“We found the temple master. He said that in this pine forest, there were several spots where trees had failed to grow for years, as if the soil beneath had lost water. We dug at those places, and within half a day we uncovered it.”
Wang Su pointed to the pit before them. “The wooden box had rotted. Stones were piled on top. Beneath, the bones were exposed. As we dug, we found many broken fragments.”
The pit was half a man deep. Four or five stone slabs had been removed. At the bottom lay scattered bones and tattered cloth.
Qi Xun crouched to examine the bones, rotten wood, cloth scraps, and two pieces of jewelry. She said, “The cloth is ordinary cotton. The jewelry—silver earrings and a silver bracelet—is not costly. From the bones: they are light, the skull wall is thin, the brow ridges are not pronounced, and the bone surface is smooth. These are a woman’s remains.”
Her eyes narrowed. She rubbed snow across the skull to clean off dirt. A crack appeared atop the skull, and a depression at the left rear occipital bone. Her face darkened. Examining the limb bones, she found more fractures. “The skull has two severe injuries. The body shows multiple fractures. She may have been abused before death. We must take the remains back for detailed examination.”
She noticed nails and wood fragments nearby. The nails had fastened the box. Reassembling the pieces, she realized with alarm: “The box is only one foot square. An adult could never fit—unless—”
Song Huaijin understood. “Unless they broke her bones and forced her inside.”
Qi Xun studied the two-inch nails. “Such boxes are rare in common households—crude, nailed, impractical. They look like cargo crates. We should ask Stationmaster Liu if the post station had such boxes.”
Song Huaijin sent Jiang Ming to inquire. The others stayed until all bones were recovered. By nightfall, they returned to the station. Qi Xun examined the remains in Yu Ming’s quarters.
Four long tables now held corpses. The central hall was for autopsy. Qi Xun moved Wu Yue’s body aside and laid out the woman’s bones.
“The deceased was about four feet seven inches tall, aged eighteen or nineteen. The skull shows two major injuries: a curved fracture on the parietal bone, likely from a fall after being shoved, and a depressed fracture on the left occipital bone, caused by a blunt strike. The wound suggests a hard, narrow object—like a paperweight, fire tongs, or the back of a blade. This was likely fatal. Such a fracture causes brain bleeding, leading to coma and eventually death.”
Inside, lamps burned bright against the dark night. Qi Xun carefully wiped the skull. “It’s possible she was only unconscious when placed in the box.”
Song Huaijin shivered at the thought. “If she woke—”
Qi Xun shook her head. “Unlikely. She had many fractures, two of them fatal.”
She reconstructed the skeleton. Pointing to the cervical vertebrae: “This fracture likely occurred when her head was forced into the box. The lumbar spine and ribs also show fractures, probably from violent blows. These injuries could have killed her.”
“Her right kneecap, foot bones, and ankle joints also fractured. I suspect these were caused when the killer folded her body into the box. Transporting it to the mountain, pressure and jolts worsened the damage.”
She concluded, “No sharp weapon marks. The killer used brute force, likely a man. Given the difficulty of fitting her into such a small box, perhaps more than one killer.”
She lifted the left forearm bone. “This arm had an old fracture, healed years ago. She died at eighteen or nineteen, so the injury was at fifteen or sixteen.”
Song Huaijin’s eyes lit. “A girl injured at fifteen or sixteen, dead at eighteen or nineteen—there can’t be many like that in Lotus Village or Li Family Village. When Nanke returns, I’ll ask.”
Though all suspected the victim was Wu Shuang, evidence was needed. Qi Xun had to be certain.
At the start of the Hai hour, Xie Nanke returned with Jiang Ming. He had spent the day visiting the villages. Hearing of the discovery, he reported:
“My lord, those we suspected grew up in the villages, later served at the station. Their lives are simple. They all have kin in the villages. Their ties to the Wu siblings were ordinary. None had motive for revenge.”
Song Huaijin asked, “When you inquired about the Wu siblings, did you hear that the elder sister was injured?”
