The fire raged for an entire day.
By dusk, the solemn ancestral hall had been reduced to a heap of charred ruins. The surrounding pines and cypresses were half-burned, and under the dim sky, wisps of smoke still curled upward.
Huo Weilou stood near the scorched ground, his brows heavy with a stormy gravity.
He Cheng, behind him, lowered his voice: “Marquis, the fire started from within. Likely no other cause. But clearing this place will take six or seven days.”
The ancestral hall was large—besides the main hall, there were more than ten rooms front and back. Now, collapsed walls, scorched beams, and half-burned rafters lay piled like small mountains. Huo Weilou’s gaze was dark. To the side, he noticed Zheng Wenan standing sorrowfully.
“Gather the household attendants, and request more men from the yamen. This place must be cleared within three days.”
At his words, Zheng Wenan came forward: “Marquis, the household is already in panic. Perhaps it would be better to solve the case first, then clear the ruins…”
Huo Weilou fixed his eyes on him. Zheng Wenan’s expression shifted, but in the end, he answered: “Yes, I will arrange it at once.”
He summoned stewards to carry out the orders, while He Cheng instructed the constables to bring more officers. Night was falling, the wind biting cold. Huo Weilou’s gaze sharpened—he suddenly noticed Bo Ruoyou’s frail figure climbing onto a heap of charred beams.
Huo Weilou frowned and walked toward her. Though the flames were gone, smoke and sparks still lingered among the ruins. The ground beneath still held warmth. He could not understand why Bo Ruoyou was climbing there, her skirt already stained with ash.
“What are you doing?” he asked sternly, his tone edged with disapproval.
Bo Ruoyou turned back, unafraid, and asked instead: “Marquis, do you smell anything?”
He frowned. She descended from the ruins, her hands blackened with soot. Dusting them off, she said: “It’s tung oil. Though burned away, there’s still a trace in the smoke.”
Huo Weilou, seasoned from his youth in the army, knew well what tung oil was. On battlefields, it was used for fire attacks—its flames fierce, water-resistant, and producing thick, toxic smoke.
Bo Ruoyou continued: “In ancestral halls, the lamps for Buddha and memorial tablets are usually fueled by butter oil (ghee). Expensive, but clean-burning, with little smoke. Tung oil should never be here. And earlier, I noticed the scent of tung oil on Nanny Yu’s body.”
As Bo Ruoyou spoke, she brushed stray strands of hair from her cheek with the back of her hand. “The fire broke out suddenly, and its force was overwhelming. You must already suspect something unusual. Now I can confirm—it was deliberately set with tung oil.”
She turned her gaze toward the ruins. “The ancestral hall is vital to the clan. It would never be burned unless for dire reasons. Last night, Fifth Master Zheng came here. This morning, the young lady was to enter the capital. Then the hall caught fire. I believe something strange lies within this hall. All of this stems from the decision of Fifth Master Zheng and Nanny Yu—they wanted to conceal something, so they resorted to such ruthless measures.”
When she finished, Huo Weilou did not reply. Worried she had spoken too much, she turned back—only to find him watching her with an unreadable expression. Something felt off.
First, his eyes lingered on her face, smudged with soot. Then he looked at her hands. She had little hesitation when examining corpses, even decayed ones. Her fingers had touched corpse fluids and endured frostbite. Now, two fingers of her left hand were slightly swollen, still stained with ash. The sight pained him.
“The ancestral hall is indeed suspicious. The sudden fire only proves it further. I’ve already ordered the place to be cleared and searched.” He paused, his tone softening slightly. “There’s no need for autopsies today. You need not remain here.”
It was a dismissal. Yet Bo Ruoyou hesitated, testing: “I wish to stay and observe a little longer.”
Huo Weilou’s gaze sharpened. She quickly added: “Though I am a woman, my mind is meticulous. I will not cause mistakes.”
A faint light flickered in his eyes. He realized she remembered his dislike of women interfering in his work. He glanced at the fire scene. “In such conditions, what could you discover? When I need you, I will summon you.”
Following his gaze, she saw only charred beams collapsed in heaps, rubble and broken walls. Indeed, until the heavy debris was cleared, nothing could be found.
She sighed helplessly. “Then… I shall take my leave.”
