Seeing Zheng Wenrong, Zheng Xiao shrank back in fear, hiding behind his mother. The Second Madam shielded him with one arm, her face showing little surprise. Zheng Hao first froze, then blurted out: “Father—”
The Third Madam quickly covered Zheng Hao’s mouth. “It’s your Fourth Uncle.”
Looking at the face identical to her husband’s, the Third Madam’s eyes filled with tears again.
Zheng Yunní stepped forward. “Fourth Uncle, why have you come here?”
Her tone carried accusation, but Zheng Wenrong’s expression remained calm, as though he did not notice the rejection and blame in their eyes. “In this household, even lives are lost — Mother, Second Brother, Third Brother. With their lives gone, what else matters?”
Zheng Wenrong turned his gaze heavily, bowed, and said: “Greetings, Marquis. If you have questions, you may ask me.”
Having been away from the estate for many years, Zheng Wenrong’s aura was unlike that of a noble son. Huo Weilou studied him briefly, then looked to an Embroidered Uniform Guard. “Begin searching the servants outside.”
The guard obeyed at once, leading men out.
The killer’s traits were already clear. Following Huo Weilou’s orders, they compared each servant one by one. With so many people, anyone resembling the killer was kept; those who did not match were dismissed. The remaining suspects were then checked for alibis; if witnesses confirmed them, they were excluded. After this filtering, only three thin, weak servants remained.
“Marquis, these three: Liu Zhongyuan, only fifteen, a gardener. He once suffered a severe fever, leaving him short and small. He often helps with chores and is agile. People say he trims high branches without ladders, climbing on his own. The one in the middle is Zhao Wu, a household guard. Though thin and short, he is trained and skilled in archery and riding. The one on the right is He Li, a menial servant. He only does rough work. He was brought into the household last year, originally a refugee, and later sold here by traffickers. All three have injuries on their hands. Though each gave explanations, none had witnesses.”
When the guard finished, Huo Weilou’s gaze swept over them, dark and piercing. The three men, left standing, looked panicked. Yet their panic was not the guilt of criminals, but fear of Marquis Wuzhao’s formidable reputation.
Huo Weilou thought to himself that little had been gained, yet he still turned to glance at Bo Ruoyou. She nodded and stepped out of the hall. Standing before the three suspects, she asked: “Where are your wounds?”
At once, the three men held out their hands. Bo Ruoyou’s gaze darkened. She examined them carefully, then studied their physiques and expressions. Finally, she frowned, returned to Huo Weilou’s side, and shook her head. “Liu Zhongyuan and He Li’s injuries are old, at least two days old. Zhao Wu’s wound is fresh, but it was caused by a sharp weapon, and it is large. Moreover, though Zhao Wu is short, his build is solid — heavier than the killer must be.”
Huo Weilou asked: “Are all the household servants accounted for?”
The guard replied quickly: “There are eighty-six servants registered. All are present except Nanny Yu.”
Huo Weilou’s brows furrowed. He waved for the guards to release the suspects. The three bowed hurriedly and withdrew. The courtyard, once crowded, fell empty.
Huo Weilou turned his gaze upon the household masters, his voice cold: “The killer strikes once every seven days. Already, your mother, your brothers — all have been slain. Who will be next?”
His words made faces go pale. Yet his own expression remained calm.
“Fourth Master Zheng stays. The rest may leave.”
Bo Ruoyou’s brows twitched. Unable to hold back, she said: “Marquis, wait.”
A mere coroner, daring to speak without leave before Marquis Wuzhao — the others looked at her with obvious disdain. But Huo Weilou only regarded her coolly. “Well?”
Bo Ruoyou said: “The eldest young lady has a fresh wound on her hand. I do not know how it came about.”
In an instant, Zheng Yunní’s gaze shot toward Bo Ruoyou like an arrow. Her hand, hidden in her sleeve, instinctively drew back. Huo Weilou noticed the movement at once. He did not question her, but his eyes grew cold as they fixed upon her.
Zheng Yunní bit her lip. “Marquis, do you suspect me? The wound on my hand was from my mother. You saw it yourselves. She had an episode. I was sending her back, and in the struggle, she scratched me.”
She looked at Bo Ruoyou and sneered. “Is that enough to condemn me?”
Zheng Yunní was like a cat with its fur bristling. But her sharp words were nothing before Huo Weilou’s authority. “Show your hand.”
Zheng Yunní glared at Bo Ruoyou, then thrust out her hand. The wound slashed across her delicate skin, crimson and swollen, bloodied and raw. The force of the Marchioness’s grip was evident. Bo Ruoyou stepped forward, examined it, and nodded to Huo Weilou.
Zheng Yunní scoffed coldly.
Huo Weilou’s gaze swept over them. “The killer has struck three times, knowing the estate’s layout well. Perhaps he hides among you. If you cling to false hope, another murder may come before seven days pass. If you think it through, you may seek me at any time.”
