Chapter 31: Garlic White Meat (Part 6)
In truth, Leng Yue was far more intrigued by the mysterious bedridden woman.
Any woman who appeared in Jing Yi's memories—even those fictional characters from his invented stories—were no different to her than enemy soldiers clad in armor, brandishing swords beneath the frontier city's defensive towers.
The only distinction was that she could happily chop off the enemies' heads.
Of course, Jing Yi remained completely unaware of this. Had he known, he wouldn't be sitting so calmly nearby, sipping tea with poetic elegance.
Leng Yue sat upright in her chair, her thumb gently stroking the sword sheath as she declared slowly yet decisively, "I have nothing to ask you. I only have a few questions for Madame Cheng. If she's unable to receive guests, I can visit her in her room."
Jing Yi slowly swallowed his tea, still sensing nothing amiss.
"Well..." Steward Lu smiled bitterly and cupped his hands, "Constable Leng, I must have been too clumsy with my words earlier... My mistress suffers from a severe illness and has been bedridden for a long time. She cannot handle emotional distress, which is why we haven't informed her about my master's murder. Questioning her would be futile."
Leng Yue showed no sign of relenting. "I understand. You explained it clearly earlier, and I believe I was equally clear. I need to ask Madame Cheng some questions, not you."
Jing Yi savored the lingering aroma of tea in his mouth and remained silent.
From his experience, all competent law enforcement officials shared a common trait—the more others tried to keep something from them, the more determined they became to uncover the truth. The more others prevented them from meeting someone, the more insistent they became on seeing that person.
Everyone under An Wang's command possessed this characteristic, including himself. Therefore, he found nothing unusual about Leng Yue's insistence on meeting Feng Si'er.
Had Steward Lu understood law enforcement officials as well as Jing Yi did, his day would have been much easier. Unfortunately, his limited knowledge of them came through artistic embellishment.
From what he understood, this young woman with willow-leaf eyebrows and phoenix eyes before him was the most ruthless and vicious law enforcement official under An Wang's command.
Steward Lu bent his waist slightly lower, speaking with increasing caution, "Constable Leng, I wouldn't dare obstruct your investigation, especially since this concerns my master's case. Both emotionally and logically, I wish to contribute... However, my mistress's illness is contagious, making it truly unsuitable for her to receive visitors..."
Leng Yue slapped her official badge on the table with measured force, her voice turning sharp. "If she won't see visitors, then she'll see the magistrate. Minister Cheng's body was discovered at his doorstep. Investigation shows no suspicious traces outside the gate. I suspect the perpetrator came from within this residence. I'm here to take the suspect, Madame Cheng Feng Si'er, in for questioning."
Steward Lu started in alarm, hurriedly waving his hands. "No, no, please..."
"Those who obstruct investigations are considered accomplices and may be punished immediately, with no liability for injuries or deaths."
This was clearly stated in the current penal code and was the most familiar law among commoners after "murderers must pay with their lives, debtors must repay their debts." As an educated man, Steward Lu knew this perfectly well.
Steward Lu stared at Leng Yue, sweating profusely and speechless.Leng Yue was tall and had practiced martial arts since childhood, her features naturally appearing more severe than those of women her age. Dressed in plain, fitted attire, she sat rigidly in the chair, expressionless and gripping her sword. Steward Lu nearly forgot in his daze that she was a woman—a seventeen-year-old woman in the bloom of youth.
Jing Yi raised an eyebrow slightly and took another leisurely sip of tea.
At this moment, he still believed his wife was the most pleasing sight in the world.
Whose wife could be like his, embodying both grace and strength in one person?
Jing Yi’s attention was entirely fixed on Leng Yue, so he failed to notice the pleading look Steward Lu cast his way.
Receiving no help, Steward Lu bent his waist even lower and reluctantly said, “Constable Leng, please don’t be angry. I truly didn’t mean it that way… If you insist on seeing the lady, please wait a moment. I’ll have someone make arrangements…”
Leng Yue narrowed her phoenix eyes. “Are you planning to arrange what can and cannot be said?”
