Chapter Forty-Seven: The Magistrate

General Ji Wuye moved with remarkable efficiency. After discussing some details with the Emerald Tiger, he ordered his men to arrange their entry into the Palace of Han.

“Your Majesty, such a grave case in Xinzheng, and the victim being the current Left Commander, cannot be taken lightly. If we do not act, the people's anger will not subside. The court will be thrown into chaos, which is not conducive to stability.” Ji Wuye knew exactly what King An of Han desired: stability above all.

King An was no longer the ambitious crown prince who once dreamed of conquering the Hundred Yue and vying for the throne. With age and declining health, his ambitions had been worn away. Now, he was merely an old man seeking a peaceful twilight to his days.

“What does General Ji suggest?” King An’s voice was weak, leaving the decision entirely to Ji Wuye.

“I believe the ideal candidate must possess both status and wisdom. The Ninth Prince is most suitable for this task.” Ji Wuye directly put forward Han Fei.

King An squinted, pondering. He was well aware of Han Fei’s talents, but knew his temperament was ill-suited for politics. As a father, he understood this well. If not for Ji Wuye’s suggestion, he would never have considered involving Han Fei in state affairs.

When Han Fei had first returned to Han, he had mentioned the possibility of regency, but King An had rejected it every time. Outward appearances aside, King An was not as indifferent to Han Fei as he seemed; he simply wished to keep his son far from the court’s stormy whirlpool.

Since Ji Wuye had recommended him, King An had no reason to refuse. The position of Sike, after all, was one Han Fei excelled at. Letting him taste the life of an official would do no harm, so King An nodded his assent.

As Han Fei held the official appointment in his hands, his thoughts turned immediately to the murder of Liu Yi, the Left Commander, that morning. His first reaction was to suspect instigation—otherwise, his father would never have appointed him to this role.

The sky was blue, clouds drifting lazily. A light breeze rippled across the lake, where countless points of light danced on the water, a beauty that calmed the soul.

Li Yu strolled among the pavilions, taking in the splendor of the royal palace, experiencing firsthand the life of ancient royalty. He could not help but feel a surge of emotion.

“Grandmaster, why are you here?” a clear voice called from behind him—it was the Songbird.

Li Yu broke into a cold sweat. He’d been careless—not long ago, he’d encountered this little Peach Blossom playing in the garden, and now he’d let his guard down again.

He quickly composed himself. “Didn’t I promise to teach you Taiji? Since court ended early today, I thought there’s no better time than the present.” He seized the opportunity to fulfill his promise.

“How did you know I was in the garden?” Little Peach Blossom was not so easily fooled.

“I followed the scent of flowers,” Li Yu replied reflexively, immediately regretting his words. Old habits die hard—he was too used to speaking suggestively to pretty girls. He needed to change that.

“Scent? What scent?” Little Peach Blossom blinked her large, bright eyes in curiosity.

“The scent of peach blossoms,” Li Yu said, pointing at a nearby bare tree.

“You’re a liar, Grandmaster. There are no blossoms on that tree, and it’s not even a peach tree!” she immediately corrected him.

“Are you going to learn Taiji or not? If not, I’m leaving,” Li Yu, at a loss for excuses, threatened to go.

“All right, all right, Grandmaster! I won’t ask anymore,” she said, clinging to his arm and acting coquettish.

Li Yu quickly stepped aside, afraid he might lose control of himself.

Today, Honglian wore a long dress—beautiful and fresh, with a style that perfectly suited a young girl’s innocence and romanticism. Her figure, already showing signs of early development, was like a flower bud slowly blooming, full of beauty and purity, like a grape on the verge of ripening, crystal-clear and inviting.

Fortunately, he’d already relieved much of his tension during the last tidal moon, or he might have embarrassed himself. Li Yu did not understand why his needs seemed only to grow, his body like a perpetual motion machine. He really ought to find a healer’s descendant—he thought instinctively of Duanmu Rong.

Damn that overactive vitality!

“You’ve already studied the basics with Zi Nu; I won’t start from scratch.” Li Yu put on a stern face, playing the role of a teacher.

“Heaven and earth are divided into yin and yang; Taiji gives birth to the dualities, the dualities to the Four Symbols, the Four Symbols to the Eight Trigrams. Heaven is symbolized by the Four Symbols, earth by the Eight Trigrams.” As he taught, Li Yu grew genuinely serious.

