue mark on his neck.

It wasn't a dream! There was a ghost, there really was a ghost!

Qian Chuan's scalp prickled. He grabbed his clothes, threw them on, and rushed out.

"Young Master Qian, Young Master Qian—"

The courtesan was utterly confused. She never saw Qian Chuan come again after that.

The next day, while cleaning the room, a maid picked up a hairpin from behind the screen.

"Miss, the hairpin you were looking for yesterday was here all along."

"I didn't take it off when I went to sleep the night before last. When I got up to dress yesterday, I found it missing. How could it have fallen there..." the courtesan said casually, not thinking much of it.

In the city, the young master of the Fuhai Restaurant grew increasingly emaciated from fright, while in Yunfeng Village, the young girl who visited her parents' graves daily grew quieter and quieter.

One day, after Qiu Heng finished kowtowing before the graves, Aunt Wang gently advised, "It's good that you are filial, Miss, but if you grieve yourself every day, it will only worry your foster parents in the netherworld."

For over a month, this child had gone up the mountain at dawn and returned only at dusk. Her bond with her foster parents was truly deep.

"I understand," Qiu Heng said softly.

During their time together, she could sense Aunt Wang's sincerity.

"It's good that you've come to understand, Miss. Let's go down the mountain."

At the foot of the mountain, Steward Qiu had long grown impatient. Seeing Aunt Wang and Fang Zhou accompanying Qiu Heng down, he said indifferently, "Please get in the carriage, Sixth Miss. It's time to depart."

The carriage gradually left the village behind. Once on the main road, it picked up speed.

...

At Earl Yongqing's residence, a maid entered to deliver a message. "Madam, the carriage fetching Sixth Miss has reached the outskirts of the city."

The Countess of Yongqing nodded and gave orders. "When she arrives, bring her directly here. No need to alert others for now."

Although Steward Qiu's letter confirmed her identity, she still had doubts. She would discuss other matters after seeing her with her own eyes.

The carriage entered through the side gate of Earl Yongqing's residence and stopped before the *chuihua* gate. Qiu Heng was led into Qiansong Hall.

The Dowager Countess scrutinized the young girl who bowed her head in greeting. "I heard you are called A Heng."

"Yes."

"You may rise."

Qiu Heng stood up and lifted her gaze, her eyes falling upon an elderly woman with a long face.

With just one glance, the Old Madam knew there was no mistake.

It was simple: the girl before her was almost the spitting image of her late third daughter-in-law, Lady Du.

After looking over the sachet and baby clothes the steward had presented, the Old Madam of course had no memory of them. She asked Aunt Wang a few questions, then instructed the maids to pass the word to the other courtyards.

People gradually filed in, and the Hall of a Thousand Pines became crowded.

"This is your Eldest Aunt, your father's eldest sister-in-law."

The eldest madam, Lady Zhao, took Qiu Heng's hand with a smile. "You look just like your mother, my third sister-in-law."

After receiving the eldest madam's gift for this first meeting, Qiu Heng then bowed to the second madam, Lan Shi.

Lan Shi was not as warm as Lady Zhao and spoke little.

Qiu Heng recalled Aunt Wang's subtle hints: the eldest madam was sweet-faced but bitter-hearted, while the second madam did not stir up trouble.

She wouldn't take Aunt Wang's words as absolute truth. She would find out in time how things truly were.

Next came exchanging greetings with her cousins.

The second young lady, Qiu Xuan, was elegant and quiet, the only girl from the second branch. The third young lady, Qiu Yun, had a face like a silver platter, and together with the fifth young lady, Qiu Ying, who had a heart-shaped face, they were both daughters of the eldest branch by concubines. The fourth young lady, Qiu Fu, was the most beautiful among the sisters and was born to the eldest madam.

Qiu Heng had also learned from Aunt Wang that the eldest young lady, who shared the same mother as the fourth young lady, Qiu Fu, had entered the palace years ago.

Having received a pile of handkerchiefs and hairpins, Qiu Heng took the sachets prepared in advance from Fang Zhou and presented them as return gifts one by one.

The fourth young lady, Qiu Fu, held the sachet and smiled. "I didn't expect Sixth Sister to have prepared return gifts. It really wasn't necessary."

Qiu Heng smiled in return.

"Your grandfather and the others are not at home. You can meet them when they return. We've already sent someone to call your father—"

Before the Old Madam finished speaking, the curtain was lifted, and a maid's voice rang out, "The Old Master has returned!"

Qiu Heng's gaze swept over the several young ladies of the Qiu family and landed on the face of the elderly man at the doorway.

So this was the famous Earl Yongqing, who sold his granddaughter for glory.