Chapter 74

Chapter 74: The Seventy-Fourth Story

Lian Cheng had been utterly exhausted these past two days, and before Lian Xiusheng arrived, he had fallen asleep on his own. Having just been in the imperial prison, he was plagued by nightmares all night—in his dreams, he saw those faces on the treetops, half-raw, greenish-white, white streaked with red, and red turning black, terrifying enough. Yet what truly startled him was spotting a face midway up the tree that bore an uncanny resemblance to Lian Pu, wrapped in a few bracts with half-closed eyes.

He jerked awake to find it was already the hour of the cockcrow outside. The nightmare still lingered in his mind, but the person beside him gently pinched his cheek and asked, "Third Brother, did you have a nightmare?"

Meeting Lian Xiusheng's eyes, Lian Cheng felt an inexplicable calm settle over him. Still, he couldn't bring himself to ask how the original person had dreamed of faces on a tree, since he himself wasn't the original—so why did he have the same dream?

"I'll get up now," Lian Cheng said, having rested enough over the past two days. He carried a hint of spring light as he stepped over Lian Xiusheng, slipped on his cloth shoes, and opened the door to check outside. "The rain has stopped, Xiusheng. I'll be off now."

Lian Xiusheng sat up and asked where Third Brother was going.

"To the yamen to handle a case."

When Lian Cheng returned to Penglai Pavilion, the maids and pages of the other rooms hadn't yet risen, only Qiu Mama came to help him wash and dress. As she assisted him with his clothes, she asked if she should have the kitchen send breakfast. Lian Cheng shook his head and said there was no need—"I'll just buy a bowl of dumplings outside for a few coins; they can sleep a while longer."

Qiu Mama looked at him with shrewd, laughing eyes. "A master like you, being so considerate to servants for no reason—your kindness will just make them ride roughshod over you."

"If they ride, I'll knock them off. I don't like making a fuss." Lian Cheng lowered his head as Qiu Mama adjusted his net cap and official hat. Though he had been promoted to Vice Commander of the third rank and could wear a black gauze cap, the Embroidered Uniform Guard was not the same as the civilian officials; on days when he wasn't at his post or in the emperor's presence, he still mostly wore the futou.

Third Brother of the Lian family led his horse out of the gate without disturbing anyone, heading first to the Song residence across the street. Those who had passed away were awaiting the grand day of the funeral; the house was filled with people taking turns on night watch. Lian Cheng stepped lightly to the altar, offered incense, and thought to himself, "The gentleman often cannot prevail over the petty man, hence principles are few and chaos abounds. Now I, a junior, will have to argue reason with these petty men. I pray that the Old Master will watch over and protect this junior."

Just as he placed the incense in the burner, two page boys who had been dozing behind the awning stirred and came out. Seeing it was Third Brother Lian, they greeted him one after another. "Your Excellency, are you heading to the yamen? Have you had breakfast yet?"

Lian Cheng couldn't refuse their help—they immediately set up a pot and boiled water. Remembering that the Song household had been hosting continuous banquets these past two days, making food readily available, Lian Cheng felt comfortable sitting down.

Within moments, before the noodles were ready, Song Fangyu, the young lady of the Song family, emerged from behind the awning. She was still in heavy mourning clothes, but her complexion was much better than in previous days.

After exchanging greetings, host and guest took their seats. Song Fangyu handed Lian Cheng several ledgers recording funeral gifts.

Lian Cheng quickly declined, saying he shouldn't look at them.

"Since our two families are in the same boat, it's fine for you to take a look," Song Fangyu said.

Lian Cheng then picked one volume and began reading from the beginning. Most of the names were officials and scholars he didn't recognize. This ledger seemed to record only distinguished guests—none from the common classes. The gift amounts ranged from as high as a thousand taels of silver to as low as one or two hundred. If not silver or gold, they were items like satin, tea, or wine that could serve as currency, also of considerable value.

"They're quite generous. This ledger alone must total tens of thousands of taels," Lian Cheng marveled. He knew the officials of Dayao were wealthy, but he hadn't realized they were this rich—truly, it was "taken from the people and used for my sons and grandsons."

Song Fangyu said, "It's all thanks to Your Excellency's willingness to mediate for my brother and me. Without that imperial decree, how could our household enjoy such a prosperous scene today?"

"The ruler detests defiance and favors compliance; they do all this just to curry favor with His Majesty," Lian Cheng replied, then paused. "After the Old Master and Old Madam are buried, if the silver in the ledgers is exorbitant, you should not accept it all. Keeping it at home could easily bring disaster. Instead, set aside enough for you and your brother to manage your daily needs, and pack the rest in chests. Find a pretext to offer it to His Majesty. What do you think?"

