Chapter 6

Wei Cuicheng had just stepped in when the guards beside him immediately shut the doors tightly.

It was so cold inside!

Wei Cuicheng felt his hair stand on end as though he was in an icy cave.

The room was opulent, with carved beams and painted rafters, crystal bead curtains hanging from above. The windows were made of polished, translucent shells inlaid in the lattice frames. You could hear the muffled sound of cold rain knocking against the shells, like countless ghostly hands tapping on the windows.

Inside the room, several wooden chests were arranged, each piled high with heaps of ice, gleaming with a dazzling cold light under the glow of ox horn lamps. It resembled the crystal palace of the Dragon King, where summer nights felt like the depths of winter.

By the window, on a Luohan couch, sat an old man leaning on a cane—none other than Grand Secretary Li Dongyang, one of the five leading figures of the cabinet.

Li Dongyang was the most legendary academician in the cabinet. A prodigy, he was renowned for his calligraphy at the age of three, and at five, he entered the palace to lecture Emperor Daizong on the “Book of Documents.” The Emperor was delighted, holding Li Dongyang and letting him sit on his lap during court sessions.

At eighteen, he passed the imperial examination and became the top-ranked graduate of the secondary cohort, appointed as a junior compiler in the Hanlin Academy—a dream start for all scholars.

Li Dongyang’s career was remarkably smooth; at age fifty-one, he became the Minister of Rites, entered the Wenyuan Pavilion, and was appointed Grand Secretary of the Cabinet and tutor to the Crown Prince.

Such talent and fortune were so extraordinary that not even the most imaginative storyteller would dare to invent them!

Unfortunately, this world has no perfection; everyone has regrets. For Li Dongyang, his struggles lay with his offspring. It was already a great challenge for him to have a son who survived into adulthood. Yet, that son became indulgent in wine and women, and before producing any heirs to continue the family line, he died.

To Li Dongyang, his only son’s incompetence during his lifetime—frequenting brothels—and his pitiful, ignoble death were unbearable. How could he not feel pain? How could he not grieve? How could he not be enraged?

On a stormy night, Li Dongyang, speechless, looked to the heavens: “Oh, Heaven! As generous as you have been to me, you are equally cruel!”

At every imperial court meeting, there were six elephants as part of the ceremonial guard. Wei Cuicheng, having stood guard by the elephants countless times and seen civil and military officials pass by, recognized Li Dongyang. But before, the elder statesman had only streaks of gray in his hair. Seeing him again tonight, his hair was completely white. What could make the esteemed Grand Secretary of the Cabinet turn white-haired overnight?

Wei Cuicheng, filled with curiosity, stepped forward to pay his respects: “Your humble servant, Wei Cuicheng of the Jinyiwei Elephant Training Office, greets Grand Secretary Li.”

“Sit,” Li Dongyang said, pointing to the chair beside him. “Commander Mou is tirelessly devoted to the Emperor’s burdens yet still finds time to concern himself with my family affairs. Truly remarkable.”

Wei Cuicheng was utterly baffled, unsure of what the Grand Secretary meant. You brought a young widow and a young girl to this brothel yet accuse me of meddling in your business?

Wei Cuicheng, emboldened by the support of his godfather Mou Bin, refused to sit down as instructed. Instead, he stood rigidly and said, “Your humble servant’s two neighbors, Miss Tao Zhu and Madam Lu, I wonder how they have offended Grand Secretary Li? There are laws in the land—how can one set up a private court in this place of ill repute?”

The investigation earlier was of a fugitive official courtesan—where did a fifth-rank title lady suddenly appear from? Hearing this, Grand Secretary Li was even more baffled than Wei Cuicheng.

At that moment, a knock came from outside. “My lord, the two suspects have been brought in. They claim to be innocent. One of them even says she’s the youngest daughter of Lu Qingtian, Madam Lu, and has official documents to prove it. She requests an audience with you.”

The two feuding parties were finally reunited in this den of indulgence.

In Wei Cuicheng’s eyes, the trio led by Lu Shanrou bore an uncanny resemblance to the characters in Journey to the West embarking on adventures: Tao Zhu, her head wrapped in a cloth, her swollen face resembling a pig’s head—Pigsy; Liu Xiu, with disheveled hair and a beggar’s appearance, her ten swollen red fingers resembling the rake held by Pigsy; and only Lu Shanrou, still neatly dressed with a calm and benevolent demeanor, remained like the unshaken figure of the Tang Monk.

Lu Shanrou was initially surprised to see Wei Cuicheng here but then delighted: “I’ve caught a big fish! After just two encounters, he’s tracked me down here and is even daring to argue with Grand Secretary Li on my behalf.”

“…This is the truth,” Liu Xiu swore, holding up her swollen fingers. “If there’s even half a lie, may Heaven strike me with thunder and lightning, and may I be condemned to a thousand lifetimes as a courtesan!”

After Liu Xiu finished her oath, Lu Shanrou said, “Grand Secretary Li, I am the youngest daughter of Lu Qingtian. As a mischievous child, I often disguised myself as a boy and acted as a bookboy, accompanying my father to various crime scenes. I learned some skills in solving cases through observation. May I have your permission to investigate the cause of your son’s death?”

Time erodes almost everything. Fourteen years had passed, and Lu Qingtian’s fame had faded somewhat. However, starting last year, three volumes of Lu Case Records began selling like hotcakes in the marketplace, and Lu Qingtian once again became the talk of the town among the people of the capital. His legend grew with each retelling, and Grand Secretary Li was certainly aware of this.

With his current status, Grand Secretary Li had long mastered the art of concealing his emotions. His expression remained unchanged in response to Lu Shanrou’s request.

At this moment, Wei Cuicheng felt both anxious and inexplicably excited: “I’m about to witness a case more bizarre than anything in a storybook!”

