Chapter 9

Jin Rong wailed in agony under the beating while Feiyan and Yuyan, the sisters in the distance, listened with delight. Jin Rong loved tormenting people in bed, and the louder the screams, the more satisfied he was.

Now, hearing Jin Rong’s cries, the louder they were, the more pleased the sisters felt. “You finally got what you deserve!”

Lu Shanrou gave a signal, and Wei Cuicheng walked behind the screen. “Madam Lu, have you discovered anything new?”

Lu Shanrou said, “From the uneven cut on Young Master Li’s neck and the broken blade stuck in the bone gap, the killer’s method and weapon seem crude. This doesn’t appear to be the work of a trained assassin.”

“Judging by Jin Rong’s attack earlier, his legs were weak, his strength was lacking, and his mind wasn’t sharp. These traits align with the killer’s characteristics. Coupled with his habit of drunkenly assaulting people, it’s highly likely he committed the murder in a drunken rage.”

“If only we could find the murder weapon sooner. With evidence, it would be easier to convict him. Otherwise, relying solely on testimony—even if Jin Rong confesses on the spot—if Marquis Shouning steps in to back him up, Jin Rong could retract his confession, claiming he was coerced.”

Lu Shanrou had seen many cases of high-ranking disciples committing crimes. Without irrefutable evidence, their families would never give up and would seize every opportunity to overturn the case.

To strike a snake, you must kill it completely, leaving no chance for it to bite back.

At this moment, the ten strokes outside had been completed. Jin Rong’s defenses and dignity were shattered, and he surrendered entirely, confessing everything about his past fights with Li Zhaoxian without holding anything back. While recounting the third fight, the second and final guest to leave the Fragrant Grass Pavilion was brought in.

This person’s name was Wang Zhankui, from Shanxi. He came from a merchant family that owned a bank. Wang Zhankui, in his early twenties, was a scholar who had the financial means to purchase the title of tribute student and became a student at the Imperial College. He had traveled a great distance from Shanxi to the capital to study.

The Imperial College was under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Rites, and Grand Secretary Li also held the position of Minister of Rites. Therefore, summoning a student from the highest academic institution in the Ming Dynasty was an effortless task.

According to Pei Yu’s account, last night Wang Zhankui neither listened to music nor drank alcohol, nor did he watch her dance. Instead, he focused on writing poetry, requesting that she assist by grinding ink, trimming wicks, serving tea, and fanning him. He even taught her how to appreciate poetry, occasionally saying, “Let me test you,” “You’re wrong,” and “I’ll teach you…”

Wang Zhankui mentioned that he needed to return to the Imperial College for early classes the next day, so he refrained from drinking. However, he asked Pei Yu to drink instead, claiming he enjoyed the sight of a woman slightly drunk with flushed cheeks.

While sipping tea, Wang Zhankui rambled about poetry, literature, and life goals, speaking enthusiastically. Pei Yu, though stifling yawns, endured it and offered a flood of compliments, saying things like “Yes, yes,” “Right, right,” and “Young master, your talent will surely lead you to great success.”

After lying on the bed, Wang Zhankui was done with half a cup of tea’s time and fell asleep, snoring loudly.

“…Turns out he’s just for show,” was Pei Yu’s critique.

However, the man showed some tenderness. Early the next morning, Wang Zhankui got up and hurried off to the Imperial College for his morning classes. He didn’t ask Pei Yu to get up to serve him, instead telling her to sleep as long as she wanted.

Lu Shanrou recorded everything carefully and said, “So when Wang Zhankui left your room, you didn’t see him off and didn’t witness him leave with your own eyes.”

Pei Yu replied, “We in this line of work are accustomed to sleeping late and waking late, having lunch as our first meal of the day. Not having to get up early to send off guests is a relief. Wang Zhankui definitely isn’t the murderer. He’s a regular at our Fragrant Grass Pavilion and has a good reputation among the sisters. He’s generous and doesn’t act out on the bed.”

Pei Yu smiled bitterly, “You may laugh at me, but for people like us, meeting someone like Wang Zhankui is already a great blessing.”

Lu Shanrou felt a deep sorrow upon hearing this but knew the investigation had to go on. She asked, “Since he’s a regular, who else has served him?”

“Ming Luan,” Peiyu said. “Last year, he even ‘combed Ming Luan’s hair,’ and it cost him this much—”

“Combing the hair” refers to purchasing a courtesan’s first night. From then on, the courtesan officially begins her career in both entertainment and physical transactions, selling both her skills and her body.

