Сhаpter 273: Тhе Firе Моth Party 5
Тhе mid-June weаther was swеltеring. Аftеr sреnding a long timе examining the corрsе, Zhu Yan hаd devеlореd a finе swеаt оn hеr temрles. Just as she wаs аbout tо lift her sleevе to wipе it awaу, Shеn Du rеасhеd оver with a silk hаndkеrchiеf аnd gеntly dаbbed thе mоisture from hеr fоrehеad.
Why did this handkеrchief loоk sо fаmiliar? Zhu Yаn’s eyes widеnеd suddеnly аs shе rеmеmbеrеd—this handkеrсhief wаs hers. Нer third sister, Zhu Сaiwеi, оftеn pullеd hеr аsidе to teaсh her embroidery, insisting shе learn to sеw handkerсhiefs. Тhinking оf her dаily duties at the Ministry of Justice and following Shen Du around to investigate cases and examine corpses, Zhu Yan had designed a modified version: longer and wider than usual, with a double-layered fabric and ribbons sewn on both sides, perfect for covering her face or blocking odors. She had carried it with her ever since. But how had it ended up in Shen Du’s hands?
“Shen…”
Before she could finish, Shen Du had already moved behind her, his hands threading through her hair as he tied the handkerchief in place. Seeming somewhat unsure, he leaned in slightly from behind and asked softly:
“Too tight?”
Zhu Yan’s pretty face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and shyness. She nodded, then shook her head, before tilting her head back with some effort to look at him, her expression utterly bewildered.
Shen Du chuckled softly, adjusting the tightness himself. Seeing her eyes glistening like pools of water, his throat tightened, and he quickly stepped back a little, pointing to the mutilated body in her hands. He cleared his throat lightly:
“Have you drawn any conclusions?”
Zhu Yan followed his gaze downward. The corpse’s eyes had dried and sunken deep into their sockets, staring hollowly back at her.
“Ah!”
Only then did Zhu Yan snap back to reality, feeling somewhat dazed. Seeing Shen Du standing there unmoved, she chided herself for overthinking things, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that Shen Du had been acting strangely lately.
“What? Do you want me to put it on again?”
Zhu Yan shook her head, forcing herself to focus, and slowly began to speak:
“I estimate it’s been fourteen to fifteen years. Without dissection, I can’t be more precise.”
Shen Du gestured for her to continue.
“The degree of dehydration varies across the skin. It’s like making preserved fruit—the fruit is first dried to remove moisture, then soaked. Over months or years, the surface dehydration differs, allowing us to estimate the time. It’s the same principle here.”
Shen Du was taken aback. “Over a decade ago? The rumors about the Half-Faced Ghost eating people only started a few years back, didn’t they? Could they have begun so early? And why only cause a stir now?”
Some things were truly baffling. Shen Du couldn’t make sense of it, and neither could Zhu Yan.
“Some are from five or six years ago, others three or four. For instance, this one, Li Kaixiang, is relatively recent, so it still closely resembles its living state. However, since it wasn’t processed immediately at the scene, some livor mortis has developed, and the internal organs show signs of decay. The food retrieved from the abdominal cavity matches Li Kairui’s account, with only one addition: datura.”
Shen Du was well aware of this. Li Kaixiang’s death had been orchestrated by Ji Dafu, so it was no surprise that something had been mixed into the wine. He moved a little closer to Zhu Yan, leaning down to examine the mutilated part in her hands, lost in thought:
“I fear these cases are not as simple as they appear on the surface. Their decision to cause a stir now must be to pave the way for a larger conspiracy.”
Zhu Yan took a slight step to the side, straightening her posture. Her gaze grew more serious. “Great Pavilion Commander, you must remain vigilant at all times and solve this case as soon as possible!”
Shen Du frowned in displeasure, his voice tinged with dissatisfaction. “Husband.”
This woman kept addressing him as “Great Pavilion Commander,” and it grated on his ears.
Zhu Yan was taken aback. “What?”