Little Peach Blossom nodded in confusion, not really understanding, but trying her best.

Li Yu explained as he demonstrated the basics of Taiji. Little Peach Blossom followed his movements, and together they formed a perfect tableau of master and disciple beneath the spring sun.

Honglian gazed at Li Yu, earnest in his teaching. “Grandmaster, may I formally become your disciple? My master is too strict, and her lessons are so hard. Yours are much easier!”

“Taiji is easy to learn, difficult to master. Zi Nu’s teaching is fast but shallow, which might help with other martial arts, but with Taiji, you need to work twice as hard for half the results.” Li Yu lectured gravely, not wanting another beautiful disciple.

“That’s enough for today. Taiji is about endless change, not fixed forms, but the pursuit of inner meaning. Practice what I’ve taught you, reflect on it yourself. The incantation I’ve given you—now, it’s up to you.” With that, Li Yu hurried away—he had more pressing matters and could not linger.

Outside the palace gates, a carriage awaited him.

“Brother Fang!” It was Han Fei.

“Where are you headed?” Li Yu asked, stepping forward.

“Where are you off to, Brother Fang?” Han Fei asked in return.

“I heard the Left Commander Liu Yi was murdered. I wanted to pay my respects—we had tea together just two days ago. How quickly things change,” Li Yu replied with a sigh.

“We’re headed the same way. Ride with me,” Han Fei invited.

Li Yu accepted without hesitation.

“What business takes you there?” Li Yu inquired curiously.

Han Fei said nothing at first, then produced his appointment and a seal, handing them to Li Yu.

Li Yu examined them, then congratulated him. “At last you have your wish, Brother Han. Congratulations!”

Han Fei smiled bitterly. “On my first day in office, I’m faced with such a case. What is there to celebrate?”

“Your talents will make short work of this,” Li Yu encouraged him.

Han Fei nodded, “I’ll take your kind words to heart. But what brings you to the palace gates now? Wasn’t court over long ago?”

Li Yu hesitated, thinking Han Fei might have forgotten, but smiled and said, “Your sister wished to practice martial arts, so she asked me to teach her a little.”

“Oh? You know martial arts as well?” Han Fei was even more curious.

Li Yu’s heart skipped a beat, but he answered with a smile, “Just enough for health. I’ve only studied martial arts for half a year.”

Han Fei gave him a look but let the matter drop, instead asking about Liu Yi. Li Yu replied with what he could, keeping silent on matters like Lady Hu.

The residence of the Left Commander was completely sealed off by Han soldiers; none without proper identification could enter or leave.

When the guards saw Han Fei approach, they greeted him respectfully, “Greetings, Ninth Prince.”

“Call me Sike,” Han Fei corrected, handing over his official documents.

He preferred the title Sike over Ninth Prince.

“Yes, Lord Sike!” the officer replied respectfully.

The two proceeded to the rear courtyard and soon arrived at the study, the scene of the crime. The room was covered in sword marks, the secret chamber door thrown open, blood trails and traces of burning clearly visible. Yet everything was in chaos, with no discernible clues.

“Who would have thought—after just a few days, Liu Yi is dead,” Li Yu lamented.

Han Fei ignored his sighs, already absorbed in the investigation. His sharp eye saw that the sword marks had been added after the fact—deliberate chaos to cover something up. The real traces had been obliterated, leaving only blurred sword wounds that suggested a fight.

Li Yu doubted Han Fei could solve it. He trusted in the web’s ability to erase evidence, and with three factions at play, each with their own motives, who would guess the true motive was for a widow?

Such a case would be unsolvable in ancient times—modern technology might have helped, but unless Han Fei could divine the truth, there was no chance now.

Li Yu had no interest in shadowing Han Fei’s investigation. He made his way to the rear courtyard and soon, guided by a maid, found Lady Hu.

Lady Hu waited in her chambers, still wearing a pale green, dignified dress, her posture graceful and elegant. Upon seeing Li Yu, however, her beautiful eyes betrayed anxiety and nervousness. Her hand, resting on her abdomen, tightened—she was clearly afraid.

Why was she so nervous? She must know Han Fei was investigating and was in a panic. Yes, that must be it.

“Sister-in-law, I’ve come to mourn my brother,” Li Yu said, his composure perfected after recent trials, bowing respectfully with a mournful tone.

