PCA Chapter 171

Feng Yiming had returned to the capital again.

 

Supposedly, he was back to report on his duties, but it wasn’t a special occasion or holiday, so what duties was he reporting on?

 

Su Cen watched as this person brought boxes full of gifts into Xingqing Palace, only to be mercilessly driven out by Li Shi.

 

Feng Yiming wasn’t upset by this. When one plan failed, he simply devised another. He gathered his things and turned to seek refuge with Su Cen.

 

Su Cen, seeing that Feng Yiming had traveled all the way from Yangzhou and was still covered in dust from the journey without having had a chance to clean up, momentarily softened his heart and nodded. This turned out to be a mistake he would long regret.

 

Indeed, showing mercy to one’s enemies is cruelty to oneself.

 

So every day when Su Cen returned from the Dali Temple, he would find Feng Yiming in his courtyard, sitting in his lounge chair, drinking his tea, directing his servants, with an air of entitlement.

 

Feng Yiming was a northerner working in the south, fond of noodles and heavy flavors. He constantly urged Ah Fu to add more salt and spice to the dishes. Su Cen, however, was a true southerner accustomed to light flavors. That very evening, his throat was burned hoarse, and he couldn’t speak properly for several days.

 

Feng Yiming liked strong tea, going through several ounces of the Su family’s tea leaves each day. Su Cen tried a cup once and couldn’t sleep the entire night.

 

After several days, Su Cen grew accustomed to it, pretending this person didn’t exist in his home. The two led separate lives, eating two sets of meals, drinking two types of tea, occasionally managing to peacefully coexist in the same room, sitting together in the courtyard watching the autumn clouds disperse—quite harmonious, actually.

 

Su Cen, holding his Biluochun tea, asked: “With you constantly running to the capital like this, aren’t you afraid someone will report you for abandoning your post?”

 

Feng Yiming took a sip of his Tieguanyin tea and replied, “Whoever wants to report me, let them. It would be great if they called me back to the capital. I’d be happy to have a leisurely life.”

 

Su Cen laughed softly: “You’re just confident that Yangzhou can’t do without you.”

 

The salt monopoly decree had been abolished just a year ago. Feng Yiming now served as the Transport Commissioner of Salt and Iron for Jianghuai, overseeing salt, iron, and canal transport for the entire Huainan region. Huainan was a gathering place for merchants, with salt profits being especially crucial. Since tax revenues had surged at the end of last year, thoroughly replenishing the national treasury, Feng Yiming could now be said to be fearless, no longer the minor official who once needed to desperately impeach others to protect himself.

 

Su Cen looked at the last crimson glow on the horizon and suddenly asked: “You’re still so unwilling to accept it?”

 

Feng Yiming smiled, “If it were you, could you accept it?”

 

Su Cen frowned, silently contemplating until the last bit of light disappeared on the horizon, then softly said: “No, I couldn’t.”

 

“I asked him, since we’re so similar, why did he choose you?” Feng Yiming held a cup of completely cooled tea and smiled lightly. “Guess what he said?”

 

Su Cen looked up. He remembered accidentally overhearing a conversation between Feng Yiming and Li Shi in Yangzhou, with Feng Yiming questioning hysterically—why him?

 

He had left early then and hadn’t heard the conclusion. Since it wasn’t meant for him, he hadn’t wanted to know.

 

But now that the words came from Feng Yiming’s mouth, he found himself curiously interested.

 

Feng Yiming’s smile carried a hint of sorrow: “He said, ‘Not similar.'”

 

Su Cen was taken aback: “How are we not similar?”

 

“I also wanted to know how we’re not similar,” Feng Yiming shook his head self-mockingly. “That’s why I came to see for myself, to find out exactly where our differences lie.”

 

Su Cen smiled lightly, raising his cup forward, “Have you figured it out now?”

 

Feng Yiming also extended his teacup. The completely cooled Tieguanyin and Biluochun lightly clinked with a “ping” sound, sending ripples through the water. Feng Yiming smiled gently, “Yes, we are quite different.”

 

Getting Tian Pingzhi’s case reopened had cost Su Cen tremendous effort. Given Zhang Jun’s temperament, he would never touch a case that might step on landmines. Years ago, this very case had put him and his teacher in danger, and all their investigations had been erased. If it had only involved the Secret Door, that would have been one thing, but it seemed to implicate figures in the court as well. Pulling out a radish brings soil with it—he didn’t know how many people might be connected to this.

