PC Chapter 13

After a great deal of effort, they finally dispersed the crowd of people eager to stir up trouble. Song Jiancheng, his face dark with anger, pointed at Su Cen and shouted, “Look at the mess you’ve caused! If this panic spreads throughout the capital and reaches the Emperor’s ears, who will be able to protect you?”

Protect him? Su Cen smiled indifferently. In this city of Chang’an, there were those who wanted to suppress him, those who envied him, and even those who wanted his life, but not a single person wanted to protect him.

Su Cen said solemnly, “It’s not a vengeful ghost killing people; it’s likely someone committing murder under the guise of a vengeful ghost.”

Although he was reluctant to admit it, Song Jiancheng knew that Su Cen could indeed notice details that others couldn’t. So, despite his displeasure, he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Can a vengeful ghost be injured?” Su Cen asked.

Song Jiancheng was stunned.

Not wanting to keep them in suspense, Su Cen gestured for them to turn the body over and said, “There is a bloodstain on the back of the deceased that does not belong to him.”

Sure enough, there was a smear of blood on the deceased’s dark brown clothing, almost overlooked due to the color.

Song Jiancheng stiffened his neck. “The deceased’s throat was slit, so it’s not strange for there to be blood on his back.”

“But the throat was slit after the deceased was hanged,” Su Cen explained slowly. “The cut shows no signs of struggle and is on the left side of the neck. Ask yourself, who would just stand there, facing someone who is cutting their throat, without resisting? This could only happen if the victim was already unable to resist. Furthermore, a living person having their throat cut would result in a large amount of blood spraying out, but the blood on the deceased is clearly insufficient, suggesting that the victim was already near death or even dead at the time.”

Everyone was taken aback.

“And this broken rope,” Su Cen continued, picking up the rope that had been used to hang the body, “no one would use a broken rope to hang someone. So, the rope must have broken during the attack.”

“I’ve examined the body; there are two ligature marks, both of which are bruised and purple. This indicates that both marks were made while the victim was still alive. The killer must have first strangled the victim from behind, forming the mark at the back of the neck. However, the killer did not anticipate that Yuan Shaochun would not die but only pass out temporarily. When the killer tried to hang him on the tree, Yuan Shaochun regained consciousness and broke the rope. The struggle must have occurred at that moment, and the killer got injured during the fight. However, Yuan Shaochun was eventually subdued and hung on the tree, forming the second ligature mark behind his ears. This is when the killer’s blood stained the back of the victim’s clothes. Fearing that the victim might break the rope again, the killer slashed his throat for good measure.”

Song Jiancheng nodded, only to realize he was agreeing with Su Cen. His face turned stern again.

Su Cen didn’t point it out and continued, “The so-called ‘vengeful ghost murders’ are just a smokescreen. The killer is very likely the one spreading the rumors.”

Song Jiancheng finally showed some wit and instructed the clerks behind him, “Investigate those who were causing a commotion in the crowd just now.”

“And,” Su Cen interrupted, “focus on those who failed the imperial exams but are still lingering in the capital. It’s probably not a coincidence that the killer specifically targets those who passed. The killer is about seven to seven and a half feet tall and—has an injury.”

After giving these instructions, Su Cen turned around and continued examining the rope marks on the branches of the crooked-necked tree at the crime scene.

After giving his instructions, Su Cen turned back to continue examining the rope marks on the branches of the crooked-necked tree at the crime scene.

Song Jiancheng stared blankly at Su Cen’s back. This young upstart, fresh out of the academy, could pinpoint the crucial aspects of the case so sharply—boldly posing questions and cautiously verifying them. An experienced coroner might be able to deduce the killer’s build from the angle of the knife wounds and the position of the hanging, but Song Jiancheng couldn’t fathom how this young man could tell at a glance.

Standing under the tree, Su Cen had his own thoughts. There was something he hadn’t said earlier: from the look of the scene, the killer seemed to be a person of weak constitution. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have failed to strangle the victim in one go and had to do it again, nor would they have injured themselves while handling someone who had just regained consciousness.

But last night, Qu Linger mentioned that the person who took Lü Liang to the Eastern Market was skilled in martial arts. Though that person usually behaved frivolously, his confidence at the time didn’t seem like he was joking.

So, who is right? Who is wrong? Or perhaps… could it be that the person who brought Lü Liang to the Eastern Market and the killer were not the same?

After everyone from the Ministry of Justice had packed up and left, Su Cen slowly started to head back. Passing by the corner of the examination hall, he suddenly stopped.

It was here, on that day, that a group of people burned paper, claiming to be offering sacrifices to the spirits of the deceased in the examination hall.

Su Cen squatted down and stared at a small pile of ashes in the corner, lost in thought. After a moment, he reached out to pinch some of the ashes.

The ash was dry and fine.

But it had just rained two days ago!

In other words, the imperial exams had been over for more than a month, yet someone still came to offer sacrifices—within the last two days!

Su Cen suddenly turned around. Within a hundred paces, he could vaguely see that crooked-necked tree.

A chill crept over him… When the person was burning paper here, could it be that Yuan Shaochun was already hanging on that tree?

