As soon as they entered the county yamen, Qiao Lu spotted Ning Yan and froze.
“Master Zhang, what do you mean by bringing her here?” Qiao Lu asked Zhang Xingben.
“She’s a maid from my household. She claims she can investigate cases, so I’m letting her try,” Zhang Xingben replied, staring at Qiao Lu. “Why? Do you know her?”
Qiao Lu glanced at Ning Yan but said nothing.
“We met beneath Xilin Pagoda the night before last,” Ning Yan explained voluntarily. “Someone jumped from the tower, and I happened to help Constable Qiao and the others out of a difficult situation.”
Zhang Xingben was startled. He had heard about that incident yesterday. “So the remarkable young woman who analyzed the case on the spot was you?”
Ning Yan nodded.
His face filled with surprise. He had already realized Ning Yan had some ability, but he never imagined the woman who solved the mystery beneath Xilin Pagoda was her.
One truly could not judge a person by appearances.
Qiao Lu’s expression darkened considerably. He could neither deny her achievements nor bring himself to praise her. “Master Zhang, if you insist on bringing an unrelated outsider to investigate the case, you alone will bear the consequences,” he said.
Zhang Xingben sneered, narrowing his eyes. “My son didn’t kill anyone, and you people have no way to prove otherwise. If I don’t find someone to investigate on my own, am I supposed to sit back and let my family suffer this injustice?”
“Then do as you please,” Qiao Lu replied. Not daring to fall out completely with Zhang Xingben, he merely shot Ning Yan a glare, flicked his sleeve, and stormed off.
Ning Yan walked over to the examination table.
The victim, Mudan, lay upon it.
The yamen coroner stood nearby, watching with a mix of caution and curiosity. He had already witnessed Ning Yan’s abilities beneath the pagoda two days earlier. Today’s corpse, however, seemed like a very ordinary case. He had found nothing unusual during his own examination. Now he wanted to see whether Ning Yan could discover anything different.
Ning Yan put on gloves and handed Zhang Xingben a sheet of paper and a brush. “Help me fill out the postmortem record.”
Though reluctant, Zhang Xingben stepped aside obediently and prepared to take notes.
“The deceased is a female, approximately seventeen to eighteen years old, five chi three cun in height, with a slim build.”
Ning Yan loosened the victim’s clothing and examined the livor mortis and the degree of rigor mortis. She then lifted the eyelids to look more closely.
“The face is bluish-purple and slightly swollen. The body is fully stiff. The corneas show mild clouding. The lips are shriveled, and the lividity has merged into large patches.”
Zhang Xingben froze. He mulled over Ning Yan’s words but could not fully understand them.
Qiao Lu, about to leave, turned back again.
The coroner unconsciously stepped closer, secretly studying Ning Yan’s methods.
“Write this down,” Ning Yan said, ignoring everyone else’s reactions. “There are petechial hemorrhages beneath the eyes. The neck bears overlapping horseshoe-shaped ligature marks. Both wrists show bluish-purple binding marks. There is a fresh bite wound over the shoulder blade, with eight discernible tooth impressions.”
“Write this down as well.” Ning Yan paused and raised a lantern to examine the lower body. “There was sexual intercourse before death. The evidence is obvious.”
Zhang Xingben did not dare ask a single question, afraid of interrupting her examination.
Ning Yan returned to the neck and carefully inspected the ligature marks. Two overlapping grooves were visible: one deep and one shallow.
“My preliminary conclusion is that the deceased was strangled to death.” She then explained the differences between death by suicide through hanging and death by homicidal strangulation.
At that moment, the coroner spoke up. “I discovered that as well. Second Master Zhang said he doesn’t remember whether he did that last night.”
“Doesn’t remember?” Ning Yan raised an eyebrow and looked at the coroner.
The coroner nodded. “We questioned him. He said he remembers arguing with the deceased last night, but he can’t recall whether they had intercourse afterward.”
Ning Yan turned to Zhang Xingben. “How is Second Master Zhang’s alcohol tolerance?” she asked.
“Half a jin of our family’s Zhuyeqing liquor won’t even make him tipsy. One jin, and he’ll definitely be drunk,” Zhang Xingben replied.
Ning Yan did not pursue the matter further. After confirming that the postmortem record was complete, she covered the body with a cloth. When she was finished, she headed to the jail cell where Second Master Zhang was being held.
