LBLCPCB C5

Chapter 5

Zhu Song had not slept a wink the whole night. When he arrived at the Judicial Court before dawn, he originally intended to search through the archives, but his eyelids were so heavy he could barely keep them open. Deciding he’d be of no use exhausted, he went to rest first.

Occasionally, when work was pressing, officials could not return home every day—thus all officials ranked Si Zhengⁱ and above had personal chambers for rest inside the Court.

The capital had been mostly at peace these past two years, so Zhu Song had long stopped using his chamber. Dust coated his bed; by the time he finished fetching fresh bedding and making the bed, dawn had already broken. Still early, he told himself he would “nap for a moment.”

But that “moment” lasted until nearly noon. Only the aroma of food from the mess hall finally lured him awake.

Stepping outside, Zhu Song asked the officer on duty at the door: “No business this morning, right?”

The runner replied: “Prefect Qu came to see you, but Lord Gu called him away.”

Zhu Song frowned. Could it be that there was a lead about the strange man?

“Where is Lord Gu now?”

The runner glanced at the sky. “At this hour, likely in the mess hall having lunch.”

If Gu had the leisure to be eating, then the matter was not urgent. Relieved, Zhu Song headed to the mess hall. As expected, there was Gu Huaiyu in the center seat. Zhu Song got his own meal and sat across from him. “What did Old Qu want with me?”

Gu Huaiyu lifted his eyes. “He said you claimed his tea was the finest, so he delivered you a pot.”

“Just that?”

Not pressing the jest, Gu turned to business. “Word of last night’s events has already spread through the capital. The streets are saying the strange creature was a Qingxing². He wanted your opinion.”

Zhu Song remembered. The Classic of Mountains and Seas³ records:

‘There is a beast shaped like a monkey with white ears. It crouches low yet leaps at men, with a green face and protruding fangs. It craves human blood. Its name is the Qingxing. Whoever eats it shall lengthen his years and prolong his life.’

“The authenticity of the Shan Hai Jing has always been questionable,” Zhu Song muttered. “Likely some mischief‑maker spreading confusion.”

Gu only said: “True or not, the phrase ‘lengthen life’ is irresistible. Now the whole capital spontaneously hunts this Qingxing. The city is boiling with it.”

“So then Old Qu’s under pressure. Fail to catch it and he’ll be blamed,” Zhu Song pointed out.

“Indeed,” Gu agreed. “With so many searching, they will catch something sooner or later. But if word reaches higher ears, Old Qu will truly have to drink bitter tea⁴.”

Zhu Song recalled the figure he’d glimpsed in the night. “No secret between us—I saw it too.”

Gu’s brows rose, beckoning him to continue.

“Though just a glance, I am certain it was a man. Not a beast.”

Gu fell silent for a long moment. At last he murmured: “Let us hope this doesn’t reach the throne.”

But what one fears most always comes. They had barely finished lunch before an imperial summons arrived for Zhu Song—an audience with the Emperor.

He and Qu Zhoubai entered Qinzhen Hall together. One glance sufficed to confirm what this was about.

Both bowed deeply. “Your Majesty.”

Emperor Liang, now past fifty, sat in solemn dignity, majestic without anger. “Rise.”

“We thank Your Majesty.”

The Emperor turned first to Qu Zhoubai. “The Qingxing sightings of recent days—how proceeds the investigation?”

Qu clasped hands respectfully: “Your servant has dispatched every constable of the Capital Prefecture to search, but we uncovered nothing, as though the being vanished into thin air. Then last night it appeared again, yet our investigations yielded no traces.”

The Emperor’s gaze moved to Zhu Song. “Were you present last night?”

Zhu Song’s heart leapt. Bowing, he replied quickly: “Yes. Last night, a member of my household fell ill. Our physician was absent, so I went to fetch one. Passing Changning Street I heard cries for help, and thus arrived on scene.”

The Emperor did not probe about his household, only ordered: “Since you also were involved, join Zhoubai in handling it. Capture this Qingxing without delay. I too would like to see its form with my own eyes.”

The meaning was plain: whether it truly existed or not, it must be seized. Zhu Song had intended to argue that the Qingxing was conjecture, but faced with this imperial command, no words could be spoken. Proof would only come once the culprit was in hand.

“Yes, as Your Majesty commands.”

When they emerged from the Hall, Zhu Song asked quietly: “How are things now?”

“Still searching,” Qu replied.

“Then I will have Judicial Court officers assist. Whether man or ghost, we must find him.”

Qu nodded. With the Emperor’s word, delay no longer possible.

Back at the Court, Zhu Song shared the news with Gu Huaiyu, who showed no surprise.

Seven days later, the streets were swarming with joint patrols of constables, yet not a trace appeared. The three sat together at the Prefecture, brows heavy with gloom. How could they report failure?

“Perhaps he isn’t Qingxing at all?” Gu speculated. “Think—if he is human, perhaps he has already left the city.”

“Then heaven knows where to seek him,” Zhu Song replied.

Qu shrugged, despairing. “Then we search within the city. If not found, so be it.”

