Chapter 61

From the adjacent kitchen, separated only by a thin wall, came sounds indicating Old Madam Zhou had started a fresh wok of food. Soon, fragrant strands carrying the distinct aroma of meat drifted through the propped-up window into the sparse bedroom, faintly masking the earlier charred, acrid scent.

“The day the embankment of Yingqiu Weir was wrecked, that is to say, the day before yesterday at dawn, the first to discover it was none other than that very County Security Official. Spending his days idle and shirking, he goes into the mountains supposedly ‘on patrol.’ Thus, when the Yingqiu Weir was destroyed, he happened to be there on the scene. Utterly terrified, he rushed back into the city to report to the County Magistrate. That incident is what prompted the subsequent ‘repairs’.”

“You mean,” Shen Jie said, “the County Security Official was actually present when the Yingqiu Weir was destroyed, yet the County Magistrate was not?”

Chen Shu sat perched on the edge of the bed, hands braced on the bedding, straining her whole body towards Shen Jie in her eagerness to hear every nuance clearly. “So that means the County Magistrate has no connection to this?”

“To say he’s completely disconnected? Indeed, he has no direct link. Given the County Magistrate’s physical strength, let alone an embankment, he couldn’t even shatter a cup,” Shen Jie turned, looked at her, and patiently explained. “But to assert he bears not even the faintest wisp of connection… well, that leaves far too much room for maneuver. Leaving aside other possibilities, he could very well have ordered subordinates to carry out the act, remaining comfortably ensconced within the yamen himself. That way, he maintains plausible deniability while ensuring the weir’s destruction.”

“…What does your Ladyship imply, then?” Zhou An asked, his curiosity drawing him into the conversation.

Shen Jie didn’t correct his form of address, simply continuing, “This County Security Official… he’s either a complete fool or an exceptionally masterful deceiver. Based on my experience, I lean towards the former. If that’s the case, and if he was truly so terrified upon making the discovery by sheer coincidence… two things become clear.

“First, if he hadn’t been skipping his patrols — shirking his duties by wandering off into the mountains under the guise of duty — there would have been no one to witness the destruction of the weir that day. This indicates that whoever wrecked the embankment was certain that during this season, no one from Yingqiu City would venture out to inspect the weir. Yet, at the same time, they weren’t sufficiently familiar with the Yingqiu yamen officials; they didn’t know Sun Jin had a habit of skipping work, thus his potential presence was an unknown risk. Second, considering Sun Jin’s character, had he caught someone in the act of such destruction, his first instinct would have been to bluster and bully, arresting the culprit without question to haul back to the yamen for credit — precisely as he tried to do with us. Therefore, anyone who could frighten Sun Jin into such a panicked retreat to raise the alarm… must have been someone he likely knew… and…”

“And someone he naturally feared?” Shen Jie said slowly, her words drawn out. At the end, her gaze met Zhou An’s. Unable to contain her impatience beside them, Chen Shu blurted out, finishing Shen Jie’s sentence almost impatiently, “So according to this reasoning, if we detain that County Security Official and… interrogate him, carefully, of course… wouldn’t we immediately learn the name, origin, and background of the person who wrecked the weir?”

Zhou An looked at her, wide-eyed with shock at her suggestion. Shen Jie gave a light laugh and swatted Chen Shu on the back of her head. The unexpected tap caused Chen Shu to lose her balance, collapsing against Shen Jie.

“What was that for? I was serious!” Chen Shu protested in a muffled tone, voice low. “That Sun Jin doesn’t seem very brave; I doubt we need to resort to much difficulty. Just breaking his legs should be enough to make him confess—”

“Oh? You favor extorting confessions through torture as well?” Shen Jie asked lightly, her voice almost ethereal.

The remaining half of Chen Shu’s argument died abruptly. Her eyes widened in innocent surprise. Craning her neck back, she looked into Shen Jie’s face, blinking rapidly.

“N-No. I don’t.”

She spoke the words one by one, scrutinizing Shen Jie’s expression, each syllable measured with cautious care.

