Chapter 43: Garlic White Meat (Part 18)
The woman's reaction differed slightly from Jing Yi's expectations.
Jing Yi had reasoned this way: any woman who deliberately adorns herself, regardless of how well she does it, at least genuinely cares about her appearance deep down.
A delicate woman who values her appearance, for some unknown reason and by some unknown method, had managed to evade Leng Yue and the entire Jing residence's notice to quietly bring a grown man like him to this dilapidated place. Now holding a gleaming pair of scissors, upon hearing his words, she should have immediately stabbed several holes in him.
Drunken World had no antidote, but blood loss and severe pain could provide slight relief. Though this relief was akin to drinking poison to quench thirst, with Jing Yi's lightness skill, this small opportunity was enough for him to vanish without a trace before this woman.
He had just noticed that on the broken table behind the woman sat an unopened paper package, from which wafted a faint aroma—steamed buns from Qingxiang Lou.
This place must still be within the capital's boundaries.
As long as he hadn't left the capital, he was confident he could find shelter or someone to save him before collapsing again.
After all, the title "Number One Young Master of the Capital" wasn't for nothing.
Whether this woman was broad-minded or Jing Yi's words hadn't struck a nerve yet, she stood frozen in place, her cheeks twitching slightly, before taking a step forward, raising her hand, and bringing the scissors down.
Snip.
She cut off a lock of Jing Yi's hair.
Looking at the lock of black hair the woman tossed to the ground, only one thought crossed Jing Yi's mind.
It's over.
No matter who this woman was, her peaceful days had come to an end.
Even if just a single strand of hair was missing, let alone a whole lock, Leng Yue would tear her house down completely.
At this moment, Leng Yue indeed felt the urge to tear down a house.
But not this woman's house—rather, the Feng residence, Feng Si'er's house.
Because Feng Si'er's steward had stopped her in the main hall, refusing to let her see Feng Si'er.
"Steward Lu," Leng Yue put away the Ministry of Justice badge that had proven useless and raised the long sword in her hand, "I'm just informing you, not asking for your permission. If you're too busy to take me to see Madame Cheng, I can go by myself."
"Constable Leng, please have some mercy..." Steward Lu looked so distressed he seemed about to kneel before Leng Yue, "To be perfectly honest with you, a careless maid accidentally let Madame learn about the master's murder last night. Madame cried her heart out all night, only falling asleep near dawn... You know about Madame's condition—if we disturb her now, it might cost her life!"
Leng Yue's eyebrow arched slightly, "Steward Lu, now you suddenly remember your mistress is seriously ill."
Steward Lu stared blankly, "Constable Leng... what do you mean by that?"
"All the servants in your Feng residence follow your orders, correct?"
Steward Lu nodded, "That's right."
"Exactly." Leng Yue narrowed her phoenix eyes, looking at the excessively humble man before her, "If I had entered just one moment later yesterday morning, your mistress would already be reunited with Lord Cheng underground. Tell me—where were the servants attending to your mistress then?"Steward Lu choked, his lips pursed. Before he could speak, Leng Yue waved her hand dismissively. "Don't bother making things up just yet... Let me ask you this: when your mistress sleeps at night, there's no one attending to her either, correct?"
Steward Lu seemed to have regained his composure, replying with humble calmness, "Allow me to explain, Constable Leng. This was arranged by Second Master Jing when he came to visit the mistress. Her illness requires quiet recuperation, and she must have ample sleep to alleviate the pain. The mistress has always been a light sleeper, and it's become even worse since she fell ill. If someone is nearby, even just waiting in the courtyard, she finds it difficult to sleep. Even my master had to move to another courtyard. So we only send people into that courtyard when needed to assist with her washing, meals, and medication..."
As he spoke, Steward Lu clasped his hands toward Leng Yue. "Regarding yesterday's incident, I haven't yet thanked Constable Leng. Many thanks for saving my life."
Leng Yue's expression didn't soften in the slightest at this gratitude.
"So that means, no one in your household knows what your mistress does daily in that courtyard, correct?"
Steward Lu looked slightly startled. "Constable Leng... What do you mean by that? The mistress has been bedridden for a long time and can barely manage her daily routines. What else could she possibly do?"
"Did you know your mistress has martial arts training?"
"Mar... martial arts?"
She hadn't mentioned this to Jing Yi.
Yesterday, when she helped Feng Si'er—who was nearly suffocated by phlegm—sit up from the bed, Feng Si'er instinctively resisted with internal energy. It was the natural reaction of a martial artist suddenly touched by a stranger.
Whether because Feng Si'er was too ill or because she reacted too quickly, the force was weak and fleeting. At the time, Leng Yue was focused on saving her and didn't pay it much mind.
But now...
A woman from the pleasure quarters, suffering from syphilis, left alone all day, with martial arts training—she really couldn't afford to take her lightly anymore.
Leng Yue frowned slightly, watching Steward Lu's thoroughly frightened appearance.
"Let me ask one last time: will you take me to see her, or shall I go myself?"
Steward Lu composed himself, let out a deep sigh, slightly bowed, and gestured with an inviting hand. "Constable Leng... please."
"Thank you."
Leng Yue followed Steward Lu back into the picturesque courtyard, through the still tightly shut door, past the corridor that grew increasingly dark and sent chills down one's spine, the stench of decay growing stronger. When they reached the doorway blocked by a heavy curtain, just as Steward Lu was about to lift it, Leng Yue stopped him.
"Constable Leng?"
Leng Yue's leaf-shaped brows furrowed slightly as she pointed to the ground before the door.
Steward Lu looked down and saw dried mud stains spread across the floor—shoe prints mixed with bare footprints, creating an inexplicably eerie atmosphere in the dim light.
