Wei Caiwei thought to herself: Making someone appear half-dead is too difficult—I'm actually more skilled at directly killing them.
But when Lu Ying mentioned Ding Rukui, "...Vice Minister Yan wants him dead. Every year, my father finds ways to postpone the execution, falsely claiming Ding Rukui is ill. Yet Vice Minister Yan remains distrustful and insists on personally inspecting the death row cell."
Upon hearing this concerned Ding Rukui's life, Wei Caiwei immediately became alert. Her mind raced, and her gaze fell upon a pot of anthurium flowers in the room for decoration.
Without hesitation, Wei Caiwei used a handkerchief as a barrier to pluck five long, slender stamens from the anthurium's blossoms, resembling thin phalluses. She declared, "Take me to see Ding Rukui."
Ding Rukui's death row cell was clean and tidy, even equipped with a wall of books—clearly, Lu Bing's preferential treatment couldn't be revealed to Yan Shifan.
Lu Ying promptly moved Ding Rukui out, confining him in the cell that had held Zhou Xiaoqi, who had already lost an eye. Zhou Xiaoqi was then relocated to a secret location.
Zhou Xiaoqi's left eye was bandaged, while his right eye glared venomously at Wang Daxia and Wei Caiwei. To prevent him from shouting, a cloth strip gagged his mouth, allowing only muffled groans.
Wang Daxia sneered coldly, "You chased me from Wanping to Daxing, nearly turned me into a pincushion with arrows at the Shuntian Prefecture Yamen, and almost blinded Doctor Wei. What goes around comes around—you've finally met your fate!"
After Zhou Xiaoqi was carried away, Ding Rukui entered the cell. The air was foul, and the filth obscured the wall's original color, as if generations of death row inmates had smeared it with excrement.
The walls were stained with various blood marks—some dark and aged, others fresh and crimson, evidently splattered by the one-eyed death row prisoner earlier.
The cell was utterly suffocating!
Additionally, inside the cell was the woman who had claimed last night to be the adopted daughter of Wei Nanshan and his wife. She unfolded a handkerchief revealing five slender stamens. "Chew these thoroughly and swallow them. Your throat will tighten and sting, you'll struggle for breath, and saliva will drool from your mouth, making you look critically ill."
"But don't worry. Drink plenty of water afterward, and I'll prescribe a heat-clearing, detoxifying remedy. You'll recover quickly."
Lu Ying pointed to a set of filthy, stinking prison clothes on a torn mat. "Change into these quickly, lie down, and tousle your hair to feign illness."
Ding Rukui was bewildered.
Wei Caiwei said, "If you ever want to see last night's moonlight again or see Ding Wu, cooperate and do as told."
This statement proved effective.
Ding Rukui chewed all five anthurium stamens in one go, swallowing them as he changed clothes.
The stamens took effect immediately upon reaching his throat. Ding Rukui felt as if countless knives were slicing his windpipe and invisible hands were choking his neck. He struggled to breathe but wasn't in mortal danger.
Forced to gasp heavily through his mouth and nose, his chest heaved violently, and clear drool trickled from his lips.
In this half-dead state, Lu Ying ordered Wang Daxia to shackle him.
Wang Daxia brought over a ten-catty set of leg irons and fastened them around Ding Rukui's ankles.
Wei Caiwei mixed pigments and painted his exposed skin with vivid bruises and marks, simulating severe beatings and abuse.
After Yan Shifan shared two cups of light tea with Lu Bing, Lu Ying escorted him to the underground death row cells.
At the entrance, Lu Ying handed Yan Shifan a cloth pad stuffed with thin cotton. "The stench inside is unbearable, and most death row inmates are diseased. To avoid offending your senses, Uncle Yan, please cover your nose and mouth with this."Lu Ying first demonstrated, tying it on herself, and asked, "Does Uncle Yan need this junior's assistance?"
Yan Shifan's arms were short and plump, making movement difficult.
Of course, his life was paramount. Yan Shifan nodded, still in the mood to joke with Lu Ying, "Fortunately, it's two pieces of white cloth. If it were black, we'd look like masked bandits."
When elders crack jokes, even if they're not funny, juniors must humor them. Lu Ying laughed appropriately, "Uncle Yan is truly witty."
Lu Ying tied the cloth pieces onto Yan Shifan.