Pei Yu, envious, raised a hand and gestured, “Five hundred taels of silver! And he even held a three-day banquet with an elegant spread, just like a real wedding. He also gifted Ming Luan a set of gold and gem-encrusted hair ornaments and a wedding dress embroidered with gold thread from Yunxiang Tower. It was incredibly valuable. Families running banks certainly are wealthy!”

Lu Shanrou asked Liu Xiu about Wang Zhankui. Liu Xiu lowered her head and said, “Pei Yu’s account is entirely accurate. But wealth ultimately ends up in the hands of the madams. We’re just tools for making money. I was merely a plaything for Wang Zhankui to pass the time and keep him warm at night, playing along to amuse him. For a few months, he acted like a new groom.”

“Early this spring, he said a relative had passed away back in his hometown. He took leave from the Imperial College to return to Shanxi for the funeral. We hadn’t seen him until last night when he came to Pei Yu’s room. That’s when I learned he was back. Pei Yu is prettier than I am, and in this line of work, favoring the new over the old is common. So I didn’t pay attention to this matter and thought it insignificant, which is why I didn’t tell you.”

Speak of the devil, and there he was. Wang Zhankui appeared, dressed in the standard attire of Imperial College students: a jade-colored robe with a round collar and a black square cap, looking elegant and composed.

Wang Zhankui bowed and said, “Student Wang Zhankui is here. May I know the reason for my presence, sir?”

As usual, Wei Cuicheng handled the interrogation of male suspects while Lu Shanrou observed from behind the screen.

Having gained experience from interrogating Young Master Jin earlier, Wei Cuicheng smoothly proceeded to question him: “Name? Age? Where are you from?”

Wang Zhankui complied obediently and once again introduced himself: “Student Wang Zhankui, 21 years old, from Shanxi. My family is from Shanxi. I am a scholar and a tribute student. I am currently studying at the Imperial College and reside there as well.”

Wei Cuicheng said, “Explain in detail what you did from the time you arrived at Fragrant Grass Pavilion the night before to the time you left.”

“Yes, sir.” Wang Zhankui cleared his throat and recounted the events in detail, which closely aligned with Pei Yu’s earlier account.

“…I got up early to attend morning classes at the Imperial College, hired a carriage from the stables outside, attended classes throughout the day, studied during the evening lessons, then washed up and went to bed. This morning, the yamen officials woke me and brought me here. Sir, do you think my statement is sufficient? If you have any further questions, please feel free to ask. I will answer truthfully.”

Wang Zhankui was a scholar, and according to Ming Dynasty law, scholars were exempt from kneeling before officials. Until his academic status was revoked, no punishment could be inflicted upon him. Even if he were uncooperative, Wei Cuicheng could not use force against him. However, despite Wang Zhankui divulging everything, it led nowhere—no new leads were discovered.

Wei Cuicheng waved his hand dismissively, saying, “You may go and rest. Arrangements have been made with the Imperial College; you don’t need to attend class today.”

“Understood,” Wang Zhankui responded and took his leave.

Behind the screen, Lu Shanrou unfolded a sheet of paper. Wei Cuicheng received a hint and called out, “Wait a moment.”

Wang Zhankui paused and said, “What does the honorable officer wish to say?”

Wei Cuicheng asked, “Why didn’t you inquire about what was happening or why you were brought here? You’re a bit too obedient, aren’t you?”

Wang Zhankui said, “As Confucius once said, ‘Do not look at what is improper, do not listen to what is improper, do not speak of what is improper, and do not act on what is improper.’ As a student from a merchant family with no connections in government, a humble tribute student like me, with money but no power, living in a city filled with influential figures, must act cautiously. I dare not ask unnecessary questions, fearing I might invite trouble upon myself.” Wang Zhankui was the family’s hope to elevate their social standing.

Wei Cuicheng asked, “Do you know Li Zhaoxian, the son of Grand Secretary Li?”

Wang Zhankui nodded respectfully and replied, “I know Young Master Li because he is also a student at the Imperial College, the son of Grand Secretary Li Dongyang. No one in the college does not know him. However, I am an insignificant individual, and Young Master Li surely does not know me. I have never received invitations to his banquets or literary gatherings. Other than both studying at the Imperial College, I have had no interactions with him.”