Xie Nanke’s eyes brightened. “Yes. At fifteen, Wu Shuang broke her arm. That was when she met a wandering master. He set her arm, saw promise in Wu Yue, and wished to take him as a disciple. Wu Yue was timid and reclusive, but out of gratitude for saving his sister, he followed the master to the capital.”
Song Huaijin turned to Qi Xun. “Then this must be Wu Shuang without doubt!”
He looked to Jiang Ming. “Was the box found?”
Jiang Ming carried in a dusty wooden box. “Found it. See if this looks the same.”
Qi Xun and Song Huaijin examined it closely. The more they looked, the more convinced they were.
Qi Xun said, “The nails are identical, the wood the same. Where was this found?”
“In the station storeroom. They said the box was bought over ten years ago by the former stationmaster to store wine. He loved drinking, so he built a wine cellar to entertain passing officials. When Liu Yishan arrived, a few crates of wine remained. Over time, they were finished, and the boxes were reused. Now only a few remain.”
The box Jiang Ming held was even smaller than old Zhang’s bamboo basket. Even if Wu Shuang was frail, they could hardly imagine how a nineteen-year-old girl was forced inside.
Song Huaijin looked at Wu Shuang’s remains, then at Wu Yue’s bones in the warm chamber. His heart sank. “The siblings were murdered. The box used to hide the body was from the station, proving the sister died here. Yu Ming, Xin Yuanxiu, Qi Ran—all killed by punishments modeled on Buddhist hells. Each hell’s punishment is tied to the sin of killing. And Xin Yuanxiu died by the ‘Crying Hell,’ which also punishes lust. Could it be—”
He turned to Xie Nanke. “Did you ask what Wu Shuang looked like?”
Xie Nanke replied quickly. “Villagers said she was very pretty. Several families wanted her as a bride. But she wished to wait until her younger brother had prospects, so she refused. Thus, she remained unmarried at nineteen.”
Song Huaijin’s mind darkened. The others felt a chill. Wu Shuang not only died miserably—she may have suffered unspeakable torment before death. Her despair was unimaginable.
“My lord—Lord Qi has awakened!”
Breaking the silence, Zhang Xun’s voice rang out. He rushed to the door. “Lord Song, Lord Qi is awake!”
Song Huaijin’s eyes lit. He strode to see Qi Ran. The others hesitated, then followed. In Qi Ran’s chamber, Shen Lin was already there, summoned by Liu Yishan, checking his pulse.
Seeing Song Huaijin, Shen Lin said, “He woke from pain. He won’t last long. Ask now—there’s no better medicine here. He must endure.”
Song Huaijin stepped to the bed. “Lord Qi? What did you do to the Wu siblings back then?”
Qi Ran’s face was riddled with wounds, one eye bandaged, the other barely open. Hearing the question, his pupil trembled. His voice rasped: “Go… send… me away…”
Song Huaijin frowned. “Where do you want to go? Tell us what happened. If we catch the killer, he cannot harm you. If you stay silent, we cannot protect you. Will you speak or not?”
Qi Ran gasped, as if strangled by invisible hands. His eye shifted to Yang Fei behind Song Huaijin. “Go… I… go…”
Yang Fei grimaced. “In this snow, how can we send you away? Your wounds are too grave—you’d die on the road. Better tell us what the killer looks like!”
Desperate, Yang Fei pressed. Qi Ran wheezed, “Xue… Mingli…”
“Are you certain? What does he look like?”
“Not clear… it’s him… years ago… ran…” His words were broken.
Song Huaijin could not grasp the meaning. “You didn’t see clearly? Then how do you know it’s him? Twelve years ago? Ran what?”
Qi Ran, drenched in cold sweat, was fading. He kept muttering, “Go… I go…”
All knew he wanted to flee, proof of his terror. Song Huaijin tried to press further, but Qi Ran’s voice dwindled. Soon, he closed his eyes and lay still.
Shen Lin sighed. “He’s fainted again. His wounds still bleed. This sleep may last long. Best not disturb him tonight. If he wakes tomorrow, his spirit will be stronger.”
Song Huaijin stepped back with a sigh. “Then we can only wait until he wakes tomorrow.” He turned to Yang Fei. “Lord Yang, you are familiar with Lord Qi. Did his words mean he didn’t clearly see the killer’s face?”
