LBLCPCB C8

Chapter 8

Just after lunch, Gu Huaiyu returned—his face stormy, his expression grim. From the moment he entered, his eyes locked onto Zhu Song as though here to collect a debt.

Zhu Song was baffled under such a stare. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

Gu seated himself without speaking. Qu Zhoubai’s gaze flickered between them, then he rose to fetch food. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I’ll serve you rice.”

Gu only grunted. Qu headed off.

Zhu Song pressed again: “What happened?”

Only then did Gu’s eyes flicker as he spoke: “Good thing Lin Feng was to be executed. The Lin family were burned to death. There was no wrongful massacre.”

“What?” Zhu Song was so stunned he leapt to his feet. “No wrongful case?”

Gu blinked at him, puzzled by his agitation. “Why are you so excited?”

With wide eyes, Zhu stammered, “I… I personally begged the Emperor for mercy! How can there be no injustice?”

Gu’s tone sharpened, brows drawing down. “And without evidence, what did you beg him with?”

Just then, Qu Zhoubai returned with dishes, answering cheerfully: “With that thing hanging on his neck.”

Gu’s face darkened, his eyes piercing toward Zhu Song. “Is that true?”

Zhu said nothing. Gu slammed the table and sprang up, voice cutting: “Zhu Song!”

Still silent. Qu jumped in hurriedly to ease the tension. “Come now, why anger yourself so suddenly? Speak calmly, eh? Don’t be angry.”

Zhu returned him a sour look. “You’d best go buy those desert-sun hats now.”

“What?” Qu blinked. His gaze darted between his two friends. Realization struck; his heart sank. “So… the Lin family weren’t killed by accident?”

Zhu slumped back into his seat. “I’ll take responsibility. I’ll go to the palace, tell His Majesty the truth directly.”

Gu scoffed. “First you swear your life as guarantee, then you crawl back with an apology? Do you think His Majesty is your father?”

Zhu turned and strode for the door. “I must confront Lin Feng. He tripped me into this. I won’t let him off lightly.”

Gu rushed forward, catching his arm. Zhu turned to him. Qu stamped his foot nearby, anxious. “Nor will I! Let him be punished!”

Yet Gu did not let go. His face was not simply furious—he wore a heavy seriousness. Zhu, watching him, guessed his thoughts. “They were murdered, weren’t they?”

Qu was baffled. “Brother Song, are you delirious? You think Huaiyu would lie about this?”

But Gu’s eyes darted guiltily aside—his tell whenever spoken too close to the truth. Zhu understood, softened by his concern. He patted Gu’s shoulder.

“Huaiyu, you know me. We are officials of the people. To risk everything for thirty‑one lives is our duty. Besides, the Emperor gave me half a month. I will uncover the truth.”

His sincerity stole Gu’s will to argue. Gu deflated, murmuring: “Fine. Do as you will.” Tugging his sleeve, he drew Zhu from the room.

Qu Zhoubai was left behind with dishes in hand, utterly perplexed. “What on earth just happened? …Hey, are we eating or not?”

Left holding the bowl awkwardly, he at last followed them out.

They returned to Shuyun Manor. The yamen were still busy digging bones. At a steaming pit, Gu picked up a cervical vertebra and handed it to Zhu Song. In the middle section was a deep crimson stain. Tilted to the sunlight, it gleamed scarlet—injury sustained before death.

And across the entire skeleton, only this single wound. Which meant: a throat cut in one stroke. Only a trained master could kill so cleanly.

Handing the bone back, Zhu asked, “How many skeletons uncovered so far?”

“Not sure,” Gu replied. “I haven’t reassembled them. But by sight, perhaps twelve or so.”

“Every fatal wound must be identified,” Zhu declared. “We have half a month. We must hurry.”

“Mm.”

Gu, who always shed moods quickly, merely nodded and bent back to working.

“Eat first,” Qu called.

“Eat,” Zhu echoed.

Taking the bowl from Qu, Gu crouched and began eating right there. Zhu watched, laughter bubbling. The scene looked absurd.

Gu noticed his gaze. “What’s funny?”

Zhu teased, “Our Great Beauty Gu enduring hardships like this.”

Gu shot him a glare, refusing to rise to bait. Qu was chuckling too until Zhu snapped: “You too. Get back to work.”

Qu shrugged, muttering: “Funny how someone said not to interfere—yet now he orders us around.”

“Move or I’ll see you sent to the desert,” Zhu threatened.

“I’ll go willingly,” Qu grinned.

Exasperated, Zhu dragged him away.

For two whole days, the three, with many officers, labored. At last, all thirty‑one sets of Lin family bones lay examined. Without exception—every throat was cut by a single blade.

Zhu Song mapped the positions: all bodies found within the residential zones. Not one escape. The killers had struck swiftly, efficiently. No fewer than ten skilled swordsmen must have acted in unison.

Such an operation required a formidable master.

Meanwhile, agents dispatched for inquiry returned.