Lady Hu pressed her lips together, bowed slightly, and instructed the maid beside her, “Prepare some tea and snacks, please.”

“Yes, madam,” the maid replied, leaving and closing the door behind her.

As the door closed, Lady Hu’s heart tightened. She looked at Li Yu, her gaze complex, and asked softly, “Why are you here?”

“Though my acquaintance with Brother Liu Yi was brief, our meeting was one of kindred spirits. With this tragedy, I must pay my respects. Besides, my brother is investigating the case—I came with him, and to see you as well.”

Li Yu’s gentle tone sought to soothe Lady Hu’s obvious anxiety.

Your brother?

Lady Hu glanced at Li Yu, lips pursed, somewhat lost.

“Sister-in-law, don’t worry. Everything is under control,” Li Yu assured her, stepping forward and respectfully half-embracing her.

He had no intention of impropriety—he generally behaved himself, unless provoked. He simply wanted to put her at ease.

“Let’s sit and discuss the case. Han Fei is leading the investigation and will soon question you. Let’s align our stories to avoid unnecessary trouble.”

Feeling his presence, Lady Hu was uneasy, but sensing no impropriety, she relaxed a little. Still, she was wary of Li Yu.

Li Yu continued, “There’s no need to worry. Han Fei is my close friend. He won’t implicate you—trust me.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“And what about you?” Lady Hu’s eyes darted away, her fists clenching. Last night’s events were still fresh—Li Yu had been involved throughout, and the deaths may have had something to do with him. After all, two charred corpses had been found that morning. One was certainly Liu Yi; the other, she could guess.

“There’s no need to worry about me. Even if I was injured last night, as long as you keep silent, Han Fei won’t discover anything. It will be only between us,” Li Yu whispered in her ear, holding her tightly.

There was something mesmerizing in his words and the strength of his embrace. Lady Hu’s body softened, her cheeks flushed, and she became flustered, unsure how to resist.

“Where are you hurt?” she asked softly.

“As long as you let me hold you for a moment, no injury is too great,” Li Yu replied, his eyes full of sincerity, his words practiced.

“Don’t talk nonsense!” she protested, struggling to break free, biting her lip in embarrassment and irritation.

Li Yu only held her tighter. “Just a moment—I promise nothing more.”

What else do you want?! Since her first encounter with Li Yu, Lady Hu felt as if a window had been opened in her heart, but for someone as reserved as she was, it was overwhelming. Her delicate face flushed, her voice trembling as she stammered, “Just for a moment, then.”

“I promise, just a moment,” Li Yu swore silently by his other name, Fang Yu. He was a man of his word; soon, he released her, rubbing his chest with a “weakened” expression. “I’m fine now.”

Released, Lady Hu sighed in relief, but seeing his pallor, she asked, “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. Let’s talk about the case,” Li Yu replied, secretly circulating his inner breath. His face turned pale, but he remained calm—he dared not embrace her any longer, lest his injury truly resurface.

Lady Hu, watching his ashen face and recalling the blood and sword marks in the study, felt a strange emotion—a mixture of sorrow and helplessness.

“You should go rest. I know what to say. My younger sister is Lady Hu the Beauty—they wouldn’t dare press me too hard,” she said softly, concern in her eyes.

Li Yu shook his head without hesitation, his expression turning grim. “Lady Hu the Beauty can’t solve this. Many in the household know you quarreled with Liu Yi last night—Han Fei will question you about it. How will you answer?”

“I...I often quarreled with Liu Yi,” she replied softly after a brief hesitation.

That was not entirely untrue—most of the time, it was Liu Yi shouting and Lady Hu enduring. She had always been a gentle, submissive woman.

“If you answer like that, Han Fei will be suspicious. Besides, you’re terrible at lying—your eyes, your expression, and those hands—don’t clench them so tightly. Try to look natural.” As he spoke, Li Yu gently moved her hands from her chest to her lap, instructing her in detail.

“If Han Fei asks, say Liu Yi was drunk and took it out on you. As for years of quarreling, say it was because you couldn’t bear children.”

Lady Hu nodded earnestly. She was not skilled at lying, but she was obedient and could distinguish right from wrong.

“Remember what I’ve told you. As long as you survive Han Fei’s questioning without arousing suspicion, the matter will be over, and you can begin a new life,” Li Yu said, squeezing her hand as he stressed “new life.”