Shen Jie gave a soft, knowing chuckle. The hand that had swatted Chen Shu’s head now ruffled her hair gently. Watching Chen Shu shyly stick out her tongue, Shen Jie let it pass. She lifted her head to address Zhou An. “So, based on your testimony, this ‘repairing the weir’ business… it began as early as the very afternoon the disaster occurred?”

“Correct,” Zhou An replied, his own expression turning grave. “Sun Jin rushed back to the city in panic, but the County Magistrate displayed no similar alarm. Instead, he ordered secrecy. The two of them deliberated privately for a long time. It was evening of that same day when they hastily conscripted us to undertake the repairs. They pressed on only for that one day. Then, the very next day… they encountered you.”

“I understand,” Shen Jie said.

She seemed about to pose another question when, abruptly, the door was shoved open by the elderly woman. Waves of heat carrying the rich cooking smells surged in, accompanied by the old woman’s commanding, robust voice: “Out to eat with you! You two girls as well — awake not long either, I’d wager? I stir-fried some extra meat. Fill your bellies first before touring this Yingqiu City.”

After saying this, without waiting for a reply from anyone in the room, the old woman briskly served the vegetables. Just as Shen Jie was about to refuse and politely mention to Zhou An that they had already eaten at the inn, Chen Shu, who had been curled in her lap, suddenly sprang up, dashed out of the room, and urged excitedly:

“Grandma, I’ll help you!”

Shen Jie’s words were thus cut short. She swallowed them back awkwardly, forced an embarrassed smile at Zhou An, and followed them out.

Though the old woman’s cooking couldn’t rival that of the inn’s chef, it was full of color, aroma, and flavor—rich in oil, fiercely spicy, and drenched in sauce, much to Chen Shu’s delight. Shen Jie barely touched her chopsticks, merely watching the girl who, moments ago at the inn, had claimed to be full, yet now stuffed her mouth as if her belly was bottomless.

By the meal’s end, Zhou An had eaten about thirty percent, the old woman ten, and Shen Jie ten. The remaining entire half? All vanished into Chen Shu’s stomach.

The girl was full and content, and the old woman, seeing her enjoy the food so heartily, was likewise satisfied, her wrinkles deepening with a bright smile. As they left, her earlier stern expression entirely reversed, she took Chen Shu’s hand and repeatedly told Zhou An to “take care showing this young lady around Yingqiu.”

Zhou An dared not refuse, nodding frantically. The three walked straight out of the courtyard. Though their mouths spoke of “strolling Yingqiu City,” each harbored their own purpose. This silent understanding hung perfectly clear among them as they advanced half a street in near silence, only halting once the faint smoke from the distant courtyard vanished from sight. It was then Zhou An spoke again.

“You… truly wish to tour Yingqiu?”

“We do,” said Shen Jie. “We actually need you to point us toward a path.”

“Your Honor, please tell me.”

“I see the Yingqiu Weir descends from the mountains. Beyond this southern embankment, I assume if one exits the city northward toward the mountains, there must be another path leading to its upper reaches?”

Zhou An froze, evidently startled Shen Jie deduced this from just one late-night glance. He pondered for a long moment before replying, “There… there might indeed be such a path. But it’s been disused for years. Since the mountain trail you took into the city now serves as the outside route, no one has walked this little path for ages.”

“Take us there.”

Once settled, the trio headed northward. Led by Zhou An, they passed increasingly desolate outskirts until they reached the utterly dilapidated northern section of the city wall. Beyond it, a towering, imposing mountain peak loomed instantly large. Only then did Chen Shu grasp why this outer track lay forgotten. The mountain was not merely tall; it stood frighteningly close, barely offering a pass more feasible than a sheer cliff. Its heights demanded respect. And that very path wound precariously around the lofty peaks, half-hidden by thickets of overgrown trees, looking perilous to the extreme.

Emerging past the city gate, Shen Jie looked up and uttered a curious, “Oh?” before turning to thank Zhou An. The man seemed to have more to say, but she cut him off.

