“Drunken Immortal Peach is colorless and tasteless. When made into soporific incense and inhaled, within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, one falls into deep sleep—sometimes for half an hour, sometimes for an entire day, depending on the dosage.” Fu Jue gave a more detailed explanation.
Qi Xun added, “Post Master Liu last checked the herbs at the start of winter—only two months ago. No one here has been ill. The herbs could not have simply vanished.”
She asked Liu Yishan, “Where are the herbs kept?”
“In the courtyard by the east gate. That place, like the one that burned, stores unused odds and ends. One room serves as a pharmacy. Since there’s no doctor nearby, if anyone has a headache or fever, they take herbs according to old prescriptions. But these past two months, no one has gone there. The storeroom holds many things, the key kept by the registrar. People come and go often. Who took the herbs is impossible to say.”
“Then search it now!” Song Huaijin finally saw through the puzzle that had plagued him for days. “No wonder we found no gaps in anyone’s timeline—the killer used this trick. I’ll lead men to search their quarters. Bring back anyone who’s used incense!”
He looked at Qi Ran. “Doctor Shen, save Lord Qi. He has seen the killer. If he wakes, his testimony will be the fastest way. Post Master Liu, guard him well—no mistakes allowed.”
Liu Yishan agreed at once. Song Huaijin signaled Qi Xun to follow and left.
Qi Xun followed, brushing past Fu Jue at the doorway. In that instant, she caught the faint scent of medicine on him. After a few steps, she turned back to glance at him, then asked Song Huaijin, “My lord, do you know what injury the heir suffered?”
Song Huaijin said, “I don’t. But clearly it’s a grave wound to his leg. I don’t know if it will cripple him. If it does, he cannot return to Youzhou to command the army.”
Qi Xun pressed her lips together. “If he’s truly crippled, that would be a pity.”
Song Huaijin tilted his head. “More than a pity. He’s young, having already rendered great service to the Great Zhou and holding military power. He could have won vast territories, even earned his family a princely title. But if crippled, everything changes.”
Qi Xun gave a wry smile. “I don’t understand such matters.”
Song Huaijin raised a brow. “You don’t seem to like him much.”
Qi Xun’s eyes flicked, her smile helpless. “The heir is of noble rank. I’m just a servant—how could I speak of liking or disliking? Once this case ends, I doubt we’ll meet again.”
Song Huaijin thought of how even he had only met Fu Jue twice, and found her words reasonable.
Meanwhile, cotton thread and sewing needles were delivered. Shen Lin first cleansed Qi Ran’s wound with strong liquor, then heated and bent the needle, soaked it again, and finally threaded it to stitch the wound.
Without enough mafeisan, Qi Ran had to endure the agony. Shen Lin ordered two attendants to hold him down. As the needle pierced, Qi Ran awoke in pain, thrashing like a fish out of water. The attendants sweated to restrain him, but Shen Lin’s hand remained steady.
Outside, Fu Jue said, “Let’s go.”
Lin Wei pushed the wheelchair, murmuring, “It seems Lord Qi is tied to the old case too. The Court of Judicial Review still has no clue. Master, must we keep waiting?”
Fu Jue gave a quiet “Mm.”
Lin Wei muttered, “You’re still gravely wounded, our medicines are nearly gone. You shouldn’t push yourself. This time you’re far too leisurely.”
The cold wind struck. Fu Jue covered his mouth, coughing lightly. Lin Wei quickly pulled his fox-fur cloak tighter.
Fu Jue said, “The killer is steering suspicion toward me—perhaps wanting me to remain here because of my status. I suspect he won’t stop. Let’s see who else he draws in.”
Lin Wei hissed. “Qi Ran isn’t enough? There are still two governors, plus Lord Song and Lord Yang—four in all. Will the killer strike again? Who’s next?”
Fu Jue’s voice was calm. “When Chu Qian’s letter arrives, we’ll know. I only wonder if the killer will wait that long.”
Lin Wei looked baffled. “Master, explain?”
Fu Jue coughed again, then shook his head, silent—clearly unwilling to elaborate. Lin Wei pouted. “Yet just now you spoke plenty…”
Inside the post station, many were devout Buddhists, so incense was common. In just one courtyard by the east gate, they found more than ten bundles of incense. Song Huaijin interrogated each owner, but all claimed they had bought them from traveling peddlers, and others vouched for them. When Qi Xun examined them one by one, she found no difference.
