Chapter Thirty-Four: Murder

“What’s happened to my grandson?!”

Suddenly, Prefect Wang’s trembling voice echoed from outside the door.

“Master, please don’t worry. With Physician Wen here, all will be well!”

Leaning heavily on his cane, Prefect Wang hurried inside, his face etched with anxiety. He rushed to the wooden cradle, gently scooping up little Feng’s tiny body in his shaking arms. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Lady Wen, can my grandson still be saved?” Cradling the child, Prefect Wang looked with desperate hope at Wen Qiniang.

Wen Qiniang hesitated, her mouth opening but no words emerging. She simply could not speak the truth aloud—as soon as rigor mortis and livor mortis appeared, death was already certain. She was a coroner, not a miracle worker. Even Lin Bai himself could not bring the dead back to life. Had they discovered it a few hours sooner, there might have been a chance…

Seeing Wen Qiniang’s reluctance, Prefect Wang’s gaze dimmed instantly.

“Who did this to my grandson?! Was it you?” Suddenly he seized Wang Fu by the collar, his eyes bloodshot as he roared.

“Master, I swear I’m innocent! How could I dare commit such a monstrous crime?” Wang Fu fell to his knees in terror.

“Or was it you?!”

“Master, I beg you, I wouldn’t dare even if I had a thousand lives!” Wang Lu likewise dropped to his knees in fright.

Prefect Wang glared at everyone in the room, as if searching their faces for guilt.

No one dared meet his gaze; all lowered their heads, afraid to look upon his madness.

“It must be you—the new servant!”

Prefect Wang suddenly raised his cane and swung it at Ji Changge.

Everyone gasped in shock. That cane was about to strike the Young Lord of Ning directly on the head, yet Ji Changge stood still, neither ducking nor flinching, as if he hadn’t even noticed the prefect’s presence.

Just as the cane’s wind brushed the young lord’s hair and everyone’s eyes squeezed shut, a gloved hand shot out and caught the cane mid-air, as easily as if it were a mere twig.

For a few stunned seconds, no one moved. Then they realized that it was Uncle Quan, the stooped old man behind Ji Changge, who had intercepted the blow. The servants exchanged bewildered glances—none had seen how Uncle Quan managed to move so quickly.

“You wretched servant, let go—”

Prefect Wang’s words broke off as he fainted dead away. Uncle Quan caught him as he collapsed.

“Prefect Wang will be fine,” Ji Changge said to the servants, “Uncle Quan has merely pressed his sleep acupoint. The shock was too much for him. Take him away and look after him.”

Wang Fu and the others carried Prefect Wang from the room.

Uncle Quan removed his gloves, folded them, and stepped quietly back behind Ji Changge, once again blending into the background as the unobtrusive, hunched old man.

Wen Qiniang glanced at Uncle Quan, understanding at last: this seemingly invisible old servant was the true master of martial skill. No wonder the Young Lord of Ning dared travel without a single guard—having Uncle Quan alone was enough.

“You all may leave as well,” Ji Changge said, waving the remaining servants away.

Once everyone had gone, Uncle Quan closed the door behind him, leaving only Wen Qiniang and Ji Changge in the room.

“Lady Wen, please,” Ji Changge said, turning to her.

She donned her gloves and removed the clothes from He-shi’s body, beginning a thorough examination from the start.

Rigor mortis was just beginning to set in at the jaw, and faint livor mortis had appeared on the back. This indicated that death had occurred more than two but less than four hours ago.

“The time of death was about an hour ago. The cause is poisoning,” Wen Qiniang stated.

She pressed gently on He-shi’s skull, feeling a distinct grating of bone. “There’s trauma here—mild skull fracture. This injury was inflicted while she was still alive.”

“Was she pushed by someone, or did she fall herself?” Ji Changge asked.

Wen Qiniang’s gaze lingered on the bruises on both of He-shi’s shoulders. She turned the body over: abrasions and bruises marred the back as well. If she had fallen by herself, her back might be injured, but not both shoulders, unless she had tumbled from a height—but then, her whole body would show abrasions, not just the back and shoulders, and not so lightly.

“Grab my shoulders,” Wen Qiniang said, turning to Ji Changge.

Ji Changge hesitated, then gently placed his hands on her narrow shoulders… so slight, so fragile.

“Push me against the wall,” Wen Qiniang continued.

Ji Changge complied, gently pushing her back to the wall, his body inclining forward. The space between them narrowed. Looking at her calm, gentle face up close, he hated himself for the pain he’d caused her in the past. Perhaps, in this life, she would never forgive him…

Wen Qiniang’s mind was a blank. She could feel Ji Changge’s warm breath, her body stiffening uncontrollably as she lowered her eyes. Her heart thundered in her chest. After all, this was not her body—the real Wen Qiniang had once known everything about the Young Lord of Ning…

Sensing her faint tremble, Ji Changge’s eyes filled with tenderness. He suddenly wanted to draw this delicate body into his arms and warm her gently.

“He-shi… was pushed against the wall like this…” Wen Qiniang said woodenly.

“What?” Ji Changge asked, half-dazed.

Wen Qiniang pushed his arm aside and walked to He-shi’s body. “Look at the bruises on her shoulders—they were caused by someone grabbing her hard. The abrasion on her back is from being slammed into the wall, and the wound on the back of her head was likewise caused by impact. She was struck more than once.”

So that was it… A fleeting disappointment flashed in Ji Changge’s eyes, then vanished. She had only wanted to reenact the scene—he had read too much into it.

“It seems the killer failed to kill her the first time, then resorted to poison to murder both He-shi and little Feng. What hatred could drive someone to such lengths, wishing mother and son dead? And how does this connect to the Wang Junfu case?”

Wen Qiniang removed her gloves. “My task is only to report what I see. As for the investigation—that’s up to you and the Court of Justice.”

Ji Changge pondered a while. “At dawn, I’ll have Uncle Quan escort you back to Hanjiang County.”

Wen Qiniang started, her lips parting as if to speak, but in the end she only nodded silently.

The room fell oppressively silent—two living, two dead.

Ji Changge quietly left the room. The bodies of He-shi and little Feng still needed to be laid to rest.

…

The next day.

Wen Qiniang had not slept all night. Early in the morning, she stepped outside and found Ji Changge looking just as weary.

“Uncle Quan, escort Lady Wen back to Hanjiang County. Go swiftly and return the same,” Ji Changge said, his voice rough.

Uncle Quan did not move, only stared blankly into the distance.

Ji Changge’s brows drew together. “Must I repeat myself?”

Uncle Quan nodded, looked at Wen Qiniang, and simply said, “Let’s go.”

As the carriage rolled farther away, Ji Changge’s face grew colder and colder. To kill under his very nose—did they take him for a corpse himself?