Shen Du looked down at her, his gaze sharp. The usually impassive Great Pavilion Commander now wore his displeasure plainly on his face.Zhu Yan coughed lightly, her cheeks flushing faintly. "You never insisted on it before—isn't it just a form of address? Why make such a fuss? Besides, we're on official duty now."
Yet Shen Du chose to be stubborn about it. "It's different."
Was this woman doing it on purpose? He had laid his heart bare—did she not understand, or was she simply unwilling to?
The Great Pavilion Commander—that was how his subordinates addressed him. The difference lay in the distance it implied.
Zhu Yan felt uneasy too. Surrounded by so many mutilated bodies, Shen Du insisted she change her address to "husband." She really wanted to check if he was running a fever.
Was this still the same iron-faced, impartial Great Pavilion Commander, the White King of Hell Shen Du, who never let personal matters interfere with official duties?
"Then," Zhu Yan said, intimidated by Shen Du's threatening gaze, trying to negotiate reasonably, "how about 'Shen Du'? Shen Du, let me tell you about these Human Preserves..."
Her face was cupped and turned toward Shen Du, whose anger was unmistakably real. "It has to be 'husband.'"
This...
Speechless, Zhu Yan couldn't help but roll her eyes at Shen Du. Seeing how serious he looked, she had no choice but to relent. "Fine, I get it, Great Pav—stop glaring. I mean, big brother, big brother."
"What big brother? Husband!"
When a man gets stubborn, he's no less persistent than a woman.
Zhu Yan had no choice but to give in. "Husband, husband, husband. Happy now?" Phew, had Shen Du turned into a three-year-old? So childish.
Shen Du pursed his lips, somewhat displeased. This was clearly just perfunctory.
Well, good things take time.
Suddenly, Zhu Yan remembered what Wang Buzui had said. She led Shen Du to Er Mazi's corpse and pointed at the words carved on it. "Yesterday, Wang Buzui kept muttering this phrase too. What do you think it really means?"
The corpse showed faint signs of decay, tinged with green and bearing lividity marks. Shen Du couldn't see clearly, so he leaned in closer. As he raised his hand, something fell from his sleeve.
A small woven vine pig—this wasn't the first time Zhu Yan had seen it.
Shen Du noticed the object had fallen and immediately picked up the woven pig. He blew on it to dust it off before carefully tucking it back into his sleeve.
Instantly, Zhu Yan's mind buzzed as if suddenly clearing. She raised her hand and tapped her head a few times.
She spoke up, "Shen Du, once this case is resolved and we return to the capital, let's divorce."
She wasn't someone who made unreasonable demands. She dared to admit that, after spending day and night together, she had indeed developed feelings for him.
But Shen Du had someone else in his heart—new love, old love. Everyone says old love can't compare to new love, but that's all lies.
Old love is like a thorn—when stirred, it always brings piercing pain.
A gentleman delights in helping others achieve their happiness. She was no gentleman, nor did she stoop to being petty.
Shen Du's face instantly darkened. "What did you say?"
The change in his expression was like shifting from a sunny day to a stormy, thunderous night. Zhu Yan couldn't help but tremble inwardly.
"Nothing."
"Zhu Yan, I'm not deaf."
Though Shen Du's words were spoken lightly, Zhu Yan sensed an unusual tone in them.Instantly, blood rushed to her head, and her mind boiled over. "What's wrong with me saying we should separate? Do you really want to divorce me instead? They say one day as husband and wife brings a hundred days of affection. Even though ours is fake, we at least have the title! Besides, we’ve worked together on so many cases—surely there’s some friendship between us! Can’t you stop always targeting my head? Killing me won’t do any good. Keeping me alive, so you can call on me whenever you need—isn’t it better to just summon me from the Ministry of Justice whenever you want?"
The more she spoke, the angrier she grew, but at least her rationality returned somewhat, so the more she spoke, the more timid she became.
Shen Du let out a breath, pressing a hand below his chest, unable to utter a single word as he looked at Zhu Yan.
He was truly so angry it made his liver ache.
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