Chapter 27#

Clues: Little Pei’s Way of Getting Along#

After all, it was the month of May. The water on the road dried up overnight, leaving only scattered sand and mud.

The next day, Pei Xiting carried his painting box to work, wrapped in a sweltering heat as he arrived at the Document Tower, removed his shoes, and entered.

Lu Mang was at his desk in a thin shirt, writing furiously. Pei Xiting stepped forward lightly, and before he could greet his superior, the other said, “I’m currently doing your task.”

Pei Xiting said, “So?”

Lu Mang said, “Paint me a book slip, and your work for today will be done.”

This superior was quite flexible. Pei Xiting welcomed the offer and said, “Deal.”

As soon as he spoke, Lu Mang quickly picked up a book beside him, lifted his head, and handed it over. “This book is—”

Seeing Pei Xiting’s appearance, Lu Mang’s gaze froze. After a moment, he blinked, then exploded in righteous fury: “‘Ye Merchant Jade Beauty Ranking’? How are you only ranked ninth? There’s absolutely some rigging here! I’m going to the Bibo Pond to demand an explanation from the boss!”

The Jade Beauty Ranking—Pei Xiting remembered it being mentioned in the original novel. It was said that although “Pei Xiting” had an extremely beautiful face, he lacked spirit and was too dull, naturally falling short compared to those dazzling jades.

“Hold on,” Pei Xiting reached out to stop him, comforting, “The prince is ranked first, which shows this ranking still carries authority.”

Lu Mang disagreed and said, “That’s because no one dares to rig anything involving the prince. But with you, it’s different.”

“This thing is evaluated every year. Good intentions, Chief Clerk Lu, you can vote more for me during the year-end evaluation.” Pei Xiting said, “By the way, what does the chief clerk want me to paint?”

“Oh, it’s this book,” Lu Mang remembered the main task, picked up the book again, and handed it to Pei Xiting. “This is a book of flowers. It originally had a peony book slip, but I dropped it on the road when I came out of the library yesterday. Looking for a single book slip in the huge Eastern Palace is too troublesome, and even if I find it, it’s dirty and can’t be used anymore. His Highness’s books all have corresponding book slips chosen by him. I wouldn’t dare casually buy one from outside. I heard from Secretary You that His Highness rather likes your paintings, so I thought I’d ask you to paint one to replace it.”

Pei Xiting flipped through the book and asked, “Has His Highness agreed?”

“His Highness didn’t say no.” Lu Mang sat back down and gestured for Pei Xiting to sit at the desk opposite. “I’ve already prepared a plain slip for you.”

Pei Xiting put down his painting box and took a seat. He took out a sketchbook and drafted a few designs, none of which satisfied him. But then he thought of the jade-like Crown Prince and suddenly had an idea.

The hall was filled with the scent of herbal incense burned in May to ward off venomous insects, a faint bitterness in the air. Lu Mang worked busily for about half an hour before finally putting down his brush. He stood up, patting his lower back as he walked to the tea table, and asked, “Sweet flag wine, chrysanthemum tea, or coconut water? Which one?”

Pei Xiting said, “Coconut water, thank you.”

Lu Mang took a gourd from the ice chest and filled two celadon-and-white single-handled cups. He placed one on Pei Xiting’s desk. Seeing that he was almost done painting, he leaned in for a closer look. “A silhouette under a pomegranate tree… This silhouette looks a lot like His Highness. Have you been to the Eastern Palace?”

Pei Xiting said, “No.”

Lu Mang said, “Then how do you know there’s a pomegranate tree in front of the rear hall of Mingzheng Hall?”

“Coincidence,” Pei Xiting said. “In May, pomegranate flowers bloom as brilliantly as rosy clouds. Every time I see them, I’m drawn to stop and admire them. Since His Highness collects this flower handbook, he must also be someone who cherishes flowers. So I imagined myself in his place, picturing His Highness’s appearance beneath the tree.”

“I see.” Lu Mang looked at the slip. The leaves were emerald, the pomegranate flowers vibrant, matching perfectly with the prince in his flowing black robe. The colors were particularly rich and bright, like the May weather, passionate and unrestrained.

Pei Xiting set down his brush. Lu Mang asked, “Finished?”

Pei Xiting said, “I still need to sprinkle gold.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” You Zong stepped through the door, speaking succinctly. “Xining fifteenth year, ‘Jiangnan Wang Family Forty-Four Case.’”

Lu Mang said, “Got it,” and turned to dive into the towering shelves, quickly and neatly retrieving a document to present to You Zong. “Aren’t we investigating the Pishan Mountain matter? Why suddenly dig out this long-pending unsolved old case? Found new clues?”

“Indeed. That Wang San was indeed not the real Wang San. I’ve already sent people to search, but there’s still no response.” You Zong quickly flipped through the document. “Remember the mysterious employer who died on the eastern outskirts? We thought it was just a single throat cut. But today, when preparing to dispose of the body, I discovered another fatal wound on his heart—a plum blossom sleeve arrow.”

The coroner of the Crane Cage Division had returned to his hometown to care for his ailing elderly mother and was still on the road back to the capital. The Crane Cage Division’s cases couldn’t be entrusted to outside coroners, which was why it had taken these two days—until You Zong, after a meal, took a walk past the morgue and found this clue.

