Chapter 135: A Pawn in the Game

After completing all the dissections and recordings, Wu Wei employed her exquisite technique to extract the piece of skull bearing the needle hole from the deceased as evidence for the court. She then asked Prince Yi for needle, thread, and stuffing material. With these, she filled the deceased’s cranium, sewed it neatly, and preserved the remains’ dignity as best she could. When the time came to place the body in the coffin, a simple adjustment to the pillow’s height would conceal any trace of the work.

Wu Wei washed her hands and presented the Coroner’s Handbook to Prince Yi, saying respectfully, “Your Highness, please have a look.”

Prince Yi examined the handbook carefully. He thought to himself: Dongfang Rui hadn’t exaggerated. The notes were methodical and well-reasoned, filled with Wu Wei’s impartial and expert assessments. Her handwriting left something to be desired… but purely in terms of articulation, she could serve as a competent secretary.

“Not bad. This prince will have someone escort you back right away.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Guards!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than two guards strode briskly into the main hall and cupped their hands toward Prince Yi. “Your Highness.”

“Go to the accounts office, withdraw twenty taels of silver for her, and see her home.”

“Yes!”

Wu Wei raised a hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. She thought: This Prince Yi is generous—far more than the pittance from the county yamen.

After thanking Prince Yi once more, Wu Wei followed the guard out of the small courtyard. Halfway along the path, the two guards parted ways: one headed to the accounts office to fetch the silver, while the other led Wu Wei toward the back gate.

Free of the anxiety that had gripped her on the way in, Wu Wei began taking in the sights of Prince Yi’s Mansion.

Ponds, bamboo groves, rockeries, gardens—it had it all. Gazing eastward from her vantage point, Wu Wei could make out the tallest structure on the mansion’s central axis, its upturned eaves adorned with stone-carved guardian beasts. The surrounding buildings radiated outward from this centerpiece.

Prince Yi’s Mansion wasn’t ostentatiously lavish, but it was meticulously crafted. Screen walls, stone lions, and wards against malign influences—all were present in abundance. The servants numbered fewer than Wu Wei had expected; perhaps Prince Yi had dismissed them ahead of time, she mused.

Wu Wei waited a moment in the carriage until the guard handed her a wooden box containing the silver. Only then did the carriage lurch into motion.

She opened the box and peered inside: twenty neat ingots of sparkling snow silver, each worth one tael.

…

Once Wu Wei had departed and even the echo of her footsteps faded away, Prince Yi rose and approached the wall adorned with a landscape painting. He twisted the scroll’s axis, and with a sharp click, the seamless surface sprang open, revealing the outline of a hidden door.

“Come on out. Not feeling stifled in there?” Prince Yi teased.

The hidden door swung inward, pushed from within, and out stepped Dongfang Rui—the woman whose face adorned wanted posters across the realm, yet who remained a ghost in the wind.

Prince Yi handed her the meticulously cleaned skull along with the Coroner’s Handbook. “The person you recommended is impressive,” he praised. “She cleared up a nagging doubt that’s troubled this prince for months.”

Dongfang Rui lifted the skull and inspected the needle hole, sighing. “I had intended to temper her a few more years before assigning her real responsibility. No one matches her skill at examining corpses.”

“Indeed. Quite… unique. This prince has never seen anyone take a blade to a body without so much as flinching. Come—we’ll discuss this in the study.”

“After you, Your Highness.”

…

Dongfang Rui and Prince Yi made their way to the study in the small courtyard. Since Dongfang Rui had taken up residence there, Prince Yi had declared the area off-limits to all but a single deaf-mute maid who could neither speak nor write—ensuring utter seclusion.

Dongfang Rui gestured for Prince Yi to take the seat of honor, but as always, he dragged over a stool and sat on his own terms. She didn’t press the point and settled candidly behind the desk.

“Have you encountered this hidden weapon technique before?” Prince Yi cut straight to the chase.

“I’ve never seen its like in my life,” Dongfang Rui replied.

She picked up the skull again, her tone laced with disbelief as she continued. “Piercing bone this thick with a single needle is challenging even holding a long one by hand—let alone with a concealed projectile. Had Wu Wei not removed this skull, the evidence laid bare before us, who would have believed it?”

“Precisely. No one masters such a technique without a decade or more of relentless practice.”

Dongfang Rui narrowed her eyes and fell silent for a moment before speaking again. “Does Your Highness recall the murder at Pear Flower Tower in the capital five years ago? The killer remains at large.”

“Which one? Ah—you mean the case of the former Vice Minister of Justice’ second son, the one who died in Pear Flower Tower?”

“Exactly. Guests inside Pear Flower Tower that day said the young master collapsed in convulsions and perished. Just before, he had outbid the field to spend the night with the flower queen and fell on his way up to the second floor.”

“Yes, I’m familiar.”

“Bright Mirror Division and the Ministry of Justice handled the joint investigation. We found poison in the young master’s body, and with no visible wounds and his death in plain view, we ruled it poisoning. Yet when I later tested every drop of wine and morsel of food in Pear Flower Tower, not a trace of toxin turned up. None of the other patrons fell ill either. Your Highness… doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Very odd indeed. This poison seals the throat on contact with blood, slaying without a trace. By the selection of the flower queen’s companion—at least midnight—the deed was long done; it couldn’t have been administered at dawn. Do you suspect a cunning hidden weapon delivered a poisoned dart into his body?”

