Bai Kaiji was assigned to ride in the same carriage as Shen Weimu, tasked with keeping an eye on him to prevent any escape attempts.
But to be honest, seeing the young man cough every three steps and spit blood every five, Bai Kaiji was more worried he’d run out of breath and die halfway through the journey than worried about him running away.
Shen Weimu discarded the bloodstained handkerchief and accepted a fresh one from his attendant, holding it ready in his hand.
Bai Kaiji’s gaze fell on Shen Weimu’s hand.
Pale, slender, and delicate, it was like a painting by a master artist, impossible not to admire.
Bai Kaiji marveled at how drastically people’s appearances differed—Heaven was clearly too fond of this boy, not even willing to let his hands look a little ugly.
Bai Kaiji softly asked Shen Weimu,
“Little brother, what illness do you have?”
“Just a minor one,”
Shen Weimu said after taking a sip of Pear Nectar to soothe his throat.
“It’s healing.”
“Really? Then I wish you a speedy recovery.”
Bai Kaiji offered a doubtful blessing.
“Thanks.”
On the sandalwood tea table inside the carriage were a dozen bamboo tubes, each labeled with the name of a sweet water:
Sweet Bean Soup, Pear Nectar, Ophiopogon Water, Perilla Water, Pickled Plum Water, and so on.
An empty tea cup was placed in front of Bai Kaiji.
Shen Weimu generously invited him to help himself—take whichever one he liked.
Bai Kaiji thanked him but shook his head.
The government had regulations; he wasn’t allowed to casually consume anything given by suspects.
Shen Weimu ignored him and sampled each sweet water in turn.
Pear Nectar had a faint pear aroma with a lightly sweet taste.
Sweet Bean Soup was warm with a strong bean fragrance and sweeter than the Pear Nectar.
Perilla Water had an indescribable scent—like medicine but not quite—and though sweet waters often left one’s throat sticky, this one was refreshingly thirst-quenching.
Pickled Plum Water was tangy and sweet, awakening the palate and cutting through greasiness.
Paired with morning Crab Meat Soup Buns, it would be perfect.
Before Shen Weimu finished tasting all the sweet waters, they were told the Dali Temple had arrived.
He instructed that all the unfinished drinks be taken along.
Song Qiyun had already ridden back earlier.
He had finished interrogating Pang Pin and Lady Liu, and was now sitting in the side hall awaiting Shen Weimu.
When Shen Weimu entered the hall, Song Qiyun’s gaze inevitably landed on the small attendant trailing behind him.
Clutching a bundle of bamboo tubes, staggering along like a pregnant woman with twins.
Song Qiyun’s face darkened.
“Who’s this?”
Bai Kaiji quickly explained,
“Young Master Shen is frail and coughs constantly. He needs to drink something to soothe his throat.”
Song Qiyun said,
“So many bamboo tubes? Are you sure it’s just to soothe his throat?”
But the fact was, Shen Weimu was coughing blood.
The Dali Temple couldn’t be too harsh on him.
After inviting Shen Weimu to sit, Bai Kaiji leaned close to Song Qiyun and whispered,
“I don’t think Young Master Shen is the culprit. He’s too weak. On this trip, whenever the carriage sped up even a little, he coughed blood—six times in total. I’m honestly afraid he’ll die in front of me!”
While Bai Kaiji whispered, Song Qiyun noticed the young man had already drunk from one bamboo tube of sweet water.
If his body was really that frail, could he drink so much?
It couldn’t be ruled out that Shen Weimu’s coughing up blood was some kind of act, meant to intimidate.
Song Qiyun immediately ordered Yuchi Feng to take his pulse.
He wanted to see if the boy’s spitting blood was genuine or a performance.
After Yuchi Feng took his pulse, the room was silent enough to hear a pin drop.
Bai Kaiji craned his neck, eagerly watching Yuchi Feng’s expression.
Yuchi Feng’s face changed from calm at first to serious, then deeply furrowed his brow.
After a long while, he asked Shen Weimu to switch hands.
It was well known that Yuchi Feng only changed hands when diagnosing difficult cases.
Originally absorbed in thinking about the case, Song Qiyun looked up at this.
After another moment, Yuchi Feng finally dismissed all doubt and confirmed he had not made a mistake, then withdrew his hand.
