Outside the building, a light drizzle blew in the wind. Li Yan stood on the rooftop of the neighboring building, holding an umbrella.
The weather was damp and moist, making the roof tiles look as if they had been oiled—shiny and bright, obscuring many details.
She crouched down, tilting her head and tucking the umbrella handle under her arm, then randomly lifted a few tiles.
Rainwater mixed with dust seeped through her fingers, tinged with a faint red.
The tiles had clearly been replaced, but the wooden rafters supporting them beneath the roof had not been changed.
On the rafters, bloodstains that had flowed down through the tile gaps were clearly visible.
She lifted a few more tiles, and the marks became even more distinct, resembling the intricate patterns of fish scales at first glance.
Someone had obviously replaced the tiles.
She quickly stood up, scanning her surroundings, her heart growing colder with each passing moment.
Logically, old tiles and new tiles, fired at different times and exposed to wind and sun for varying durations, should show noticeable differences in appearance.
But on the rooftop before her, there was no distinction at all!
"Impressive," Li Yan marveled.
In other words, after the incident and before the constable from the prefectural office climbed up, all the tiles on this rooftop had been completely replaced.
Holding her umbrella, the slanting wind and fine rain lifted the hem of her clothes, dampening half her robe.
Looking out, the entrance tower of Qulou was as large as a courtyard house, with no fewer than eight hundred tiles on its roof.
From the discovery of the victim to the constable climbing up to investigate the scene, the prefectural office’s investigation took at most half an hour.
Replacing eight or nine hundred tiles undetected in such a short time—how was this any different from a fantasy tale?
It was utterly absurd.
Standing on the rooftop, she moved along the ridge and leaped lightly, landing on the roof of the neighboring rouge shop.
This building was half a story lower than Qulou. She crouched and lifted two tiles, immediately feeling bewildered.
"There are bloodstains here too?"
Not only were there grid-like marks on the rafters, but the tiles in her hands also bore large traces.
She examined the tiles in her hand for a long moment, then stood up and looked back at Qulou. The half-story difference and the adjacent gray wall were clean, with nothing amiss.
No wonder the prefectural office had posted such a notice.
For an institution that relied on evidence, concluding that the body had slid down from the rouge shop under these circumstances was entirely reasonable.
"Strange."
As she stared at the tiles, her doubts grew.
That night, a quarter of an hour after the light in Shen Hanzhou’s room went out, Li Yan cautiously peeked out from her own doorway.
She looked around furtively, then tiptoed back to close her door.
The rain had stopped two hours earlier, and a crescent moon hung in the sky. The entire Qingzhou felt colder than it had in the afternoon.
Wearing her nightclothes with a thin robe draped over them, Li Yan sniffled slightly.
"Is Yu Bei here?" she asked.
Cao Qie was sitting on a chair, sorting charcoal with the shop assistant. Seeing the young mistress come downstairs, he quickly stood up, wiped his clothes, and pointed outside the window. "He’s here, waiting for you."
Yu Bei was the most skilled in Qinggong at Feilong Shanzhuang, known as "Grassland Flyer." He was Li Yan’s second pair of eyes.
She nodded and walked behind the counter, pulling out a wooden box from the corner. Crouching, she unlocked it.
Inside the box, various tools were neatly arranged: small knives, rods, files, chain locks—everything one could need.
Without hesitation, Li Yan pulled out a short knife from the lid of the box, spun it three times in her palm, and swiftly tucked it into the strap on her leg.
"I’ll be back late, no need to wait." After closing the box, she covered her face with a scarf, picked up the longsword on the table, and turned to leave.
"Miss!" Cao Qie hurriedly called out, "Wait a moment!"
He lifted the hem of his robe and stepped forward, pulling a brocade pouch from his pocket. He poured out three pitch-black pellets into his palm: "Take these with you. They're my latest invention—just throw one on the ground, and with a bang, thick smoke will billow out, making it impossible for anyone to see where you are."
After saying this, he grinned and placed them back into the pouch, shaking it in front of Li Yan: "I've already added a hidden clasp so you can attach it directly to the waistband of your night clothes."
Li Yan nodded, took the pouch, and swiftly climbed over the windowsill. In the darkness, she exchanged a glance with Yu Bei, and the two of them moved one after the other toward the courtyard of the Qingzhou Fuya.
Perched on the roof of the Qingzhou Fuya, observing the still-burning candlelight in the Hufang, she signaled to Yu Bei: You go to the study, I'll head to the Hufang.
Yu Bei nodded and vanished into the night.
Earlier that afternoon, she had mentioned that the identity of the deceased should be recorded in the Hufang of the Fuya. If the Qingzhou Fuya truly had no intention of handling this matter, they would likely find the girl's records overnight and burn them to ashes.
If she could steal the records before the constables discovered the girl's identity, the case might become much clearer.
It was nearly midnight, and the night wind sent shivers down Li Yan's spine.