Steward Lu broke into a cold sweat, waving his hands frantically. “No, no… How would I dare!”
“Then why bother with arrangements? I only need to ask her a few questions. I’m in a hurry to return home for the festival.” With that, Leng Yue stood up and cast a deep glance at Jing Yi. “Right?”
Jing Yi had just taken a large mouthful of tea. Startled by Leng Yue’s seemingly meaningful question, he froze, forgetting to swallow, and nodded with puffed cheeks.
Why did he suddenly feel…
That Leng Yue’s murderous aura had been directed at him all along?
It wasn’t until he followed Steward Lu, holding an umbrella, into a picturesque courtyard and stopped before a tightly shut room that Jing Yi remembered the mouthful of tea he still hadn’t swallowed.
“Lord Jing, Constable Leng.” Steward Lu halted at the door, umbrella still in hand, and turned to speak in a hushed tone. “The lady is resting inside. Please proceed as you wish.”
As Steward Lu made to leave, Leng Yue raised her sword sheath, hooking it against his neck and pulling him back abruptly. “You just said your lady can’t handle emotional distress. Why are you in such a hurry to run off now? Shouldn’t you come in with us to make introductions? What if we startle her and something happens? Who would be to blame then?”
Any woman who held a place in Jing Yi’s memory was her enemy, but that didn’t mean she wanted one of them to be scared to death by her.
Steward Lu clutched his nearly dislocated neck, coughing several times before forcing a bitter smile. “This… this is the lady’s bedchamber. It’s truly inappropriate for me to enter.”
Leng Yue turned to look at Jing Yi. Before she could speak, Jing Yi obediently said, “He’s lying.”
Under Leng Yue’s sharp glare, Steward Lu felt his neck tighten again, his heart trembling. “Constable Leng… I, I thought official business shouldn’t involve unrelated bystanders…”
Before Steward Lu could finish, Jing Yi interjected, “He’s lying again.”
“…” Steward Lu suddenly felt his tongue was rather inconveniently long.
Leng Yue glanced at Jing Yi, who was staring straight at her with a smile so obedient it made her want to pat his head.Somehow, Leng Yue suddenly recalled that in The Biography of Nine Immortals, Jing Yi had written himself as a thousand-year fox spirit rather than a dog deity—perhaps out of envy for the fox’s more vigorously wagging, magnificent tail.
Before her, Jing Yi held a smoke-colored paper umbrella, his white robes and dark hair fluttering softly in the wind. Viewed through the curtain of rain, he resembled a banished immortal. If a fluffy, snow-white tail were swaying behind him, the image would indeed be even more fitting.
Lost in thought, Leng Yue watched as Steward Lu resignedly sighed, stepped back to the doorway, took a deep breath, and slowly pushed the door open.
As the door swung ajar, an unusual, foul odor mixed with the scent of incense drifted out—not overpowering, but just enough to be noticeable.
Leng Yue froze, her expression shifting slightly as her thoughts abruptly snapped back from Jing Yi’s imaginary tail.
This scent…
Jing Yi’s smile also faded, his brow furrowing slightly.
He had been inside many women’s bedchambers before, but even those of women who had never left their beds in their entire lives did not carry such a smell.
Steward Lu, half-holding his breath, murmured softly, “Please, both of you.”
Leng Yue set her umbrella neatly by the door. Before stepping inside, she glanced back at Jing Yi, who had instinctively followed her. Her gaze was so complex that even Jing Yi couldn’t decipher its meaning.
At the very least, there was no trace of hostility in it.
The room was dimly lit—not the kind of natural dimness found in Qin Hehuan’s quarters, but the oppressive gloom created by thick fabric curtains covering every window, allowing only the faintest sliver of outside light to seep through.
And this was only the outer chamber.
Once both had entered, Steward Lu quickly closed the door behind them and whispered apologetically, “The mistress’s illness makes her sensitive to light and cold. My apologies for any discourtesy.”
Leng Yue gave a soft “Mm” in response, her expression and tone noticeably gentler.
She now understood why Steward Lu had repeatedly tried to prevent them from seeing Feng Si’er. And yet, understanding only made her more eager to meet Feng Si’er in person.