Song Fangyu had no objections. She nodded and was about to express her deep gratitude when Lian Cheng quickly supported her. "Dear sister, don't bow to me again. I haven't eaten or drunk anything, and I don't have the strength to hold you up anymore."

Just then, a page boy came bearing a bowl of noodles—a clear, simple-looking bowl. Song Fangyu said, "This noodle recipe is a specialty of the monks at a temple in Yangzhou Prefecture. First, they simmer mushroom fluff into a broth, then simmer bamboo shoots into another broth. When eating, you simply pour the hot broth over the noodles. The taste is so exquisite that even the immortal goddess would descend to earth if she tasted it."

Lian Cheng ate heartily, the flavor truly delicious. If it weren't for the murder case at hand, he would have waited until he'd eaten his fill before heading to work.

When he left, Song Fangyu personally saw him out. They encountered Lian Xiusheng, who was on his way to court. Dressed in his official robes, he was lifting the curtain to climb into his sedan chair.

Lian Cheng noticed his sixth brother's slight hesitation and instinctively felt guilty. Before he could speak, Lian Xiusheng lowered the curtain, straightened up, and gave a smile to the man and woman at the Song family gate. "Third Brother and Sister Song are a well-matched pair in looks and talent."

Song Fangyu's face flushed as she gave a slight curtsy and retreated inside. Lian Cheng hurried down the steps, warning Lian Xiusheng not to jest about people.

Lian Xiusheng only smoothed his wide sleeves, asking coolly, "Third Brother got up early—I thought it was for state affairs and security, but it turns out you came to the Song residence…"

"Listen to your tone… are you jealous?" Lian Cheng suddenly understood. He gripped his sword hilt, turned to glance at the Song family gate, then turned back to Lian Xiusheng, lowering his voice as he leaned in. "From this, it seems you have feelings for Sister Song?"

Lian Xiusheng's expression shifted from pleasure to displeasure, even more annoyed. "What then, Third Brother wants to share a wife with me?"

"Sigh," Lian Cheng said with his hands behind his back, "I am your elder brother—how could I take what you love?"

"I'm afraid I'll disappoint Third Brother. I have never had any interest in women. If Third Brother is keen, he could find me a boy to serve me. Only don't forget that my standards are high—if his appearance and bearing are inferior to Third Brother's, then don't bother."

Lian Cheng hesitated. Wouldn't that make him a pimp?

Lian Xiusheng added, "There's one more thing I should tell Third Brother: my bedroom skills are top-notch—I can satisfy a hundred people in a day with ease. If I weren't so skilled, my good nature would've gotten me killed."

"..."

-

Once inside the yamen, Lian Cheng realized Lian Xiusheng had been teasing him. Satisfying a hundred people in a day? What a joke.

Lian Cheng arrived at the yamen earliest today, but there was someone even earlier—Wei Xiaoyu. He was sweeping the rain-beaten leaves with a broom. The Southern Yamen had been turned into an office, but few people actually showed up for work. The flowers and trees, neglected, had lost their former charm.

"You're just in time," Lian Cheng said, pulling him along. "Come with me to the Wu residence."

If he went alone to that manor where someone had died, he'd be scared.

On the road, mountain fog blotted out the sky, and mud splashed beneath the horses' hooves. After riding at a brisk pace for a while, they reached the village where the Wu family lived.

The village was already filled with wisps of cooking smoke, the scenery pleasant. Wei Xiaoyu stopped at a farmhouse to ask for directions, and they set off again. The Wu family's door was sealed with official strips, and inside there was no sound of human activity. Wei Xiaoyu tore off the seals and invited Lian Cheng to enter first.

Upon stepping inside, a desolate atmosphere greeted them. The courtyard's flowers, trees, rock gardens, and water features lay in ruin; candle holders and lamp shades were scattered across the ground; curtains and hanging screens hung askew on the walls. A lean feral cat darted by, making it easy to mistake the place for an abandoned temple.

"Sir, there's blood on this!" Wei Xiaoyu pointed to a glass lamp shade on the ground.

Lian Cheng walked over. "Did the whole Wu family get killed?"

"The old and young were all killed—five people in total. Only the women were spared," Wei Xiaoyu replied. "Looks like someone wanted to wipe out the Wu bloodline."