Steward Lu sighed softly, his brow furrowed, and whispered, "To be honest with you, Constable Leng... Yesterday, when the maid came to serve the mistress her evening meal, she found the mistress crawling in the muddy courtyard as soon as she entered. The mistress said she had been lying in bed too long and felt stifled, wanting to come out to see the flowers. She leaned against the wall to walk out but didn't have the strength to return... The maid was heartbroken. After helping her back, she urged the mistress to take care of her health and not make the master grieve in the afterlife. That's how she accidentally revealed the news of the master's death..."
Leng Yue nodded gently.When she passed through the courtyard earlier, she had indeed noticed some marks on a patch of ground.
However, that area had no flowers to admire in any direction, nor any walls to lean against.
Those marks were absolutely nothing like what Steward Lu had described—traces left by someone crawling on the ground.
They were clearly left by one party in a struggle being pinned down and desperately fighting back.
Steward Lu had no Inner Cultivation—this she was certain of.
Leng Yue sighed silently in her heart.
If only Jing Yi were here...
Without revealing any emotion, Leng Yue lifted the door curtain, stepped aside, and watched Steward Lu push the door open before following him into the room.
The room was exactly as she had seen it yesterday: thick curtains covered all the windows and doors, making it dim, stuffy, and reeking of a pungent, foul odor—like a massive coffin.
The only difference from last time was the person on the bed.
Feng Si'er, dressed in a clean peach-colored undergarment, sat leaning against the headboard. Her lower body was covered by a thick cotton quilt, and a scroll lay spread across it. With her eyes slightly lowered, Feng Si'er gazed quietly at the scroll, her nearly bloodless lips pressed together in a faint smile, so pure and beautiful it seemed untouched by dust.
Leng Yue's heart trembled.
Something felt...
A bit off.
Leng Yue hesitated for a moment, and in that brief pause, Steward Lu had already reached the bedside. He stood respectfully with his hands at his sides and said softly, "Madam... Constable Leng is here."
Feng Si'er remained completely focused on the scroll, not moving a muscle.
Leng Yue lightened her steps and moved closer, finally able to see the contents of the scroll.
A painting of narcissus flowers.
Leng Yue had no expertise in calligraphy or painting, but she recognized the handwriting inscribed on the painting.
It was Jing Yi's writing.
Had Jing Yi given a painting to Feng Si'er?
Thinking of that missing person, a complicated feeling stirred in Leng Yue's heart.
If he were standing safely before her right now, she would definitely not beat him to death over this painting.
Leng Yue clasped her hands in a salute, her sword in hand, and softened her voice. "Madam Cheng, I have a few more questions to ask. I apologize for the disturbance."
Feng Si'er still paid her no attention, as if her soul had drifted into the painting.
Seeing the awkward standoff between the two, Steward Lu stepped forward to take the scroll from Feng Si'er's hands. "Madam, why don't you speak with Constable Leng? I'll help you put this painting away..."
Steward Lu tugged gently, but Feng Si'er did not let go. He applied a bit more force, but instead of retrieving the scroll, Feng Si'er's body swayed and toppled straight in the direction of his pull.
"Madam!"
Steward Lu panicked, releasing the scroll and reaching to support Feng Si'er. The moment his hands touched her shoulders, he recoiled as if struck by lightning, let out a horrified scream, shoved Feng Si'er away, and stumbled back several steps.
"She... she... she..."
Leng Yue stared in shock at Feng Si'er, who lay slumped on the bed still clutching the scroll, and finished Steward Lu's sentence in a low voice, "She's dead."
Steward Lu stood frozen for a moment before collapsing to his knees with a thud.
"Madam!"
Ignoring Steward Lu's wail, Leng Yue quietly set her sword aside, walked to the bedside, and gently straightened Feng Si'er's already cold body. She reached out to close those beautiful eyes that still held a trace of a smile, then pried open Feng Si'er's fingers one by one, carefully retrieving the scroll intact. She rolled it up and placed it neatly by the pillow.
When she lifted the thick cotton quilt covering Feng Si'er's legs, Leng Yue drew a sharp breath.Perhaps for ease of care, Feng Si'er only wore the upper half of her undergarments. When the heavy quilt was lifted, it revealed legs covered with poisonous sores. The inner thighs, where the sores were most concentrated, had rotted beyond recognition. The pus mixed with filth had stained the bedding beneath her into a foul mess.
Leng Yue couldn't imagine how she had managed to produce that breathtaking smile.
Steward Lu, kneeling nearby at the sight, choked with sobs.
Leng Yue slightly furrowed her brows as she removed Feng Si'er's upper garment, her movements exceedingly gentle as if afraid of causing pain to this person who had long lost all sensation.
After examining Feng Si'er from head to toe, Leng Yue turned and coldly regarded Steward Lu, who was nearly crying himself unconscious. "Save your tears for later."
Steward Lu lifted his head with a sob. "My apologies for the disgraceful display, Constable Leng... The mistress has long suffered from this illness. Now that she can... be freed, it is truly a blessing..."
"A blessing my ass. She didn't die from illness."
Steward Lu froze, his sobs halting momentarily. "N-not from illness?"
"She swallowed gold to end her life."
"This... this..." Steward Lu suddenly cried even harder. "Mistress! Why would you do this... If you wished to follow the master in death, why not take this old servant with you..."
"Enough!"
Leng Yue's sharp rebuke made Steward Lu shudder, cutting his cries short.
"No need to rush," Leng Yue picked up the sword she had set aside earlier. With a sharp "shing," she drew the blade. "Since your mistress didn't take you with her, I can take you instead."
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