The fire broke out in the northwest of the station. Qi Xun rushed over and saw Song Huaijin at the edge of the blaze, cloak thrown over his shoulders, hair disheveled, a smear of soot across his cheek—looking rather battered.
“My lord! What happened?”
Song Huaijin’s face was grim. “Someone set the fire at midnight.”
“Set the fire?” Qi Xun had not yet grasped it when Zhou Wei came up carrying a bucket of water. “Someone tried to burn us alive!”
Qi Xun quickly looked toward the flames. The blaze was fiercest in the three central side rooms. The snow had stopped, and fire licked along the eaves, spreading to the adjacent unused courtyard. Clerks and officers from the Court of Judicial Review were all helping to fight the fire, but the water source was far away, and it seemed inevitable that the buildings would be consumed.
“How do you know it was arson?”
Zhou Wei pointed to the right‑hand room. “That’s where the Vice Minister and I lodged. The fire started at the wall, and we smelled tung oil—sharp and unmistakable. From the first spark to now has been only the time of two cups of tea. If we had slept more deeply, we might never have escaped.” He was also covered in soot.
Qi Xun could hardly believe it—barely a day since the Court’s arrival, someone had already dared such a brazen attempt on imperial officials. She asked, “What lies next door?”
“It’s unused—just old papers and junk. The killer didn’t dare approach our courtyard, so they lit the fire from there. When we chased after, they were already gone.”
Qi Xun’s heart pounded.
At that moment, Liu Yishan came running, breathless. “My lord, two wells are frozen. Only one remains usable. I’ve ordered water from the boiler room. Fortunately, the fire hasn’t spread far. My lord, it’s too cold—let us handle the fire. You should rest.”
But Song Huaijin’s eyes burned hotter than the flames. “Rest? Rest so the killer can hide? First Yu Ming, now this—seeing the Court investigate, they dare strike at us too. No one rests. We will search the entire Furong Station!”
Liu Yishan’s legs nearly gave way. Who could have imagined someone bold enough to set fire to kill the Court’s men?
“Where shall we search first, my lord?”
Song Huaijin’s gaze swept the compound. “The nearest courtyard is that of the heir of Marquis Linjiang, is it not?”
He had visited Fu Jue’s quarters earlier that day and knew the direction. Without waiting for an answer, he strode off with several men. Qi Xun followed, glancing back at the flames leaping skyward, smoke billowing. She could not fathom—why was someone so desperate to kill, when no evidence yet pointed to the culprit?
They soon reached Fu Jue’s courtyard. The gate stood open, lights blazing—clearly they too had been roused by the fire. Song Huaijin stormed in, and Lin Wei was already waiting at the door.
“Did you leave your quarters tonight?” Song Huaijin demanded.
Lin Wei replied calmly: “Of course not. But when the fire broke out, our master knew you would come to search, so we awaited you. Please, Vice Minister—”
The more open they seemed, the more Song Huaijin felt like striking cotton—frustrated and powerless. He barged into the main hall. Qi Xun, after a moment’s thought, stayed outside. Wandering the courtyard, she noticed beneath the eaves a patch where snow had melted. There lay a heap of dregs—medicine residue. She stepped closer, trying to discern the herbs. Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned sharply to meet Lin Wei’s cold gaze.
Qi Xun steadied herself, smiled brightly, her eyes lit by lantern glow. Lin Wei had meant to scold her for suspicious behavior, but her composure disarmed him. He clenched his jaw, said nothing, and walked away.
Her smile faded. She exhaled softly, then bent again to examine the medicine dregs.
Soon Song Huaijin emerged. Qi Xun hurried after him. Outside the courtyard, she whispered: “My lord, last night I asked Zhang Xun. He said when Marquis Linjiang’s coffin was brought back to the capital, they stopped here for a night. So the heir has been here before. And I saw the medicines—inside and out, all strong remedies for wounds. His injuries must be severe.”
Song Huaijin’s voice was low. “There is nothing unusual here. But as I said, though he is wounded, his attendants are skilled in arms. He need not kill with his own hand. Let us continue eastward.”
As soon as the Court’s men left, Lin Wei said to Fu Jue: “My lord, that coroner was examining the medicine dregs outside. She must suspect your injuries are feigned.”
Fu Jue raised his brows, then let a faint smile slip across his lips. Lin Wei sighed helplessly. “My lord, you still laugh? When have we ever suffered such indignity in Youzhou?”
Fu Jue tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “Keep close watch on the case. See what they uncover—especially observe that girl’s skill in autopsy.”
Lin Wei exchanged glances with the others. “My lord, you mean—”
Fu Jue said softly: “In case she may one day be of use to us.”
