PCA Chapter 98

“Master! Master…”

 

The yamen runners called out several times before bringing Su Cen back to reality. He stared intently at Cao Wei in the corner for a moment and felt somewhat dazed.

 

“W-What happened?” one of them asked nervously. “We’ve been guarding outside; no one came in.”

 

Su Cen collected himself and rolled up his sleeves to examine things personally.

 

“Could it really be a ghost?” some murmured quietly. “It’s truly an evil spirit seeking revenge; otherwise, how could someone die so mysteriously?”

 

“He just admitted it; he killed all thirty-two members of the Shen family! Surely Shen Cun’s ghost won’t let him off!”

 

“Tsk tsk tsk; no wonder he’s so scared; turns out he really has a guilty conscience.”

 

Su Cen ignored their idle chatter and carefully checked for a pulse first to confirm that Cao Wei was indeed dead before examining his features closely. His face was pale; his brow furrowed tightly—clearly showing he had been very frightened at death.

 

As the candlelight flickered again, it reflected something glistening at Cao Wei’s mouth.

 

Su Cen’s brow furrowed slightly as he ordered, “Bring me a lamp.”

 

The yamen runner behind him immediately handed over a lamp. As light flooded in, Su Cen recognized that what hung at Cao Wei’s mouth looked like drool.

 

The yamen runner pointed out: “My Lord, there’s some on his clothes too.”

 

Su Cen nodded and pinched a bit of it between his fingers before bringing it close to his nose for a sniff.

 

“My Lord…” The runner holding the lamp looked surprised. This renowned Lord Su from Dali Temple was someone he knew about—this year’s top scholar from Suzhou who had grown up accustomed to luxury. Although he had never acted arrogantly towards them, his every move still exuded an air of superiority. He hadn’t expected such an esteemed figure would be so unrefined as to personally examine a corpse and not even flinch at touching saliva.

 

Unbeknownst to Su Cen about these thoughts swirling through the yamen runner’s mind, he fell into contemplation while looking at Cao Wei’s corpse. The pale complexion and saliva were signs of poisoning; however, Cao Wei hadn’t eaten anything for over half a day. With Dali Temple personnel surrounding this room tightly without anyone entering, how could Cao Wei have been poisoned?

 

After a moment’s reflection, Su Cen suddenly asked: “Did you smell anything?”

 

“Ah?” The runner paused for a moment before sniffing around in the air. “It seems like… garlic? Did Cao Wei eat garlic?”

 

“He spent all afternoon at court; as soon as he got home we arrived—there wasn’t even time for him to eat,” Su Cen replied coldly. “If he’s scared enough that he can eat something at all, then he’s impressive; most likely he only nibbled on his own fingers.”

 

Suddenly recalling something important, Su Cen picked up Cao Wei’s hand under the lamp’s light for inspection. All ten fingers were gnawed down unevenly; between them lay what looked like something hidden.

 

Su Cen’s heart raced as he turned back: “Put out the lamp.”

 

The yamen runner immediately followed orders and extinguished it.

 

The room fell into pitch darkness once more. As everyone adjusted their eyes to this darkness again, that faint green light from earlier began to re-emerge from the painting.

 

When these people rushed in earlier amidst chaos they hadn’t noticed that when lit up by lamps earlier they saw what appeared like several heads of corpses emerging from that painting—except for Su Cen; everyone present felt their hearts drop in terror and retreated screaming: “Ghost shadow! It’s a ghost shadow!”

 

Su Cen ignored the commotion and carefully observed the changes in Cao Wei’s corpse. After a while, he noticed that the saliva at the corner of Cao Wei’s mouth was slowly emitting a faint glow. When he lifted Cao Wei’s hand, he saw that there was also some residue between his fingers.

 

Su Cen slowly stood up and walked towards the painting, moving against the direction of the crowd. Under their terrified gazes, he reached out and passed his hand through the ghostly head in the painting.

 

As Su Cen felt the slick texture on his fingertips, he took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands clean and turned back, saying, “Light the lamps; I already know what’s going on.”

 

With the painting and Cao Wei’s corpse in tow, Su Cen hurried back to the Dali Temple. Upon entering, he saw Ning Santong approaching him with a bright smile, saying excitedly, “Brother Su, I know how they died!”

 

Su Cen rarely resisted this form of address and nodded in acknowledgment. “I know too; it was white phosphorus.”

 

“You…” Ning Santong looked incredulous. “How did you know?”

 

“Legend has it that during Emperor Wu’s reign, an alchemist named Li Shaojun could ‘transform cinnabar into gold.’ After one of his alchemical experiments, he discovered a waxy substance at the bottom of the furnace that emitted a cold light at night—flammable, highly toxic, and smelling of garlic.” Su Cen sighed. “We should have figured this out earlier. Someone coated the painting with white phosphorus. Xu Youhuai, Liu Kang, and Cao Wei all believed that treasure from the Shen family was hidden within the painting. Naturally, they would examine it closely, and white phosphorus would rub off on their sleeves. Once exposed to an open flame, it would ignite quickly, explaining why Xu Youhuai and Liu Kang burned so completely.”