Lian Cheng said nothing more, then walked back to behind the main gate, craning his neck to examine the door bolt and planks, as well as the flower bushes and courtyard walls on either side. He thought to himself: there were no signs of forced entry on the doors or walls, so the people must have been let in by the Wu family themselves.

Seeing the overturned, shattered plum-green celadon teacup on the table, another idea popped into Lian Cheng's head. Plum-green celadon was a vivid, jade-like green—not ordinary celadon. Being able to offer such a high-quality teacup to a guest meant the visitor was likely an honored one. And if it was an honored guest, then it must be someone familiar.

Lian Cheng then inspected several side rooms. The bodies had already been removed, leaving only traces of blood and disorder. From the bloodstained brocade quilts and the pulled-down bed curtains, he could imagine how bloody and brutal the scene had been.

Standing nearby, Wei Xiaoyu said, "Sir, on the day you were in the Imperial Prison, this case was processed through our yamen. It was said that the hearts and livers of five people were ripped out raw—one pair was smeared onto the hall's lamp shade, one pair thrown into the pond, and the remaining three pairs placed on the incense table of the Wu family ancestral hall. When the officials collected and sorted them, two sets of organs were still warm." As he spoke, his voice got excited despite himself, his face flushed, and his eyes brightened.

Lian Cheng was on edge at that moment. He turned to look at him, as if he'd seen a ghost. "What kind of expression is that?"

Wei Xiaoyu fell silent.

"Where are the bodies being kept?" Lian Cheng asked.

"Not far from here," Wei Xiaoyu replied.

The two rode on to find the place. On the way, Wei Xiaoyu informed Lian Cheng of some matters: "The locals don't know exactly what happened. When they heard that five members of the Wu family died overnight, some thought it was mountain spirits or demons causing harm, and others said the Wu family got what they deserved—vengeful spirits came to claim their lives. The village head tried everything to persuade them, but they refused to let the five corpses be placed in an empty house in the village. Luckily, the village head had a thatched hut in a nearby field to store them in, though the road is rough."

The farther they went, the rougher the road became. Lian Cheng, unwilling to get his horse Dilu dirty, dismounted and picked his way unsteadily toward the thatched hut hidden in the mountain mist.

The fields were filled with fragrant wildflowers, and the thousand peaks and countless ravines were lush with green trees. Walking along the ridge of the field, Lian Cheng carefully brushed past the wheat seedlings. Amid the various scents, he detected a hint of something burning.

A bad premonition rose in his heart. Lian Cheng hurried toward the thatched hut, but what lay before him was no hut—only a patch of ash turned to muddy paste by the rain.

But soon, Lian Cheng realized the thatched hut was secondary; the corpses inside were likely the true target. He ran to where the hut had stood, only to find several bleached, scattered skeletons—burned to nothing along with the hut.

Lian Cheng rubbed his face, walked around the area, and counted six skeletons. He froze for a moment. Since the Wu family had only yielded five corpses, whose was the extra one?

With the case unresolved, the corpses were temporarily not allowed to be claimed by the families. They were to be stored nearby, and the yamen officials or the local village head were to arrange for someone to watch over the corpses, to prevent them from being stolen by thieves or dragged off by wild animals.

Then this extra skeleton must be the guard sent to watch the bodies. Lian Cheng sighed, feeling both pain and anger in his heart—who could be so ruthless as to kill them all?

As he stood there at a loss, the sound of something slicing through the air came from behind. Lian Cheng instinctively dodged, and a flash of cold light passed before his eyes. Before he could even see who was holding the blade, the opponent twisted their wrist and swung the knife horizontally at him. Lian Cheng quickly leaned back to evade, while simultaneously drawing his own blade, meeting the opponent's double-edged blade with a sharp clang!

In that instant, countless movie scenes flashed through Lian Cheng's mind: he turns, shocked—oh? It's an old acquaintance, a former lover, and then... he falls into his arms, looks up, and yells, cries, screams... But reality is reality. Not only did Lian Cheng not recognize the attacker, but he saw: the man carried double broadaxes on his back, wore black straw sandals, stood eight feet tall with a powerful frame like a tiger or leopard, had a waist as wide as ten hand spans and a face full of coarse flesh with a fierce aura like a jackal—his mouth like a blood basin, eyes like steel needles, arms able to lift a thousand catties, legs that could sweep away an army—truly terrifying!

Lian Cheng’s heart was pounding like a drum. It was just like the saying: a green blade yet to be sharpened meets the King of Hell; even a newborn calf fears the tiger. But his courage and loyal heart remain—I hold my knife, he holds his axe!