 

Moreover, the case had been buried for so many years. Those in the know were no longer around, and even the persistent Old Master Tian had been laid to rest. He truly couldn’t understand why there was any necessity to continue investigating this case.

 

Su Cen disagreed. A case, a life, revealing the truth to the world was a comfort to the living and respect for the dead. No matter how many years had passed, it shouldn’t be shelved and forgotten, gathering dust.

 

Zhang Jun, tormented by Su Cen’s persistence, took leave and hid at home for a few days. But Su Cen tracked him down, using the pretext of visiting a sick friend, preaching so much that even someone without an illness would have developed one.

 

Zhang Jun, having no choice, finally nodded in agreement, but with three conditions: the investigation could proceed, but it must be done secretly; he must be kept informed of every step; and once the situation became uncontrollable, Su Cen must listen to him and stop immediately.

 

Su Cen wouldn’t have uttered half a “no.” That very night, he stayed up late integrating all the clues, and concluded that to build a case, they needed a starting point—they first needed to find Tian Pingzhi’s body.

 

Back then, after Tian Pingzhi’s death, it was treated as a sudden heart attack, and he was buried directly behind the examination hall. Chen Guanglu had the body exhumed to investigate the case, and the coroner confirmed he had died from asthma. The case eventually faded away inconclusively. The only person who knew the truth, Lord Chen, had passed away, and the coroner’s whereabouts were unknown. So where had Tian Pingzhi’s body gone?

 

The Dali Temple had an ice cellar specifically for storing bodies, but it was only for temporary storage. After so many years, the body certainly wouldn’t still be there.

 

However, since the case remained unsolved, following Lord Chen’s logic, the body wouldn’t have been casually disposed of. It must still be somewhere, waiting for the investigation to continue.

 

Where would Lord Chen have hidden the body when he angrily left the capital, determined to die in Lu Family Village?

 

If he were Lord Chen, where would he have hidden the body?

 

The more he thought about it, the clearer a certain place became in his mind. Since the case wasn’t closed, it was left for future generations to continue investigating, so everything would return to its most original place—

 

The body was still at the examination hall!

 

Understanding this, Su Cen suddenly felt enlightened. Early the next day, he took leave from the Dali Temple and returned home to change into casual clothes. Hearing they were going to exhume a body, Feng Yiming, bored at home, eagerly joined in. Su Cen figured an extra person meant extra help, and it would also keep Feng Yiming from irritating him by idling around at home, so he brought him along.

 

Speaking of corpses, they had to involve a certain person. Before going to the examination hall, they first detoured to the Imperial Tutor’s residence and extracted Ning Santong, who was enjoying tea and music.

 

Unexpectedly, they met a familiar face at the Imperial Tutor’s residence.

 

Shen Yugui, who had been rescued from Liu Kang, had been brought back to Ning Santong’s home for treatment and was later adopted as a granddaughter by the old master Ning. She had been living with the Ning family since. By coincidence, when Su Cen and the others arrived, they encountered Shen Yugui painting in the back garden.

 

Shen Yugui had previously dressed as a man for revenge, appearing cold and frail. Now in women’s attire wrapped in silk, her waist was accentuated, revealing the graceful figure of a girl. She looked well-cared for at the Imperial Tutor’s residence, her complexion no longer as pale as before, with some vitality now.

 

Seeing Su Cen, Shen Yugui’s face lit up with delight. She immediately put down her brush, stepped forward, and gave a slight bow to Su Cen, smiling gently like a white lotus slowly blooming, “Benefactor.”

 

Su Cen smiled helplessly: “I’ve told you not to call me benefactor anymore.”

 

Shen Yugui looked at Su Cen earnestly: “You have shown kindness to my Shen family. This title of benefactor is well-deserved.”

 

Su Cen smiled, not wanting to dwell on this point, and turned to look at the painting paper on the table, “You can paint again?”

 

“My right hand still doesn’t work properly,” Shen Yugui looked helplessly at her right hand, where a protruding scar ran across her wrist. The tendons there had been severed, and it could never be as nimble as before.

 

“So now I’m practicing with my left hand. It’s not very skilled yet. I can casually draw to pass the time, but it’s not presentable.”