…
Song Huaijin had just reached the eastern quarters when Tian Wanchun came hurrying up in his robe. “Vice Minister Song, how could a fire break out? Was it the killer?” His face was full of fear. “The killer dared to strike even at you. Who is he? This place is no longer safe. Whatever happens, I must leave tomorrow morning.”
His voice was frantic. Behind him, Qi Ran and the others arrived. Song Huaijin, seeing them all together, asked about the night’s events.
Qi Ran explained: “I heard the commotion first. Fearing the fire would spread, I went to call General Xin. Together, we roused Prefects Wu and Liu. Eunuch Tian came to us on his own.”
Song Huaijin studied them for a moment. “The fire was set deliberately. We are searching the entire station. If you do not mind, we must inspect your quarters.”
Qi Ran hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Look, as you please.”
Xin Yuanshou and the others readily agreed. Song Huaijin led his men to check each residence. They did not ransack, but examined thoroughly. Nothing unusual was found. Yet Tian Wanchun’s panic cast gloom over the rest.
Song Huaijin said: “From now on, let your attendants lodge with you. The Court will continue investigating today. Tomorrow, Eunuch Tian and General Xin may depart if they must. Lord Qi and the two prefects, having no urgent duties, should remain two more days. The Court will ensure your safety.”
Qi Ran agreed cheerfully. Wu Han and Liu Xie, after some hesitation, also stayed.
Finding nothing, Song Huaijin did not linger. He returned to the fire site. Liu Yishan reported anxiously: “The only tung oil in the station is in the granary. Otherwise, only lamps. The floor heating cannot cause such a blaze…”
Hearing this, Qi Xun said: “The weather is dry, and with floor heating, even a spark could ignite a room—let alone tung oil. But my lord, did you discover anything last night? Otherwise, why would the killer be so desperate? Even if you were harmed, the court would send others. Surely the killer knows this?”
Song Huaijin’s eyes narrowed. “We found little last night. I also cannot fathom why the killer struck so hastily.”
By dawn, only charred ruins remained. The judicial officers who questioned the clerks returned empty‑handed. The fire broke out when all were asleep. Once awakened, each had companions as witnesses. Everyone had a perfect alibi.
Song Huaijin thought carefully. “When the fire started, we woke quickly and smelled tung oil. Yet when we pursued, the culprit had vanished. Either he is extraordinarily skilled—or he had a hiding place very near.”
He looked north, toward Fu Jue’s courtyard. “Conveniently, we have one place that fits both conditions.” He gave a cold laugh and ordered Wang Su: “Set a sharp eye to watch the heir’s quarters.”
Wang Su obeyed. Qi Xun’s suspicion of Fu Jue deepened. Just then, a station clerk came hurrying from outside.
“Post Master, Prefect Yang of Tanzhou has arrived!”
At the words, Liu Yishan quickly turned to Song Huaijin. “Vice Minister, the day Lord Yu died, we sent word to Tanzhou city. The matter was grave—I dared not be careless.”
Furong Station lay on the border between Tanzhou and the capital. By jurisdiction, it fell under Tanzhou’s authority. Song Huaijin gave no comment. Soon, a middle‑aged man in plain clothes followed a clerk in at a brisk pace.
This was Yang Fei, Prefect of Tanzhou, about the same age as Song Huaijin. Because of his proximity to the capital, he sometimes entered the court, and Song Huaijin had met him twice before. Though Yang Fei had traveled overnight, he still arrived later than the Court of Judicial Review. He apologized at once, and when he heard of the fire the previous night, he was shocked.
“Someone set a fire? Are the other officials safe?”
Liu Yishan hurried to assure him. “Rest easy, my lord. All the others are unharmed.”
Yang Fei did not yet know who was lodging at the station, so he asked. When Liu Yishan explained, Yang Fei was briefly startled, then quickly composed himself. “These men are pillars of the court. I have brought ample men. We must protect them.”
Song Huaijin asked: “Do you know any of them? Did you know Lord Yu?”
Yang Fei replied: “I have met Lord Qi a few times. The others, not at all. Lord Yu, I saw once years ago in the capital, never since.”
Now that Yang Fei had arrived, the case was formally under the Court’s lead, with Tanzhou assisting. Song Huaijin laid out all they knew.
Hearing that the killer sought to cloak the crime with the Guanyin Temple’s curse, Yang Fei said at once: “Curses? Mere rumor among the people. But if the killer used it, he is likely local.”
He added: “Why not investigate the local clerks and laborers? Or see if any are from Yanzhou—perhaps they bore grudges against Lord Yu. Or else, this winter has been bitter. Snow disasters have struck everywhere. Some resent officials when harvests fail, and in anger, may kill. Deputy Minister, you in the capital may not know—here in the provinces, such malcontents are not rare.”
