bookpub Chapter 74: The Fragment of a Scroll and the Shadow of a Candle
Chapter 74: The Fragment of a Scroll and the Shadow of a Candle
Turning east from the warm pavilion, a winding corridor leads to a small flower hall. The hall is small, yet exquisitely crafted. All four walls are adorned with delicate, translucent lattice screens, covered with newly changed gauze curtains, faintly revealing the hazy outlines of the artificial rockery and bonsai outside. A thick, dark blue velvet carpet covers the floor, soft and silent underfoot. Near the window sits a small round table of rosewood inlaid with mother-of-pearl and two southern-style official's hat chairs. A set of celadon-glazed teaware is laid out on the table, a teapot resting on a small red clay stove, exhaling thin white steam with a clear, bubbling sound in the quiet hall. The air is filled with the aroma of freshly brewed Longjing tea, mingled with the fragrance of aloeswood emanating from a Xuande incense burner in the corner, a cool yet warm sweetness that keeps the autumn chill outside the window.
Lin Yan had been waiting in the small flower hall for a while.
He had already changed out of his indigo official robes as a seventh-rank inspector, wearing only a worn-out dark blue straight robe with a matching silk sash loosely tied around his waist. The weariness of the past few days had etched clear marks on his face. His complexion was pale from blood loss, his lips were almost bloodless, and his jawline appeared thinner and more defined than usual. Only his eyes, far from being clouded by fatigue, held a deeper, more serene light, like two ancient wells, their surface calm, yet concealing countless whirlpools and undercurrents.
He didn't sit down, but stood with his hands behind his back by the window, his gaze passing over the veil of rain-washed sky to the lanterns gradually lighting up in the courtyard outside. The lanterns were made of plain silk, covered with bamboo frames, and candlelight shone through them, spreading out soft, dim yellow halos that magnified and stretched the wrinkles on the artificial rocks, the shadows of withered lotus stems, and the swaying postures of the hibiscus bushes, projecting them onto the whitewashed walls like a silent shadow play, a tapestry of light and shadow.
He was waiting. Waiting for the girl whose eyes always held a faint melancholy.
The footsteps sounded as a gentle breeze rustled the copper bells under the eaves, making a crisp "ding-a-ling" sound. Extremely light and quick, they carried a subtle joy that the owner himself might not have noticed, different from his usual quiet steps. They approached from afar, landing on the smooth wooden floor of the corridor, like a sudden spring rain pattering on banana leaves, fine and clear.
Lin Yan turned around.
The sliding door was gently pushed open, and a slender figure stood in the doorway, her back to the deepening twilight in the corridor, her body seemingly edged with a layer of fuzzy gold. It was Su Qingyao. She was still wearing the same moon-white embroidered lotus-patterned jacket, with a matching pleated skirt, but she had hastily draped a light purple half-sleeved vest over it. Perhaps she had been in a hurry, for a few strands of her dark hair had fallen from her loosely tied bun, clinging to her smooth forehead and fair neck. She was slightly out of breath, her chest rising and falling gently with her breath. Her eyes, which were always as calm as autumn water, were now strikingly bright, as if they had absorbed all the lantern light in the corridor and the last rays of sunset, staring directly at Lin Yan's face.
Eyes facing each other.
The hall fell silent. Only the gurgling of water from the small red clay stove and the barely audible breathing of the two people could be heard. The aroma of tea and sandalwood in the air seemed to have frozen.
Su Qingyao's lips moved slightly, as if a thousand words were stuck in her throat—she wanted to ask if his injuries had improved, if he had been tired from investigating the case these past few days, if she could tell him that although she had no worries about food and clothing in the Zhou family, she always felt empty inside, and if she could talk about the worries, concerns, and those subtle and secret feelings that she herself might not be able to sort out or explain, which were like a stream thawing in spring, rushing and colliding in her heart, eager to find an outlet.
However, when she truly met Lin Yan's calm, weary yet unusually clear eyes, and saw the undisguised paleness on his face, all the turbulent words and emotions seemed to be suddenly clenched and crushed by an invisible hand, ultimately transforming into three simple words, yet seemingly exhausted, that gently escaped from her slightly trembling lips:
"You...you're here?"