The underground entrance was a narrow, sloping ramp. The bluestone slabs on the slope bore marks from hurried sweeping, clearly done in haste. Guards holding ram horn lanterns led the way ahead.
The underground death row prison was like a maze, with individual cells. To prevent fires, only the patrolling guards carried lanterns; no lights were allowed inside the cells. Thus, at night, death row inmates could do nothing but sleep.
Those who weren't asleep lay in bed with their eyes closed, too listless to open them even when they sensed light approaching.
There was no vitality, no energy—just corpses waiting to die.
Yan Shifan was indifferent to this scene. Victory made kings, defeat made outlaws. He and his father Yan Song had stood firm in court for over thirty years, sending one opponent after another here, because they had always won.
They couldn't afford to lose. The higher the position, the harder the fall, and the more unbearable the loss. A single step back meant a thousand-foot cliff. So when Yan Shifan learned that calls to overturn Ding Rukui's case were growing louder, he had to eliminate the threat completely to avoid backlash.
"We're here."
The guard placed the ram horn lantern on the table in front of the cell.
On the table stood a five-branched candlestick holding five candles. Under the table was a censer burning mosquito repellent incense.
"Please sit, Uncle Yan," Lu Ying said, pointing to the only chair.
With Yan Shifan's dumpling-like physique, the journey had been arduous. Still wearing the mask, he was drenched in oily sweat from the heat. His pale complexion made him resemble a melting snow-capped mountain.
Yan Shifan sat down, clutching his chest, struggling to catch his breath.
Wang Daxia, who had just set up the table and chair, unfolded a folding fan and vigorously fanned Yan Shifan.
The meager breeze was like trying to put out a fire with a cup of water. Yan Shifan just wanted to finish with Ding Rukui and leave quickly.
"Ding Rukui, do you remember me?" Yan Shifan asked.
The person lying on the tattered mat in the cell remained motionless, facing away from him. Lu Ying approached and banged the iron bars loudly with a rod. "Ding Rukui, get up! Vice Minister Yan is speaking to you!"
Ding Rukui shuddered violently, first jerking upright, then slowly turning around. As he turned, the iron chains on his ankles clanked noisily.
Ding Rukui rubbed his eyes. "You are... Young Master Yan."
His voice was hoarse, as if scraped by the coarsest sandpaper.
Lu Ying said, "Watch your words, or you'll lose your tongue. This is Vice Minister Yan."
The death row cell was too dark. Yan Shifan could hear the voice but couldn't see the face clearly. "Come closer," he said.
Lu Ying continued striking the iron bars. "Hurry up! Don't keep Vice Minister Yan waiting."
Ding Rukui got off the bed, clutching his chest, dragging the ten-pound shackles, gasping for breath with every step as he approached the iron door, then leaned against the bars.Now Yan Shifan could see clearly—this man was indeed the former Minister of War Ding Rukui. All death row prisoners looked the same: greasy, matted hair as filthy as a floor mop, protruding cheekbones, and bruises covering their bodies.
Ding Rukui was even more pitiful. His mouth seemed unable to close as he gasped for breath. Even from across the table, Yan Shifan could hear the wheezing in his chest, like a bellow being pumped.
A string of clear drool had even splattered onto the iron bars!
It seemed Lu Bing was right—Ding Rukui was ill, and gravely so. His breath was faint, his speech slurred and dreamlike. "Vice Minister Yan... my son... my wife is already dead... please don't harm my son."
Lu Ying slammed the iron bars. "Daring to threaten Vice Minister Yan? You must have a death wish."
Suddenly, Ding Rukui thrust his right hand through the gaps in the bars, stretching desperately as if grasping for a lifeline. His grimy nails actually brushed against the tip of Yan Shifan's boot!
Disgusted, Yan Shifan quickly pulled his foot back and asked Lu Ying, "What illness does he have?"
Lu Ying replied, "I don't know. These death row prisoners are all waiting to die. We barely manage to feed them twice a day. If they fall ill, they endure it. If they survive, they keep eating; if not, we wrap them in ragged mats and carry them out, reporting their death from illness to close the case. There's no chance of calling a doctor or providing medicine. Look at these prisoners—almost every one of them is sick. This isn't a hospice; we have no money for medicine."