“It’s Scattered Pulse. The pulse lacks spirit, not a trace of vitality.”
Bai Kaiji hurriedly asked,
“What does that mean?”
“It means his qi and blood are dying out, his essence is fading, and he could die at any moment.”
Yuchi Feng’s gaze fell on Shen Weimu with pity.
“Young Master Shen, do you know you have a rare poison in your body, damaged heart vessels, and failing five organs?”
“Cough, cough… it’s not that serious.”
After coughing, Shen Weimu’s lips grew paler, almost colorless.
When he smiled faintly in response, it was strangely heart-wrenching, inspiring admiration for his strength and calm demeanor.
Bai Kaiji sprang up and promised Song Qiyun,
“Young Master Shen definitely isn’t the murderer! He’s this sick—how could he have killed anyone? When I asked him about his illness in the carriage, he was worried I’d be troubled, so he said it was ‘a minor illness, healing now.’ Someone so kindhearted even about small matters, comforting others, how could he be the culprit?”
Yuchi Feng nodded as well.
Given Shen Weimu’s condition, he wouldn’t even be able to draw a bow properly, let alone shoot arrows to kill.
Shen Weimu gave a helpless smile and nodded in agreement.
He really wasn’t the culprit, and for him, this condition was indeed a minor illness, currently healing.
One day earlier, after fainting, Shen Weimu had discovered that the Bagua clue interface he carried was filled with abundant spiritual energy.
Like an NPC task in a detective game from his previous life, he only needed to complete the Bagua clue tasks provided by the interface to earn spiritual energy rewards, repairing his broken soul and body.
Just after providing the Bagua clues, a trace of spiritual energy circulated within him, mending his most severely damaged five organs.
The blood he frequently coughed up was poison and useless stasis forced out during the repair process.
Song Qiyun didn’t believe a weak, dying person lacked the ability to kill, nor that a murderer must always act with their own hands.
Shen Ersan was well-dressed and skilled with horses; he certainly had the means to hire killers.
But his motive to kill was insufficient, and his presence at the crime scene was baffling in both reason and timing.
Who would normally discuss such private matters with a close friend before going home to catch a cheating spouse?
Did he really misunderstand the bonds of friendship?
“Will the case be solved today?”
Shen Weimu asked.
“Almost.”
Song Qiyun answered instinctively, then asked,
“Why the sudden question?”
Shen Weimu said,
“I want to go home early to eat Red Braised Pork.”
Song Qiyun thought, He shouldn’t have asked him that.
Next, Shen Weimu sat at the lower left seat, cradling a cup of Ophiopogon Water, quietly observing Song Qiyun’s investigation.
He sipped leisurely, like an honored guest invited to listen in.
Song Qiyun was at a loss.
He couldn’t exactly reprimand a coughing, dying, sickly boy.
He focused on handling the case and sent Bai Kaiji and others to run errands.
Half an hour later, Lu Yang burst in excitedly, carrying a bundle of arrows.
“Pang Pin confessed, and all the remaining arrows have been found, hidden in an abandoned stove pit in his house! That guy is bold, secretly making weapons. The City God Temple was the prearranged trade location with buyers. He’s been doing this secretly for two years, selling to those outlaws on the run.”
“He refused to admit to seeing the arrows before because he feared being charged with illegal weapon manufacturing. After learning these arrows killed his mother and younger brother, he wouldn’t admit it at all.”
Yuchi Feng compared these arrows to the one that killed Zhang’s family.
“The wood is the same, workmanship identical, the only difference is this arrow lacks tail feathers, and the shaft is rougher.”
“Please, Lords, have mercy! I made these arrows, but I’m innocent! My younger brother and mother’s deaths truly have nothing to do with me!”
Pang Pin wept and kowtowed, begging for mercy.
Song Qiyun ignored Pang Pin’s pleas and reviewed the Corpse Record submitted by Yuchi Feng after a second autopsy.
The abrasions and bruises on Pang Sheng’s back of the head and limbs matched a backward fall.
Zhang’s shoes were dirty at the toe with wear marks.
The shoes were almost new, worn only three days, so the wear indicated he likely stumbled and fell last night.
“The origin of the sweat towel has been discovered!”
Bai Kaiji brought Chang Pozi into the hall, ordering her to confess truthfully.
