Jiang Li stepped out from the inner chamber, and at once all eyes in the hall turned toward her.
Madam Liu gestured toward a young man. “Miss Xue, this is my son, Yunheng.”
Fu Yunheng studied her in astonishment, then bowed with clasped hands. “I have long heard of your famed name. They say you can snatch life back from the brink of death, and that your bearing is as graceful as your reputation. Now I see it is true. May I ask, how fares my elder sister?”
Jiang Li returned the courtesy. “Miss Fu’s injury has damaged her heart meridian. She lost too much blood. I have already applied needles and medicine to preserve her life. If she wakes within three hours, she will be safe. If not… then it must be left to fate.”
Fu Yunheng paled at her words. Madam Liu quickly pointed to another man. “This is Pei Yan, heir of Duke Pei. You have just returned to Chang’an, so perhaps you have not yet heard his name. Two months ago, he was appointed as Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.”
Jiang Li looked toward Pei Yan. In the instant their gazes met, a taut string seemed to tighten within her heart.
Pei Yan hailed from the illustrious Pei clan, famed as the ‘House of Five Prime Ministers.’ His father, Pei Su, had once served as Military Governor of Annan before his death; his mother was Princess Li Han of Gaoyang. Noble blood ran in his veins. At ten, he composed the celebrated *Essay on Carefree Wandering*. At eleven, he stood in the Hall of State and, single-handedly, debated three great scholars of Southern Qi, earning Emperor Jingde’s praise for his brilliance and poise, and the imperial bestowal of the courtesy name “Hechen.” In his youth, he also apprenticed under the foremost martial sect, the Lingxiao Sword School, becoming the prized disciple of its master, Xie Yao.
Such a prodigy, excelling in both letters and arms, had once been the dream husband of Chang’an’s noble daughters and the model admired by the sons of officials. When Jiang Li entered the Bailu Academy at thirteen, Pei Yan, then sixteen, was already there—not as a student, but retained by the headmaster to lecture.
The lofty gentleman of old overlapped with the elegant figure before her now. Jiang Li lowered her gaze, offering a distant salute. “I have only just returned and had not heard. Greetings, Assistant Minister Pei.”
Pei Yan inclined his head politely, his eyes calm and deep.
Fu Yunheng, still anxious for his sister, burst out, “Her wound is fatal—it must be that butcher! It can only be him!”
Fearing Jiang Li might not understand, he explained: “You may not yet have heard. For half a year now, Chang’an has been plagued by a cruel serial killer. He strikes unseen, targeting brides-to-be. Five young women have already fallen victim. Each was soon to be wed, yet vanished while out, only to be found half a month later—dismembered, their remains scattered. His methods are so vicious that the people call him the ‘Bride Butcher.’ My sister’s wedding day was near. We thought her guards sufficient, yet still disaster struck…”
Jiang Li asked quietly, “Was it the guards’ negligence?”
Fu Yunheng shook his head. “My sister is devout. Today was the birthday of the Celestial Lord of Salvation, so she set out at noon for Yuzhen Temple. She took her maids, Dan Feng and Mo Mei, and eight guards. But weapons are forbidden inside, so only she and the two maids entered. The ritual ended by mid-afternoon, yet she wished to visit the newly built stele forest—over a hundred ancient steles brought from Mount Sanqing last October. She sent Dan Feng to borrow paper and brush from the monks.”
He sighed bitterly. “When Dan Feng returned, my sister urged them to hurry with the rubbings, so the three split up. The sky was overcast, though snow had not yet fallen. At first, there were still a few visitors, but after two hours, the place grew silent. The maids grew uneasy and went to find her—only to discover she had vanished without a trace…”
“They searched the forest, asked the monks, questioned the guards. None had seen her. The monastery has three gates—north, west, and the main entrance. They thought perhaps she had left another way and searched nearby, but after half an hour found nothing.”
“Realizing something was wrong, they rushed back to report. My father and I hurried there, but by then, night had fallen. And in the darkness, we found her—collapsed in the bamboo grove behind the monastery, gravely wounded, her clothes disheveled. We carried her home at once and tried to save her…”
Jiang Li’s eyes narrowed. “You searched that grove before?”
Fu Yunheng nodded, perplexed. “We had, before nightfall. Later, not knowing where else to look, we searched again—and only then found her. After feeding her a heart-tonic pill, she finally woke. But she was too terrified, her mind confused. We could learn nothing coherent. Still, from her broken words, it is certain she was attacked.”