In the second courtyard, they again found ten bundles of incense. This time, the owner was none other than Hu Li, who was still on the back mountain. His roommate explained: “Hu Li is deeply devout. He often goes to the mountain to offer incense, so he keeps many sticks. But all of these were purchased.”
The incense was uniform, none homemade. In Hu Li’s quarters stood a bronze censer, with one stick just burned out. His roommate added, “That was lit last night before bed.”
Hu Li had the habit of lighting incense at night. If he had swapped in soporific incense at midnight, no one would have noticed. Qi Xun asked, “Did you feel unusually drowsy in the latter half of the night?”
The man looked puzzled. “We do heavy labor by day. At night, we always sleep soundly.”
Song Huaijin asked, “Who else likes to burn incense?”
“There’s Xu Li and Li Yang. They share a room and often light incense.” He pointed to the opposite quarters. “Li Yang went up the mountain. Xu Li is at the stables shoveling snow.”
Their quarters were locked, so Song Huaijin and Qi Xun went to the stables. The snow had just cleared, and barns and stables gleamed white. Horses, though hardy, needed their stalls cleared. Most workers had gone up the mountain with the Court of Judicial Review, so the task fell to Xu Li.
Several fine horses roamed freely. Xu Li labored with an iron shovel, sweating despite the cold. As he shoveled closer, a horse reared and neighed. Xu Li stopped to soothe it, speaking softly, then mimicked a neigh so well the horse calmed.
Seeing Song Huaijin and Qi Xun approach, Xu Li set down his shovel and greeted them. “My lord, my lady, what brings you here?”
Song Huaijin smiled. “We’re looking for incense. We heard you have some.”
Xu Li wiped his face. “Indeed, I do. I’ll fetch it for you.” He was cheerful and obliging, leaving his shovel to go to his quarters.
Qi Xun asked, “Brother Xu, why don’t you ask why we need incense?”
Xu Li turned back. “Weren’t you going up the mountain today? Is it to worship Guanyin?”
He had misunderstood. Qi Xun smiled and said nothing. Xu Li continued, “If you’re devout, you must offer incense at our Guanyin Temple. The Bodhisattva here is more responsive than elsewhere!”
His words made Song Huaijin laugh. “If Guanyin hears you, surely your wishes will come true.”
Xu Li chuckled. “They already have. I used to be addicted to wine, wasting all my money. But after worshiping the Bodhisattva, I quit naturally. Isn’t that wish fulfilled?”
Song Huaijin thought: not the Bodhisattva’s power, but the loss of your toes that forced you. He asked, “I heard you were injured before. Was it serious? Another of your fellows was hurt too, and later turned to faith.”
Xu Li’s face clouded. “He was injured first. Later, when I was hurt, he was there—and we were quarreling. If not distracted by that quarrel, I might not have been injured.”
Song Huaijin and Qi Xun exchanged a glance. “So that’s how it was?”
Xu Li smiled. “In the end, it was my fault. I lay bedridden for two months. I realized wine was nothing. If I hadn’t stolen wine and been punished with endless wood-chopping, I wouldn’t have been hurt. The Bodhisattva saw my sin and gave me a lesson. If I ever die from drink, that would be truly irredeemable.”
Speaking thus, he opened his quarters without hesitation, letting them in. He opened a low cabinet and brought out several bundles of incense. Like Hu Li, he had a censer filled with sticks.
“Is this all? Nothing else?”
Xu Li shook his head. Song Huaijin asked, “Do you make incense yourself?”
Again, he shook his head. Song Huaijin fell into thought. Recalling his words, he asked, “Do you go to the Guanyin Temple more often, or does Hu Li? And do you know of the Buddhist hells?”
Xu Li replied, “Hu Li goes more. He’s a station runner; I’m a laborer, busy with barns and stables. I only go on festivals. As for Buddhist hells, of course, I know. We often talk of Buddhist tales, and everyone knows of hell and rebirth.”
Qi Xun examined the censer. The incense sticks were many, but none were unusual. She shook her head at Song Huaijin, who looked disappointed. He asked Xu Li, “Who in the station makes incense themselves?”