Her voice was soft, with a barely perceptible huskiness, as if afraid to disturb the silence of the room, or as if it held too many unspoken words. She paused for a moment after uttering the three words, then two very faint blushes rose to her cheeks, like the last vestiges of rouge on her jade-like skin. She lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting two thick shadows beneath them, concealing the fleeting embarrassment and deeper affection that crossed her eyes.
Lin Yan's heart also trembled slightly.
That simple "You're here" was plain and even somewhat clumsy, far less articulate and sharp than her usual analysis of formations and cases. Yet, it was precisely this plainness and clumsiness that, like a fine, soft thread, silently pierced through his heart, which had become almost frozen and hardened by days of bloodshed, conspiracy, and killing, gently plucking the deepest chord. A warm, long-lost comfort, like a cup of hot tea held in the hands of a winter's day, slowly spread from his heart, soothing the weariness and chill in his limbs.
He looked at her slightly lowered head, at her ears that were red with embarrassment, at her hands that were tightly gripping her skirt, her knuckles turning white. The barren wasteland in his heart, which had been tense from investigating the bloody case and facing a powerful enemy, seemed to have quietly loosened a corner, and a tiny bit of green, belonging to the warmth of human life, sprouted.
"Yes, I'm here," he replied, his voice still low but much gentler than usual, slightly hoarse from his lingering injuries. "Lord Zhou allowed me to deliver some things, and... also to see you." He paused, his gaze falling on her face, and added, "How have you been these past few days?"
Su Qingyao raised her head, her face still flushed, but she tried her best to make her voice clear as usual: "I'm fine. Uncle Zhou and Sister Zhilan treat me very well, taking care of everything for me." As she spoke, her gaze involuntarily swept over Lin Yan's pale face, and her voice unconsciously lowered, filled with undisguised concern, "But you... how are your injuries?"
"It's just a minor injury; it will heal in a few days," Lin Yan said casually, not wanting her to worry too much. He then asked, "Are you settling in well at the manor? If you need anything or encounter any inconvenience, please tell Lord Zhou, or... have Sun Wenyuan pass on the message to me."
"I don't lack anything, really." Su Qingyao shook her head, a faint but genuine smile appearing on her lips. "Sister Zhilan often comes to keep me company, talking, playing chess, and looking at flowers. Uncle Zhou also often inquires about me. It's just..." She paused, her voice becoming even softer, "It's just that sometimes when I'm free, I always think of Blackstone Town, of what happened along the way, of..." She glanced at Lin Yan, not finishing her sentence, and instead said, "I always worry about things outside."
"Thinking about things outside?" Lin Yan understood the implication in her words. She was no ordinary woman content with her boudoir, only interested in romance and poetry. The blood feud of the Su family, her father's dying wish, and the harrowing experiences she had gone through had already tempered her will into something resilient and sharp. This seemingly peaceful mansion, to her, was perhaps more like a gentle confinement.
"Yes," Su Qingyao readily admitted, looking at him with clear eyes. "I know you're investigating cases outside, facing immense danger. Has something happened to Mo Laogui and the others?" Although she was in the inner quarters, Zhou Yan hadn't deliberately concealed the major changes within the branch from her, especially those potentially related to the Su family's old case. She had vaguely heard about the sudden deaths of Mo Laogui and the others.
Lin Yan's expression turned serious, and he nodded: "Early yesterday morning, in a heavily guarded cell, Old Ghost Mo, along with three other prisoners brought back from Black Wind Ravine, all died suddenly from poisoning. The manner of their deaths was suspicious and extremely similar to an old case from fifteen years ago."
"Fifteen years ago?" Su Qingyao's gaze sharpened, the shyness and gentleness of a young lady vanishing instantly, replaced by an almost instinctive, hunter-like alertness and sharpness. "What old case?"