Seeing that Grand Secretary Li was slow to respond, Wei Cuicheng chimed in, saying, “Your son died here, and you haven’t reported it to the authorities. I assume you wish to keep this matter quiet. A life for a life—if Liu Xiu is indeed the culprit, justice will be served, and the Jinyiwei will not interfere. But if the real murderer escapes, would you, Grand Secretary Li, be content?”

Of course, the sole heir cannot die without a clear explanation. Otherwise, Grand Secretary Li would have already killed Liu Xiu rather than interrogating her harshly, only to stop after she fainted.

In scholarship and officialdom, Grand Secretary Li is a genius. But in the matter of his son’s death, he is simply a grieving father. Moreover, with Jinyiwei agents observing nearby—agents who serve as the Emperor’s eyes and ears—this is not a situation where the Grand Secretary’s words alone can dictate the outcome.

“Treat this official courtesan’s injuries and apply medicine; she cannot die yet,” Grand Secretary Li ordered, leaning on his cane. “You, follow me.”

He led the way through a crystal bead curtain, revealing a huanghuali canopy bed surrounded by tubs filled with ice, radiating a piercing cold.

Young Master Li lay curled up on the bed, facing inward and covered by a blanket. If not for the crimson blood staining the pair of pillows with entwined patterns of mandarin ducks, it would appear as though he were merely sleeping.

“My son…” Upon seeing his son’s corpse once again, Li Dongyang couldn’t hold himself together. He leaned heavily on his cane and collapsed into a rosewood chair. His son’s name was Li Zhaoxian.

Lu Shanrou spoke up, “Grand Secretary Li, I need to remove the blanket to examine the body.”

Li Dongyang waved his hand, signaling permission. Lu Shanrou moved around the ice tub to the bedside and gently lifted the thin blanket.

A curled-up male corpse appeared before them, exactly as Liu Xiu had described. From the neck down, the body was covered in marks resembling the coils of thin snakes, evidence of binding. Only the feet remained clean. In addition to the binding marks, there were patches of purple livor mortis. The eerie appearance of the corpse was so unsettling that even Wei Cuicheng, who had witnessed the horrors of the battlefield, instinctively closed his eyes, unable to look directly.

Lu Shanrou handed paper and pen to Wei Cuicheng. “Please, Commander Wei, record what I just said as part of the postmortem report.”

Wei Cuicheng eagerly took the paper and pen: “This, I can do! I’ve read too many storybooks about this!”

With steady hands, Lu Shanrou pressed on various parts of the corpse’s livor mortis. “The livor mortis has already merged into patches, and pressing on it does not cause the purple discoloration to fade. This indicates that the body has been dead for over a day.”

After examining the livor mortis, Lu Shanrou tested the corpse’s joints by attempting to move them. “Rigor mortis is still at its peak. I have to use force to move the joints slightly. Both the rigor mortis and livor mortis suggest the time of death was approximately last night during the fourth watch, which aligns with Liu Xiu’s testimony.”

The sole heir’s death was undignified. Li Dongyang leaned heavily on his cane, his head lowered as he stared at the ground. “When… when will his body soften? In this rigid state, we haven’t even been able to lay him out properly or dress him in burial clothes.”

Lu Shanrou replied, “At the earliest, two days. By then, the body should be pliable enough to move. For complete softening, it will take three to seven days.”

Lu Shanrou placed an ox horn lamp by the pillow, illuminating the half-severed neck of Young Master Li. She said, “Ask the brothel keepers outside to bring some sheep intestines and fish bladders.”

Hearing this, Wei Cuicheng froze mid-stroke with his brush as if the pen had suddenly lost its innocence—sheep intestines and fish bladders were contraceptive materials, and such items were certainly available in a place like this.

Before long, a box of soaked fish bladders was brought in. Lu Shanrou slipped one over her hand and reached into the blood-soaked severed neck. “The trachea and esophagus are completely severed, and the cut is uneven. The killer must have struck more than once. Was the weapon not sharp enough? Was the killer weak? Nervous? Or did the killer harbor resentment toward the victim, deliberately hacking multiple times to vent their anger? There’s something stuck in the hyoid bone—bring me a pair of tweezers.”

The group went to search for tweezers. Wealthy households often used tweezers to meticulously remove feathers from bird’s nest delicacies. Soon, a pair was found in the kitchen. Lu Shanrou took the tweezers and extracted a broken blade fragment from the hyoid bone.

Lu Shanrou said, “When a living person’s neck is hacked, even if they die instantly, their body will involuntarily twitch and struggle, and blood will spray everywhere, leaving splattered droplets. But now, the bloodstains on the sheets and blanket are mostly in large patches. Moreover, based on my experience, if a living person were hacked like this, the blood would soak through at least half the mattress. But look here—”

Lu Shanrou flipped over the mattress. “The back is only soaked in a watermelon-sized patch. The amount of blood doesn’t match that of a living person. So, I suspect the real culprit is someone else. At the time, the killer likely didn’t know your son was already dead and came in to hack at the body. Liu Xiu left here on the third watch of the fifth night. It’s worth investigating who came or passed by the bedroom afterward.”

Li Dongyang gave a signal, and the bailiffs immediately went out to interrogate the maids and servants who had been on duty outside.

Unnoticed, the rain had stopped. The bailiffs returned with a confession. “The brothel keeper admitted that after Liu Xiu left, they assumed Young Master Li would sleep until noon and didn’t need constant attendance. So, all the attendants on duty outside went back to rest. The door was left unguarded, and no one knows who came by.”

Hearing this, Li Dongyang struck his cane heavily on the ground, the sound echoing loudly. “Bring in everyone—the brothel keepers, the madams, and all those who were here last night listening to music or staying overnight—for questioning!”