 

Feng Yiming moved closer to look at Shen Yugui’s “casual drawing” and frowned, “If this is what you call casual drawing, then what we draw must be like dog scratches.”

 

On the paper was a free-handed chrysanthemum that had just bloomed after a severe frost, yet its posture remained proud, completely unbowed by the harsh conditions. The brushwork was unrestrained, vividly displaying the flower’s sparse, cold, and wild spirit. Even if someone claimed it was the work of an accomplished master, few would doubt it.

 

When Su Cen saw what was on the painting, he had a different feeling and smiled lightly: “You’re using your Shen family painting technique.”

 

Shen Yugui smiled faintly: “Before, I was always imitating others’ works. Now I can finally paint what I truly want. As you once said, no matter how good an imitation is, it’s still just a copy. Without the state of mind during creation, the soul of the painting is missing. Now that I’m painting my own things, whether beautiful or ugly, there’s always something of myself in them. They’re no longer merely lifeless objects.”

 

Su Cen nodded. The chrysanthemum in the painting exuded a vibrant energy that was indeed incomparable to her previous imitations.

 

After chatting with Shen Yugui for a while, Ning Santong finally arrived, elegantly dressed and graceful in manner. Seeing Feng Yiming, he smiled, “Well, Yangzhou must be very peaceful these days. What wind blew you here?”

 

Feng Yiming returned the smile, “Not as leisurely and carefree as you.”

 

This was indeed true. Ning Santong didn’t pursue official advancement and held a nominal position at the Dali Temple. When there were cases, he would stay at the temple; when there weren’t, he would wander around teahouses and taverns. With his status, others didn’t dare casually order him around, and gradually he had become Su Cen’s dedicated coroner.

 

Ning Santong said, “We should invite Zheng Yang another day to welcome you,” then looked at Su Cen and asked, “Do we have a new case?”

 

“Not exactly a new case,” Su Cen briefly explained the previous situation, and finally said, “The case is somewhat thorny and may involve powerful figures at court. Master Zhang wants us to investigate quietly, without making it public. Are you willing to take it on?”

 

“You really never rest, do you?” Ning Santong couldn’t help but smile. “If I don’t accept, who else could you find?”

 

Su Cen bowed with a smile, “Then I’ll trouble you.”

 

Ning Santong retrieved his large wooden box, and after everything was prepared, the three set off together. On the way to the examination hall, Ning Santong said, “What a coincidence. More than ten years ago, it was Lord Chen and my master who handled this case. Now it’s you and me. Back then, some resigned from office, others left their positions, and the case was shelved. I wonder if we’ll have better luck.”

 

Su Cen said: “The will of those who came before us will bless us.”

 

Though he didn’t usually believe in ghosts or spirits, he inexplicably believed that Lord Chen’s spirit in heaven would surely want them to solve the case and bring peace to the deceased.

 

The couplets written by Lin Zongqing still hung on both sides of the entrance to the Chang’an examination hall. The hall was used for imperial examinations every three years and was usually tightly closed. Once, thousands of scholars gathered here, holding a brush and carrying thousands of books in their hearts, sighing about the country and the world, writing about mountains and rivers. That glorious scene seemed like yesterday, but now the entrance was deserted, even the sugar water stalls that once stood there had disappeared. Su Cen momentarily felt disoriented. Back then, he had started his official career from this place, and now returning here felt like a cycle, as if fate had destined him to come back.

 

Su Cen took out the key borrowed from the Ministry of Rites, unlocked and pushed open the vermilion gates, and entered the examination hall. Both he and Feng Yiming had emerged from here, and a sense of familiarity washed over them, stirring countless emotions.

 

Ning Santong, who had never been inside before, muttered: “Why are these rooms so small? They’re like cages.”

 

Su Cen smiled, “They are indeed cages.”

 

Rows upon rows of examination cells stood there, truly like cages. Some who came out of these cages soared high into the sky, while others were locked here for life, never finding a way out despite lifelong efforts.

 

After passing through the examination cells to the back of the compound, where several jujube trees lined the wall, the three of them were suddenly startled before they even got close.

 

“Not good.” Su Cen hurried forward, and as he saw the scene before him clearly, his expression gradually became grave.

 

The ground was pockmarked with holes. Near one of the jujube trees, a human-shaped pit had been dug out, with freshly turned soil piled to one side.

 

 

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