 

Ning Santong nodded. “I found traces of phosphorus powder on Xu Youhuai’s fabric scraps; that’s how I deduced they died from white phosphorus. Unfortunately, areas like underarms and groins are less likely to come into contact with outside objects, so there was very little phosphorus present; it took quite some effort.” He glanced at the other corpse being brought in. “Was this one burned too?”

 

Su Cen shook his head. “He died from poisoning.”

 

“Poisoned?” Ning Santong was taken aback and couldn’t help but laugh. “How did he get poisoned? Did he lick the painting?”

 

“Knowing that Xu Youhuai and Liu Kang were burned to death, he had deliberately avoided fire sources. Unfortunately—” Su Cen shook his head. “This person has a habit of biting his nails when nervous. White phosphorus is highly toxic; after spending a day biting all ten fingers clean, any residue left between his fingers entered his body, leading to his poisoning.”

 

“This killer is truly cunning to think of using white phosphorus on the painting! Only someone who covets Shen family’s treasures would fall for this trap—greed leads to self-destruction.” Ning Santong looked at Su Cen. “Do you have any leads on this killer?”

 

Su Cen bit his lip and thought for a moment. “The old man from the painting shop said that the paintings were sold on behalf of Shen family’s housekeeper who escaped by luck. Just now, Cao Wei admitted that they were responsible for killing all thirty-two members of the Shen family; it seems that the housekeeper knows something about it and is likely the biggest suspect in this case. But that old man said the housekeeper died two years ago; this still needs verification.”

 

“They killed all thirty-two members of the Shen family? Just for these few paintings?!” Ning Santong inhaled sharply. “No wonder they wanted to buy them back home when they knew they were Shen Cun’s relics—they must have had guilty consciences!”

 

Su Cen nodded and instructed the yamen runners to carry the body to the mortuary. He patted Ning Santong’s shoulder: “I trouble you again, Brother Ning; please help me with this autopsy overnight.”

 

Ning Santong stood there dumbfounded; no wonder Su Cen was so agreeable today—he had something to ask! As Su Cen turned to leave, Ning Santong finally realized what was happening and complained: “Didn’t you say he died from poisoning? What’s left to examine?”

 

“Just in case something changes,” Su Cen waved his scroll in dismissal as he headed towards the duty room.

 

Now that all three Peach Blossom paintings were gathered together, Su Cen spread them out one by one on the table. To avoid any risk of open flames igniting them, he placed the candlestick far away and carefully examined them under the dim candlelight.

 

The three paintings were skillfully done with consistent angles and orientations. The inscriptions read Wuyou Spring Equinox, Wuyou Summer Solstice, and Wuyou Autumn Equinox—corresponding to peach blossoms blooming, fruit ripening, and leaves flourishing—making it look as if they depicted a single peach tree through all four seasons.

 

Could it be that Shen Cun hid Shen family’s treasures beneath such a peach tree? Upon further thought, peach trees change every year; there’s no guarantee that next year those branches would still be there. It seemed Shen Cun wasn’t hiding treasure but rather intended for things to remain buried forever.

 

If the source wasn’t in the paintings themselves, could it be in the inscriptions?

 

The three lines of poetry were all from *The Book of Songs*, nothing suspicious there; they were dated in Wuyou year—specifically Yonglong Year 20—making it eighteen years ago now. Did something significant happen back then?

 

As he pondered this further, Su Cen couldn’t help but shake his head; how had he started probing into other people’s treasures like Xu Youhuai?

 

At that moment someone knocked on the door. Su Cen called out for them to enter and saw Qu Ling’er come in holding a food box with a cheerful smile: “Brother Su! You haven’t been back for several days! Working yourself so hard won’t earn you extra silver; what’s the point?”

 

Seeing the food box reminded Su Cen that not only had Cao Wei not eaten tonight but neither had he himself since not a single grain had passed his lips. He had been so engrossed in investigating earlier that he hadn’t realized how hungry he truly was until now.

 

Su Cen took over the food box and thought to himself that this little rascal still had some conscience left in him. He set aside the paintings and opened up the food box only to be taken aback.

 

Moments later, Su Cen shouted angrily: “Qu Ling’er!” freezing him in place as he tried to sneak away.

 

Qu Ling’er turned around sheepishly: “Su… Brother Su! I just came by to check on you while delivering food to Qi Ge… I really didn’t know you hadn’t eaten yet! This place is just too chaotic; not only do they fail to give extra pay but they don’t even provide meals! Hehe… hehe…”

 

Feeling guilty about his actions, Qu Ling’er pointed awkwardly: “Tonight Qi Ge didn’t eat much either; why don’t you just share?”

