Chapter 74

Another day’s sun rose and set. After a full day’s bustling activity, as evening approached, the warm crimson evening glow seemed especially inviting, drawing one’s gaze irresistibly, even if its brilliance forced one to squint.

The magistrate of Diancang Pass remained, as usual, the heart of the city after the great calamity, with people and officials flowing in and out ceaselessly.

Among the city’s residents, disregarding the spectators visiting for the Sword Discussion Tournament and those who moved to Diancang Pass in recent years seeking livelihood or joining relatives, perhaps a few long-time residents understood something of the rules governing the local garrison.

Liu Mao, as the commander (dūhù or General Liu), was theoretically in charge of both military affairs and the city’s administration; the magistracy was indeed his domain. Yet, even emperors reviewing memorials had their preferences – some favored the study, others the grand audience hall, and some dissolute, unrestrained monarchs even needed the lure of the pleasure quarters to muster any enthusiasm for state affairs. While not comparable to those eternally infamous, ludicrous emperors, Liu Mao was nonetheless a spoiled child from a wealthy family. In the capital, his nature was one of capricious extremes – loving someone unto life, hating them unto death. Although he had restrained himself somewhat after coming to Diancang Pass, he still resented having to report daily to the magistracy, let alone actually lodging in this government office situated amongst the noisy marketplace.

Even considering the catastrophic deluge, this was undeniably the first time.

But these ordinary folk, muttering amongst themselves, didn’t know why Liu Mao was acting out of character, nor could they guess his true motives. At most, it became gossip mentioned in passing during casual conversations. Unaware of Shen Jie’s vehement argument with Liu Mao before her departure, they mostly said that although the commander was usually overbearing, when faced with true disaster – when the starving lay strewn across the land – he proved himself considerate of the people and capable of great responsibility.

Therefore, even if some felt something was off, no one treated this anomaly as anything significant. And so, right under the bright sun, Liu Mao successfully concealed the matter he wished to hide, without lifting a finger.

It was the afternoon. The sun glared fiercely, and numerous soldiers and yamen runners bustled back and forth. This was Chen Shu’s third visit to the Diancang Pass magistracy since her return, and while the scene seemed identical to the previous days, the trio proceeded with even greater caution – for no other reason than that they had returned covertly.

At least it was daytime; Li Chou’s recently cleaned face remained intact.

The three became “gentlemen of the wall” once more. This time, braving the scorching sun, they slipped quietly across rooftops ravaged by the flood waters, creeping towards the government magistrate’s building.

Lucky for them, from Yan Ji to Li Chou, and finally to Chen Shu, each had superior lightness skills (qīngōng) to the last, allowing them to avoid detection even outside the bustling magistracy.

But this was only the first step.

The continuous stream of yamen runners inside the magistracy, the soldiers guarding the study door, and Liu Mao himself glancing out of the window now and then – all of them formed a towering mountain blocking their path. No matter how good their lightness skills, how skilled their footwork, they could not sneak in under this multitude of watchful eyes, dig open that earth mound, check it, rebuild it exactly as before, and then manage to remove the corpse and conduct a proper search.

The three crept along the roof beams for quite a while, seeing the soldiers truly perform their duties diligently. As for Liu Mao himself, he was the picture of diligence. It was likely this spoiled scion hadn’t been so hardworking for many days in an entire year.

This odd trio, brought together by chance just the day before, began to disagree once more. And again, somewhat inappropriately considering their location, they started arguing.

Chen Shu seemed certain within herself, but the two behind her were far less convinced. Li Chou, particularly, having been dragged to the magistracy again, was the first to voice his doubts, asking her what exactly she was looking for. Yan Ji, though also unsure, seeing Li Chou’s skepticism, predictably opposed him out of sheer contrariness.

It was rather amusing, a case perhaps of contrast revealing truth: among the three, usually the least reliable, Chen Shu, became the one making the call.

She remained silent. Soon bored by their own argument, the other two fell quiet. Only after a long pause did Li Chou, his voice still hushed, speak again directly to Chen Shu: “What exactly are we still waiting for? Forget how uncomfortable this roof is; isn’t just passively waiting pointless? You need to tell us clearly what you plan to do – I am willing to wait with you, but all those disciples in Biyang Valley are waiting to be fed… waiting for me back at the compound! In a few days, we must also return to the sect! Packing, cleaning weapons and gear—I need to oversee it all!”

