Chapter 44: Garlic White Meat (Part 19)
Steward Lu stared in astonishment at the sword in Leng Yue's hand. Though the blade remained at least an arm's length from the tip of his nose, he could already feel the chilling aura radiating from the steel.
Recalling the rumors circulating in the capital about this woman, Steward Lu felt a growing unease in his heart.
"Constable Leng..."
Leng Yue didn't advance further, maintaining her distance while keeping the sword pointed steadily at the steward's nose. Her voice was low yet rapid: "I sensed something amiss when I came yesterday, and it just occurred to me - though Madame Cheng came from the pleasure quarters and married into your wealthy household, why is there not a single piece of jewelry to be seen, neither on her dressing table nor her person?"
Steward Lu seemed unprepared for this question. After a moment's daze, he lifted his sleeve to wipe the tears from his face, rising unsteadily to his feet with hands hanging respectfully. "This... this was Second Master Jing's instruction. He said Madame's skin condition made it unsuitable for her to wear jewelry..."
"Stop hiding behind the Second Master!" Leng Yue cut him off sharply before he could finish, her phoenix eyes flashing. "It's reasonable not to wear jewelry due to skin sores, but what about her hair? I refuse to believe the Second Master would say a long-term bedridden patient should leave such long hair loose and disheveled like a ghost!"
Steward Lu was stunned into silence by her outburst.
The dimly lit room held not a breath of wind, the heavy stench of decay permeating the stifling air until it became nauseating. If Feng Si'er's corpse were to remain here until morning, the smell would linger in this room for months.
Leng Yue inexplicably thought of that person who could shatter the heavens with his wailing, her gaze involuntarily scanning the roof beams - empty.
Fortunately, he wasn't here.
Leng Yue took slow breaths in the foul air, her sword still steadily aimed at Steward Lu's nose, though her voice unexpectedly softened slightly. "And also... how can a sickroom meant for long-term residence lack even a drinking cup? Not just cups - look around yourself. Is there any porcelain in this room at all? Even the tables and chairs - all their edges have been rounded off. You were afraid she would kill herself, weren't you?"
"I won't hide it from you, Constable Leng... precisely so." Steward Lu bowed his head deeply, his voice trembling slightly. "Ever since Madame learned of her illness, she's been determined to die. The family discovered several attempts... It was better when someone was constantly attending to her, but after she became bedridden and needed absolute rest, I had all dangerous items removed from the room. Who would have thought Madame still..."
Steward Lu choked up, shaking his head.
"Attending?" Leng Yue's voice turned cold again instantly. "This wasn't attending - this was house arrest."
Steward Lu looked up in shock. "Constable Leng..."
"Last night she tried to escape. You discovered her just as she reached the courtyard. Though she had martial arts training and fought back, her illness had weakened her too much. You still managed to pin her to the ground and subdue her."
"No, no, no..." Steward Lu waved his hands in panic. "Constable Leng, how can you say such things! Madame was just going out to admire the flowers..."
Leng Yue wanted to wait for him to finish speaking, but found she couldn't bear to."Look at the damn flowers! If it happened as you said—that she went out to see the flowers, collapsed from exhaustion, and crawled from the courtyard back into the room—then there should be abrasions on the front of her body and the palms of her hands. But now she has abrasions on her back, the backs of her legs, and her elbows. Try lying on your back and crawling for me!"
Seeing Steward Lu speechless, Leng Yue grew even angrier.
"Look at the bruises you beat into her body yourself—two ribs are broken... She was already this ill, and you still had the heart to do this!"
"Constable Leng..." After being scolded repeatedly by Leng Yue, Steward Lu instead steadied himself, his brow relaxing slightly as he remained standing respectfully with hands at his sides. "I have heard that Qi Xuan, the eldest son of the top silk merchant in the capital, Xiao Yunde, the third son of Prince Yu, and Du Zhong, the third steward of the Jing Zhaoyin's residence, have all suffered the same unjust fate as my master, with the perpetrators still at large. As an officer of the law, instead of seeking justice for the innocent dead, you are here making false accusations... Aren't you afraid that the next victim might be Fourth Master Jing?"
