Chapter 15: The Murderer (2)

Later that evening, Wen Yao returned to the inn. Seeing her, Di Jiang hurriedly asked: “Did you find Pan Yuelang?”

Wen Yao shook her head: “I searched the neighboring county several times but couldn’t find him anywhere. I even asked the neighbors, and no one knows where he went.”

“Hmm… I see,” Di Jiang thought for a moment before saying: “Let’s set this aside for now. Perhaps he’s already on his way back.”

“I’d rather he didn’t come back,” Wen Yao muttered in frustration. “If he returns and sees his father dead with his eyes un-closed, his mother locked up with her supposed lover—it’ll be such a blow!”

Di Jiang calmly replied: “People must endure all kinds of suffering to forge a resilient heart. As the saying goes, when heaven bestows a great responsibility upon someone, it first tests their resolve, right?”

“He’s suffered enough!” Wen Yao blurted out anxiously. “Why don’t you calculate where Yue’er is, Boss? I’ll intercept him and take him back to Taiping Prefecture. I’ll teach him not to let these filthy rumors cloud his mind and to stay far away from this mess. It would be a kind of liberation.”

“…” Di Jiang said nothing in response, turning away and ignoring her.

Seeing Di Jiang like this, Wen Yao thought she had zoned out and hadn’t heard her. So, she repeated what she had just said. But before she could finish, Di Jiang slapped her on the head and retorted with a single word: “Pfft! How dare you suggest such a thing.”

Shu Xiang, standing nearby, shook his head and sighed deeply at the scene.

“What are you sighing about!” Unable to vent her anger on Di Jiang, Wen Yao snapped at Shu Xiang instead.

“I’m sighing because your understanding is too shallow,” Shu Xiang coldly replied without lifting his gaze from his book.

Wen Yao gasped in shock. Normally, Shu Xiang was the picture of detachment—never getting involved in arguments or disputes. Yet today, he directly scolded her like an elder. Truly, if left unchecked, even children will climb onto roofs and tear off tiles! Enraged, Wen Yao snatched his book away and demanded: “How exactly am I lacking in understanding?”

“The boss said this is all part of life’s predetermined trials. Enjoying blessings diminishes them, while enduring suffering resolves hardships. You insist on being an umbrella, smoothing out all obstacles for others. Isn’t that ruining their foundation?”

“I only meant well!”

“Having good intentions is commendable, but excessive kindness isn’t always beneficial.” After finishing, Shu Xiang retrieved his book from her hands and continued reading. Meanwhile, Di Jiang sat by the window, intently listening to the conversations below. Most of them revolved around Old Pan’s case.

Seeing how indifferent both of them appeared, Wen Yao realized that no matter what she said, it wouldn’t make much difference. Frustrated, she slumped onto the table and began wailing loudly.

“What are you crying for?” Shu Xiang asked.

“For Yue’er’s sorrow.” Wen Yao choked through sobs, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Seeing her in such a state—a rare sight—Shu Xiang reluctantly put down his book, walked over to her, and patted her back. “Stop crying. Save your strength to comfort Pan Yuelang later.”

Upon hearing this, Wen Yao cried even harder.

“That’s enough—stop crying. Anyone who hears you would think I’ve died!” Di Jiang lazily called out from the windowsill. “Come here and look—something strange is happening downstairs.”

“What is it?” Wen Yao sprang to her feet and rushed to the window, accidentally elbowing Shu Xiang’s chin in the process without realizing it. Shu Xiang winced in pain, instinctively touching his jaw, only to feel a large bump forming. He silently cursed his bad luck but still walked over to the window.

“Look there.” Di Jiang raised her hand, pointing toward the cobblestone road in the distance.

Following the direction of Di Jiang’s finger, Wen Yao and Shu Xiang saw a massive coffin mysteriously moving along the road. They rubbed their eyes to confirm they weren’t mistaken. As the coffin drew closer, they noticed a child of about eight or nine years old behind it.

