"Three thousand taels! Are you sure?!" Qian Jing's phoenix eyes lit up, sweeping away his usual roguish indifference. He stared intently at Zhuo Qing. Indeed, he was a slave to money—at the mere mention of it, his spirit came alive. Zhuo Qing gave a lazy nod, prompting Qian Jing to exclaim, "I'm in!"
Three thousand taels! That was a fortune! Even split three ways, each person could walk away with a thousand! This deal was too good to pass up.
Turning to the two others—who remained composed and silent—Zhuo Qing asked, "Ao Tian, Ye Mei, what about you?"
They were her true targets today.
"I have no time," came the hoarse, icy voice. Silver strands draped slightly over his face, his demeanor utterly disinterested.
Alright, no need to press him. His refusal was written all over his face.
Ye Mei's golden mask concealed her expression, leaving only a pair of cold, penetrating eyes. Zhuo Qing couldn't read her thoughts and could only ask, "Ye Mei, what about you?"
She had her doubts—was Ye Mei even capable of speech? She'd encountered her five or six times, and the woman had never uttered a single word.
Ye Mei didn't decline immediately. Her eyes lowered, expression cold and silent.
Qian Jing pouted and said, "Senior sister, didn't you already capture the fugitive you were chasing? You've got nothing pressing at hand—why not take this case? The murderer has slain four innocent women. This villain must be brought to justice!"
From the first moment he met her, she had always carried a cold gaze, yet her heart burned with a fierce sense of justice. The ones she hunted were all beyond redemption. Money would never move her—but sin, perhaps, would.
As expected, her icy eyes flickered faintly. Ye Mei gave the slightest nod.
Zhuo Qing secretly exhaled—this counted as a gain for the day.
A soft knock sounded at the door. The group inside exchanged glances. Zhuo Qing said quietly, "Come in."
She had specifically instructed the innkeeper not to let anyone disturb them. Who could it be?
Contrary to the gentle knock, the door was briskly pushed open, and a slender figure leaned casually against the doorway.
Zhuo Qing chuckled, "Why are you here?"
She had deliberately left her to sleep longer, only for her to come looking.
After some rest, Gu Yun looked much better—her complexion no longer stiff and pale. She smiled lightly.
"I went to the Prime Minister's residence to find you. Lou Xiyan said you'd come here."
"Something wrong?"
"Yes."
She nodded but didn't step in. Waving a hand, she backed away. "You finish first."
Zhuo Qing smiled. "We're done. Come in after."
Inside, Gu Yun didn't sit. Instead, she went straight to the point.
"Your autopsy report states that the direction and length of the knife wound on Wu Xu's chest differs from the previous three victims. Doesn't this obvious discrepancy suggest the murderer might not be the same person?"
Gu Yun was as straightforward as ever.
Zhuo Qing shook her head, analyzing calmly.
"All I can say is that the killer's method has changed. That alone doesn't prove it's a different person. The first three victims' wounds suggest a right-handed attacker. Wu Xu's wound appears to have been inflicted with the left hand."
Gu Yun arched an eyebrow. "Left hand?"
"Yes."
Left hand… If she hadn't seen wrong that day, he was left-handed.
Leaning against the door frame, Gu Yun smiled mysteriously.
"Suddenly, someone comes to mind—someone very suspicious. We should have a chat with him."
A lead? Zhuo Qing nodded crisply and rose.
Turning to Qian Jing and Ye Mei, she said, "I'll call on you when I need assistance. For now, I'm leaving."
"Wait."
As she and Gu Yun reached the door, the hoarse voice called out again.
Zhuo Qing turned. Ao Tian's expression was as impassive as ever.
With a cool tone, he tossed out four words: "I'm coming too."
Qian Jing looked shocked. Even Ye Mei's cold gaze flickered with surprise.
Their senior never changed his mind. What made him relent this time?
Both glanced toward the casually poised woman leaning against the door, exuding sharp grace—was it because of her?
Before a modest little courtyard, a peculiar sight unfolded. Regardless of looks, a cluster of people crowding before a narrow door was an odd picture.
The door opened slowly. Seeing the group outside, the man inside froze, then asked uncertainly, "Lord Lü, is there something wrong?"
Lü Jin gave a sheepish smile and recited his rehearsed excuse:
"You were the first to touch the body. There are some details I'd like to verify with you."
Truthfully, he had no idea what was going on. That afternoon, Miss Qingmo had suddenly sent word for him and Cheng Hang to visit Jiang Xin's home—the coroner. They came in confusion, only to find Qingling there as well, alongside three famed bounty hunters.
He was completely at a loss, yet still had to knock and request entry.
Couldn't they have asked him at the yamen?
Now that everyone was crowding the entrance, Jiang Xin could only open the door and say with a smile,
"Very well. Come in."
Her home was small. Ye Mei remained outside, aloof. Qian Jing leaned casually against the door.
Bounty hunters caught fugitives—they had no place in investigations.
Yet Ao Tian, normally the least interested in meddling, entered the room today.
Ye Mei and Qian Jing exchanged another glance. Their senior really was acting strange.
Inside, Jiang Xin and Lü Jin sat at a small round table.
With no clear direction, Lü Jin could only ask general questions about the case.
"When did you arrive? Who else was there?"
Jiang Xin answered calmly,
"I arrived at the quarter-hour after dawn. At the time, Master Wu and a few servants were in the main hall. No one was in the inner room, though I can't say whether someone entered before me."
Gu Yun entered the inner chamber, her eyes instinctively scanning every corner.
Though she said little, Cheng Hang could tell she was searching for clues. Her eyes widened slightly as she scrutinized the surroundings, but everything was in plain sight.
"Did you notice anything unusual during your examination?"
"I'd been in the inner room for less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense when you arrived, Lord Lü. I saw nothing out of place."
Lü Jin continued his aimless questioning for a while, running out of ideas.
He glanced at Gu Yun—Jiang Xin followed his gaze. She was squatting by the door, doing something.
Jiang Xin's face darkened slightly. "What are you doing?"
Rising awkwardly, Gu Yun shrugged.
"Nothing. Just looking around."
Clearly losing patience, Jiang Xin said, "Do you have any more questions, Lord Lü?"
"Uh… no." He genuinely didn't.
Zhuo Qing, who had been standing silently behind him, suddenly picked up his notepad—the one he had been scribbling in earlier—and handed it to Jiang Xin.
"This is the record of your testimony. If there's nothing amiss, please sign it."
"Why?" Jiang Xin asked, confused. Since when did the Ministry of Justice require signatures for questioning?
What if the officer misrecorded, or deliberately altered the facts? That wouldn't be fair to the person questioned.
Zhuo Qing frowned slightly, but her voice remained calm.
"It's just to confirm that these are your own words—not something we fabricated."
That made sense. Though she'd never heard of it before, Jiang Xin found it reasonable.
She picked up the brush and signed her name.
Zhuo Qing noted her grip—left-handed.
So she was a lefty. But… did that make her the killer?
Zhuo Qing glanced at Gu Yun, just in time to see her take out a blank sheet of paper and hand it to Jiang Xin.
"There's one more thing. Take a look at this—have you seen it before?"
Jiang Xin glanced at the sketch and shook her head.
"No, I haven't."
Her face betrayed nothing—but her shoulders had twitched. She was nervous.
Staring at her intently, Gu Yun watched for the slightest tremor in her expression.
With a cold voice, she asked again,
"Are you sure?"
Jiang Xin nodded again. "Positive."
Leaning closer, hands on the wooden table, Gu Yun locked eyes with her, voice low and crisp:
"You—are—lyi—…"