PC Chapter 12

After returning home from the courthouse that day, Su Cen headed straight for Qu Ling’er’s bedroom.

Qu Ling’er was playing a hand-slapping game with Ah Fu, using his agility to bully Ah Fu. Ah Fu’s hand was swollen from all the hits, yet he hadn’t managed to touch Qu Ling’er even once.

Seeing Su Cen enter, Ah Fu immediately took the opportunity to stand up. “Second Young Master, you’re back.”

Su Cen said nothing and walked straight to Qu Ling’er, towering over him and staring coldly down.

Feeling the oppressive pressure from Su Cen’s presence, Qu Ling’er felt a chill down his spine. He didn’t dare to breathe loudly and immediately lowered his head in surrender. “I was wrong, I was wrong. At worst, I’ll let Ah Fu hit me back.”

“Where did you go last night?”

“Huh?” Qu Ling’er was momentarily stunned and then evasively avoided Su Cen’s gaze. “Nowhere, just… slept.”

“At midnight last night, I heard your door open, and you didn’t come back for half an hour,” Su Cen’s gaze turned cold. “Half an hour is more than enough to go to the Eastern Market and back, maybe even kill someone while you’re at it, right?!”

“Kill someone?” Qu Ling’er suddenly looked up. “Who died?”

“Don’t you know who you killed?” Su Cen grabbed Qu Ling’er’s slender wrist and pulled him off the bed. “Whatever you have to say, say it at the Ministry of Justice. When they start torturing you, you might as well explain who gave you all these injuries, who wants you dead, and who sent you to assassinate Prince Ning.”

“Su Cen, Su Cen, Brother Su!” Qu Ling’er panicked, quickly breaking free from Su Cen’s grip. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk. I did go out last night, but I just… went out to drink.”

“Drink?” Su Cen frowned.

Qu Ling’er looked at Su Cen pleadingly. “If you don’t believe me, ask Ah Fu. We went together.”

Su Cen turned to look at Ah Fu.

Ah Fu, feeling betrayed by Qu Ling’er for dragging him into this, complained with a disgruntled expression, “Not only did he drink, but he also had a plate of orchid beans and about three liang of beef.”

Qu Ling’er smiled apologetically. “I’ve been drinking plain porridge every day recently, and my mouth’s so bland it could grow feathers. But I promise, Su-ge, I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Where did you go drinking?”

Qu Ling’er quickly replied, “At a hidden tavern in Pingkang Ward. The Eastern Market has a curfew and closes early, but that hidden tavern secretly opens at night. You can drink and listen to music there.”

Su Cen ignored him and stared at Ah Fu. “Was he with you the entire time?”

Ah Fu nodded. “He just went out to relieve himself, and it was only the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. Not enough time to get to the Eastern Market.”

Pingkang Ward and the Eastern Market are only one ward apart, but to make a round trip and commit a murder in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn was impossible.

Speaking of relieving himself, Qu Ling’er suddenly recalled, “Was the one who died a woman?”

Su Cen finally turned around. “What do you mean?”

“When I was relieving myself, I heard someone next door saying something about wanting to kill that crazy woman…”

Su Cen suddenly looked up, his eyes bright like a lone star in the dark night. “What else did he say?”

Qu Ling’er furrowed his brows and thought for a moment. “He also said something about ruining his reputation and affecting his career path. I didn’t really pay attention, thought they were just joking around.”

“What time was it then?”

“You already mentioned it—it was around midnight, the third watch.”

“By midnight, the Eastern Market gates should have been closed. How did he get in?”

Qu Ling’er exclaimed, “That’s right! The person talking to him said he could take him into the Eastern Market!”

Upon hearing this, Su Cen immediately became excited. He grabbed Qu Ling’er’s sleeve and urgently asked, “Who was it? What did he look like?”

Qu Ling’er frowned. “I was… doing my business at the time. There was a toilet wall between us, so how could I know what he looked like? But judging by the voice, he sounded like a young man, probably not over forty. Also, that person seemed to have some martial arts skills.”

Su Cen asked, “How can you tell?”

“Martial artists have light and steady footsteps, something ordinary people can’t achieve,” Qu Ling’er said proudly. “For someone like me, who’s trained, just hearing their footsteps is enough to get a sense of who they are. For example, my lightness skills—Flowing Clouds and Flying Swallows, Walking Without a Trace—there are very few in this world who could catch up to me…”

Su Cen waved his hand, interrupting Qu Ling’er’s self-praise. “With your skills, could you scale the walls of the Eastern Market?”

“I could, of course.”

“And if you had to bring someone with you?”

Qu Ling’er clicked his tongue. “Well… Brother Su, it’s not that I can’t, but unless you’re some kind of deity, no one could manage that. Lightness skills require being light as a swallow; how could I perform them while carrying another person?”

Su Cen nodded. He had seen Qu Ling’er’s lightness skills before. If even Qu Ling’er couldn’t scale the wall with another person, then the man definitely didn’t climb over. The only possibility was that he bribed the gatekeeper. Su Cen had already concluded that there was a third person involved in this case, and this yet-to-be-identified person who bribed the gatekeeper must be the key.