The boy was thin and frail, creating a stark contrast with the enormous coffin. The coffin was heavy, making its progress on the uneven cobblestones particularly arduous. Additionally, the boy carried a bamboo basket nearly half his height. He panted heavily, his forehead band and collar soaked with sweat, evoking a deep sense of pity in anyone who saw him.

Di Jiang stared blankly at the scene, murmuring: “Wen Yao, compared to your Yue’er, who do you think has it harder?”

“Of course it’s Yue’er!” Wen Yao rolled her eyes. “This boy looks delicate and pampered—he’s clearly never been exposed to wind or sun. He probably doesn’t have a tiger-like mother beating him, nor a mother who murders her husband!”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Di Jiang lazily smiled. “We’ll know soon enough if we follow and see.”

“Fine, let’s go. Who’s afraid of whom?” With that, Wen Yao took the lead and ran downstairs. Di Jiang and Shu Xiang followed at a leisurely pace.

The three trailed behind the boy until they finally arrived at the ancestral hall.

Old Pan’s body still lay in the center of the hall. The coffin, brought by Xing Ge, a young worker from the incense shop, was now placed beside it.

This solid wood coffin was intricately carved with complex depictions of the Four Beasts, symbolizing auspiciousness. It was far superior to the thin wooden coffins typically used for burials, considered a prized possession of the shop—the highest standard for funerals within ten miles.

After placing Old Pan inside the coffin, Xing Ge approached the strong men guarding the stone room holding a bamboo basket. “Could I see my boss? He hasn’t eaten all day, so I prepared some food for him. Please, Brother Liu, show some leniency.”

But Brother Liu refused. He sneered at Xing Ge, then snatched the basket from him. With a loud “thud,” he hurled it to the ground, scattering food and soup everywhere.

“You want convenience? Do you think Old Pan’s vengeful spirit will allow it?” Brother Liu taunted, stomping repeatedly on the basket until it was deformed and useless. Smirking coldly, he added: “A person like your boss is worse than an animal. How dare he eat human food? Leave quickly, or we’ll beat you too!”

Xing Ge stood frozen in the courtyard, unsure whether to leave or stay. His eyes brimmed with tears, threatening to spill over.

Though fewer people remained outside the ancestral hall compared to earlier, some still lingered, waiting for news. Upon witnessing the scene, they jeered at Xing Ge: “Your boss committed such a heinous act, and you think sending a coffin will quell everyone’s anger? What use is that? And yet, you still dare to plead his case—what foolishness!”

“Exactly! I advise you to leave quickly. If Pan Yuelang comes back, he won’t let you off easily.” The crowd chimed in, urging Xing Ge to leave.

But Xing Ge refused to budge. Eventually, he knelt on the ground, repeatedly kowtowing: “Please, have mercy! My boss isn’t like that—he’s not a bad person!”

“He conspired with Sister Li to kill Old Pan—how could he possibly be a good person after committing such an unforgivable act?”

“A degenerate like him can only raise degenerate children!”

Seeing the crowd growing increasingly agitated, Xing Ge dared not speak further. He kept bowing his head, but his apparent goodwill and flattery were seen as bribery and guilt. The crowd’s resentment seemed directed entirely at him.

“Let’s teach him a lesson today! Avenge Old Pan!” The crowd shouted in unison, raining punches and kicks on the young boy until he was battered, bruised, and barely conscious. Only then did they toss him out of the ancestral hall.

“Murderer, get out of Zhuangyuan Township!”

“Don’t let us see you again! This village has no place for scum like you! If we see you again, we’ll beat you every time!”

The crowd relentlessly cursed Xing Ge as he struggled to his feet. Finally giving up on entering the ancestral hall, he turned around and staggered away, disappearing from Di Jiang, Shu Xiang, and Wen Yao’s view after a short while.

Di Jiang and Shu Xiang felt as though heavy stones were pressing on their chests, suffocating them. Only Wen Yao managed a faint smile, muttering: “Serves him right.”