Lady Hu sensed the deeper meaning in his words and did not know how to respond.

“Don’t worry, I’m not like Liu Yi. I’ll help you find your daughter,” Li Yu promised.

Her eyes grew bright with hope as she looked at him.

“I swear I will,” he said solemnly, for he had already found her. He just needed the right time and reason to tell Lady Hu.

Just as Li Yu had predicted, Han Fei, finding nothing in the study, soon came to question Lady Hu. She answered with slight nervousness, but her responses were flawless, leaving Han Fei with no grounds for suspicion.

“That’s enough—my sister-in-law is just a gentle woman,” Li Yu reminded Han Fei, nudging him.

Han Fei paused, then smiled and apologized to Lady Hu. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, madam. I’ve finished my questions.”

“Thank you, Ninth Prince, thank you,” Lady Hu replied, bowing slightly before leaving, supported by her maid. She did not dare meet Li Yu’s eyes—a detail he had anticipated, for such glances might have aroused Han Fei’s suspicions.

As Li Yu and Han Fei walked away, Li Yu asked casually, “Any clues from the study?”

“It’s difficult. I suspect a third party destroyed the evidence. Among the sword wounds, I found traces of two people fighting—one with an extremely sharp blade. Unfortunately, the later chaos destroyed the evidence. What were they trying to hide? Why burn everything?” Han Fei mused, his brow furrowed as he questioned himself.

Ruminate all you like, just don’t drag me and my sister-in-law into it.

“Do you mean someone other than Ji Wuye’s men were involved?” Li Yu prompted, happy to let all suspicion fall on Ji Wuye. The Vulture was, after all, a Nightfall assassin—hardly an injustice.

“Yes, if Ji Wuye’s men had done it, the scene wouldn’t be this messy. His killers never leave such chaos,” Han Fei replied with conviction. But who was this third party, and why cover up everything? What secret was Liu Yi involved in?

Han Fei looked at Li Yu, who felt uneasy and changed the subject. “Anything else?”

Han Fei nodded, “There were two crime scenes—one in the study, the other—” he pointed to the courtyard outside—“here. Though it looks clean, I found blood and drag marks under the sand. The second victim had multiple fatal wounds, as if struck down simultaneously by several people.”

Li Yu’s hair stood on end, but he said nothing, letting Han Fei continue.

“Furthermore,” Han Fei glanced at Li Yu, “this third party acted like a yellowbird, waiting for the others to finish before killing. Judging by the wounds, there were at least three assailants. They waited for the outcome inside, then struck.”

Li Yu cursed silently—Han Fei was truly a genius, as if he’d been there himself. Best to be cautious around him from now on.

Han Fei continued, “The question is, what was their motive? If we knew that, the case would be easy to solve.”

“Wasn’t it for money?” Li Yu ventured.

Han Fei shook his head, “Though the secret room was ransacked, I saw no evidence of anything being taken. Perhaps the second victim came for treasure and failed, only to be killed by the third party.”

Li Yu fell silent, fearing he might say too much. “I can’t be of much help here—I have other matters. I’ll take my leave.”

Han Fei, deep in thought, nodded. “I’ll investigate further on my own. No need to see you off.”

Li Yu cupped his hands and left, while Han Fei watched his retreating figure, eyes narrowing.

At Lanxiu Manor, after several days, Wushuang Ghost had become much closer to Li Yu—mainly due to his irresistible barbecue, which Wushuang Ghost could never replicate.

Li Yu glanced around, noticing the little cat was missing. “Where’s your boss? Out again?” he asked the daydreaming Wushuang Ghost.

Wushuang Ghost growled and pointed toward the east kitchen.

Li Yu was surprised—Yanling Ji never cooked. What was she doing there?

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from the kitchen. In a flash, Li Yu rushed over and saw a small tabby cat dart out, carrying a bowl of some unknown substance, coughing and covered in soot—who else but Yanling Ji?

“My lady, what are you doing?” Li Yu asked in curiosity.

“I’ve been living off your hospitality for so long; I thought I’d repay you with a bowl of meat porridge. The cook taught me herself—try it,” she said, offering him the indescribable concoction.

Li Yu wanted to refuse, but braced himself and accepted. Under her expectant gaze, he took a bite.