Lu Mang had an excellent memory. “If I remember correctly, the Jiangnan Wang family case also showed traces of plum blossom sleeve arrows—”

“Correct,” You Zong flipped a page of the document and thrust it at Lu Mang’s face. “Exactly the same.”

Lu Mang skillfully leaned back to avoid the thrust, taking a step back to clearly see the drawn plum blossom-shaped wound on the paper. He clapped his hands. “Find this person, and we not only get clues to who took the Poshilin but can also close this old case.”

“The question is, how to find him?” You Zong closed the document and handed it back to Lu Mang. “This plum blossom sleeve arrow is different from ordinary ones, but I haven’t heard of its name anywhere.”

Lu Mang scratched his head. Glancing sideways, he saw Pei Xiting sprinkling gold, his hand incredibly steady. You Zong followed his gaze, his eyes lingering on Pei Xiting’s face. After Pei Xiting put down the gold-sprinkling brush and its string, You Zong said, “Pei Clerk, do you have any thoughts?”

Pei Xiting said, “Ah?” He looked up, pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Although you’re not an investigating official, you are meticulous and intelligent. Feel free to speak,” You Zong said. “It doesn’t matter if you’re wrong.”

Pei Xiting had no interest in detective work, but since he was already embroiled in this mess of constant killings, he’d better try to take control as much as possible. Besides, this top superior’s gaze was gentle, as if encouraging him to speak boldly. So he stood up, walked over, and said, “Between the fifteenth year of Xining and now, has this plum blossom sleeve arrow committed any other crimes?”

Lu Mang shook his head. “He’s already a murderer. Wanted notices have been sent everywhere. Once he makes any move, reports would immediately go to Ye Merchant. But over the years, there’s been no trace of the plum blossom sleeve arrow.”

“If he’s a hired killer or assassin, his job-taking frequency is too low,” Pei Xiting said. “What exactly was the Wang family case back then?”

You Zong glanced at Lu Mang, who then handed the document to Pei Xiting. “The Wang family were wealthy Jiangnan merchants dealing in cloth. That year, Old Master Wang personally led a team to the northern textile firms to negotiate business, but they were ambushed on the road. Of the forty-five escorts, forty-three were killed, only two escaped alive. The deaths exactly totaled forty-four, so local officials suspected it was a deliberate vendetta. Later, we found plum blossom-shaped arrow wounds on several bodies, all fatal.”

“Were any arrowheads found at the scene?” Pei Xiting asked.

You Zong shook his head.

“Speaking of this, I find it quite funny,” Lu Mang said. “Did the murderer pull out the arrowheads one by one after shooting them?”

“Probably not,” You Zong speculated. “My guess is that the arrows were connected to something like a string, so they could be retrieved after penetrating the body, leaving no arrowheads behind and also being reusable.”

Pei Xiting flipped through the document. “I dare to guess it wasn’t a vendetta. The two survivors said: ‘A dozen or so black-clad masked men suddenly appeared and surrounded the convoy, then drew their blades and started hacking. Old Master shouted to ask who they were, but they remained silent, just killing.’ If it were revenge against the Wang family, wouldn’t it be too ‘quiet’? Wouldn’t they want the enemy to know who they were, to beg for mercy, to be terrified to the extreme, and to witness the enemy’s death firsthand? Moreover, these killers not only murdered but also stole—they took all the valuables. There’s also a bug.”

Lu Mang said, “A bug?”

“Another loophole,” Pei Xiting corrected his phrasing. “In my view, the fact that there were survivors in this massacre is itself somewhat inconsistent. According to the survivors, the assassins surrounded them. The mountain path was narrow, not like a forest where they could run everywhere. They were caught in a pincer attack. With such a disparity in strength between the two sides, how did they manage to break out of the encirclement and smoothly descend the mountain?”

He closed the document and speculated: “Could it be that the so-called forty-four deaths were just a smokescreen, to steer the case toward a vendetta and thus conceal the real motive? After all, merchants tend to make enemies out there; merchant killing merchant isn’t rare. The Wang family were wealthy, so they’d naturally attract envy.”

You Zong said, “I’ve had the same suspicion, but without the killer’s whereabouts, it’s hard to confirm.”

“The Wang family case remains doubtful. Years later, this plum blossom sleeve arrow suddenly appears and kills that buyer. Those two events might be connected somehow.” Pei Xiting shrugged. “My mind’s a bit jumbled.”

“Then stop thinking,” Lu Mang, being a good superior, immediately said. “Let Lord You have the headache.”

You Zong took the document and went off to have his headache. Lu Mang then took the lead in leaving early, and Pei Xiting naturally scurried off as well.

Yuan Fang was planting a potted plant in the courtyard. Seeing the man return, he couldn’t help saying, “Your job is way too leisurely.”

“That superior of mine really is great.” Pei Xiting walked over to sit under the eaves and asked the person crouching beside him, shoveling soil into a pot, “Have you ever heard of the plum blossom sleeve arrow?”

Yuan Fang said, “That weapon isn’t rare.”

