Chapter 8: The Secret Letter

Frost crept into the cracks between the bricks. It was deep autumn, and the passageway had begun to chill to the bone.

A few ancient oil lamps flickered dimly on the wall, casting long, despairing shadows from the rough wooden bars.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

The harsh clatter of wooden clappers echoed through the corridor. The night guard carried a half-worn wooden bucket filled with thin porridge so watery one could see shadows reflected within. Irritated, he kicked the wooden bars. “Still playing dead? Dinner time!”

A midwife holding a wind lantern hurried over, pulling her collar tight and frowning. “Move faster. This cursed place will freeze you to death.”

The guard muttered “Yes, yes,” but deliberately scraped his long-handled wooden ladle against the bucket, producing an unpleasant screech. He handed out chipped coarse pottery bowls through each barred window with rough, careless motions, splashing cold porridge onto the withered hands of the female prisoners without a second thought.

His eyes flicked to a solitary figure locked away alone. He sneered. “Oh? A new guest? Here, I’ll add a little extra for you.” With that, he deliberately waved a piece of vegetable in front of the person huddled in the corner.

“Don’t tease her. She was brought in by the magistrate. Hurry up.” The midwife whispered cautiously, patting his arm to urge him on.

The guard clicked his tongue, glanced around once more, then fell silent.

The thin porridge was ladled into bowls, mixing with the foul, stagnant air, all sealed inside the moldy, filthy prison cell.

A draft slipped in, intensifying the cold. The flickering lamp shadows danced ghost-like against the damp, vapor-filled stone walls.

At the same time, in the Xu residence, Xu Qi sat dazed beneath the lamp. Her maid had just closed the latticed window tightly and reminded her to go to bed, but Xu Qi waved her away with a brush in hand.

The events of the day lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.

It was perhaps the most tense and thrilling experience of her life. Closing her eyes, the restless corpse of Zhao Qing still haunted her vision, so near she could almost reach out and touch it. Sleep would not come easily tonight.

With this upheaval, Zhiwei’s whereabouts remained unknown, growing only more elusive.

Zhao Qing, as told by Ming Liu, had borrowed something from the Zhou estate and promised to return it unchanged in a few days. If that referred to Zhiwei, then would she truly come back after a few days?

Had she been right to alert Tan Jiuding prematurely? What if the villains who silenced Zhao Qing were now too terrified to investigate and in desperation harmed Zhiwei?

And that strange Chunpo Mountain temple—was it really just a drunken jest from Zhao Qing, or something more? The answer remained uncertain.

Xu Qi lowered her gaze to two copper coins she had recently rubbings of.

She had just weighed them on a small scale; both were underweight and of inferior alloy—undeniable counterfeit coins.

Such privately minted coins were common, nothing rare. Everyone could have a few in their pockets. But these two shared exactly the same weight and looked like they came from the same batch, or at least the same mint.

Moreover, they bore identical notches and similar rust patterns, perhaps more than mere coincidence.

“Sigh, why did he have to die...” she sighed once more. If Zhao Qing were still alive, she could have pried many useful secrets from him.

Unfortunately, Ming Liu knew far less than she expected, indicating Zhao Qing had deceived her as well, merely exploiting her position at the Zhou estate.

Why had they abducted Zhiwei?

Clearly, this was no simple human trafficking case.

Could it really be because of Zhiwei’s exquisite embroidery? Many embroiderers were exceptional; her uncle’s Inspection Bureau had plenty of master artisans devoted to imperial textiles.

Besides, the Zhou family kept Zhiwei hidden well, with no embroidery leaking out. How then did the thieves know of her skill? Was it Ming Liu who told them? Xu Qi found it odd; Ming Liu seemed both loving and fearful toward her brother Zhao Qing. The siblings had been separated for years and were not particularly close. Would Ming Liu have willingly mentioned Zhiwei to Zhao Qing? Something felt amiss.

No, the more she thought, the more confused she became.

What troubled her even more were several letters she had ignored for nearly a month, tucked under some books on her desk’s corner.

She sighed deeply, took them out, and spread them under the lamp’s glow.

Her father’s sharp handwriting stared back at her, each letter like a blade hanging over her head—

“Inspector Tan Jiuding, by imperial order, will soon arrive in Suzhou to conduct investigations in Southern Zhili. He is betrothed to you and will undoubtedly come to pay respects at your residence... Once affairs are settled, prepare carriage and follow his official vessel northward without delay.”

“If he inquires about affairs in the capital, merely say, ‘My father is busy with official duties. I live quietly and dare not speak frivolously.’ Do not elaborate.”

“Tan Jiuding’s inquiries are extensive... You are intelligent, but young minds are easily swayed by kindness. In exceptional times, always keep your family’s interests foremost.”

“Observe his travel logs and visitors quietly, note whom he questions in each county. Report any anomalies immediately.”

“This concerns the fate of our family—be cautious, very cautious.”

She did not understand. Why had her father promised her this marriage? And if so, why did he urge her to secretly monitor her fiancé?

After all, Tan Jiuding was her father’s subordinate. Had her father not recommended him for this inspection post within the Censorate? If her father distrusted him, why endorse him in the first place?

What was her father hiding?

Xu Qi’s brows furrowed tightly. At last, she crumpled the family letters and threw them into the fire pit.

Several days passed in seeming calm.

The Zhou family remained clouded in gloom; the case was still unresolved.

During this time, Xu Qi returned several times to the nameless hermitage, each time finding nothing. The incense had ceased burning, and no one appeared in the strange old house connected to the back gate.

It was as if everything had been sealed away on the day Zhao Qing died.

Early one morning, as Xu Qi prepared to visit several docks where the river gangs might gather, her maid reported that officials from the government had arrived at the front gate with urgent news.

Xu Qi’s eyes brightened, and she hurried to meet them.

The officer seemed somewhat familiar, like one she had seen at the Zhou estate before. A carriage waited behind him.

“Greetings, Third Miss. The magistrate has sent me to deliver a message to you.” The officer smiled slyly, bowing with oily politeness.

Unexpectedly, his first news was: Ming Liu was dead, having succumbed to illness in prison.

“Nonsense! Only a few days passed. How could she have died of illness so quickly?”

“Er, please calm yourself, noble lady. I do not know the details. The jailer said it was dysentery, severe vomiting and diarrhea. Even with a doctor summoned, she could not be saved. She lasted less than two days.”

Xu Qi was furious and shocked. Even a child could see that Ming Liu’s death was no ordinary matter.

That shadowy figure lurking behind the walls crept once more into her thoughts.

Before she could dwell on it further, the officer added that Tan Jiuding was waiting for her at a tea stall outside the city, urging her to depart immediately.

“What’s so urgent?”

“Third Miss, the magistrate did not explain directly. He only mentioned the words ‘mountain temple.’ That should be enough for you.”

Chunpo Mountain temple? Could it be that Tan Jiuding had really found the place?

Xu Qi’s heart surged with both fear and hope. She asked no more, calling to her maid, “Tell my uncle I have urgent business and will be leaving. Do not wait for me at dinner.” With that, she boarded the carriage and set off.