Chapter 11: Whispers in Tang County

At the entrance, the elderly court attendant Wei Fu, who was sweeping the floor, couldn’t help but interject upon hearing the conversation between Song Qiyun and the others.

After speaking, he suddenly realized something, slapped himself across the face, and bitterly scolded himself for speaking too hastily.

He was slight in build and wore the loose attendant’s robe.

The blow caused his figure to sway, making him appear even more frail and weak.

“Old constable, what’s the matter with you?”

Bai Kaiji couldn’t stand it and kindly reached out to steady him.

Wei Fu quickly bowed and apologized, earnestly begging Bai Kaiji and the others not to tell anyone else that it was he who had spoken those words.

“The county captain specifically forbade us from mentioning such things, saying that talking like that is mysterious and superstitious, meant to mislead the masses!”

Song Qiyun ordered someone to fetch the county records, and indeed, they found the incident Wei Fu had mentioned.

In the jurisdiction of Tang County during the previous dynasty, a massacre had occurred.

“I knew something felt off when I entered Tang County’s territory. It’s gloomy and chilling—the suicide forest is the most sinister.”

Lu Yang shuddered slightly, rubbing his arm.

Though a towering and fearless man who would fight to the death without hesitation when challenged in the martial world, he was truly afraid of ghosts!

Lu Yang immediately clutched his stomach, shouting that his old ailment had flared up and that he needed to return to the capital for a doctor’s prescription.

“Cut it out.”

Song Qiyun showed him no mercy.

Lu Yang insisted,

“When you first invited me to work at the Dali Temple, Song Shaoqing, we agreed that I wouldn’t handle cases involving ghosts.”

“Rest assured, I guarantee it’s not ghosts. There are simply no cases caused by ghosts in this world—what haunts us is the human heart.”

Lu Yang was half convinced.

Knowing Song Qiyun’s response meant he wasn’t planning to let him go, he moved closer to Bai Kaiji’s side.

Bai Kaiji naturally took the opportunity to tease Lu Yang.

“You’re usually so arrogant and restless. Looks like this time it’s your turn to eat dirt.”

The group immediately arrived at the Red Sleeve Pavilion.

Suddenly, a familiar cough sounded from behind.

Everyone turned to see Shen Weimu had also followed them here.

Lu Yang asked,

“What are you doing here?”

“You think I wanted to come?”

If it weren’t for realizing he had missed a piece of gossip during the spiritual energy rewards, he wouldn’t have bothered coming.

He could have been at home enjoying a couple more goose wings instead.

Lu Yang:

“Then why did you come?”

Before Lu Yang finished his question, Bai Kaiji brushed past his shoulder happily and hurried to Shen Weimu’s side.

“Did you hear about that legend? Seeing we’re short-handed at the Dali Temple, you came to help?”

Bai Kaiji smiled as he steadied Shen Weimu.

“Young Master Shen is too kind, but really, you don’t need to be here. Your body needs plenty of rest.”

Shen Weimu smiled faintly in agreement.

“Careful, there’s a threshold here—it’s quite high.”

Bai Kaiji thoughtfully warned.

Lu Yang:

Song Qiyun:

“What a big traitor!”

After Shen Weimu smiled politely in thanks, he coughed into his handkerchief as he entered the main hall of the Red Sleeve Pavilion, then used the handkerchief to cover his nose as well.

A faint stench of urine lingered in the air.

Suspended above the main hall hung a section of cut red silk.

Li Hongxiu’s corpse lay on the floor.

There were two hanging marks of differing intensity around her neck, her face pale, saliva and nasal mucus flowing from her mouth and nose, tongue protruding past her teeth, and she had lost control of her bladder—all signs consistent with death by hanging.

“Why does she have two hanging marks on her neck?”

Bai Kaiji asked, puzzled.

Wei Chi Feng replied,

“Many mistakenly think two marks on the neck mean homicide, but that’s not necessarily true. If the noose slides during hanging, a single rope can leave two marks of different depths.”