Jiang Li asked, “From what you’ve said, aside from the chest wound, what proves it was the Bride Butcher?”
“That is why we beg your help.”
Pei Yan, who had listened in silence, now spoke in a steady voice. Meeting Jiang Li’s gaze, his tone softened. “You have already treated Miss Fu. Could you describe her wound—the shape, the features? Might you judge the weapon from it? And did she bear any other suspicious marks? If the injuries can be traced to their cause, it would be invaluable.”
At the Court of Judicial Review, examinations of wounds were usually handled by official coroners. But today’s circumstances made it impossible to summon one into the Fu residence—and as men, they could not approach the patient. Thus, the famed “Magnolia Hand” happened to be the one called upon to judge the injuries.
Recalling Fu Yunci’s frail, dying state, Jiang Li steadied herself and said, “Her fatal wound lies on the left side of her chest, slanting downward. The cut is an inch and a half long, shaped like a boat…”
Pei Yan gently reminded her, “The more detailed, the better.”
Jiang Li’s gaze darkened as she described more carefully: “The lower end of the wound gapes wider than the upper. Inside, it is deeper below and shallower above. The wound is very deep—bone is visible—yet the inner walls are smooth. The killer struck only once.”
“A ring of bruising surrounds the wound, as though the knife was driven in to the hilt, leaving the mark of the handle. The blade’s length is nearly the depth of the wound itself…”
She paused, then declared firmly: “Three inches. The knife was no longer than three inches and single-edged. The assailant must have stabbed downward from above, which caused the uneven depth. Such a short blade is likely a carving knife, a paper-cutter, or some other small, handy tool. Moreover, Miss Fu bears many abrasions and bruises. From the scratches on her legs, it seems she was cut by something sharp…”
Fu Yunheng, who had served in the Right Guard for a year and handled several cases, exclaimed with admiration, “You must have treated many battlefield wounds, Miss. Your description matches the coroner’s work almost exactly!”
Jiang Li replied calmly, “A physician must unravel causes as well as cure. Among wanderers of the martial world, poisonings and fights are common. When they seek me, it is both for healing and for examining wounds. Over time, I have grown familiar with such matters.”
Pei Yan’s voice grew solemn. “A single-edged knife of about three inches—this matches the previous victims.” Then he turned to Jiang Li. “May I trouble you to examine Miss Fu’s other injuries more closely?”
Fu Yunci’s life still hung by a thread, and Jiang Li hesitated. Seeing this, Pei Yan explained patiently, “This killer always discards the bodies half a month after the murder, often in filthy, squalid places. Thus, the remains of the five earlier victims were found badly decomposed, leaving few clues. If we can glean anything from Miss Fu’s wounds, it may be the only direct evidence linking to the crime scene—or the murderer himself.”
Fu Yunheng interjected, “Exactly—that is the killer’s most cunning trick. This case has dragged on for half a year. Brother Hechen took it over two months ago, yet there has still been no progress. The last victim vanished on October sixteenth, and now, it’s only the eleventh of this month, and he has struck again!”
Pei Yan continued, “Miss Fu barely escaped with her life. Examining her wounds may not only confirm whether the attacker is the Bride Butcher but also reveal direct clues tied to the crime scene—or the murderer himself. So I must ask you to examine her once more, especially her head, neck, mouth, and nose.”
With that, he turned to Fu Yunheng. “Bring out your sister’s shoes and clothing.”
Pei Yan’s words were earnest, and Madam Liu and Fu Sheng raised no objection. Jiang Li immediately returned to the inner chamber. Fu Yunheng followed, first checking on his sister, then instructing Danfeng and Momei to hand over the garments she had worn earlier that day.
Once he left, Jiang Li carefully loosened Fu Yunci’s robe. Before, she had only checked for hidden injuries or broken bones. Now, intent on finding clues, she examined with meticulous care, beginning with the areas Pei Yan had mentioned.
After two full quarters of an hour, Jiang Li strode swiftly back out.
Her expression was grave. “Lord Pei was correct. At the back of Miss Fu’s neck, there is a swelling caused by a blunt strike. It lies at the Fengfu and Yamen acupoints—enough to render one unconscious. In addition, within her nasal cavity I found traces of brownish powder: wolf’s bane and thorn-apple. Wolf’s bane causes hallucinations and numbness; thorn-apple is highly poisonous. Together, they make a potent, stupefying drug. The assailant must have first struck her, then used the drug as a safeguard.”