“I truly must thank you,” she declared, pulling out the same silver piece she’d shown indoors and firmly shoving it into Zhou An’s hand. “I said I’d repay you, and I always keep my word. Keep this for now.”

Accepting it without resistance, Zhou An lowered his head, a hint of dejection in his tone. “But the County Magistrate…”

“Rest easy. Silver you’ve received; the case I will pursue,” Shen Jie patted his arm. “Solving cases is the only thing I’m good at. If he is guilty, I’ll personally escort him back to the capital, bound if need be.”

With that, ignoring Zhou An’s visibly shifting expression and obvious desire to speak, she slapped Chen Shu lightly on the back—as one might guide a little horse—beckoned her forward, and started up the mountain trail.

The path proved treacherously steep. A single misstep could send one tumbling into the ravines. For an ordinary person, a fall meant more than a sore nose and swollen face; they’d likely never manage the climb again, doomed to perish on the slopes.

Fortunately, Chen Shu traversed it as if it were level ground. At first, Shen Jie watched her carefully. But once she noticed the girl wasn’t just unscathed—she even had energy to ravage the roadside wildflowers—she chuckled inwardly and let her caution fade.

Hearing her laugh, Chen Shu assumed Shen Jie wanted to talk. She looked up eagerly and blurted, “Earlier, when Sis gave Zhou An that silver, you looked so cool, so full of strength!”

“Did I?”

“Yes!” Chen Shu affirmed. “Made me think it was cool too! Funny though—Zhou An doesn’t lack clothing or food, works at the yamen… seems pretty comfortable. Yet whenever I see him or hear him talk, he just feels so… pitiable…”

“I’ve met people worse off than him, certainly,” Shen Jie acknowledged. “Parents dead, children gone, weeping on deathbeds, collapsing at the execution ground. People wail and break down, or sit silently with tears. Rarely is the pain this tranquil, this numb.” She paused. “But sometimes, that very composure invites pity.”

“…But you gave him silver!” Chen Shu chirped, bouncing back to cheerfulness. “His life should get better now, right?”

Shen Jie stepped firmly onto a descending stone step, turned, and offered a hand to guide Chen Shu down. “Hard to say. What that man seeks isn’t just quick coin… Yingqiu City’s web is intricately tangled. It all stems from previous county magistrates—men of honesty, unwilling to collude with the Valley of Villains. They were persecuted: two died mysteriously, one vanished, and another had his tongue cut out. Yingqiu today, even if half-dead and barely managed, is still markedly better than the decades before. Appointing a truly new magistrate? None at court want the thankless task. The emperor ages; he guards his capable, loyal servants, reluctant to post them to such a wretched place.”

“Ah! Then….” Chen Shu halted, looking to Shen Jie. “…So there’s genuinely no solution?”

“There is one,” answered Shen Jie. She seemed to spot something ahead. Without stopping, she quickened her pace two steps. As predicted, pushing through a clump of shrubbery let the daylight flood back onto the path, unveiling vast, sprawling embankments unmistakably belonging to the Yingqiu Weir. Only then did she turn back, gesturing Chen Shu onward. “Unless we uproot the Valley of Villains. Wipe them entirely from the earth.”

“Oh! I see!” declared Chen Shu. She asked another question. “But how do we wipe them out?”

This time, Shen Jie froze momentarily. Then she merely smiled slightly, offering no answer. Instead, she turned forward. It might have been merely to wait for Chen Shu to catch up; perhaps she was closely scrutinizing the Yingqiu Weir stretching ahead.

“I sense we’ve overlooked something,” she murmured, lost in thought.

“What?”

Chen Shu also copied her posture to peer at the dam ahead. She saw that the ditch at the bottom of the dam seemed to have risen slightly compared to yesterday, small and compact, like enormous raindrops falling onto the dam base, spreading outward one by one. Reflecting the sunlight, the water flowed slowly downstream, shimmering vividly. After a while, she raised her hand and exclaimed, “Look there, could those be hoofprints!”