Leng Yue's expression shifted slightly.
The room was too dim, so Steward Lu only saw the movement of Leng Yue's cheekbones before a silver flash and a soft "swish" left his right arm feeling cold.
Startled, Steward Lu looked down to find his right sleeve had been cleanly severed at the shoulder.
His arm remained completely unharmed.
It was as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him from head to toe. Though standing in the stifling, breathless room, every inch of his body felt frozen stiff, and for a moment he dared not move a muscle.
"False accusations? I wouldn't waste my blood on you."
Leng Yue lowered her sword tip slightly, pointing at Steward Lu's now-exposed right wrist. "I noticed the bite mark on your wrist when you bowed to me in the main hall earlier. When you reached out to push the door just now, I took a closer look. Dare you compare it with your mistress's teeth marks?"
Before Steward Lu could respond, Leng Yue continued, "And the footprints at the door—did you think you could lie through your teeth just because the corridor was dark? A maid? Which maid in your household has feet as big as yours? Bring her here so I can see for myself."
"Constable Leng..."
As soon as Steward Lu spoke, another silver flash appeared.
This time, the cold sensation spread across his entire upper body.
After the silver light vanished, Steward Lu was left wearing only his undergarments.
Leng Yue narrowed her phoenix eyes, carefully scanning Steward Lu's bruised and battered torso. "Hmm... all from fists and kicks. In this household, aside from your master and mistress, everyone follows your orders. I doubt they'd dare lay hands on you... Don't tell me your master's ghost came back to beat you up. I scare easily."
Steward Lu stood silently, staring intently at the person Leng Yue had laid flat on the bed. His hands slowly clenched, his chest heaving for a moment before he forced out through gritted teeth, "This vile woman... this vile woman was in cahoots with the Jing family's lackeys! She deserved to die!"
With a loud cry, he spread his arms and lunged at Leng Yue.
Leng Yue's long sword was still held straight before her. If Steward Lu continued his lunge, the blade would run him through like a skewer before he could even reach her.
After years of martial training, Leng Yue could clearly distinguish from the initial movement whether an opponent was aiming to kill her or themselves.
So with a flick of her wrist, she deftly twirled her sword, stepping forward to meet Steward Lu's charge and striking the hilt hard against the hollow of his neck.Butler Lu’s body stiffened, and without even a chance to let out a muffled groan, he collapsed straight to the ground.
Yet, Leng Yue still heard a lingering sound in her ears.
Butler Lu’s final words to this world seemed to hang unceasingly in the unbearably stuffy room.
Vile woman, Jing family’s lackey, birds of a feather, deserved to die.
Leng Yue’s heart pounded fiercely.
Jing Yi…
Where in the world was he?
Jing Yi was lying obediently on the bed.
After the woman snipped off that lock of his hair, she looked at Jing Yi, whose face only showed a hint of regret, and sighed softly as if she, too, felt some regret. Stroking Jing Yi’s satin-like hair, she murmured to herself, “Every man I’ve met… I’ve asked them this question: Am I beautiful, or is their wife more beautiful? Not one has ever said what you just did. Every single one told me I’m a hundred, a thousand times more beautiful than their wives.”
Jing Yi hummed thoughtfully, then replied quite earnestly, “They were probably telling the truth.”
The woman froze slightly.
Jing Yi tilted his chin up, straining to lift his eyelids to their limit as he glanced at the woman, and smiled gently. “After all, not just anyone’s wife can be as beautiful as mine.”
“…”
“By the way, no need to cut the front too short. A bit of longer, wispy hair gives an ethereal vibe.”
“…”
Jing Yi closed his eyes and waited for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, nearly dozing off, before he felt the woman snip off another lock of his hair—this time with noticeable force.
Jing Yi’s mood was a little complicated.
Why was it still about cutting hair…?
“I’ve seen your wife…” The woman tossed the severed strands to the floor and said indifferently, “She does have some charm, but her manner is coarse, lacking grace. Even the most beautiful appearance is diminished by it.”