Second Master Zhang was named Zhang Heyu. He was twenty-three years old and had been widowed in April, with no children. He had two concubines at home and was already engaged, with the wedding scheduled for March of the following year. He had studied at a private academy for ten years but never passed the county examination to become a licentiate. Throughout Zining County, he was known as a wealthy playboy. However, he had a sharp business mind. He was quick-witted, skilled in dealing with people, and generally enjoyed a favorable reputation. He strongly resembled Zhang Xingben: narrow eyes, fair skin, and a tall stature. His looks were above average, though not particularly striking.
At that moment, he was sitting on a low stool. As soon as he saw his father arrive, he sprang to his feet, excited. “Father! Have you found someone to take the blame for me? Can I go home now?”
“Shut up!” Zhang Xingben barked, scolding him several times before explaining Ning Yan’s involvement. “She’s here to investigate the case. Whatever she asks, you answer.”
Zhang Heyu froze in disbelief, staring at Ning Yan. Then contempt flashed across his face. “Father, have you gone senile? Isn’t she the maid caught stealing from my sister’s room? What can she possibly do?”
“What are you yelling for? Are you the father, or am I?” Zhang Xingben snapped. “Listen to her. Right now, she’s the only one who can save you.”
Still unconvinced, Zhang Heyu rolled his eyes dramatically, sat down in his chair, flicked back his sleeves, and said in a hostile tone, “Fine. Ask away.”
Then he muttered under his breath, “This is ridiculous. Bringing a maid to solve a case. What is this, embroidery?”
Ning Yan waited for him to finish complaining before speaking. “How drunk were you last night? What exactly do you remember? Start from the beginning and tell me everything in chronological order.”
Though unwilling, Zhang Heyu complied. He explained that he had arranged to visit Chunhua House with two classmates. He had drunk roughly one jin of alcohol and, once he felt he could drink no more, followed Mudan upstairs.
The two argued over the matter of keeping her as a mistress. Zhang Heyu felt Mudan was becoming increasingly demanding and had even started asking him to take her home, which he refused.
“After that, I felt really awful and threw up twice,” he said.
“And did you take your own clothes off?”
He thought for a moment. “I did.”
Ning Yan asked another question. “What were you wearing when you woke up the next morning?”
Zhang Heyu’s face reddened. He sneaked a glance at Ning Yan before answering awkwardly, “N-nothing. I wasn’t wearing anything. My clothes were all on the floor. But I’m certain I didn’t do anything.”
“I know my own body. I was so drunk that there was no way I could’ve done anything.”
He said that when he woke up, the first thing he did was try to push Mudan. When she wouldn’t move, he cursed under his breath, got up, dressed himself, and shouted for tea. That was when he realized something was wrong.
“What did she look like at the time? Was she covered by the quilt? What was she wearing?”
“The quilt was pulled up to her neck. She looked like she was sleeping, lying neat and straight. Only her hair was a little messy.”
Zhang Heyu thought about it carefully.
Nothing else stood out. All of his valuables were still there. Nothing had been stolen.
“Tell me, isn’t that strange? The window and door were definitely closed. Even now, I still can’t figure it out.”
The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became. He paced back and forth angrily, then stopped, about to launch into another round of complaints when Ning Yan interrupted him.
“Think carefully again. What about the room’s furnishings? Was the luohan couch in disorder? Were the stools still properly arranged?”
Zhang Heyu rubbed his temples, trying hard to recall.
“Nothing unusual. Everything was neat. The only things on the floor were a few pieces of my clothing.”
“What about Mudan’s clothes?” Ning Yan asked.
“Her clothes?” Zhang Heyu paused. “They were hanging on the clothes rack. I remember that much. The constables took them away afterward.”
Ning Yan nodded and continued asking a few more questions. As she questioned him, she simultaneously made notes.
The jail cell was dimly lit. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on her. After a while, Ning Yan suddenly asked: “If someone wanted to frame you, who do you think it would be?”
Zhang Heyu froze. “Frame me?” His expression changed immediately. He looked toward his father.
A look of alarm appeared on Zhang Xingben’s face as well.
After a long silence, Zhang Heyu said, “T-there actually is one person. He once said he’d make my life a living hell.”
Ning Yan frowned. “What is his name? What’s his background?”
Wiping sweat from his forehead, Zhang Heyu stammered, “Ma Si. The deputy commander personally appointed by General Pei.”
Ning Yan was momentarily stunned. Immediately, an image surfaced in her mind: Pei Yan sitting astride a horse, staring at her and warning that if she didn’t come, she would bear the consequences. He had summoned her, and she had not gone. Now, if she started investigating this Ma Si, would Pei Yan kill her? Judging from the stories circulating among the common people, that was genuinely a possibility.