Lin Yan briefly recounted his findings in the document room: "Fifteen years ago, Wu Tiankui, then the deputy head of the branch's criminal investigation department, died suddenly in his private residence. The case file recorded that his death was also marked by a bluish-black face, dark red blood seeping from his seven orifices, faint red lines appearing on his body, and the poison being difficult to detect with silver needles. His internal organs showed signs of unexplained erosion. The case was ultimately closed hastily as a 'sudden onset of a serious illness'."
Su Qingyao frowned slightly, her fingertips unconsciously pinching the lotus embroidery on her skirt: "Wu Tiankui... I think I've heard my father mention him before, his reputation seems to be bad?"
"Addicted to gambling, violent, and prone to beating and scolding his wives and concubines," Lin Yan said in a deep voice. "His first wife died in sorrow, and he later took a concubine named Liu Qiqi, who came from Liu Family Village outside the city. According to the old clerk Zhou Yunqi, rumors circulated that Liu Qiqi, unable to endure it any longer, had an affair with Wu Tiankui's apprentice, who is now Zhao Kun, the head constable."
"Zhao Kun?!" Su Qingyao's pupils contracted slightly. This name was now inextricably linked to Liu Xiong in her mind; both were the most suspicious masterminds behind the Su family massacre. "And then?"
"After Wu Tiankui's sudden death, Zhao Kun took good care of Liu Qiqi, keeping her as a mistress. But several years later, in order to climb the social ladder, Zhao Kun married into a wealthy family and abandoned Liu Qiqi. When his new wife found out, she brought people to Liu Qiqi's house and... disfigured her." Lin Yan's voice was calm, yet she clearly depicted the tragedy. "Fearing that things would escalate, Zhao Kun ordered his men to forcibly send her back to her hometown, Liu Family Village, and after that, there was no news of her, and her fate was unknown."
Su Qingyao remained silent for a moment. The candlelight danced on her delicate profile, casting flickering light in her eyes. She slowly exhaled, her voice turning cold: "What a 'sentimental' disciple, what a 'climbing the social ladder' head constable. If this Liu Qiqi is truly involved in Wu Tiankui's death, knows many of Zhao Kun's secrets, and harbors the hatred of being disfigured and abandoned... her resentment towards Zhao Kun is something even the waters of the Three Rivers and Five Lakes could not wash away."
"Exactly." A hint of admiration flashed in Lin Yan's eyes. Su Qingyao's quick thinking and accurate deductions always seemed to resonate with him, and sometimes even provided valuable insights. "Liu Family Village is located in a remote area. If Liu Qiqi is truly still alive, hiding in the countryside, she might be a thorn in Zhao Kun's side that he can't get rid of. She is also the key to uncovering the truth behind Wu Tiankui's sudden death back then, and even the clues to the poisoning of Mo Laogui and others today. I plan to personally go to Liu Family Village to investigate first thing tomorrow morning."
"You're going?" Su Qingyao immediately looked up at him, her worry undisguised. "Your injury..."
"It's alright," Lin Yan interrupted her, his tone firm. "This matter should be handled sooner rather than later. Since Zhao Kun dared to kill someone in the branch's inner courtyard to silence them, his methods are ruthless and decisive, so he must already be on guard. He might very well have thought of Liu Qiqi as a lead. If we go too late, things might change."
Knowing his mind was made up and that dissuasion was futile, Su Qingyao said no more, and instead asked, "You just said that the poison Mo Laogui suffered from was similar to the poison Wu Tiankui suffered from back then? Is it possible that it was the same person who did it? Or the same poison?"
"The poison's composition is bizarre, likely a complex blend of several rare herbal toxins, difficult to identify using ordinary methods," Lin Yan pondered. "I have some knowledge of identification methods and have detected traces of 'Yinming Moss,' 'Red Heart Bone-Rotting Grass,' and 'Soul-Guiding Sandalwood Ash,' but after these three are combined and transformed, their properties are different. Whether they were prepared by the same person is still uncertain. However, the reappearance of such a unique and complex poisoning method after fifteen years is no coincidence. The person who prepared this poison must be inextricably linked to Wu Tiankui's death back then, and it is very likely... still has intricate connections with Zhao Kun, and even Liu Xiong behind him."