She paused, then added, “If I am not mistaken, Miss Fu’s constitution differs from ordinary folk. She shows resistance to such drugs—that is why she survived.”
Madam Liu gasped in wonder. “You are right! Years ago, Ah Ci was injured, and the physician tried anesthetic on her, but it had no effect. He said that her body was unlike others. How remarkable, Miss!”
Jiang Li faltered for words, but Pei Yan gave the conclusion: “Drugging, neck strike—these methods match the earlier cases. It is certain: Miss Fu encountered the Bride Butcher.”
Madam Liu drew a sharp breath. “Heavens! That fiend! And Ah Ci escaped his hands—what a blessing amid misfortune…”
Fu Sheng shuddered. “Her life was spared by sheer fortune.”
Jiang Li’s chest tightened. She went on, “Her lips and cheeks are bruised from violence. Her forehead, shoulders, and waist bear marks of impact against hard objects—the waist injury spreads in lines, as though she had been struck against a table edge. Her left ring fingernail is broken; her right hand and forearm show scratches, likely from struggling with the assailant. Her calves, heels, and ankles are streaked with abrasions—perhaps from being dragged, or from fleeing. Some even bled, as if torn by sharp thorns…”
Her voice grew firm. “At this season, only one common medicinal thorn fits: the soapthorn spine. It reduces swelling and expels toxins, and grows on sunny slopes where water is plentiful.”
Pei Yan, having already inspected Fu Yunci’s mud-stained clothes, picked up a sheet of mulberry paper nearby and held it out. “Miss, look—could this be it?”
Jiang Li examined closely. “Yes. Soapthorn spines.”
On the mulberry paper lay only a few broken reddish-brown splinters of wood. An ordinary person might not recognize them, but Jiang Li’s medical skill and mastery of pharmacology left no room for doubt in her judgment.
Pei Yan carefully stored away the evidence, then turned his dark gaze toward the rear chamber. “Miss Fu vanished in the stele forest of Yuzhen Temple, only to reappear in the bamboo grove. The killer’s strike must have taken place nearby. What she saw and heard during her disappearance will be clear once she wakes. But tonight the snow falls heavily—its cover will erase all traces. If we wait until she recovers, it will be too late. I will go to the monastery now, while there is still time. You remain here and await her awakening.”
Fu Sheng hesitated. “My lord…”
Pei Yan answered firmly, “Uncle, rest assured. I will take only Jiu Si and Shi’an.”
Jiu Si and Shi’an were his personal attendants. Before Fu Sheng could respond, Pei Yan had already taken his leave. Seeing this, Fu Yunheng stamped his foot. “With snow this heavy, how can he hope to find anything without the yamen men? No, Father, Mother—I will take two guards and follow Brother Hechen. I must avenge my sister!”
His words barely faded before the two young men disappeared beyond the hall. Madam Liu stepped forward, meaning to call her son back, but remembering that Pei Yan, an outsider, had not spared himself, she swallowed her pain and held her tongue.
Jiang Li stood stunned for a moment, then quickly returned inside to take Fu Yunci’s pulse.
Everyone gathered anxiously around the bed. Under their expectant gazes, Jiang Li shook her head slightly. “She will not wake for now.”
Madam Liu’s tears were nearly spent as she clutched her daughter’s hand. Fu Sheng paced the floor, glancing often toward the night outside, his worry unspoken.
After a while, Madam Liu ordered softly, “Prepare a chamber for Miss Xue. It is far too late.”
Jiang Li gestured toward the luohan couch beneath the western window. “No need. I will rest there for a while. Miss Fu’s condition may change at any moment—I cannot think of sleep.”
Madam Liu was deeply moved. “I truly do not know how we can ever repay you.”
Jiang Li glanced at Fu Yunci. “It is my duty.”
As she spoke, her eyes fell upon several sheets of paper lying on the couch’s side table. She walked over, picked one up, and read softly: “The Supreme One says, fortune and misfortune have no fixed gate…”
Dan Feng said, “These are the inscriptions the maids copied today.”
Jiang Li faintly recalled that many years ago, Fu Yunci had been more devoted to Buddhism and Daoism. She asked casually, “Miss Fu is so devout—has she long been a follower of the Dao?”