She rubbed her hands together, blew a warm breath into them, and lifted a roof tile to peer inside.
Beside the candlelight, two constables were still bent over, searching. Boxes of case files were strewn across the floor, with scattered booklets haphazardly placed.
It seemed they hadn't found it yet.
Qingzhou governed twelve counties. At the end of each year, all cases handled during that year were archived, organized, and sent to the Qingzhou Fuya. After being reviewed by Prefect Lin Jian'an, they were compiled as part of his annual administrative achievements and taken with him to the capital for the grand court assembly.
Shen Hanzhou had mentioned that the Moyin was relatively recent, likely from within the past year or two. Logically, it should have been discovered quickly.
Rather than risking going down to search herself, it was better to wait and reap the rewards.
She straightened up, choosing a more comfortable position to wait.
"Oh, my goodness," suddenly, the constable beneath Li Yan, near the candlelight, stretched lazily. "Finally finished going through these eleven counties. Our luck is truly awful—searching everywhere, thinking Liuhe was the least likely, and it turns out it really was Liuhe."
"Exactly," the other person chimed in halfway, then suddenly felt dizzy. The two of them stared at each other blankly, and before long, they slowly slumped to the side and fell asleep.
Only then did Li Yan put away the blowpipe in her hand.
She climbed down from the eaves and quietly entered the room.
The Hufang stored the household registration records of all the people in Qingzhou. The shelves were densely packed, filled to the brim with booklets.
The two constables had clearly been searching for a long time. The already cramped space now had no room to even step.
Li Yan moved the constable sleeping beside the small table to the floor and sat in the chair herself, using the light to flip through the records.
She had some recollection of Liuhe Xian. At the end of last year, she had led the mountain stronghold's members to intercept two carriages in Liuhe, rescuing two girls who were about to be taken away for sacrifice.
The girls were young, only twelve years old, bound hand and foot with their mouths gagged. When they saw Li Yan, they had already cried themselves hoarse, their eyes brimming with tears as they looked at her. The moment they realized they were saved, they knelt on the ground and kowtowed until their foreheads were scraped raw.
That was why Li Yan disliked Liuhe.
"That place really hasn't had any major cases," she mocked while flipping through the pages. "That's because not a single major case ever made it here."
Holding the paper between two fingers, her gaze swiftly scanned the words as she softly muttered the term "Moxing."
"Found it." She paused, her fingertip resting on a name.
"Ning Shi, slave status… causing disability through violence?"
The record stated that Ning Shi alone had assaulted Master Chen of Liuhe Xian last March, resulting in permanent arm disability. Considering her youth and first offense, she was sentenced to Moxing, with the character branded below the collarbone.
Just like the corpse in the mortuary.
But the victim's wrists were so slender, her frame so frail, and she had no martial arts skills or training.
Under such circumstances, for her alone to assault a grown man and cause disability was truly baffling.
Time was pressing. Li Yan dared not let her focus wander. She pulled a sheet of paper from the side and, by candlelight, transcribed the contents from the record.
She removed the original page bearing the official Liuhe seal from the record book and replaced it with the copy.
This way, even if the prefecture destroyed the evidence by burning it, she would still retain a copy.
If she were ever framed as a scapegoat, at least she would have a direction to clear her name.
Folding the original document, she tucked it into her pocket and prepared to leave.
But at that very moment, the door slammed open with a crash, followed by a furious shout: "Who's there!"
Li Yan recognized the voice—it was Yun Chuan, Qingzhou's top constable, who had been visiting the manor every few days lately, bringing all sorts of puzzles for her to solve.
Gripping his cloud-patterned longsword, he strode forward, about to pass through the antique display shelf and reach her.
Li Yan clicked her tongue inwardly.
He was the most troublesome one. If he set his sights on her, he would relentlessly pursue her, making escape difficult.
She stood up, blew out the candle, leaped out the window, and climbed onto the roof.
But Yun Chuan's title as the top constable was well-earned—he followed closely.
As the distance between them narrowed, Li Yan suddenly halted and turned to face him steadily.
"Who goes there! State your name!"
Li Yan remained silent, retrieving three black pellets from the pouch at her waist.
Seeing her raise her hand, Yun Chuan hesitated.
Likely thinking they were hidden weapons, he immediately drew his sword with one hand and charged forward.
Instantly, a deafening boom echoed.
A skyrocketing dragon lit up the sky above the prefecture, followed by a dazzling firework bursting with a crackle.
The rooftop fell into utter silence.
Li Yan was stunned, and so was Yun Chuan.
Their eyes met, both filled with confusion.
Weren't these supposed to be smoke bombs?
She glanced down at the two remaining pellets in her hand, feeling utterly defeated, and hurled them both to the ground.
Two more thunderous booms erupted. Seizing the moment Yun Chuan dodged the flashes, she vaulted into the canopy of a tree.
As the two fireworks bloomed in the sky, only Yun Chuan's silhouette remained on the rooftop.