Pei Xiting said, “Not the generic kind—the kind that leaves a plum blossom-shaped wound when the arrowhead enters the flesh.”

Yuan Fang said, “I haven’t heard of that.”

Pei Xiting thought for a moment. “Do you remember what that employer looked like?”

“I remember,” Yuan Fang said. “Are you investigating this?”

Pei Xiting said, “What do you think?”

“No opinion,” Yuan Fang said. “You describe, I’ll talk. You draw.”

Pei Xiting immediately opened his painting box, took out a sheet of paper, and said, “Tell me everything you remember.”

Yuan Fang thought for a while and said, “Middle-aged, around forty-something, half a head shorter than me, neither thin nor fat. His face was very square. His eyebrows were neither thick nor thin, shorter than mine, about this long, this thick—”

Pei Xiting looked up at the gestured fingers and said, “Mm-hmm.”

Yuan Fang continued: “His eyes were medium-sized, eyelids a bit puffy. His lips were a bit thick, like the owner of Li’s Meat Pie.”

Pei Xiting said smoothly, “Mm-hmm, I’ll take you there to eat later. Anything else?”

“That seems to be it. This person was dressed very plainly, no accessories.” Yuan Fang picked a packet of camellia seeds. “This man didn’t know martial arts, but he didn’t come alone. He said he had informants or something.”

“But only he died on the eastern outskirts,” Pei Xiting said.

Yuan Fang said, “Maybe his informants are still in Ye Merchant. When he traded with me at Baiyou Mountain that day, there were indeed several masked men behind him.”

“He brought people to the transaction with you, but returned to his destination alone—unlikely. There must be a reason behind it…” Pei Xiting finished. “Done.” He handed the sketchbook in front of Yuan Fang. “Take a look.”

“That’s really about seventy to eighty percent likeness,” Yuan Fang pointed at the neck. “The neck should be shorter and thicker, about this much.” He used his fingers to indicate the length. “And the face needs to be squarer.”

Pei Xiting revised the drawing once more and let Yuan Fang check. Yuan Fang nodded. “That’s about right. But how are you going to find him? The world is vast; finding someone is like looking for a needle in a haystack. And if anyone finds out this portrait came from you, you’ll be in for a heap of trouble.”

“I won’t look for him. I can let someone else do it,” Pei Xiting said.

Yuan Fang said, “Although Manager Qi has good connections, this person has an unknown background, neither good nor evil, hard to figure out, and not completely trustworthy. This involves the imperial family—it’s too big; it’s hard to guarantee he won’t leak it. Compared to him, finding the prince is safer.”

Pei Xiting asked, “Will the prince kill you?”

Yuan Fang said, “If I don’t covet the Poshilin.”

“You were in it for the money; you didn’t know beforehand,” Pei Xiting said. “I’ll vouch for that with my life.”

Yuan Fang was a bit surprised. “We haven’t known each other long.”

“‘White-haired like new, tilting-capped like old,’ ever heard that?” Pei Xiting looked down to pack his painting box. “I believe in fate and even more in intuition. If I dislike someone at first sight, there’s usually a reason.”

Yuan Fang said, “You like me?”

“Quite a bit. The best state between two people getting along is summed up in one word: comfortable. I’m comfortable with you.” Pei Xiting said, “You’ve been drifting in the underworld since you were young, brave, but your heart isn’t black. Otherwise, at the Dream Tower that day, you wouldn’t have left me as a witness, and even when you threatened me with a dagger, you were very measured, not hurting me at all. Over these few days, you don’t talk much, but you’re polite to those ordinary vendors outside. You help blind people cross streets, help fish stalls catch escaped fish, help kids retrieve their soccer ball from a tree—that shows you have a kind heart. In my opinion, you’re not a good person, but you’re not a bad one either. How you see yourself or how others judge you is none of my business.”

“Well, then.” Yuan Fang gave a rare smile, with a color akin to wood and stone cracking open to reveal natural floral and bird patterns. He stood up and clapped his hands. “I have one condition.”

Pei Xiting looked up at him. “Let’s hear it.”

“You have to get the prince to agree: not to reveal my whereabouts to anyone.” A rare gloom appeared on Yuan Fang’s face. “Otherwise, even if the prince doesn’t kill me, others will come looking for trouble on their own.”

That “others” seemed to refer to a specific target, but Pei Xiting didn’t ask further. After all, who on the streets doesn’t have enemies?

“I can’t be sure if the prince will accept that condition. To be safe, I need to think before deciding whether to give the portrait to him.” Saying this, Pei Xiting stood up and left.

Yuan Fang said, “Meat pie!”

Pei Xiting stepped out of the courtyard and was about to tell Yuan Fang to follow when a light mist suddenly clouded his vision. His instincts screamed danger, and he tried to step back but was too late.

He inhaled the mist, and Pei Xiting felt dizzy and disoriented, so weak in the legs that he stumbled forward.

Someone grabbed Pei Xiting’s arm and was about to hoist him onto their shoulder when a sudden pain shot through their shoulder—a large hand had clamped down on it.

The person turned to face a blank, expressionless face.

“Put him down,” You Zong said.