“Didn’t know you were such a busy man?” Yan Ji interjected with a chuckle.

Li Chou snorted quietly, seemingly about to retort, but held back upon seeing Chen Shu finally speak.

“I was thinking…” Chen Shu began, pointing towards the small, piled mound of earth in the courtyard not far away, then twirling her finger. “I was thinking… if Sister… Lord Shen were here, what would she do? What kind of method would she use to quietly dig up this mound and uncover what she wanted to find?”

“But didn’t Right Supervisor Shen herself pile up that earth?” Li Chou asked in confusion.

Chen Shu jolted. Although plastered flat against the rooftop tiles, she nearly sprang upright, turning her face fully towards Li Chou.

“How do you know she piled it herself?”

“The day the great flood hit, she piled up that little mound inside the magistracy,” Li Chou said, probably still expecting some profound revelation, not anticipating her grand scheming was for this insignificant pile of dirt. He looked distinctly bewildered, recollecting as he spoke haltingly. “Not just me; many yamen runners and soldiers were present the day she built it. If all this trouble is just for this little mound… you should have told me earlier! There was definitely nothing buried in it—”

“When Lord Shen was buried here, there was nothing beneath this mound, right?” Chen Shu said. “Since you knew, the soldiers must have known too, and of course, Liu Mao must have been aware as well… In this huge magistracy compound, every room has people coming and going, every room could be intruded upon. It’s not just countless eyes watching; it’s countless mouths, countless pairs of ears, countless people whispering to each other. How could Liu Mao, trying to hide something—how could he hide an entire corpse—conceal it from all the people in this compound, indeed, from the entire city? Only this mound…

“No matter how curious or how much they probe, if they have any conscience at all, no one would stoop so low as to dig up a ‘cemetery of clothes and belongings’!”

The moment she said this, Li Chou was still struggling to grasp the implication, but Yan Ji had already reacted, drawing a sharp breath as he chimed in, “Could it be… the darkness under the lamp, under the very lamp! Liu Mao actually dared to stuff the corpse into this mound!”

“What? How is that possible?” Only then did Li Chou finally understand. Propping himself up halfway from the roof tiles, he peered across at the mound, only to be swiftly yanked back by Chen Shu. This time, even though his cheek smudged with fine dust dislodged by his haste amid the movement, he paid it no heed. He turned to face the two, his expression one of utter shock, and stammered, “It seems… it really does look… that mound does appear looser and fuller than it was the other day… though it had some things piled on top…”

“Moreover,” Chen Shu added after a moment, pressing her lower lip between her teeth and then scratching her head contemplatively, “the color of the earth there is notably darker than the soil nearby. It’s obvious that it’s freshly-turned dirt. Yet, even if we’ve guessed Liu Mao’s trick, and the mound is right before us, within reach… it’s still ultimately impossible for us to truly dig it open and see clearly—”

“That’s easy enough,” Yan Ji chuckled. “Since Liu Mao acted in secret, the guards in this courtyard certainly aren’t fully aware of the details. All we need is a bit of misdirection to lure the tiger away from the mountain. Lure Liu Mao out, and as for the remaining guards? Few would ever truly watch some little corner of the courtyard with diligence. Operating under their very noses? Easier than snapping your fingers.”

“‘Misdirection’? ‘Lure the tiger away’? Don’t you dare come up with some harebrained scheme again,” Li Chou said, frowning.

Yan Ji glanced sideways at Li Chou, his eyes gleaming as light seemed to dawn on him. “Who cares if it’s harebrained as long as it works? All we need is for someone to go over and call Liu Mao out of the magistracy. And the reason’s sitting right here: tell him that while searching outside the city walls this afternoon, the target was genuinely spotted! Urge him to hurry and take men there, or the culprit might just slip away—”

“—That is a good tactic,” Li Chou admitted. Propping himself up on one elbow, he stroked his chin, pondering deeply. “It not only lures Liu Mao away but also tricks him into taking a good number of soldiers with him. Moreover, it’s an open scheme. Even if he sees through it, Liu Mao, committed to his own intentions, would still necessarily go to check outside the city first. But… who goes?”

As the last two words fell, it was as if the very dust upon the eaves stilled along with it.