Zheng Yunní pressed her lips, fear flickering in her eyes. The others also looked stricken.
Huo Weilou ended it there. “Dismissed.”
As Zheng Wenan left, he glanced back at Zheng Wenrong’s figure again and again, unease gnawing at him. In the courtyard, he found Zheng Yunní waiting at the gate. He hurried forward, and she said: “Fifth Uncle, go see Nanny Yu. At this point, only she may know the truth.”
Zheng Wenan’s expression shifted. “Yunní, you…”
Zheng Yunní narrowed her eyes. “The seventh of March is approaching. By mid-February, we must depart for the capital. Less than a month remains. Fifth Uncle, you know what is at stake. We have waited so many years — how can it all be ruined now?”
Zheng Wenan’s face showed difficulty. Zheng Yunní turned back toward the brightly lit hall, leaving behind a cold remark: “Fourth Uncle should never have returned.” With that, she departed.
Zheng Wenan stood still for a moment, then finally turned northward.
Inside the hall, Zheng Wenrong said: “My third brother and I are twins. From birth, we were deemed inauspicious. Mother chose to keep my elder brother in the household, while I was sent to a Daoist temple to be raised. Each year, at some unnoticed time, I was allowed to return for half a month. My last visit was ten years ago…”
His gaze grew sorrowful. “Perhaps the saying of twins being unlucky is true. That time, Mother let me stay five extra days. Only five days — and misfortune struck the household.”
Huo Weilou’s eyes narrowed. “What misfortune?”
Zheng Wenrong sighed. “Yunní fell gravely ill. She could not speak nor recognize people, as though she were witless. Physicians found no cure. Daoists and monks said she was possessed, suffering hysteria. My sister-in-law was already ill, and after that, she worsened, never recovering. Since then, I never returned. Five years ago, Mother brought several brothers and sisters-in-law to the temple for retreat, and only then did I meet them again.”
“Why do you think Yunní’s illness was connected to you?” Huo Weilou asked.
Zheng Wenrong gave a bitter smile. “Yunní was gifted from childhood, speaking early. She was betrothed to the Second Prince from a young age. Though without an imperial decree, Consort Noble sent inquiries each year to ensure the marriage. Mother dared not neglect her education. At four, she began studies and, within a year, had mastered the Thousand Character Classic. In music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, she showed great talent. Mother even hired famous teachers for her…”
“When I returned, she was six. I taught her painting. Soon after, she fell ill without reason. Not only witless and mute, but it took a full year for her to recover. Yet she lost all interest in the arts, no longer the spirited child she had been at four. Fortunately, since I never returned, she grew up steadily.”
Zheng Wenrong seemed truly remorseful. “So when she saw me just now, her agitation was natural.”
Huo Weilou asked again: “Ten years ago, when you returned, they allowed you to interact with Zheng Yunní?”
Zheng Wenrong recalled the past, sighing even more deeply. “At first, no. But Yunní was different from others. Others, seeing me identical to Third Brother, only felt fear. Yet whenever Yunní saw me, not only could she tell us apart, but she was never afraid. She even liked it when I told her stories about the outside world. And since I had some skill in painting and calligraphy, she often asked me to teach her. She was truly clever — at only five or six, she already understood the meaning of leaving blank space in a painting…”
Even now, Zheng Wenrong spoke with admiration for that brilliant little girl. “That is my story. This time, I returned only to mourn Mother, but I did not expect such calamities in the household. I know no one wanted me back.”
Huo Weilou’s gaze sharpened. “Do you know why the household replaced all its servants fifteen years ago?”
Zheng Wenrong was taken aback. Fifteen years ago, he had been only a youth, and he truly could not recall. “Fifteen years… I have no impression. Each time I returned, I seldom went out. Few even knew I was here. So even if the servants outside were changed, I would not know.”
Huo Weilou asked again: “Your elder brother once had a concubine who died in childbirth. Do you know of this?”
Zheng Wenrong was startled once more. “My elder brother? I did not know. But he was always upright. I never knew he took a concubine.”
“When did the Marchioness go mad?”
Though Zheng Wenrong knew little of the household, this he remembered. “It was the year after Yunní was born. That year, I returned for a short stay. My sister-in-law no longer dined with us. I asked, and Mother said she was ill.”
“Do you know why she fell ill?”
Zheng Wenrong shook his head. “I do not.”
The Marquis’s household was filled with strange mysteries. Yet the one person who might speak freely knew so little.
Finally, Huo Weilou asked: “When is your birthday? Do you know what is meant by a yin year and yin hour?”
“My birth was in the third year of Jianhe, the second day of the fourth month, at the hour of the pig.” Zheng Wenrong frowned. “Yin year, yin hour? I do not know. If I were born in such a time, I fear I would not have survived.”
He gave a bitter smile. “Twins are already deemed unlucky. If born in a yin year and yin hour, then truly it would be a cursed birth, bringing calamity to the world.”