Yang Fei’s expression was tight with worry. “That must be it. At midnight, in the dark, it’s easy not to see clearly. From what I know, Lord Qi was skilled in martial arts, yet he was subdued. The killer must also be trained.”
Song Huaijin pressed further. “Do you know what connection Lord Qi had with Lord Yu and General Xin?”
Yang Fei shook his head. “I only met Lord Qi a few times. I don’t know Lord Yu or General Xin, nor did Qi Ran ever mention them. I truly don’t know.”
Song Huaijin’s voice grew heavy. “We’ve found Wu Shuang’s remains. She was murdered. Her brother, too. Their deaths must be tied to Lord Yu and the others. But what is Xue Mingli’s connection to the Wu siblings? He was a scholar, while they were villagers. Why would he avenge them?”
Yang Fei frowned. “We’ve never even heard of this man. What can we do?”
Song Huaijin drew a deep breath. “We must send someone back to the capital, to the Ministry of Rites, to check the examination records. Yu Ming, Xin Yuanxiu, Qi Ran, and Xue Mingli may all have been fellow scholars of the same year. If we uncover their ties, the truth will emerge.”
Yang Fei’s eyes flickered.
At that moment, Shen Lin spoke. “Lord Song, no need to send anyone. Two days ago, my master already dispatched Chu Qian to the capital to investigate their backgrounds. If all goes well, a reply will arrive by the day after tomorrow.”
Song Huaijin was astonished. Two days ago, Xin Yuanxiu was killed, and Fu Jue was the prime suspect—yet he had already sent someone to investigate Yu Ming and the others. He had suspected then that the officials’ ties were not simple.
“This… the heir never mentioned it. This should have been our duty…”
Shen Lin gave a faint smile. “You suspected us. We did this to prove our innocence.”
Song Huaijin coughed lightly. “A misunderstanding, nothing more. I’ll pay my respects to the heir later.”
Knowing Fu Jue had acted ahead of the Court of Judicial Review, Song Huaijin could not ignore it. He ordered Liu Yishan to guard Qi Ran well, then went to Fu Jue’s quarters.
Meanwhile, Qi Xun, Zhou Wei, and Xie Nanke walked back together.
Qi Xun said, “Lord Qi’s words were unclear. He spoke of twelve years ago, and of running. Could it be that back then, they tried to kill the Wu siblings and also Xue Mingli—but Xue Mingli escaped?”
Zhou Wei sighed. “The key lies with Xue Mingli. We don’t know when the young heir’s message will arrive.”
Xie Nanke mused. “The heir thought faster than us. Two days ago, he already sent word to the capital. We never imagined these officials might have killed someone together.”
Qi Xun frowned. “Besides Yu Ming, Xin Yuanshou, and Qi Ran, could there be a fourth?”
The cold night wind cut sharply. Her words chilled them all. Zhou Wei muttered, “This killer is too cunning. Especially the way Lord Yu was killed—we still haven’t unraveled it.”
Qi Xun felt she was missing something, but couldn’t grasp it. She asked Xie Nanke, “In the village today, did you hear more about the Wu siblings?”
Xie Nanke nodded. “Plenty, mostly about Wu Shuang. After Wu Yue left for the capital at fourteen, villagers saw him less. They said Wu Shuang was diligent, devoted to her brother, and kind to the elderly. Aside from her accident, she was well-regarded.”
Qi Xun listened, her heart heavy. She asked, “Do we know what the brother did in the capital? Xue Mingli was a scholar from there—perhaps he and Wu Yue were acquaintances.”
Xie Nanke replied, “I heard his master was a wandering teacher—skilled in medicine, martial arts, tricks, and feng shui. He even performed in the village twice.”
Qi Xun listened absently until one word struck her—“tricks.” Her heart tightened. The killer had once disguised himself as Xin Yuanxiu to frame the heir of Linjiang. If he could impersonate one man, could he impersonate others?
Perhaps old Zhang with the bamboo basket at dawn, or even Yu Ming, alive at noon that day.