 

“Share with him?” Su Cen laughed coldly as he looked at a plate full of leftover scraps. When had he ever eaten someone else’s leftovers or suffered such indignities? He immediately slammed down the food box angrily: “So Xingqing Palace can’t even manage meals anymore? Do they expect my Su family to support them?”

 

“Indeed,” Qu Ling’er smiled with a fawning expression, his voice getting softer as he continued, “Lord Su, could you possibly give me some more silver? I’ve spent all my money this month on preparing meals for Brother Qi…”

 

“Qu Ling’er, are you counting white-eyed wolves? Are you addicted to pressing your warm face against someone’s cold buttocks?” Su Chen was furious. “With that thick skin of yours, why don’t you go build city walls? Even the Turks and Tibetans combined couldn’t break through. You have the nerve to ask me for silver, but do you have the guts to ask Qi Lin about that sword strike from back then?”

 

As soon as he finished speaking, someone who had been standing outside the door for an unknown time cleared their throat and stepped forward, placing a food box in front of Su Chen: “Master asked me to deliver a meal to Lord Su.”

 

Su Chen: “…” One shouldn’t speak ill of others behind their backs; it’s easy to be embarrassed when meeting them later.

 

This saying proved true indeed. He had just finished saying that Xingqing Palace couldn’t afford to provide meals, and immediately Li Shi proved to him that Xingqing Palace could indeed afford it.

 

The most shocked was Qu Ling’er. Since returning from Yangzhou that day, the two hadn’t stood face to face. Although he would sneak peeks at the other person every few days, the other person had never truly acknowledged him.

 

Su Chen still had some temper towards Qi Lin and spoke coolly, “Is Xingqing Palace really not providing meals anymore?”

 

Qi Lin replied without changing his expression: “No, it’s not.”

 

“Is the food from our Su family better than that of your Xingqing Palace?”

 

Qi Lin glanced at Qu Ling’er and nodded without hesitation: “It’s not bad.”

 

“Of course it’s not bad,” Su Chen said fiercely, “I have to eat your leftovers.”

 

Qi Lin cupped his hands: “I don’t deserve such praise.”

 

As uncomfortable as he was, Su Chen couldn’t let his stomach suffer. He picked up his chopsticks and said while eating, “Then I’ll go to Prince Ning one of these days to settle the meal expenses for these past few months.”

 

The implication was: I’m going to make things difficult for you, I’ll tell on you!

 

Qi Lin: “Master also said he’s grateful for Lord Su’s care all this time and was thinking of thanking you in person.”

 

The meaning behind his words: Go ahead, we’ll see if you can still get up from the master’s bed afterward.

 

Su Chen was so angry he gritted his teeth, chewing on a plate of fresh bamboo shoots with loud crunching sounds. He thought to himself, how could a Turk have such a sharp tongue?

 

Qu Ling’er watched nervously, thinking to himself, if a fight broke out, who should he help? He reluctantly began to retreat: “Lord, Lord Su, I’ll be leaving first…”

 

Qi Lin: “Wait.”

 

Su Chen: “Stop!”

 

They spoke simultaneously. Su Chen glanced at Qi Lin. He wanted the person to stop because he didn’t want Qu Ling’er to lose face in front of this man again. What was Qi Lin’s intention?

 

Qi Lin said calmly: “It’s past curfew. I’ll escort you back later.”

 

Su Chen: “?”

 

Qu Ling’er: “!”

 

Su Chen pointed to the door: “Leave now!”

 

Qu Ling’er was already in a daze, not knowing where he was. He sat down on the stool with a thud, his face red as he said, “I’ll, I’ll wait a bit longer.”

 

Su Chen almost choked on his breath. He had actually thought about helping this ungrateful wretch save face!

 

Su Chen buried his head in his food, no longer bothering with these two. Qu Ling’er picked up a painting from the table to cover his embarrassment, occasionally lifting his head from the scroll to glance at Qi Lin, quickly lowering his head again when Qi Lin looked over.

 

After a while, Qu Ling’er couldn’t help but scratch his head and ask, “Brother Su, what’s the significance of writing on paintings?”

 

Su Chen rolled his eyes, “That’s called an inscription.”

 

“Oh,” Qu Ling’er nodded, “So this painting is by someone called Yu… Gui? Is that how you pronounce these two characters? Is this person the painter?”

 

Su Chen suddenly stopped his chopsticks.

 

He picked up the painting from Qu Ling’er’s hands and held it up to the firelight. Among the layers of green leaves, the veins of the leaves intersected, vaguely outlining the two characters “Yu Gui.”

 

Looking at the other two paintings, he also found similar traces in the flower petals and branches.

 

Previously, he had only paid attention to the brushwork, ink, and composition, overlooking these details!

 

Su Chen put the painting down on the table and muttered to himself: “Yu Gui… Li Yunxi.”

 

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