Circling from the back, Su Cen saw that the sweetwater stall in front of the Examination Hall was still open, with quite a few people sitting there—likely those who had come after watching the commotion.

Su Cen walked over and found a table. Just as he sat down, he heard someone behind him say, “It really was a vengeful ghost killing people. I told you we should have gone to pay our respects that day. Look, now two people have died.”

Hearing this, Su Cen turned around, raising an eyebrow. How coincidental—it was the same fat man who had been burning paper that day.

The sweetwater was served, and just as Su Cen was about to grab it, he remembered he hadn’t washed his hands after handling the corpse. Reluctantly, he refrained and instead focused his attention on the fat man.

At that table, three people were huddled together, whispering in low voices. Their volume was just right for those who wanted to listen in to hear, while those who didn’t could ignore it. Su Cen glanced around; he wasn’t the only one listening in.

The fat man continued, “Yesterday, the dead one was a third-class jinshi, and today it’s a second-class jinshi. If this keeps up, will it be the top three next? I wonder which unlucky kid got this year’s top scholar title. If it were me, I’d just stay home and never go out.”

Su Cen: “…”

For no reason, his fate had already been decided by someone.

Su Cen took two steps forward and knocked on the table in front of the three men. All three of them looked up at him in unison.

Su Cen took two steps forward and knocked on the table in front of the three men. All three looked up at him simultaneously.

“It’s you?” The fat man had a good eye; even after more than a month, he recognized Su Cen immediately.

Su Cen didn’t bother with pleasantries and sat directly in the empty seat across from them. Staring at the fat man, he asked, “You keep saying it’s a vengeful ghost. So, have you seen it?”

The fat man chuckled foolishly, “If I’d seen it, would I still be sitting here? But—” The fat man gestured, and the others leaned in closer, except for Su Cen, who stayed put. The fat man pointed at the Examination Hall and lowered his voice, “Someone really did die in there.”

Su Cen looked over at the Examination Hall in the distance, bathed in sunlight. The large characters written by Old Man Lin shone brilliantly. Countless people had studied their entire lives just to have their names inscribed here on the Golden List. Not long ago, Su Cen himself was inside, writing furiously. Now, the excitement had faded, the courtyard gates tightly shut, leaving everyone to speculate and wonder.

“Don’t believe me?” Seeing Su Cen’s distracted expression, the fat man assumed he wasn’t taking it seriously. He waved over the old man selling sweetwater, pulled him close, and pointed at Su Cen. “Tell him—didn’t someone die in there?”

The old man smiled apologetically. Su Cen, however, turned his attention away from the Examination Hall gate and gave the old man a friendly smile. “Tell us what you know.”

The old man sighed and said, “Yes, about a dozen years ago, there was indeed someone who went through that gate and never came back out.”

“Never came out?” Su Cen frowned. “Can you remember something from over ten years ago so clearly?”

“He bought sweetwater from me before going in and gave me extra silver. I waited for him to come back out and return the change, but he never did before the gate closed.”

“He must’ve died inside and turned into a vengeful ghost, specifically targeting those who pass the exams,” the fat man said as he picked up his bowl with his right hand, grimaced, and switched to his left. After gulping down the sweetwater, he continued, “I told you back then to burn some paper, but you didn’t listen. Look at it now, the vengeful ghost is out killing, and who knows who’ll be next?”

“Your arm is hurt?” Su Cen’s sharp eyes caught the movement of him switching hands.

“An old problem. I fell from a tree as a child, and it aches whenever it’s about to rain.” The fat man casually twisted his arm and smiled at Su Cen.

Su Cen glanced up at the sky. It was a clear blue without a hint of rain. He frowned slightly, then looked back and asked, “Do you still go there to burn paper now?”

“What’s the point of burning paper now? We didn’t pass; the vengeful ghost won’t come for us,” one of them replied.

“Didn’t pass?” Su Cen subtly raised an eyebrow. “Are you all from the capital? If you didn’t pass, why are you still here?”

“The capital is so bustling,” one of them clicked his tongue twice. “Who knows when we’ll be back next time? It’s not easy to come here, so we’re staying as long as we can.”

“Three years from now, there’ll be another imperial exam. Won’t you all come back then?”

The fat man shook his head. “I only barely passed the provincial exam. My father is a butcher, and we don’t have much money. Coming to the capital this time, my family spent everything they had. I’m planning to go back home, open a private school, and teach. Maybe one day, those old officials in the Ministry of Personnel will remember me and assign me a clerk position in some county office.”

Su Cen recalled the day of the imperial exam when this fat man was being cursed at in the examination courtyard and didn’t talk back, sweating profusely. It seemed this man indeed had limited scholarly abilities. Nodding, he smiled at him and said, “That sounds like a good plan.”

“We seem to be fated to meet,” the fat man raised his bowl to Su Cen. “My name is Gao Miao. May I ask for your name, brother? If we meet again someday, we could count it as having crossed paths.”

Su Cen glanced at his own hands, reluctantly wiped them on his clothes, and raised his bowl. “Su Cen.”

“Su Cen?” The three of them exchanged glances. “That name sounds a bit familiar.”

Su Cen rubbed his nose and replied, “I’m that unlucky guy you were just talking about.”

The three of them: “…”

 

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