Chapter 31

Just as the atmosphere in the room grew unbearably awkward, Bu Tong returned holding a wooden box.

It was a small box, roughly the size of a palm, secured with a tiny lock. Its entire body was black, decorated with golden peonies.

After glancing at it, Jiang Ruoyi cast a faint look at Lin Qing, then unhooked a red cord from around her neck. Hanging from it was a small jade whistle, identical to the one Jiang Ruonan possessed, save for the character engraved on the bottom: "Yi."

"This whistle was carved by my father himself. Every child of the Jiang family has one; barring any accidents, we never take them off." As she spoke, Jiang Ruoyi pushed the tip of the small whistle into the lock's keyhole and gave it a twist. With a click, the lock sprang open.

Lin Qing: "..."

How was she supposed to clarify that she really held no improper intentions toward Jiang Ruonan? She had only kept the whistle because the young girl was so endearing and she had been concerned for her reputation, failing to return it in public. Later, with so many things happening, she had simply forgotten...

Jiang Ruoyi opened the box to reveal a letter inside. The interior of the box was coated with kerosene, and there was a small mechanism.

Zhou Fusheng coughed lightly, breaking the strange tension. "This mechanism is truly ingenious. If not for the key, the contents would have burned to ash along with the box."

Bu Tong, ignorant of such things, hadn't thought much of it when he saw how light the box was initially; he hadn't expected it to conceal such a secret.

Jiang Ruoyi opened the letter and laid it on the table. It contained only four characters: "All is well, do not worry."

Jiang Ruoyi heaved a sigh of relief. She had been so worried that she hadn't slept for days, and faint dark circles now shadowed her eyes. "This is my father's handwriting."

Lin Qing stared at the letter, feeling that this family missive seemed somewhat abrupt. If it only contained those four words, why couldn't it have been delivered to the Jiang estate? Why did it need to be locked in such a box?

She reached out to touch the quality of the paper, confirming it was quite ordinary. She then picked up the box to inspect it closely. Sure enough, in the bottom right corner of the lid, there was a tiny mark shaped like a flame forming the character "Shan" (Mountain).

"Look at this." She pointed to the mark, which was smaller than a fingernail.

"This is... Uncle Weishan's mark," Jiang Ruoyi recognized it immediately. "His name is Zhang Weishan. His ancestors were craftsmen, and many of the mechanisms in my home were made by his hand. Everything he creates bears this mark."

Bu Tong scratched his head in confusion. "Weishan left the military camp long ago. What does this have to do with him?"

Lin Qing said, "I suspect the Duke of Zhen meant for us to find this man. As for why, I fear we shall only know once we find him."

Bu Tong hurried to say, "Zhang Weishan lives at the west end of the city now. I will take you there."

"I will not be going," Zhou Fusheng said, lowering his head to hide his disappointment. When he looked up again, his expression had returned to its usual gentleness. "The journey has been exhausting, and my injured leg is aching. I won't go along to join the bustle."

Lin Qing opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to persuade Zhou Fusheng not to give up, but she felt it would be easy for her to speak while not the one suffering. Since she wasn't the one disabled, what right did she have to dictate his actions?

Zhou Fusheng smiled. "Do not worry about me. I am fine, really. I am just tired."

"Very well, I will have the maids arrange a guest room for you to rest," Jiang Ruoyi said, assigning several trusted servants to see to Zhou Fusheng's needs.

Lin Qing paused, then shot a complex look at Jiang Ruoyi's trousers. "Young Master Jiang, you should go change your clothes as well."

Jiang Ruoyi stiffened. She followed Lin Qing's gaze downward, and suddenly realizing something, her face turned deathly pale. She hurried out of the room.

After Bu Tong finished making arrangements, Lin Qing sat in the carriage and waited for a good while before Jiang Ruoyi appeared. The space inside the carriage was cramped, so Jiang Ruoyi stiffened slightly and chose to sit on Lin Qing's left, whispering an explanation: "I was injured, and I don't know how the blood got onto those clothes."

"I see." Lin Qing nodded, letting the matter drop. They were both women forced to dress as men to survive; there was no need to make things difficult for each other. Each had their own hardships.

Lin Qing's magnanimity and lack of questioning made Jiang Ruoyi feel a bit embarrassed. After a moment of thought, she suddenly asked, "Does Officer Lin truly like that girl, Ruonan?"

"...It is not what you think." Lin Qing recounted the events of that day. Back at Prince Rui's manor, Jiang Ruonan had suddenly shoved the whistle at her. She hadn't reacted in time, and by the time she did, the girl had already run off. Given her own status, if she had chased after Jiang Ruonan to return the whistle, she feared the girl's reputation would be ruined by the next day, leaving her with no choice but to marry her. But she was a woman—she lacked the necessary equipment for that!

Jiang Ruoyi understood, and she felt even worse. She had thought her sister was being abducted by a lover, but it turned out her sister had taken a fancy to this young officer, and the officer had absolutely no such intentions.

After struggling with the thought for a while, she asked, "Officer Lin, what do you think of my sister?"

Lin Qing: "..." She suddenly felt like she was being set up.