The part of the roof where the three crouched faced directly into the setting sun. Evening sunlight, washing the storm-scarred Diancang Pass in a mantle of fiery hues, spilled over the eaves in a dazzling blaze of gold, mimicking the brilliance of sunrise. The muted murmur of distant townsfolk blended with the faint shimmering of cooking fires beyond the city walls, painting a picture burgeoning with vitality. Li Chou idly traced his jawline, leisurely drinking in this vista for a moment longer before turning his gaze back to them.

Silence met him. Not because the other two hadn’t heard his question, but because both Chen Shu and Yan Ji had turned their wide-eyed, expectant gazes fully upon him, wordless but speaking volumes.

The faint smile slid off Li Chou’s face immediately.

“…You couldn’t possibly mean for me to go?”

“Well,” Yan Ji countered smoothly, “surely you don’t intend for Miss Chen to cross that thunderous path?”

Li Chou fell silent. Bathed in the vast radiant glow of the sunset, he shifted slightly and found himself meeting Chen Shu’s large, expressive eyes. Her gaze, filled with palpable hope, locked onto his, and slowly, deliberately, she blinked at him.

——

How the noble Hero Li, Li Chou, discarded his customary reserve and delivered a colossal lie before the magistracy gates without so much as a flicker of anxiety is another tale for another time. Suffice it to say, the remaining two souls upon the eaves not only reclined in comfort, like kings awaiting their catch, but were also treated to a first-rate performance. The occasional frustrated glance Li Chou managed to flick upward at them only added exquisite savor to this privileged moment of calm aloft.

Just as they had anticipated, Liu Mao barely exchanged a few words with Li Chou before losing his composure. He hastily assembled the yamen runners within the compound, along with his own contingent of guard soldiers, and the whole mass surged toward the city’s edge.

The formerly bustling magistracy courtyard was abruptly emptied of the vast majority of its occupants. The few clerks left behind to man the gates or tend to paperwork were utterly absorbed in their immediate tasks. Forget noticing the small mound; even if someone did suddenly think to patrol the compound, the mound remained cunningly ensconced within a blind spot in their field of view, rendering it entirely invisible.

Thus, Chen Shu and Yan Ji, abandoning their previous caution, dropped from the eaves front-and-back, strode openly across the courtyard to stand boldly before the mound. They even casually procured two spades conveniently lying neglected nearby.

Sweeping aside the seven or eight odds-and-ends littering the mound’s surface, Chen Shu gently retrieved the plain cloth shroud that belonged to Shen Jie. After a moment’s thought, she simply tied it firmly around her own head, using it to bind her loosened locks securely in place.

Yan Ji then gave her a wordless nod, jerking his chin towards the dirt in quiet signal. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t hesitate, driving the first spade firmly into the earth.

And that first spadeful, indeed, struck something solid.

The sheer strength in Chen Shu’s arms required no detailing. Moreover, after only a couple of days, how deep could Liu Mao possibly have buried the body? Before Yan Ji’s spade even sank halfway into the earth, resistance abruptly halted its progress.

Chen Shu simply angled her spade, levered it carefully, and lifted a substantial portion of the loose, soft soil cleanly away. She moved the heavy mass with unnerving ease—without so much as a muffled thud. The corpse entombed within the earth was thus revealed.

First the man’s left chest, then, bit by methodical bit, shovel-by-shovel, the bulk of the dirt encasing the body was scraped away by Chen Shu, until the entire form lay fully exposed before them.

Clad in torn convict garb, its limbs twisted grotesquely, its skin swollen and pale. As Chen Shu, finally proceeding with utmost care, brushed aside the clinging mud from its face and hauled the body fully out of the pit, tangled strands of river algae—clearly borne there and deposited by the floodwaters—could still be seen adhering to the corpse.

Halfway through lifting him out, Chen Shu abruptly sensed something amiss. She looked up to find Yan Ji leaning against the purloined spade, simply watching motionlessly from the side. He hadn’t uttered a sound, utterly captivated, as if spellbound, by the unearthed body. Frowning, she hoisted the corpse in her grasp slightly higher, shaking off some additional clinging sludge. She was just about to call Yan Ji’s name when he finally spoke.

“Wait—” Yan Ji said, breaking his long silence. For a man who was ordinarily just as impetuous as Chen Shu, this extraordinary quiet had hinted at inner turmoil. But now, after the initial call that halted Chen Shu’s movement, he didn’t immediately continue. His breathing hitched, as if painfully surmounting an internal obstacle. Then, inhaling sharply, he finally managed to articulate, “This man… he was one of ours. From Linbo Prefecture.”