Dongfang Rui nodded. “The old minister doted on his youngest son and ordered every guest that night dragged to the Ministry’s Heavenly Prison for interrogation. Yet three eluded us, even after turning the capital upside down. One was the most aggressive rival bidder. Upon closer questioning of the witnesses, those three spoke no dialect of the official tongue. My investigation confirmed they were merchants from the Fusang Kingdom who weighed anchor and fled by sea shortly after.”

“This prince has heard Fusang folk excel with hidden weapons and train orphans into loyal retainers. Do you suspect collusion within the court and Fusang?”

Dongfang Rui chose her words with care. “It may not be so grave as Your Highness fears. Perhaps they merely crossed paths, and whispers of Fusang stirred some forbidden ambition.”

“The Import Office—the capital’s foremost hub for dealing with Fusang traders!” Prince Yi’s brows knitted tight, his eyes burning with intensity.

Dongfang Rui lapsed into prolonged silence before murmuring, “That day, the Fourth Prince lay drunk beneath the Begonia Tree. As the Crown Prince and I drew near, he jolted awake in alarm, then flew into a frenzy and lunged at the Crown Prince…” Pain and regret flickered across her face. Her lips worked soundlessly several times before resolving into a heavy sigh.

Prince Yi pressed on without mercy for her discomfort. “Even The Jade-Faced Divine Strategist can find herself played for a fool. Consider who hosted that banquet—even this prince’s ornamental curved blade was confiscated. How did Old Four come by a short sword? Its source? Who supplied it—and who emboldened him to strike at the heir apparent right before your eyes? Had this prince not been close at hand by sheer fortune, you’d share the fate of Bright Mirror Division’s remnants.”

Dongfang Rui leaned wearily on her hand, her defiant neck and haughty head bowing at the mere mention of “Bright Mirror Division.”

It was in that moment of horrified realization, as Dongfang Rui fled the trap, that Prince Yi burst forth, seized her, and concealed her within a hidden compartment of his mansion’s carriage.

Only after clearing the estate did she learn from his lips that the Fourth Prince lay dead, her personal dagger plunged into his chest.

Dongfang Rui spoke once more. “I’ve pored over nearly every medical text these past days, yet found no formula pairing with begonia flower pollen to drive one mad. The recipe may hail from Fusang…”

Prince Yi clapped her shoulder. “Some matters this prince must verify in person. Put it from your mind and rest.”

…

Meanwhile, Wu Wei returned to the inn with her silver, bathed, ordered food from the waiter, and turned in for the night.

On the day appointed with the pawnbroker, Wu Wei set out early and lingered by the pawnshop door until the hour approached before stepping inside. The pawnbroker emerged from the back room, spotted her, and waved her along to leave together.

Chen’s Rice Shop lay just three streets from the pawnshop.

The premises selected for Zhang Shuisheng had once been an oil pressing workshop—a single-story affair, but with a spacious courtyard out back containing several granaries and a woodshed. Its chief merit: adjacency to the rice shop.

Wu Wei nodded in understanding after the pawnbroker’s rundown. No one with a shred of business sense would situate rival shops side by side.

“It’s only one story, true, but priced affordably at sixty taels,” the pawnbroker explained. “The rear granaries and woodshed come gratis, along with half a storage each of beans and rapeseeds—the previous owner left them for the new proprietor. Hire some hands, erect a second story; between timber and labor, forty taels ought to cover it. This way, Miss Wu.”

Wu Wei and the pawnbroker halted before Chen’s Rice Shop. Right beside it stood the oil pressing workshop in question, its facade bearing a red-paper notice proclaiming “Auspicious Premises for Sale.”

The former owner of the rice shop was already waiting. The pawnshop manager introduced the two parties to each other. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the rice shop owner produced the deed he had prepared in advance—three copies in total. Each side kept one, and the third would be deposited with the yamen.

The pawnshop owner signed on as witness, stamping his seal. With the deed finalized, Wu Wei carefully tucked away her copy. She had secured the shop for Zhang Shuisheng and asked the pawnshop owner to make contact on her behalf, arranging for Zhang Shuisheng to come sign it in a few days.

Back at the inn, Wu Wei checked out of her room. She asked the waiter about the mule-horse market in Taizhou City and led Chou Chou off in that direction.

The mule-horse market typically opened at night and dispersed at dawn. Wu Wei waited until nearly dark, when traders began trickling in with their livestock.

Only after the lamps were lit and the market officially opened did she spot a few carters pulling their carriages up to the entrance.

Wu Wei approached one who looked amiable. “Brother,” she asked, “in a few days, I need to take a long trip. What’s the rate to rent a carriage?”

In the Liang Dynasty, the custom for hiring a carriage was to take the carter along with it. Horses and carts were not cheap, and it was rare to rent one without the driver.

The carter gave Wu Wei an appraising look. “How far? Hauling people or goods? How many in your group?”

“About five hundred li,” she replied. “No cargo—just some personal luggage. Four of us altogether.” In the end, Wu Wei couldn’t bear to part with the Embroider Maiden. She wanted to take her along for the journey. Worst case, she could ask Second Lady Liu to look after the Old Madam.

She had overheard the two shop managers chatting while signing the deed. The rice shop owner had mentioned hiring a carriage to head straight home afterward. That gave Wu Wei the idea of renting one herself. This way, the Embroider Maiden wouldn’t have to endure a bumpy ride on horseback.

“Five taels of silver per hundred li,” the carter quoted. “Covers two people. Add one tael for each extra passenger. If you take my cart for the return trip, it’s half price. Otherwise, it’s another five taels for the empty run back.”

Wu Wei winced at the price. They wouldn’t need the return fare, of course. Even so, this one way would cost her forty taels—enough to buy Chou Chou outright!