Li Zhaoxian was born into a prestigious family and had genuine talent. He passed the provincial exams in his early twenties, becoming a scholar—truly a gifted individual. Thanks to the patronage of his father, Grand Secretary Li, he entered the Imperial College. If he were still alive, becoming a “Jinshi” (a top-ranking scholar) would have been only a matter of time. The starting point for the children of high-ranking officials in the capital was far beyond what Shanxi’s wealthy families could ever hope to match.

Wei Cuicheng asked, “To your knowledge, who held a grudge against Young Master Li?”

Wang Zhankui thought for a moment and replied, “Grand Secretary Li was at odds with the imperial relatives. It’s said that Empress Zhang brought her mother, Madam Jin of Changguo, into the palace to reside there. Once she moved in, she wouldn’t leave, and reportedly, her treatment was equivalent to that of an Empress Dowager—though this is just hearsay; I don’t know if it’s true and dare not spread rumors. Later, Grand Secretary Li submitted a memorial stating that it was against protocol and requested that Madam Jin move out. The Jin family resented Grand Secretary Li for meddling, and the two families became estranged. Members of the Jin family wouldn’t even greet Young Master Li with a pleasant face when they saw him.”

The current emperor is the Hongzhi Emperor. His palace has no concubines, only Empress Zhang. He loves this one woman exclusively and cherishes her deeply. After the death of Empress Zhang’s father, Duke Changguo, the emperor brought Madam Jin into the palace to care for her. This act violated ceremonial protocols, but the Hongzhi Emperor chose to overlook it, not wanting to cause Empress Zhang any grief.

Grand Secretary Li also served as the Minister of Rites, so he naturally submitted memorials to advise the emperor. The court argued back and forth over the matter without reaching a conclusion. The disputes grew more intense, and the conflict between the Jin and Li families became irreconcilable.

The suspicion once again fell on Jin Rong.

Elsewhere, Jin Rong had already recounted the four fights he had with Li Zhaoxian in detail. “… That’s exactly how it happened. If there’s a single lie in my words, may lightning strike me dead!”

Wei Cuicheng lightly tapped the thick stack of confessions in his hands. “You fought with him four times… Were you trying to kill him?”

“Yes!” Jin Rong couldn’t lie and blurted out, “In my dreams, I’ve killed him countless times—but it’s just something I imagined.”

Jin Rong wanted to add that he wouldn’t dare kill him in real life, but Wei Cuicheng didn’t ask, so he kept silent, fearing another beating.

He had truly been beaten into submission!

Wei Cuicheng stared Jin Rong down. “You killed Li Zhaoxian.”

Jin Rong frantically shook his head, almost to the point of breaking it. “I didn’t! There’s no proof—why accuse me of murder? Even if the case goes to three rounds of interrogation, I’ll have reason to plead my innocence!”

Given Jin Rong’s fragile frame, hollowed out by indulgence in drink and excess, another ten blows might have killed him. This time, Jin Rong escaped a beating and was taken away.

The case reached a deadlock. After a hearty meal, Tao Zhu was getting anxious and couldn’t stick to his earlier oath of “not playing along anymore.” She hurried over to Lu Shanrou’s side, asking, “What do we do now? Without the murder weapon, it’s hard to convict Jin Rong. Should we give him another beating to force him to reveal where the weapon is?”

“If we keep beating him, he’ll die,” Lu Shanrou said as she reviewed the testimonies of the other seven guests. There were no new leads. She added, “Let Jin Rong catch his breath for now. Oh? You’ve changed into a new skirt.”

When Tao Zhu was locked in the woodshed, her skirt had been torn by Lu Shanrou to bandage her head wound. Wrapped up like an Indian, her pale yellow horse-face skirt was missing a panel, and whenever she walked, her pants underneath would show.

Now, Tao Zhu’s head was re-bandaged with clean white gauze, and she had changed into a bright red horse-face skirt that no longer revealed her pants. The skirt’s front and back panels were embroidered with a golden phoenix wings spread, as if ready to fly—clearly an expensive piece.

Tao Zhu twirled around gracefully. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Liu Xiu gave it to me. She saw my skirt was torn, opened her wardrobe, and told me to pick whatever I liked. I thought this skirt was the prettiest, so I put it on. She also helped apply medicine to my head and wrapped it with clean, breathable gauze—it’s not stuffy at all.”

In the end, Tao Zhu suddenly remembered her earlier vow “not to play along with them anymore.” Feeling awkward but stubbornly refusing to admit it, she said defiantly, “Liu Xiu is so nice, much better than you all. She saw my torn clothes and gave me new ones. When I got angry, none of you even tried to comfort me.”