"But..." Lu Ying lifted the ram horn lantern for a closer look. "Judging by his labored breathing, it's probably consumption. Most death row prisoners die from this disease."
At the mention of consumption, Yan Shifan grew even more restless. He stood up immediately and fled the underground cell as if escaping.
Once outside, Lu Ying first helped Yan Shifan remove his face covering, then took off her own. Several braziers lined the path, burning atractylodes and soap pods. As Lu Ying and Yan Shifan walked between them, guards poured white vinegar into the flaming braziers. With a sizzle, the vinegar merged with the scents of atractylodes and soap pods, transforming into plumes of white vapor.
This method, recorded by Song Ci in the Song Dynasty's Washing Away of Wrongs, was originally meant to dispel the gloom after autopsies and cleanse clothing and bodies. Later, people discovered it was remarkably effective in warding off disease and plague.
Lu Ying and Yan Shifan seemed to tread through clouds in the white mist. When they emerged, even their hair carried the sour, medicinal scent.
Yan Shifan returned to his father-in-law's residence. The place was refreshingly cool, almost divine—a world apart from the prison cell.
He ate some pastries to calm his nerves.
Seizing the opportunity, Lu Bing brought over Zhou Xiaoqi's confession. "There's a matter—a trivial one, not worth much attention. Since you're here today, Donglou, I might as mention it..."
Lu Bing showed Yan Shifan the sections marked with a vermilion brush, feigning disbelief. "This Zhou Xiaoqi is cunning. He deliberately dragged you into this, thinking he'd found a protector and that I wouldn't dare touch him. Of course, I wasn't fooled. Given your status, how could you possibly summon a mere sergeant for questioning? If you were interested in the case of Thousand Household Chen and his son's murder, you could simply ask me or Ying'er directly. Why would you take such a roundabout approach?"Yan Shifan chewed on the pastry, his triple chin trembling rhythmically, showing no surprise at Lu Bing's words. After swallowing and taking half a cup of tea, he dabbed his lips with a handkerchief before speaking:
"Donghu understands me best. Thousand Household Chen and his son are merely two ants—I’ve no time to bother with the deaths of such insignificant creatures. But this Zhou Xiaoqi dares to bite me? Seems he’s tired of living. Donghu, just grant him his wish."
"Such a pesky bug, hopping around and biting anyone it encounters—just swat it dead for peace and quiet. Publicly claim the bug stole money from the ant’s family, the scheme was exposed, and in a fit of rage, the bug killed both ants. Close the case and give a plausible explanation to the public."
Yan Shifan, truly a cunning genius, always struck right to the heart of the matter: "No need to waste manpower investigating the death of a has-been Thousand Household. Dead is dead—the Chen family has no heirs left anyway, so why bother? The Embroidered Uniform Guard deals with grand affairs. Originally, this case should’ve been handled by the Shuntian Prefecture Yamen. It’s only because this Zhou Xiaoqi stirred up trouble, brawling openly with the Northern City Military Command and the Shuntian Prefecture Yamen, that the Emperor handed this mess to the Imperial Guard Office."
He dipped his finger in ice water and drew a circle on the table. "Simply start and end with him. Wrap up the case quickly. Your precious daughter Lu Ying has lost weight over this trivial case—it pains me to see. She’d achieve more by uncovering intel on the Japanese Pirates. The southern Japanese Pirates and northern grassland rivals are the real enemies the Embroidered Uniform Guard should focus on. Don’t cling to a sesame seed and lose a watermelon."
Yan Shifan’s bizarre bureaucratic logic, solving problems by eliminating those who caused them, would resonate even in later eras—as long as superiors were satisfied.
Lu Bing bowed and said, "Thousand Household Chen, his son, and Zhou Xiaoqi all deserved to die. Your words have cleared my confusion, Donglou."
Yan Shifan’s visit was fruitful: he confirmed Ding Rukui’s critical illness and conveniently crushed the biting bug Zhou Xiaoqi. Now no one would learn of his acceptance of a 20,000-tael bribe from Thousand Household Chen or his shifting of blame onto the deceased Lord He.
Satiated, Yan Shifan took his leave. Lu Bing feigned rising to personally escort "Donglou," but the latter firmly pressed him down. "The heat outside is fierce—rest well. Having Ying’er see me off is enough. I’ll keep your heatstroke a secret."