Jing Yi shook his head firmly. “My wife has a very good temper. She’s never coarse to good people. Those who’ve seen her act wild… well, they weren’t exactly good folks.”
The woman’s hand paused, a trace of inexplicable irritation in her voice. “Then you must dislike that she’s an officer.”
Jing Yi furrowed his brow hard, again straining to lift his eyelids, and gave an innocent look at the woman, whose expression had darkened. “Sister… do you really know who I am?”
“…?”
“Well… let me introduce myself,” Jing Yi spread a sweet but not cloying smile across his flawless, handsome face, appearing utterly guileless. “I’m Jing Yi, the Deputy Chief of the Dali Temple. You’ve caught the wrong person, haven’t you?”
“…No.”
Unhurriedly, Jing Yi withdrew his smile and pouted.
When Jing Yi smiled, it was like spring blossoms; when his smile faded, it was like flowers withering. The woman felt an inexplicable pang in her heart, and along with it, an impulse to comfort him. Even her hand holding the scissors lowered slightly.
While the woman was still staring distractedly at Jing Yi’s transcendentally handsome face, he suddenly puffed out his fair cheeks, like a frog squatting on a lotus leaf on a summer night.
The woman’s wandering attention snapped back instantly.
“If you didn’t catch the wrong person, then you must be out of your mind.”
“…”
The woman’s chest heaved a few times sharply. She tightened her grip on the scissors and—snip—cut off a large chunk of Jing Yi’s hair.
Jing Yi felt somewhat hopeless.
It seemed she wouldn’t pay any attention to his skin and flesh until she was done “serving” his hair.Jing Yi was annoyed for the first time that his well-maintained hair was a bit too long and thick.
"That... don’t you want to know how you’re being foolish?"
"..."
"It’s like this—since I’m also in the service, of course I wouldn’t mind my wife being in the service. If you can’t even grasp such a simple logic, then you’re definitely foolish."
"..."
Jing Yi clearly felt the woman’s frequency and force in cutting his hair had increased.
The woman tugged at Jing Yi’s hair and snipped seven or eight times before letting out a cold snort. "Women and men are different."
"Right, right, right... that’s true. My wife is the only woman in the Three Judicial Offices. Prince An is always worried she might be treated unfairly, so in a year, the rewards he gives her are even more than the salary I earn as a Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review."
The woman tried to hold back but ultimately couldn’t bear it any longer.
"If she’s so perfect in every way, why are you still out philandering!"
Jing Yi was suddenly confronted by the woman’s sharp question and froze for a moment. He lifted his eyelids again.
"Where exactly have I seen you before?"
"Do you know Hua Mei, the current Top Courtesan of Sparrow Nest Brothel, the number one pleasure house in the capital?"
Hua Mei covered her mouth and sneezed in her boudoir.
"Cold, close the..."
Leng Yue, who had just leaped into the room through the window, turned and shut it. She looked with some concern at the person curled up on the bed. "Sister Hua Mei, are you feeling unwell?"
"Mmm..."
Hua Mei responded lazily, pulling the vibrant brocade quilt tighter around herself, showing no intention of getting up to greet her guest.
It was only when Leng Yue approached the bedside that she noticed Hua Mei’s unnaturally flushed cheeks. She reached out to feel Hua Mei’s forehead and was startled. "You were fine last night—how did you suddenly get such a high fever? Have you seen a doctor?"
"I poured cold water on myself..." Hua Mei chuckled softly from under the covers. "Don’t worry, Imperial Physician Jing just examined me..."
Leng Yue was taken aback.
The pulse of syphilis was easily misread before sores appeared, and if it was further affected by the pulse of a cold and high fever, it really was possible to fool Jing Bai.
Hua Mei’s smile turned bitter. Her beautiful eyes held a heartbreaking plea as she looked weakly at Leng Yue by the bedside. "Don’t tell anyone... I don’t want to die on the streets covered in festering sores..."
Leng Yue pressed her lips together, neither nodding nor shaking her head.
"Sister Hua Mei... there’s something I can’t figure out. I’d like to talk with you."
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