Her tone carried regret. Huo Weilou, accustomed to officials shirking duties, found her different—her brows and eyes striking, even with soot on her face. The thought made him frown slightly. For years, he had abstained from women, unmoved even by the most dazzling beauties of the capital. Yet now, he found Bo Ruoyou pleasing to the eye. It must be because of her diligence and skill.
Huo Weilou steadied his thoughts. Looking again at Bo Ruoyou, he couldn’t help but feel a trace of regret. He gave a faint reply, and she turned to leave.
At that moment, He Cheng came forward. Seeing her face smudged with soot, he looked surprised: “Xiao Bo, your face…” He pointed at her cheek and couldn’t help but laugh. “How did your face get so dirty?”
Only then did Bo Ruoyou realize why Huo Weilou had looked at her that way earlier. Though she didn’t feel embarrassed, it was indeed improper. She gave a wry smile and walked off.
Watching her back, He Cheng clicked his tongue. Noticing that Huo Weilou seemed satisfied with her these past two days, he said: “Forgive me, Marquis, but Xiao Bo truly works more steadily than the young men. She has helped with several cases without complaint.”
He sighed. “These past two years, thanks to Xiao Bo’s assistance, not a single case has been left unresolved in Qingzhou. Heaven has truly favored this humble official. Seeing how the Marquis trusts those you employ without doubt, I have also learned much. Though I cannot appoint her through official yamen documents, I have heard that your household gathers many worthy talents. Such a heart that cherishes ability deeply moves me. Since that is the case, I shall also regard Xiao Bo as one of my own disciples. Better yet, let her reside in Qingzhou City—it will be far more convenient for her to assist the prefectural yamen in the future…”
He Cheng thought his praise of Bo Ruoyou and flattery of Huo Weilou flowed naturally, without seeming forced. But before he finished, Huo Weilou’s face darkened, his cold aura pressing down. He Cheng nervously pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat.
The Emperor Jianhe ruled with openness, and even in court, there were guest officials. Huo Weilou, second only to the emperor, was deeply trusted and often recruited talent for him. Thus, He Cheng’s words were not out of place. Yet Huo Weilou felt displeased. That evening, back at the guest residence, his mood was somber.
Eunuch Fu assumed he was angry about losing the chance to investigate the ancestral hall because of the fire. “The blaze was sudden. Nanny Yu is most suspicious—she was once the old madam’s closest confidante. To set fire to the ancestral hall shows her ruthlessness. But burning it changes nothing. With the Marquis’s wisdom, the truth will be uncovered in days.”
Huo Weilou suddenly said: “I recall that years ago, Xiliang sent a tribute item.”
“Ah?” Eunuch Fu was startled, unsure why he mentioned this. He thought for a moment and nodded. “This year, Xiliang’s tribute was mostly rare weapons. Do you mean the divine repeating crossbow?”
Since Huo Weilou had served in the army, Eunuch Fu’s first thought was of the famed crossbow, said to fire multiple arrows with a range of a hundred li—a weapon that could secure victory for Great Zhou.
But Huo Weilou shook his head. “No. It was a pair of gauntlets woven from the finest copper wire.”
Eunuch Fu thought hard but could not recall such an item. Huo Weilou ordered: “Send a pigeon message to the capital. Have that item brought here.”
Eunuch Fu, half doubtful, went to send the message. When he returned, he saw Huo Weilou reading official documents. He had no idea what use that item could be, sighed, and knew he could not fathom Huo Weilou’s thoughts, so he asked no more.
At that moment, the embroidered-uniform guard assigned to watch Bo Ruoyou’s courtyard came back, hesitating outside the door.
Eunuch Fu stepped out: “Why have you returned? Weren’t you told to watch Miss Bo?”
The guard looked troubled: “Miss Bo went to the bamboo grove in the east. She would not allow me to follow. I thought it improper, so I came back to report.”
Before Eunuch Fu could reply, Huo Weilou’s voice came from inside: “What is she doing in the bamboo grove?”
The guard quickly answered: “I do not know, but she asked the household attendants for incense and paper money. It seems she intends to make offerings to the dead.”
Huo Weilou lifted his gaze from the documents, his brows knitting slightly.
Author’s Note: The old iron tree has finally begun to sprout.