His words gave Song Huaijin pause. Indeed, the winter had been harsh, with many deaths north of the capital. He found the reasoning sound, and ordered Liu Yishan to bring the station’s personnel records.
Qi Xun, listening, also thought it a useful direction. Remembering Yu Ming’s body was not yet fully examined, she went to the side room where it lay. Zhou Wei, her recorder, followed, and Liu Yishan sent Zhang Xun to assist.
Halfway there, they saw an old man in his fifties slip past with two bamboo baskets. Qi Xun looked after him. Zhang Xun explained: “That is Old Zhang. He cleans filth and refuse. Each morning he enters by the east gate, clears it, and carries it out. He also empties the night soil.”
Qi Xun nodded and entered the chamber to examine the corpse.
Yu Ming’s cause of death was known, but how the killer staged it remained a mystery. His servant had heard him alive at noon. If Yu Ming left his room that day, where did he go? How had no one seen him?
She asked Zhang Xun: “How many gates does the station have? Are they guarded?”
“Three. The main gate, and the east and west corner gates. The east gate leads to the horse pond, the west to the back mountain. The main gate is guarded. The corner gates are barred at night, but open by day.”
Qi Xun carefully re‑examined Yu Ming’s clothing.
Dismembered and returned to his room—where had he gone in between? His clothes might hold the answer. But the bloodstains were heavy. She found nothing. Then she looked at his shoes.
He wore black official boots. The soles were caked with old mud. He had traveled half a month—unsurprising. Yet Qi Xun scraped the mud away. Suddenly her eyes narrowed.
Among the clods lay a green needle‑like plant. She studied it closely.
“Brother Zhang, where in the station grows black pine?”
It was a pine needle, slender as an embroidery pin. Zhang Xun thought.
“Nowhere in the station. Only in the pine forest on the back mountain.”
Qi Xun straightened at once. “The back mountain? Anywhere else?”
Zhang Xun added: “Only the mountains toward the capital have them—”
But Yu Ming had not yet set out for the capital!
She turned to Zhou Wei. “Go fetch Lord Yu’s servant.”
Though young, Zhou Wei was quick. In the time of a cup of tea, he returned with a dejected youth—Yu Ming’s page.
Qi Xun asked: “After you arrived at the station that day, did your master ever leave?”
The page shook his head. “No. We arrived in the afternoon. My master set down his baggage, then met with the other officials, then drank and dined—”
Later, Yu Ming drank too much and was escorted back by the servants. He should have slept soundly until the next day. At noon, his servant knocked and heard him answer. But what if Yu Ming had secretly gone up the back mountain that afternoon and had been killed there?
She asked: “How is your master’s drinking capacity?”
The page nodded. “He is from Yanzhou. He holds his liquor well.”
Yanzhou was famed for its wine. Qi Xun looked at the pine needle. “The Guanyin Temple is on the back mountain?”
Zhang Xun confirmed. “From the west gate, there is a small path from the station to the temple, a half-hour’s walk. Villagers take another road.”
Qi Xun asked the page: “Did your master ever mention the temple’s miracles?”
Zhang Xun and Zhou Wei thought he would nod. But the page shook his head. “No. He never spoke of it. I only heard later from others in the station.”
Qi Xun looked at Yu Ming’s shrouded corpse. “Inform the lord. We must go to the Guanyin Temple.”
Zhou Wei darted off. Qi Xun then asked Zhang Xun: “You said you had seen two of the officials before. But Lord Yu—had you ever seen him?”
Zhang Xun shook his head.“No. I’ve worked here seven or eight years, rarely taking leave. This was the first time I saw him. Likely, he hurried on past before, not stopping at the station.”
Yu Ming could not have been making his first report to the capital. Yet in seven or eight years, this was his first time at Furong Station—or perhaps he had come before, but Zhang Xun was off duty.
Qi Xun asked: “The station keeps records of which officials lodged here, on which dates, correct?”
“Yes. All are recorded.”
At this, Qi Xun’s brows knit. Records… written records…
Her expression changed. She quickly told Zhang Xun to lock the room and left. Striding fast, she turned a corner—and ran into Song Huaijin. Beside him stood Yang Fei, Qi Ran, and Fu Jue in his wheelchair!
She had no time for courtesy. “My lord—we were wrong! Last night’s fire was not aimed at you!”
Song Huaijin was startled. “What do you mean?”
“The arsonist targeted the courtyard next to yours—the one storing records. If I am right, that courtyard holds documents of officials who lodged here before. Lord Yu was not visiting for the first time! If we uncover what happened during his earlier stays, we will find the key to solving this case!”