Having understood what he wanted to ask, Su Cen relaxed a bit and asked one last question: “Why did you take Ah Fu with you when you went drinking?”

Qu Ling’er pouted pitifully. “I… didn’t have any money.”

Su Cen shot a sharp glance over. Ah Fu, frightened, quickly added, “It was all from my monthly allowance; we didn’t use any of the family’s money.”

“If he pulls any more stunts, just throw him out,” Su Cen said, narrowing his eyes menacingly. “Why are you still standing there? Go make porridge! And if I find out he’s sneaking out to drink again, you’ll both be stuck eating plain porridge from now on.”

Just as he was leaving the room, he turned back and added, “Report that hidden tavern to the authorities. Tomorrow, I’ll bring people over to shut it down.”

Qu Ling’er: “…”

The next morning, Su Cen hurried over to the city gate officer to borrow the duty roster for the gatekeepers from the previous night, planning to bring them in for questioning one by one. However, upon arriving at the Dali Temple, he found the place sparsely populated, with only Xiao Sun leading the embroiderer woman out of the temple.

Su Cen asked, “Where is everyone?”

Xiao Sun sighed, “You were right yesterday; there has been another murder.”

Su Cen was shocked and quickly asked what had happened.

Xiao Sun explained that someone had reported the crime early in the morning, and Lord Song hadn’t even come to the office. Instead, he went straight to the scene from his home.

After finding out the location, Su Cen shoved the roster into Xiao Sun’s arms and hurriedly walked out. After taking two steps, he turned back and looked at the embroiderer woman following behind Xiao Sun. “What about her? What should we do?”

“What else can we do?” Xiao Sun spread his hands. “She’s a lunatic; we can’t get anything out of her. Keeping her locked up would just waste food. Since she didn’t commit the murder, Lord Song decided to release her.”

Su Cen nodded, realizing there wasn’t a better option. Just as he was about to turn around, he froze in place, a chill running from his scalp down his spine.

Those eyes, hidden behind disheveled hair, were staring at him clearly and intently—firm and serious, not at all like the look of a dazed person.

But in the next instant, she smiled foolishly and looked elsewhere.

“Lord Su?” Xiao Sun called out.

Su Cen snapped back to reality, hesitated for a moment, then turned and left.

The scene was behind the examination courtyard, specifically by a twisted-neck tree.

The person had been hanged.

By the time Su Cen arrived, a crowd had already gathered, and the body had been taken down from the tree.

When Song Jiancheng saw Su Cen, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He yelled, “What are you doing here? Who told you to come?”

“Naturally, I’m here to assist with the investigation,” Su Cen replied with a smile and squatted down to examine the body on his own.

Song Jiancheng’s mouth opened, but he was at a loss for words. It was more than just feeling like he’d swallowed a fly. This was a prime example of “one misstep leading to eternal regret.” Why had he bothered provoking him?!

“Hey, don’t touch—” The coroner, who was nearly in his sixties, hadn’t even finished his warning before Su Cen was already examining the body.

“The deceased’s clothes are disheveled, showing signs of a struggle. His face is dark purple, with eyes and mouth open, tongue pressing against the teeth, and his hyoid bone is broken. There is a wound on his neck identical to Lu Liang’s, except this time the wound is on the left side. There are no other wounds on the body.”

“Come help me,” Su Cen called to a junior clerk standing nearby. The two of them managed to lift the already stiffened jaw of the corpse. Su Cen glanced at it and couldn’t help but frown.

There were two ligature marks.

“Turn him over.” After examining the front, they turned the body over to check the back. One ligature mark crossed behind both ears, while the other crossed behind the neck.

The coroner, noticing Su Cen’s skilled technique, grew worried that someone might be trying to take his job. He hurriedly asked the person next to him, “Who is this guy?”

The person scoffed quietly, “The new top scorer in the imperial exam.”

Su Cen ignored the disdain in his tone. After inspecting the body, he picked up a nearby rope and took a closer look. There was a noticeable knot on the three-foot rope.

“Did you cut this when you lowered the body?” Su Cen asked.

“Of course not,” a junior clerk replied. “It was already tied like this.”

“How high was the body hanging?”

“Less than two feet off the ground.”

After putting down the rope, Su Cen nonchalantly wiped his hands on the hem of his robe, stood up, and asked, “What’s the deceased’s identity?”

A clerk nearby casually answered, “The deceased is Yuan Shaochun, a native of Binzhou. He was a candidate for this year’s metropolitan exam, holding a second-class jinshi degree…”

Halfway through his explanation, he realized his mistake and glanced secretly at Song Jiancheng. Song Jiancheng’s face had turned as dark as the bottom of a pot, so the clerk quickly stopped talking.

Another exam candidate—Su Cen frowned, about to say something when a sudden commotion erupted in the crowd.

“It’s the work of an evil spirit! The evil spirit from the examination courtyard is out killing people!!” someone shouted from within the crowd.

Immediately, chaos broke out all around.

 

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