"Concocting poisons, especially such rare and complex ones, takes time and requires specific materials and a suitable environment," Su Qingyao interjected, her thoughts clear. "If we can find Liu Qiqi, we might be able to ask her how she obtained the poison back then, or where and through whom she got it. Behind this might lie clues about that 'mysterious person.'" The "mysterious person" she referred to was naturally the one who taught the blood refining method and wore a black thumb ring.
Lin Yan nodded: "That's right. Liu Qiqi is a key link. In addition," he turned his gaze to the package carefully wrapped in blue cloth on the corner of the round table, "I went to the document room today, and besides looking up Wu Tiankui's old case, I also specifically found several case files that your father, Lord Su, had reviewed back then."
Upon hearing this, Su Qingyao trembled slightly, her gaze suddenly falling on the blue cloth wrapping, as if it contained not cold pages, but the last breath and warmth of her father remaining in the world. Her throat tightened, and she asked in a low voice, "Father's...case file?"
"Yes." Lin Yan walked over, untied the blue cloth, revealing several volumes of yellowed, worn-out files. He gently pushed them in front of Su Qingyao. "Qingyao, do you know why I specifically went to look at the files your father had reviewed?"
Su Qingyao shook her head, but her gaze remained fixed on the familiar, neat handwriting that belonged to her father.
Lin Yan's voice slowly echoed in the silent hall, carrying a calm and analytical strength: "Before a person makes a major decision or gets caught up in a huge vortex, their mental journey is often not instantaneous. It's more like a trickle of water, formed by countless seemingly insignificant 'coincidences' and 'clues,' eventually breaching the dam and forming a torrent. Your father is an upright man, dedicated to his duties. His decision to delve into the 'Blood Crystal Stone' and even the possible mole within Qingzhou Prefecture, or even higher-level secrets, must have been based on the large amount of official business he handled and the numerous cases he encountered on a daily basis."
He picked up the top volume, opened it, and pointed to a note in vermilion ink: "Look here. Autumn of the ninth year of Hongguang. A hunter from Black Stone Town in Canglang Mountain reported to the branch headquarters that he had witnessed a demon wolf driving a corpse in the mountains and refining it under the moonlight using a strange ritual, producing a dark red crystal that looked like a gemstone but emitted an evil aura. Your Majesty instructed: 'Instruct Zhao Mang, the captain of the Demon Suppression Division of Black Stone Town, to investigate immediately and report in detail.'"
Su Qingyao leaned closer to examine it, her fingertips tracing the two characters "Zhao Mang" written forcefully on the paper by her father. Lin Yan turned to the attached reply: "This is Zhao Mang's reply: 'After a thorough investigation of the area reported by Canglang Mountain, no trace of the demon wolf's corpse or the red crystals was found. The hunter who reported the incident spoke vaguely and appeared panicked, suggesting that he was a mountain dweller who saw ordinary minerals or wild animals reflecting light and spread rumors. He has been admonished and ordered not to spread rumors again and disturb the local area.'"
Lin Yan then turned to the second volume: "In the winter of the eleventh year of the Hongguang reign, five ragged refugees claiming to be from Black Stone Town in Canglang Mountain arrived at the branch headquarters, crying and pleading for justice. They said that someone in Black Stone Town was secretly colluding to lure or forcibly abduct unregistered refugees and send them deep into the mountains to feed demon wolves. Your father commented: 'This matter involves human lives and is no small matter. Order Chen Fuhai, the mayor of Black Stone Town, together with Zhao Mang, the captain of the Demon Suppression Division, to thoroughly investigate and report in detail. There must be no errors.'"
Attached is a joint reply from Chen Fuhai and Zhao Mang: "...Upon receiving the order, we summoned the relevant village heads, elders, and those accused by the involved refugees for detailed investigation and questioning. The investigation revealed that the allegations of 'abducting refugees and feeding them to wolves' are entirely fabricated. All those making the accusations can provide alibis, and the details they provide are contradictory. The five refugees are of unknown identity, spoke vehemently, and are suspected of inciting public sentiment and falsely accusing innocent people. They have been expelled, and patrols in Heishi Town have been strengthened to reassure the people."