Reports: The Lin family dealt in mermaid pearlsⁱ, rare treasures from the sea. Thirteen years ago, the patriarch Lin Sicheng had acquired a rare red coral. He announced it as a family heirloom—but still displayed it publicly fifteen times in three months. Crowds flocked. The price soared to 100,000 taels of gold.

When the manor later burned, rumors whispered this coral had brought calamity. But no proof was ever found.

Also, they confirmed Lin Feng had indeed begged in the capital three years, then been taken in by a mysterious benefactor. After that, traces vanished—as if erased.

Zhu lowered his eyes in thought. Then: “Did anyone see what that carriage looked like, that took Lin Feng?”

“Only an old beggar,” replied his officer. “But his memory is muddled and unreliable.”

“Try anyway,” Zhu ordered.

Dismissed, the runner left. Zhu exchanged a look with Gu. Gu poured him tea. “A red coral… so it was murder-for-treasure?”

Zhu stared at the floating tea leaf in his cup. It drifted up, down, dancing—like Lin Feng himself.

Then it split apart: two leaves, clinging until now unseen.

Looking up, he murmured, “What kind of man, I wonder, was it who took Lin Feng?”

Gu analyzed: “One with power enough to erase his trace in the capital. A noble. Or a tycoon.”

“Then why,” Zhu pressed, “did Lin Feng not seek his aid, but stir such chaos instead?”

Gu frowned. “What do you mean?”

Zhu shook his head. He himself wasn’t sure. But instinct told him—the man, whoever he was, had lived with Lin Feng for years. Surely there was attachment. So why would Lin Feng neither ask aid, nor would that man appear to defend him? And worst of all, Lin Feng seemed unwilling even to mention him.

Both men rose. “Come—we’ll interrogate Lin Feng anew.”

Yet before they could leave, an officer arrived. “My lords, two men at the gate. One claims to be Lin Feng’s uncle, the other his elder cousin. They seek audience.”

“Bring them,” Zhu ordered.

The men entered: refined scholars, both handsome, both smelling faintly of medicine. They bowed deeply. “Humble subjects, Xu Lizhu and Xu Songlan, greet the honored lords.”

Zhu replied, “No need for ceremony.”

Gu asked, “You are of the famed Xu family, masters of medicine?”

Xu Lizhu replied, “Indeed so.”

The Xu family’s clinics, known as Xinglin Halls², were famed throughout the realm.

Zhu narrowed his eyes. “And what was Lin Feng’s mother to you?”

Xu Lizhu bowed low. “She was my own sister, your grace. Thirteen years ago, our hall was only in Qingzhou. By the time I learned of her death, half a month had passed. Our mother fell ill with grief. I nursed her, hoping to travel once she healed to retrieve my sister’s remains. But shock stole her mind; she forgot the massacre. I dared not remind her. So year after year, I visited the manor quietly at Qingming³—afraid even of her suspicion.

And so thirteen years slipped by.

Now the Qingxing affair has shaken the capital. Our mother heard rumors. When she was told the monster was in truth her grandson, memory returned—and she died of the shock, pressing me with her last breath to reclaim him.

I beg to see him. I beg the honored lords.”

His voice broke as both men sank to their knees, kowtowing.

Xu Lizhu pled: “It is mine own fault. Had I come to the capital then, Feng’er might never have suffered. Let me take his punishment.”

Zhu Song did not press him, only replied formally: “Lin Feng is a felon condemned. If you see him, it will be with yamen present.”

“Thank you, my lord!”

Bowing gratefully, they were escorted to the cell.

When they departed, Gu frowned. “Why do the Xu family appear so suddenly?”

Zhu slid dossier scrolls toward him. “See for yourself.”

Within: Records noted that the Lady of Shuyun Manor, Xu Wanyin, was once famed as the number one beauty in all under heaven. Betrothed by childhood promise to the eldest of the Qingzhou Wang clan, Wang Shichang. Yet at eighteen she saw Lin Sicheng by chance, fell in instant love, and against family’s will married him and lived in the capital.

Ten years wed, she never returned to her clan. Yet even so, suitors plagued her. Wang Shichang himself still pursued. A month before the fire, he sent her costly jewelry—she returned it untouched.

Gu Huaiyu glanced up sharply. Both Lady Xu and her children had been known for unmatched beauty.

“So,” Gu asked, “you think… a crime of passion?”

Zhu Song only said wryly: “Aren’t you always the one scolding me not to hypothesize without evidence?”

“True,” Gu conceded. “Yet in the absence of clues, reasoned conjecture may be the road to truth.”

Zhu sighed. “Honestly, I only just found this hint myself.”

Gu’s eyes gleamed. “Then… find Wang Shichang.”

Zhu nodded. “Naturally.”

Footnote

1. Mermaid pearls (鲛珠) — in Chinese legend, mermaids (jiao ren) shed tears that became pearls, highly prized and believed magical. Here, likely refers to rare, luminous pearls from the sea.

2. Xinglin / 杏林 — “apricot grove,” shorthand for medicine. The Xu clan’s clinics are named Xinglin Halls, echoing classical tales of healers.

3. Qingming (清明節) — Tomb-Sweeping Festival, Chinese national holiday for honoring ancestors by visiting graves.