From the northern side of the hall, quiet sobbing occasionally drifted in.

Seventeen or eighteen young women, dressed in various colorful garments, cried with their faces partially hidden behind handkerchiefs.

Among them was a woman wearing a peony-and-butterfly pink skirt who was the most beautiful.

Shen Weimu’s gaze lingered inch by inch on this woman.

His obvious staring drew Lu Yang’s ridicule.

“Didn’t expect Young Master Shen had a taste for this sort of thing,”

Lu Yang remarked with a sigh.

“I thought with your looks, you wouldn’t be interested in anyone less attractive than yourself.”

“You’re right,”

Shen Weimu said.

Lu Yang opened his mouth to continue mocking, then suddenly realized Shen Weimu had just agreed with him.

“You weren’t really interested in her, were you? Why did you look at her so long then?”

“Qian Zhiyong grows mushrooms, Su Nan grows mushrooms, Li Hongxiu also grows mushrooms…”

Shen Weimu trailed off,

“Let’s see if this Winter Spirit girl has the same hobby.”

Lu Yang was surprised.

He hadn’t even said the girl was Winter Spirit.

“You know her already?”

“The courtesan queen is naturally the best dressed and most elegant. Look at the embroidered pouch on her waist—you don’t find it familiar?”

Lu Yang snorted lightly, unimpressed.

“What’s so familiar about it? Just a common embroidered pouch with birds.”

Song Qiyun happened to be passing by, cast a glance toward Winter Spirit, and his expression suddenly changed.

He immediately ordered someone to bring Winter Spirit over.

“You’ve got some talent for investigating after all.”

Song Qiyun said to Shen Weimu.

After the body was taken away, the windows of the hall were opened for ventilation and the stench dissipated.

Shen Weimu’s right hand slowly slipped into the left sleeve.

Song Qiyun thought Shen Weimu was about to reveal some secret and patiently waited.

Shen Weimu pulled out a package wrapped in oiled paper, opened it, and took out a brown-red braised goose wing, putting it into his mouth.

Song Qiyun:

After Winter Spirit paid respects to Song Qiyun, she asked,

“May I ask when my sisters and I may claim the madam’s body to lay her to rest?”

Winter Spirit’s voice was soft, melodious, and enchanting—any man hearing it would feel his bones turn to jelly.

Unfortunately, none of the three men before her understood romance, especially one who didn’t even spare her a glance, focusing solely on eating in such a setting.

“May I see it?”

Song Qiyun requested the embroidered pouch.

Winter Spirit hesitated, then pressed her hand over the pouch.

“Please forgive me, Song Shaoqing. A woman’s personal belongings are not convenient to be shown to others.”

“Not convenient?”

Lu Yang sneered.

“Isn’t that a blatant lie? You’re a courtesan—”

Shen Weimu gracefully spat out a partly chewed goose bone and interrupted Lu Yang with a casual tone.

“I heard Miss Winter Spirit dislikes men, so you like women?”

“Who told you that? Nonsense!”

The soft melodious voice disappeared, suddenly becoming sharp.

Song Qiyun and Lu Yang both keenly noticed Winter Spirit’s loss of composure.

Anyone experienced in investigations knows this is a sign of guilt.

Winter Spirit realized her slip, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at Song Qiyun pitifully.

“The thing I hate most in life is being falsely accused. I just lost my composure—please forgive me, Song Shaoqing.”

“Su Nan is dead. Her body is now in the county office’s morgue.”

Shen Weimu stated concisely.

Winter Spirit’s eyes widened in disbelief, shaking her head repeatedly.

“No, that’s impossible.”

“She’s indeed dead. If you don’t believe it, I can take you to see her corpse at the county office now,”

Song Qiyun said.

“She carried an embroidered pouch matching yours, and they were found together. It should be the Mandarin Duck Motif, right?”

“How could this be!”

Tears streamed down Winter Spirit’s cheeks.

