Chapter 25

Seeing the argument grow more intense, Yang Yuanyi rolled his eyes and snapped irritably, “Enough! All of you, shut up! As for who the killer is — the county authorities will decide.”

“I don’t trust the county authorities one bit!” Fan Youliang, still fuming, gritted his teeth and said, “You think I don’t know? Ever since Captain Yang retired, there hasn’t been a single competent person in the office! You can’t even find my wife, and you expect me to trust you? I’d sooner believe a pig could climb a tree!”

“And you — I know you’re Captain Yang’s son. But you couldn’t even measure up to one of his fingers!”

Yang Yuanyi, now directly insulted, could no longer laugh. His face turned sour, like he’d swallowed something bitter.

Yan Fang was stunned. Lady Luo is right here in the inn — don’t they know that?

He parted his lips to speak, but Yang Yuanyi cut in first: “You’re not my father. Don’t act like you know my capabilities better than he does.”

With that, face darkened, he stopped looking at Fan Youliang’s twisted expression and ordered the other constables to keep a close eye on him. Then, he stepped into the room.

Yun Shuang followed closely behind.

After all that yelling, a glance at the actual crime scene would be far more telling. The soldier who’d led her stood stunned as Yun Shuang strode confidently into the victim’s room, not a hint of hesitation.

Does Miss Yun not know there’s a corpse in there? She’s walking in so quickly, like she can’t wait to see it. What if she gets frightened?

Inside, Yun Shuang swiftly scanned the entire space.

This was the inn’s finest suite — spacious and divided into an outer and inner room. They entered the outer room first. It was primarily for lounging, with a dark red round table in the center surrounded by three round stools. A chaise lounge sat on the left, and two Wanli cabinets on the right provided storage for guests’ belongings.

Everything was neatly arranged. On the table were a teapot and a plate of snacks, with a cup beside them — half-full of tea. Clearly, it was Miss He’s — the victim’s — last drink.

From the outer room alone, there was no sign of foul play. The body had to be inside. A partition door separated the outer and inner rooms, adorned with beaded curtains that were now fully raised, revealing the inside clearly.

Inside stood Magistrate Ding and another constable, both gazing solemnly toward the left side of the doorway — a spot conveniently blocked from view when standing outside. It was obvious what lay there.

Yun Shuang quickened her steps and stepped inside. There, beside the partition, stood a bath barrel. Inside it — her head tilted back — was a young woman with fair skin and a delicate figure. Her wide-open eyes were lifeless, her face still vividly beautiful and alluring despite death. In fact, her brutal demise added a striking, almost haunting allure.

She was the victim — He Zhenzhen.

A grizzled man in his fifties stood next to her, hair streaked with gray, carefully examining the body. At a glance, Yun Shuang could tell he was a coroner summoned by the authorities.

Not long after Yun Shuang entered, the coroner straightened up and bowed respectfully. “Reporting to Magistrate Ding: the victim’s face shows signs of cyanosis, her pupils are dilated, and her neck bears obvious ligature marks, along with fingernail injuries from when she struggled. Blood and fragments of her flesh were found under her nails. The victim was strangled.”

“She has not yet entered visible rigor mortis. That places her time of death within half an hour. Now that it’s almost midday (11 a.m.), the earliest she could have been killed would be around 10 a.m.”

According to the inn’s accounts, guests heard porcelain shatter around 10:30 a.m. — which means that sound likely came from the killer.

When Yun Shuang entered the inner room earlier, she’d already noticed a shattered vase lying on the floor beside a low table near the bed, directly across from the beaded curtain — clearly the source of the sound. Her eyes followed the coroner’s words, slowly scanning the body before resting on the brutally marked neck.

Just as he’d said, the ligature marks were clear — and ten deep, bleeding scratches where fingernails had torn through flesh. A few gouges even punctured small holes in the skin. On her pale, flawless neck, each bloodstain bloomed like a cruel flower — a vivid testament to the agony and desperation of her final moments.

From the width of the ligature, it was likely something like a sash.

Indeed, a pink belt lay discarded on the ground — most certainly the murder weapon. Beside it was a damp, oversized beige outer robe. As expected, in the very next breath, the coroner picked up the pink belt.

“The belt’s width matches the neck markings. It also carries traces of blood and skin — this is clearly the weapon.”

“It must’ve been taken casually from the victim’s nearby clothing rack — a garment she’d prepared to wear after bathing.”

“The robe next to it also belongs to the victim. The killer likely used it to shield themselves from splashing water during the victim’s struggle.”

It was a loose-fitting robe — even if the killer were male and couldn’t wear it, simply draping it in front of them would block any spray.

Magistrate Ding nodded. “Thank you, Coroner Sun. For the killer to approach so silently and strangle the victim before she could make a sound, this likely involved someone familiar to her.”

The inn’s soundproofing wasn’t great. If the victim had cried out, not just nearby guests — even those in the lobby — could have heard her. Yet all anyone reported hearing was a single, sharp sound: the shattering porcelain that drew everyone’s attention.

But before Magistrate Ding could finish, a gentle, clear female voice rang out—”The chance of a familiar killer is certainly high. But at the time of death, the victim’s face was turned toward the wall. If the killer approached quietly from behind while she was unaware, and struck before she could react — even a stranger might’ve had the chance.”

Magistrate Ding was momentarily stunned and turned toward Yun Shuang, who had just spoken. Only then did he realize that this woman had arrived after that rascal, Yang Yuanyi. Though she wore a veiled hat, how could he possibly forget her voice?

She was the mysterious woman who had suddenly appeared beside the General! Heaven knows, despite knowing the General for so many years, he had never seen a woman by his side before.

Still, Magistrate Ding wasn’t about to let his mind wander into romantic speculations—after all, the woman already had a son. Although she had said yesterday that they were a pair of orphaned mother and child, the general held such a high position; he could have any woman he wanted. Why choose a woman who had already borne a child, only to become her child’s stepfather?

That said, since the General was willing to bring her along to investigate this case personally, she was clearly no ordinary woman, and Magistrate Ding certainly dared not show any disrespect to her.

However, even though he remained outwardly courteous, deep down he didn’t believe the woman could truly investigate a case. Upon hearing her remarks, his brows furrowed slightly as he tried to hide his growing impatience. He responded: “Miss Yun, the fact that the deceased happened to be facing the wall when the murderer entered was purely coincidental. Even if the murderer knew she was bathing, he wouldn’t have known which way she was facing before entering. Had she been facing the folding door instead, she would have noticed him the moment he walked in. There’s no way such a reckless killer could exist in this world!”