"To be honest..." Lin Qing gritted her teeth. "I have a hidden ailment. I can never marry in this lifetime."

Jiang Ruoyi, who had intended to play matchmaker, gave up immediately. Her gaze toward Lin Qing became tinged with pity. "I know a few doctors who are quite good with such matters. Shall I introduce them to you, Officer Lin?"

Lin Qing felt exhausted. What else could she say? "I am still young; there is no need." After all, she lacked the "extra baggage," so even the most miraculous doctor would be useless.

Jiang Ruoyi said earnestly, "Do not worry, Officer Lin, I will keep your secret."

Lin Qing: *I thank you so much.*

The carriage swayed, and soon they reached an alley in the west of the city. Bu Tong parked the carriage and opened the door for them to disembark. Jiang Ruoyi walked to the door and knocked: three long raps, two short, two long. It was a secret signal of the Duke of Zhen's estate, informing Zhang Weishan that people from the estate had arrived.

However, the three of them waited outside for a long time without hearing a sound. Night had already fallen. The sky was gloomy, with only a few sparse stars hanging above. They waited a while longer, but still, there was no movement.

"This is not right," Jiang Ruoyi frowned. "Usually, he would open the door within half a quarter of an hour."

"Something is wrong!" Lin Qing's nose twitched; the night wind carried a faint, bloody stench. Suddenly alarmed, she kicked the door open. In the courtyard, a headless corpse lay before the door.

"That is Weishan's clothing!" Bu Tong trembled as he ran to the body, tears streaming down his face. "Who could be so ruthless as to leave Weishan without a complete body?"

"Uncle Weishan!" Jiang Ruoyi ran to the corpse, her eyes red, her voice choked with sobs. "How could this happen? How..."

Lin Qing was also in disbelief. She took a deep breath and walked to the body. Zhang Weishan’s head had been severed with a single sword stroke; the cut was clean and smooth, and there wasn't even much blood. Other than that, there were no other signs of struggle.

"Look at this!" Bu Tong pried open the corpse's hand, revealing a strand of red thread clutched in its palm.

Lin Qing took the thread and rubbed it between her fingers. "It feels delicate and smooth. This is silk, and of very high quality."

Bu Tong wiped his eyes, his sockets raw. "But what use is a few strands of red thread?"

Lin Qing shook her head. No matter how keen her mind was, she couldn't deduce anything from a bit of red thread. She was no Di Renjie; she wasn't that miraculous.

Bu Tong gritted his teeth, his voice filled with hatred. "I will catch the killer and avenge Weishan!"

"Uncle Weishan cannot die in vain." Jiang Ruoyi wiped her tears and helped Bu Tong arrange the body. Seeing Lin Qing standing to the side, lost in thought, she asked, "Officer Lin, what are you thinking about?"

"I am wondering where his head went," Lin Qing replied.

There were many ways to kill, and since Zhang Weishan was only a craftsman and, as Jiang Ruoyi said, had only average martial arts skill, there were many ways to dispatch him. If the killer had poor skills, the wound on Zhang Weishan's neck wouldn't be as smooth as a mirror; it would have been jagged. If the killer were highly skilled—like her—they could have finished him with one sword stroke without needing to decapitate him. It was an unnecessary act.

Lin Qing couldn't figure it out. She asked, "May I go inside and have a look?"

"There are mechanisms in Uncle Weishan's house. I will go deactivate them first." Jiang Ruoyi went in ahead to disable the traps, then allowed Lin Qing and Bu Tong to enter.

Zhang Weishan's home was small: three main rooms, one for living, one for the kitchen, and one for work. The workspace was piled with wood, and against the wall stood a shelf displaying small wooden sculptures of animals.

"This is for show," Jiang Ruoyi explained. She moved a few of the sculptures, and with a click, the shelf and the wall behind it sprang open to reveal a hidden door.

Jiang Ruoyi took an oil lamp and led the way into the darkness. Lin Qing followed, while Bu Tong stayed behind to guard the body. The stairs spiraled down into the dark, with no end in sight, save for the small light held by Jiang Ruoyi. Lin Qing followed casually, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. With the slightest exertion, she could draw her blade to meet any threat.

When they reached the bottom of the last step, they were suddenly plunged into light, as if they had entered another world. It was a suite of rooms. Compared to the cluttered wooden carvings outside, the objects here were more exquisite and far more dangerous. Within moments, she had spotted at least five types of weapons: swords, axes, halberds, crossbows, and more, with scattered wood and iron scraps on the floor. Every item bore the same tiny "Shan" mark resembling three flames.

Further in was a complete workbench, even including a furnace for forging iron. The fire in the furnace was burning brightly, and a sword inside had already turned red-hot. Lin Qing prodded the sword; it seemed Zhang Weishan had been forging it when he met his end.

The underground chamber was deathly quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the flames in the furnace. Though overcome with grief, Jiang Ruoyi did not lose her composure. "Although I can enter this place, I do not know where Uncle Weishan would have hidden things."

"Look there." Lin Qing pointed to the innermost wall, where a shelf spanned almost the entire wall, covered in various small trinkets. Among them sat one that looked very similar to the box in Jiang Ruoyi's hand.