Gu shot him a sharp glance. “He appeared twice. Once on Changxi Street, once on Changning Street. Perhaps we should analyze what those places had in common.”

“I’ll fetch a map,” Qu offered, hurrying off.

Zhu Song thought back carefully. “That night, he patted my shoulder. Yet he didn’t try to bite me. I also smelled a strong fragrance—butterfly orchids.”

“Butterfly orchids?” Gu’s brows knit, his voice rising. “I know a place ten li beyond the city covered in them! Could it be there?”

“Where?”

“I’ll take you.”

As both men strode from the hall, map in hand, Qu returned bewildered. Catching up quickly, he asked: “Where are you going?”

Zhu Song called back: “Bring every constable on hand!”

Qu shouted for men, and they fell in line.

The place was called Wild Ghost Slope. So named because thirteen years ago a fire consumed the Lin family there—thirty‑two souls, none left alive—becoming a haunted place whispered of ever since.

From a distance, a vast sea of golden butterfly orchids greeted them, scent so strong it carried on the air. Zhu Song instantly recognized the fragrance from that night.

Gu met his gaze. He gave a subtle nod. Gu ordered: “Search.”

Qu, still lost, asked: “Why here, of all places?”

Neither answered, merely glanced at him. “Ah?” he muttered in confusion.

“Just wait and see,” Gu said.

“Let us enter too,” Zhu Song decided.

Within moments, a runner called: “My lords, found him!”

Men dragged out a youth, strikingly handsome though gaunt. He displayed no panic, almost as if expecting this day.

Nearby, an officers’ squad pried open a hidden cave, pulling out props—grotesque masks and fanged accoutrements.

“This is the one frightening people in disguise,” they explained.

Qu let out a whistle, even raising a thumb at Zhu Song and Gu. “Remarkable—you actually traced him here.”

Zhu Song withheld reply. If Gu had guessed earlier from that hint of orchid, matters would not have dragged this long.

“Bring him. Back to the city for trial,” Zhu ordered.

The news spread like wildfire. People crowded the streets as constables led their prisoner. Many whispered:

“So this is the Qingxing’s form by day?”

“No wonder at night he was terrifying. But such beauty by daylight!”

“If we eat him, can we really prolong life?”

By the time they returned, the government hall was bursting with villagers eager to witness the trial.

Seated on the bench, Qu struck his gavel again and again, crying for silence. Over ten times before the room calmed. When it didn’t, Zhu Song threatened: “If quiet is not restored, trial will be suspended.”

At last, silence.

Qu banged the gavel once more. “Name yourself. Why play tricks in disguise? Speak truthfully.”

The prisoner’s voice was calm. “This humble man is Lin Feng. Survivor of the Lin family massacre of Shuyun Manor. Thirteen years ago, the fire was no accident. Bandits slew the household first, then torched the compound to erase evidence. I concealed my name thirteen years, awaiting this moment. My lord, avenge my kin—all thirty‑one of them!”

He fell to the ground, bowing hard, blood smearing his forehead. Again and again he cried: “Please, my lord, make justice for the Lin clan! Please, my lord!”

The crowd erupted.

“Wild Ghost Slope’s Lin family?”

“Weren’t they all burned to death?”

“I always suspected it was foul play. Who ever heard of all perishing in one blaze with no survivor?”

“Hmph, if you’re so clever, why not speak sooner? Only now you boast!”

“I wasn’t official! Who would’ve believed me?”

“Was it reported?”

“Everyone dead—who to report?”

“Then why did the authorities never investigate?”

Chaos welled louder than a market street. Qu’s gavel was useless now.

“Adjourn! We will deliberate further,” he declared at Zhu Song’s urging.

But Lin Feng cried out: “My lord!” and from his robe pulled a written petition. “This is my testimony. I beg for justice!”

A runner presented it. Qu read swiftly, then declared: “Though years have passed, if there is indeed wrongful grievance, I shall see justice done. The truth of the Lin family incident remains uncertain. But your crimes of masquerading as a demon and harming innocents are beyond question—do you confess?”

Lin Feng bowed his head. “I confess. I was desperate, seeking only redress. I accept punishment.”

The crowd’s noise swelled again. Qu could scarcely hear his own voice. At last he ordered: “Remand him to prison. This case touches upon many matters—we will retry later.”

Constables led Lin Feng below. But even as he vanished into the cells, voices of speculation rose in waves. Zhu Song feared a riot, and sent men to slowly disperse the mob.

This matter, clearly, would not be ending anytime soon.

Footnotes for Readers

1. Si Zheng (寺正) — mid‑senior rank within the Dali Si (Judicial Court); officials of this rank and above rated private chambers on site.

2. Qingxing (青狌) — a monstrous creature described in Classic of Mountains and Seas; “green‑faced, fanged, blood‑drinking, shaped like a monkey.” People believed eating its flesh could extend life.

3. Shan Hai Jing (山海經) — Classic of Mountains and Seas, a Chinese text of myth, geography, and folklore, written over two millennia ago. Often cited but with uncertain historicity.

4. “Drink bitter tea” (喝一壺) — idiomatic; meaning “to suffer harsh consequences.”