"Once again, nothing was found." Su Qingyao's voice was slightly cold. "Chen Fuhai and Zhao Mang are birds of a feather."
The third volume was thicker, and the paper looked older. Lin Yan carefully opened it, his expression solemn: "In the spring of the fourteenth year of Hongguang, Zhang Tianpu, the then inspector of the Demon Suppression Division of Qingzhou Prefecture, together with a deputy general of the Qingzhou Prefecture city defense army, led elite troops to Black Wind Ravine to wipe out the 'demon bandits' who were beginning to show signs of trouble. Unexpectedly, they encountered a well-prepared ambush and suffered heavy losses. The deputy general was killed on the spot, and Zhang Tianpu was seriously wounded. He was rescued by his personal guards at the cost of his life and brought back to the branch."
Su Qingyao held her breath and examined the file closely. The file recorded the horrific casualty figures and a description of the circumstances surrounding Zhang Tianpu's return. The last few lines, the ink seemingly messy due to the recorder's agitation, read: "In his final moments, Lord Zhang grasped the hand of Chief Clerk Zhou Yan and uttered only eight words in broken sentences—'Blood Crystal Stone…Qingzhou Prefecture…There is a traitor!' With that, he breathed his last."
Attached to the document is a copy of an urgent official document jointly signed by Zhou Yan and Su Yuanshan, submitted to the headquarters of the Demon Suppression Division. The document details the defeat at Black Wind Ravine, Zhang Tianpu's last words, and clearly points out that the mystery surrounding the "Blood Crystal Stone" is related to possible collusion between "insiders" within Qingzhou Prefecture. It requests that the headquarters dispatch a special agent or authorize a branch to thoroughly investigate all officials in Qingzhou Prefecture in order to purge the treacherous officials and prevent future troubles.
The headquarters' reply was on a separate page, stamped with the bright red seal of the Minister, the handwriting stern and firm: "Investigations must be based on solid evidence; baseless accusations only sow discord. Qingzhou Prefecture is a vital town in the southeast; safeguarding the territory and ensuring the safety of the people is of utmost importance. You should take Zhang Tianpu's defeat as a warning, reorganize your subordinates, strengthen patrols, and refrain from making unfounded speculations, slandering colleagues, and causing unrest in the region! — Minister of the Demon Suppression Division, Zhao Yuankui."
"Zhao Yuankui..." Su Qingyao murmured the name, her heart sinking. The Demon Suppression Division of the Dayin Dynasty, ostensibly in charge of matters concerning demons and evil spirits, also held the power to monitor local officials. Her father and Uncle Zhou's joint request to investigate officials in Qingzhou Prefecture was legally and professionally sound. However, the reply from the Grand Secretary Zhao Yuankui was so forceful and clearly oppressive, even accusing him of "slandering colleagues" and "causing unrest in the region."
"The last one," Lin Yan picked up the bottom volume, which also had relatively new paper. "This is a case handled by the branch less than half a year before your father's accident. Summer of the 22nd year of Hongguang. The branch seized a cargo ship bound for the capital, Tianqi City, at the Qingzhou Prefecture dock, suspected of human trafficking, and rescued dozens of abducted girls. During the search of the ship's cabin, a sandalwood box about a foot square was found in an extremely hidden compartment."
He opened the file, which contained a rough sketch of a wooden box and a description of its contents: "The box was lined with black velvet, on which were neatly arranged twenty-four dark red crystals, each the size of a pigeon egg and cut into regular polyhedral shapes. The crystals were warm to the touch, yet faintly exuded a chilling aura. Upon examination by cultivators, the energy they contained was strangely pure, far surpassing that of ordinary spirit stones. However, their nature was sinister and violent, something that no natural spiritual object could possess. When the ship owner was captured, he showed no fear, but instead laughed loudly, saying, 'None of you... will survive!' He then bit into a poison sac hidden in his mouth and died instantly. The trail ended there."