Chang Pozi knelt, protesting her innocence.
“This humble woman didn’t kill anyone. I did nothing!”
“My son went with the merchant caravan south and hasn’t returned in three years. A few days ago the house got damp, so I took out his old clothes to air them. Aunt Zhang came by at noon and asked me to help drive away her youngest daughter-in-law.”
“I’m slow-witted, with no good ideas. Unexpectedly, she saw the blue sweat towel hanging in my yard and snatched it away, forbidding me from telling outsiders.”
The constables had already learned from the scribe that two days ago, Zhang had entrusted him to write a letter, which indeed informed the second son, Pang Sheng, that his wife was cheating—the blue sweat towel was proof of her affair.
It seemed Zhang had long been unhappy with Lady Liu.
But Liu had served her deceased father-in-law faithfully and had a good reputation.
To drive Lady Liu away without tarnishing her son’s reputation, Zhang resorted to falsely accusing Liu of infidelity.
The suspicion of an adulterous lover killing was ruled out, leaving the largest possibility remaining.
Song Qiyun asked Pang Pin to recall in detail what he did yesterday evening, especially before dinner in the backyard.
After a moment’s thought, Pang Pin honestly said,
“Yesterday evening, I was making arrows in the backyard, inserting the arrow tails into a crevice of the north wall’s main beam. While polishing the shafts, my wife called me to eat. After dinner and a bit of wine, I felt tired and went straight to sleep.”
“So you forgot that one arrow was still stuck in the crevice, right?”
Pang Pin was stunned and nodded.
“Then the case is clear,”
Song Qiyun said.
Pang Pin was agitated.
“Sir, who exactly killed my younger brother and mother?”
“It was your—”
Pang Pin’s expression changed to shock.
He hurriedly shook his head, insisting it wasn’t him.
“Arrow,”
Song Qiyun clarified,
“To be precise, it was an accident.”
Pang Pin didn’t understand and begged Song Qiyun to explain clearly.
Bai Kaiji and the others were equally puzzled and asked Song Qiyun to detail the case.
“Yesterday, Zhang sent a letter to the academy and misled Pang Sheng using the blue sweat towel taken from Chang Pozi, causing the second son to return home that day.”
“Perhaps Pang Sheng was half doubtful of Zhang’s words, so last night he quietly hid atop the north wall behind the house, intending to catch the affair.”
“It was late and dark. Pang Sheng either slipped or was startled by thunder, causing him to lose footing and fall into the courtyard, where the arrow left in the wood crevice by Pang Pin pierced his throat.”
“Pang Pin was usually careless with his carpentry, often forgetting unfinished furniture. Last night’s sudden heavy rain likely prompted Zhang to gather the unfinished pieces into the shed, where she discovered Pang Sheng’s corpse. Shocked, she lost control, slipped on the wet ground, and fell, landing on Pang Sheng and getting pierced in the chest by the sharp arrowhead.”
“No—”
Pang Pin buried his head in his hands, crying bitterly, unable to accept the outcome.
“How could it be like this? An accident caused by my arrow… mother, younger brother…”
All the details fit: the deaths of Zhang and her son were accidental.
After writing “Case Closed” on the record, Yuchi Feng put down his pen and sighed.
A plot born of nothing resulted in a chain of unfortunate coincidences, harming others and ultimately oneself.
As everyone sighed, Shen Weimu, now full from drinking sweet water, stood and excused himself.
Song Qiyun watched him with complex eyes.
This time, he had “wronged” the boy; the youth had only offered clues out of goodwill.
“In a hurry to go home and eat Red Braised Pork?”
Shen Weimu smiled faintly.
“I won’t bother you further.”
“I’ll see you out!”
Bai Kaiji rose eagerly and followed Shen Weimu.
Yuchi Feng still had doubts and asked Song Qiyun,
“One thing I don’t understand: Lady Liu’s quarters were closest to the backyard. The accident last night must have caused a commotion. Did she really not hear anything?”
Song Qiyun’s gaze followed the young man’s departing figure.
In a flat tone, he answered Yuchi Feng,
“She definitely didn’t. If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself.”
Yuchi Feng did call Lady Liu in and asked.
Lowering her eyes and timidly, she gave the most definite answer,
“Master Yuchi, I didn’t.”