Lu Ying accompanied Yan Shifan all the way to the main gate of the Shuntian Prefecture Yamen before returning. Lu Bing had already drafted the closing statement: Zhou Xiaoqi and Chen Dalao, both gamblers and womanizers, conspired to embezzle funds. A dispute over the spoils led Zhou Xiaoqi to kill Chen Dalao. When Thousand Household Chen uncovered the truth, Zhou Xiaoqi tampered with his saddle and poisoned him.
Lu Ying refused to accept this hasty resolution. "Father, Vice Minister Yan was clearly lying earlier. He’s involved in this case—he used you to eliminate Zhou Xiaoqi, silencing a witness while making you grateful. Why comply with his wishes knowing this?"
"What alternative is there?" Lu Bing stamped the case file. "Continuing the investigation leads to two outcomes. First, you capture the escaped Miss He Er. A life for a life—would you impartially send her, who avenged her family, to the executioner’s block?"
"I—" Lu Ying fell silent."You can't do it. You would definitely let her go." Lu Bing said, "The second outcome: you stubbornly continue investigating Vice Minister Yan's lead, causing the Yan and Lu families to turn against each other. Your second sister would have no peace in the Yan household, living in constant turmoil from then on. Moreover, Vice Minister Yan would never let you find any evidence. Even if you break your head against a wall, you'll achieve nothing. The case would become unresolved and shelved indefinitely. Is this the result you want to see?"
"I—" Lu Ying fell silent again.
Lu Bing sighed, "This is how officialdom works. The truth isn't important—solving the problem is. Zhou Xiaoqi is meant to resolve this issue. Only by concluding the case here will Miss He Er remain safe. And this person is most likely Doctor Wei. You didn't find any poison in her home, but she clearly has extensive knowledge of toxins. Look at how she casually plucked some anther from a flamingo flower tonight and solved Ding Rukui's feigned illness. A talent like this—if you recruit her, she becomes your right hand. If you force her into becoming an opponent, she'll be a formidable rival. Do you understand?"
Lu Ying's eyes shifted with internal struggle. "I understand. I'm still too weak now and can only be forced to prioritize solving the problem first. But I will never give up seeking the truth. When the time comes, I'll confront Vice Minister Yan and demand answers—what exactly was the transaction between him and Thousand Household Chen, who gave him twenty thousand taels of silver? Such a large sum couldn't have been for no reason. And Doctor Wei... someday, she'll voluntarily speak to me."
Lu Bing looked at her with the pride of a father watching his daughter mature. "You've truly grown up. Enduring a hundred hardships tempers steel. Even the emperor must sometimes practice patience and wait for the right moment."
The next day, the Imperial Guard Office posted a notice declaring the murder case of Thousand Household Chen and his son solved. The culprit was his subordinate Zhou Xiaoqi, who had a gambling addiction, stole from the Chen family, and killed both father and son to cover his crimes.
Zhou Xiaoqi was sentenced to death by hanging.
The sensational double homicide that had stirred the city finally concluded. The weather grew increasingly hot, and after several heavy rainstorms washed over the capital, the willow catkins that had floated through the city for over a month were finally swept away. With the Dragon Boat Festival approaching, dragon boat practices filled the capital's major waterways, their drumbeats shaking the heavens as teams prepared for the races.
Wang Daxia was selected for the Imperial Guard dragon boat team. Every day he carried his oar out for practice, returning only in the evening.
One morning, as Wang Daxia left the office shouldering his oar, he happened to see two soldiers escorting a tall, elegant young man with the grace of orchid and jade descending from a carriage.
The young man was so handsome that even Wang Daxia couldn't help stealing several glances.
The soldiers presented a document to the gate guards. "From the Imperial Guard's Tieling branch office. By Commander Lu's order, we've brought the exiled Ding Wu to the capital."
Ding Wu! So it was him! Upon hearing the name, Wang Daxia found himself rooted to the spot.
Author's Note: Early readers get red packets hahaha! This chapter gives away 100 red packets, first come first served. Congratulations to the six characters who will appear throughout the entire book—Wang Daxia, Wei Caiwei, Li Jiubao, Chen Jingji, Lu Ying, and Ding Wu—finally assembled in full. With everyone present, the second major act begins!
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