Dan Feng shook her head. “She began four years ago. At that time, our young lady was betrothed to Young Master Xu. The Xu family’s old madam is deeply devoted to Daoism, and since our lady often went to pay her respects, she too came to believe…”
Fearing Jiang Li might find it odd, Dan Feng added, “When the betrothal was made four years ago, our lady was seventeen. The plan was for her to marry once she turned eighteen. But half a year later, the Xu family’s patriarch suddenly passed away. Their household is strict in its observances, so Young Master Xu had to observe mourning for his grandfather. The wedding was delayed until this year. Today’s inscription was meant as a gift for the Xu family’s old madam, but who could have foreseen such misfortune? What will become of next month’s wedding ceremony…”
In Great Zhou, customs had grown more liberal, and a woman marrying at twenty was not considered late. Yet among most noble families, daughters were matched at fourteen or fifteen, and wed by seventeen or eighteen. For Fu Yunci to wait until twenty-one was truly unusual.
Outside, the wind and snow howled, but within the room, it was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Madam Liu sat motionless by Fu Yunci’s side, while Fu Sheng sat dazed nearby. Nanny Cui and two maids kept bringing hot tea, never daring to relax. Yet as the hours passed, the lamps burned low, and still Fu Yunci showed no sign of waking.
By then, the snowfall outside had ceased, leaving only the wailing of the cold wind. Madam Liu gazed at her daughter’s bloodless face and could not help but weep softly.
Nanny Cui said hoarsely, “Miss Xue, it has been nearly three hours…”
Jiang Li shook her head. “For now, there is nothing to be done but wait.”
The others were burning with anxiety, yet powerless to act. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Nanny Cui hurried out, and moments later she returned, pale with fright. “Master, Madam—the Xu family has sent someone. It is Nanny Wang, the old lady’s trusted servant. She has already been brought to the rear courtyard, saying she has come to visit the young mistress.”
Madam Liu was startled, while Fu Sheng had already anticipated it. “Arriving before dawn—I knew it. Yesterday’s commotion at Yuzhen Temple was too great to conceal. The Xu family must have caught wind of something.”
Madam Liu wiped her eyes and rose. “I will meet her. Say that Ah Ci became separated from her attendants while praying yesterday, which caused some disturbance. After returning, she caught a chill and fell asleep, and cannot receive visitors.”
Fu Sheng sighed. “I fear they will not be so easily deceived.”
Madam Liu’s eyes were swollen from weeping, her sleepless night leaving red veins across them. Her appearance alone was unconvincing, but with the betrothal long established and the Xu family so influential at court, she had no choice but to handle matters carefully.
She smoothed her hair and straightened her robes. Yet just as she stepped forward, a faint moan suddenly sounded. Everyone in the room froze. Closest to the bed, Dan Feng cried out in delight, “Madam! The young miss has awakened!”
Madam Liu turned back in shock, only to see Fu Yunci truly opening her eyes. Overjoyed, she forgot all about the Xu family’s envoy and rushed to the bedside. “Ah Ci, Mother is here…”
Fu Sheng also came forward. “Ah Ci? You are awake?”
Fu Yunci’s eyelids lifted slowly, her mind still clouded. Weakly, she looked at them, and once she recognized Madam Liu and Fu Sheng, tears welled in her eyes. “Mother… Father… I am still alive…”
Madam Liu sobbed with joy. “My good child, alive, alive! It was Miss Xue who saved you. You slept the whole night, but now you have awakened—thank heaven, thank heaven…”
Fu Yunci murmured drowsily, “Xue…”
Madam Liu laughed and cried at once. “Yes, the young lady from Minister Xue’s household—you even asked about her yourself. Luckily, we summoned her last night. You’ve only just awakened, don’t move yet. Let Miss Xue examine you…”
Jiang Li, suppressing her own emotion, stepped forward. Seeing Fu Yunci’s dazed gaze upon her, she spoke gently: “Now that you are awake, all will be well. I will surely cure you. First, let me take your pulse, then check whether the bleeding from your wound has stopped.”
Fu Yunci nodded faintly, half comprehending, and Jiang Li placed her fingers upon the girl’s wrist.
Madam Liu, Nanny Cui, and the others watched through tears, murmuring “Amitabha.” At that moment, Nanny Cui suddenly remembered Nanny Wang and said, “Madam, the Xu family’s envoy is still waiting to see the young mistress…”
Before she could finish, Jiang Li felt Fu Yunci’s body convulse violently. She looked up to see Fu Yunci’s eyes wide with terror, her whole frame trembling in fright.