Steward Lu led them through a corridor so dark it seemed to lead straight to the underworld, stopping before a doorway shrouded by a heavy curtain. “The mistress is inside,” he said quietly.
As if to confirm Steward Lu’s words, a fit of coughing sounded from within before he had even finished speaking.
The coughs were rapid but weak, as though something were stuck in the throat, making it difficult to breathe.
Leng Yue’s expression turned grave. She stepped ahead of Steward Lu, swiftly pushed aside the curtain, and entered the room. In the blink of an eye, she moved to the window and yanked open the tightly drawn cotton drapes.
A heavy, foul odor rushed into Leng Yue’s nostrils. As if she had expected it, she didn’t even flinch. Carefully and swiftly, she lifted the woman lying on her back on the bed, cradling the feverish, limp body against her chest. With measured force, she patted the woman’s upper back. On the third pat, the woman in her arms coughed up a thick glob of phlegm, right into the handkerchief Leng Yue had already positioned by her mouth.
Watching as the woman’s purplish-red, suffocated face gradually eased with smoother breathing, Leng Yue silently let out a sigh of relief.
That was close…
Her heart still racing, Leng Yue crumpled the handkerchief and tossed it aside. When she looked down again at the woman in her arms, she realized the woman’s gaze hadn’t lingered on her savior for even a moment.Leng Yue had just stepped inside when Jing Yi and Steward Lu followed right after, now standing before the bed.
The woman stared blankly with her delicate almond-shaped eyes, gazing directly at Jing Yi's face. The light in her eyes flickered as she leaned against Leng Yue's embrace, motionless for a long while. Only after what felt like an eternity did she struggle to reveal a breathtaking smile, her pale lips trembling as she whispered weakly, "Young Master Jing..."
Her voice was feeble and hoarse, as if squeezed out with the last of her strength, yet it remained tender and melodious.
"Si..." Jing Yi had barely uttered the first syllable when he bit back the word. Pausing briefly, he smiled gently and gave a slight nod, amending, "Madam Cheng, it has been a year since we last met. Have you been well?"
Jing Yi's humility and compassion were evident in his expression—at least, that was how Leng Yue perceived it.
Leng Yue's body grew somewhat stiff, even trembling slightly.
Not from anger, but from fear.
For some reason, this woman—who could barely sit up without her support—remained stunningly beautiful even in such a frail state, so much so that Leng Yue deeply felt her own appearance was rather... carelessly arranged.
Even more frightening was that she couldn't help but think this woman and Jing Yi seemed like a pair deliberately crafted by the heavens to shame ordinary mortals.
Most terrifying of all, she could stake her life on it—they had a history together.
For a moment, Leng Yue felt her life might never be the same again.
Just then, Jing Yi took two steps closer to the bedside in the dim light, his smile growing even gentler. He reached out and rested a hand on the half of Leng Yue's shoulder not occupied by the breathtaking beauty, speaking softly to the woman whose gaze remained fixed on his face, "This is my wife."
Though Jing Yi's voice was as tender as the wispy smoke curling from the incense burner in the corner of the room, Leng Yue clearly felt the woman in her arms suddenly stiffen.
It was as if the woman had only just noticed the presence of others besides Jing Yi. Her eyes swept past Steward Lu standing respectfully to the side before she struggled to lift her head, straining to locate Leng Yue.
Her body trembled from the effort, her exquisitely beautiful face as pale as if carved from snow. Pressing her lips together, she silently watched Leng Yue, momentarily speechless.
Leng Yue helped her lie back down on the bed, tucking in the heavy quilt that seemed inappropriate for the season. Only after retrieving the sword she had hastily tossed on the bed earlier did she stand up straight beside the bed and say calmly, "Is this view clearer for you now?"
The woman stared at Leng Yue for a long time before her brows and eyes slowly curved into a weak smile. "My name is Si'er... the 'si' as in raindrops. Feng Si'er..."
These brief words seemed to drain Feng Si'er of much strength. After speaking, she parted her pale lips slightly, panting for a while before looking at Leng Yue again and whispering faintly, "We've met before..."
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