Her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the ground, crying pitifully.

Song Qiyun examined Winter Spirit’s embroidered pouch, finding only ordinary incense inside, not a handful of soil.

He couldn’t help but look at Shen Weimu, who had dropped those two sentences and then ignored the matter, leaning by the window focused on eating braised goose wings.

Regarding Su Nan’s cross-dressing, Winter Spirit’s account was identical.

They had been neighbors in childhood, both poor.

They were separated during a famine and later reunited in the capital—one as a courtesan, the other as a cross-dressing Dali Temple clerk.

“This embroidered pouch was a gift from me to her. I don’t like men because of this profession—I’ve had enough of disgusting, foul men like you. But the Mandarin Duck Motif isn’t what you think; it’s just a token exchanged between close sisters and friends. The madam wouldn’t even give us good embroidery thread if it weren’t for that pattern. As for the mushroom growing and why the madam committed suicide, I have no idea.”

Winter Spirit was heartbroken, her eyes vacant and lifeless, looking utterly soulless—not like someone lying.

After entrusting the follow-up to his subordinates, Song Qiyun paced over to Shen Weimu’s side, noticing from the angle by the east window he could observe the full spectrum of the hall’s scenes.

He could especially see the crying girls inside the building—most of them were faking their sobs, merely covering the corners of their eyes with handkerchiefs.

“Looks like Li Hongxiu didn’t treat them kindly.”

Shen Weimu didn’t pause eating the goose wings.

The aroma of the braised wings filled the air, causing Song Qiyun’s mouth to water involuntarily; he had to control himself.

“What’s your take on this case?”

Shen Weimu finally turned to Song Qiyun.

“You’re asking me?”

“I see you’re quite interested in this case; otherwise, why would you occasionally leak information to us?”

Song Qiyun had thought it through carefully.

Without Shen Weimu’s information, they wouldn’t have gotten this far.

Perhaps the clues he revealed were too close to the truth, which is why so many people died.

“I won’t offer any unnecessary opinions.”

Shen Weimu had no habit of meddling.

Every living being has its destined path—why waste effort troubling oneself?

“When we return to the capital, I’ll treat you to three unforgettable meals.”

Shen Weimu wiped his hands with a handkerchief and said to Song Qiyun,

“Have you considered that ‘mushroom growing’ might be literal? Tang County’s soil is perfect for cultivating mushrooms.”

Song Qiyun was stunned and straightened up.

Something in his eyes suddenly brightened.

The huge stone blocking the flood of his thoughts was swept away by those words.

No wonder the white threads in the pouch’s soil felt familiar.

Now he remembered—once as a child he had gone to the mountains to pick mushrooms.

Those white threads were residues left in the soil after harvesting mushrooms.

“But if it were just simple mushroom cultivation, it wouldn’t cause so many deaths or attempts to silence witnesses. Behind this mushroom business must be a huge profit or conspiracy.”

“Mushrooms are a curious thing—edible ones are delicious and addictive; poisonous ones can also taste good, sometimes causing hallucinations or even death. But even if the suicides were caused by hallucinogenic poisonous mushrooms, people experiencing hallucinations wouldn’t be lucid enough to consciously commit suicide at the suicide forest in such numbers.”

“Also, Li Hongxiu’s hanging is strange. Witnesses say she left her room and deliberately killed herself in front of everyone. There was also red silk hanging in her room—why didn’t she hang herself there instead, choosing such a public spectacle?”

Though many questions remained, Song Qiyun’s thoughts grew clearer.

He and Shen Weimu exchanged quick thanks, then immediately led Bai Kaiji and the others to continue the investigation.

Shen Weimu, who had earned three exquisite meals with just a few words, leisurely exited the Red Sleeve Pavilion, pulled out another paper package from his sleeve, and began eating sesame candy.

Suddenly, a sharp knife pressed against Shen Weimu’s waist.

A hoarse male voice came from behind.

“Don’t turn around. Come with me.”