That night, the young worker Xing Ge hanged himself from a crooked tree outside his home. The next morning, when the villagers saw his emaciated figure swaying in the wind, instead of feeling pity, they mocked him for being weak and cowardly.

“What bad luck!” The village head arrived with an impatient look and quickly sent two people to cut him down. Then, they wrapped Xing Ge in a piece of broken straw mat they found lying around and dumped him into the mass burial ground. From then on, his body was left exposed to the elements, without even a scrap of earth to cover it. Others didn’t grieve much over Xing Ge’s death but instead grew more worried about their own safety. They felt that Zhuangyuan Township had become increasingly unstable recently, and discussions buzzed with both anger and fear.

“Village Head, our village is in turmoil these days!” Aunt Liu exclaimed anxiously.

“Isn’t it?” The village head felt overwhelmed, recalling one wrongful death yesterday and another forced death today. It was only a matter of time before the two locked in the ancestral hall would be executed. Altogether, this was shaping up to be a first-class calamity.

“Why don’t we pool some money from the villagers to invite Daoist Zhong to perform a ritual? Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep soundly!” Aunt Liu cautiously suggested, earning continuous nods from the village head: “This is a brilliant idea—I’ll go find him immediately!”

With that, the village head rushed to Widow Meng’s inn, where coincidentally Zhong Xu was having breakfast in the hall.

“Daoist Zhong! What good fortune to see you!”

The village head’s sudden familiarity startled Zhong Xu. He hesitated slightly before nodding: “What brings you here, Village Head?”

Without wasting time on pleasantries, the village head quickly explained the situation, giving a brief account of Xing Ge’s death. At that moment, Di Jiang and her companions happened to descend for breakfast. After hearing the story, all three sighed deeply—Di Jiang and Shu Xiang instantly lost their appetites, while Wen Yao calmly took a bite of her steamed bun: “It serves him right for following the wrong person.”

Di Jiang ignored Wen Yao, speaking to herself: “That young man had a pure heart.”

“He was a pitiful child,” Shu Xiang nodded in agreement.

Seeing regret in Di Jiang and Shu Xiang’s words stirred up Wen Yao’s indignation. She angrily retorted: “It’s because his boss committed evil deeds, bringing such misfortune upon them! I say he deserved it!”

“Wen Yao!” Di Jiang sharply reprimanded her: “You’re so young, yet your words are venomous.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“The dead have passed on; let’s not speak of it anymore. Moreover, it’s still uncertain whether Zhang Quande is truly the murderer—it’s too early to draw conclusions.”

“How is it too early? Everyone says it’s him!”

“They’re not Old Pan—how do they know who the real culprit is?” Di Jiang snapped sternly: “Focus on eating! If you bring this up again, forget about breakfast—you can go keep vigil for Old Pan at the ancestral hall.”

“Fine, I’ll go keep vigil! I’ve lost my appetite anyway!” With that, Wen Yao stood up and stormed out. Neither Di Jiang nor Shu Xiang stopped her, and she disappeared from sight in no time.

“Shouldn’t someone follow her?” Zhong Xu asked.

Di Jiang shook her head: “Let her go. She’ll cool off soon enough.”

“Mm...” Zhong Xu pondered for a moment, then suddenly seemed to recall something. Hurriedly turning to Di Jiang, he said: “I’ll go prepare for the ritual now. Excuse me.”

“Alright.” Di Jiang nodded.

Zhong Xu and the village head departed, leaving only Di Jiang and Shu Xiang in the inn. As they ate slowly and talked, Shu Xiang recalled Xing Ge’s brave attempt to save his master the previous day. Inspired, he asked: “Boss, if one day you get arrested for committing a crime, what should I do?”

“Run. Run as far as you can. If even I can’t resolve it... don’t waste your efforts.”

“...” Shu Xiang pouted and continued: “What if the one who committed the crime was me?”

“You?” Di Jiang chuckled and shook her head: “Everyone in the world might make mistakes, but not you.”

“...True.” Shu Xiang nodded blankly, realizing he couldn’t argue against her statement.