To mix Drunken Immortal Peach seed powder into incense sticks, one must remake the incense—something not everyone can do. Xu Li thought for a moment. “I’ve never seen anyone make incense themselves. Everyone buys it from the same peddlers. If someone could make it, they’d save some money.”
The search yielded nothing. Clearly, the killer had secretly crafted incense while hiding in plain sight. Leaving the courtyard, Song Huaijin and Qi Xun discussed Xu Li’s earlier words. “Xu Li said that when he was injured, Hu Li was beside him. What do you think?”
Qi Xun immediately understood his meaning. “Hu Li is from Tanzhou, not Li Family Village or Lotus Village. His build does resemble General Xin’s—but he’s not the only one. Xu Li also looks somewhat like General Xin. Yet Lord Qi said the man he saw was Xue Mingli.”
Song Huaijin frowned. “Who exactly is this Xue Mingli? If only Lord Qi could wake and identify him. I don’t even know if he’ll survive. Come, let’s check.”
Back in the chamber, Shen Lin was washing his hands. Qi Ran’s face was tightly wrapped in cotton cloth, leaving only his nose, mouth, and eyes exposed. His body was bandaged as well, though fresh blood already seeped through.
Seeing Song Huaijin return, Shen Lin said, “I’ve done all I can. Now it depends on his will to live. If he endures three days, he’ll survive. I’ll change his medicine daily.”
Song Huaijin thanked him, then asked, “When will he wake?”
Shen Lin glanced at Qi Ran. “Hard to say. Perhaps in a day—or perhaps never.” He departed.
Song Huaijin, troubled, turned to Yang Fei and the others. “We found no Drunken Immortal Peach or soporific incense. The killer must have hidden them well. Lord Qi is our best lead, but we don’t know when he’ll wake.”
He looked to Liu Yishan. “Bring me the registry of everyone here, except those from Li Family Village and Lotus Village. I want to see their origins and families.”
Leaving men to guard Qi Ran, Liu Yishan went for the records.
Song Huaijin, mindful of the Court of Judicial Review’s limited manpower, told Yang Fei, “Have your men stay here. If the killer learns Qi Ran lives, he won’t rest.”
Yang Fei agreed. He had some friendship with Qi Ran, and seeing him near death, his face darkened. “The killer hides so deeply, clearly plotting for long. Now even Lord Qi has fallen victim—”
“Qi Ran said the killer was Xue Mingli. If he recognized him, they must be old acquaintances. That explains it. Xue Mingli lurks in the shadows, while they are exposed—it’s easy to be caught off guard.” Song Huaijin paused. “Last night, Qi Ran deliberately lured the killer out, but was wounded instead. If he had told us earlier, he wouldn’t have suffered so.”
Wu Han and Liu Xie were shocked. Wu Han asked, “Lord Qi lured the killer out himself?”
Song Huaijin shook his head, unwilling to elaborate. “He must know the old case. When he wakes, we must question him. If he stays silent, none of the station runners can protect him.”
Liu Yishan soon returned with the registry. Song Huaijin skimmed it. No mention of Xue Mingli, nor any family named Xue. He muttered, “Strange. If it’s Xue Mingli, why didn’t Qi Ran recognize him earlier? Nor General Xin, nor Lord Yu?”
Yang Fei swallowed. “Twelve years have passed. A man’s appearance can change greatly.”
Song Huaijin doubted. “Not that much. The eyes and brows don’t change—unless a fat man becomes thin, or a thin man grows fat.”
Yang Fei shook his head, equally puzzled. After a moment, he said, “I’ll stay and guard Qi Ran. If he wakes, I’ll summon you at once. Better than risking another attack.”
Song Huaijin agreed. “Very well. He’s in your care.”
The day was full of troubles. Song Huaijin worried about Xie Nanke’s investigation in the village, and about the search for bones on the mountain. Qi Ran’s injury had yielded no direct clue, leaving him anxious. Since the Court of Judicial Review arrived, the killer had struck three more times. Without evidence, they would seem incompetent. He handed the registry to Qi Xun, intending to return to the mountain. But before he could leave, Wang Su entered, boots muddy with snow. “My lord, we found it—”
Everyone turned pale. Wang Su continued, “The bones were buried in a wooden box on the mountain. From the jewelry inside, the victim was a woman.”
A single name rose in everyone’s mind.
Wu Shuang.
The victim was Wu Shuang.