The Murderer

Her steps felt heavier than before, and Wen Yu's mind was a complete mess.

To make matters worse, the young girl behind her caught up in a few quick strides and grabbed her hand before she could react.

Startled, Wen Yu tried to pull away but failed. Turning her head, she saw the beautiful girl frowning. “I'm truly sorry about earlier. I didn't know your mother's whereabouts and speculated blindly. It was my fault.”

Meeting those clear, watery eyes, Wen Yu's breath caught for a split second. Quickly regaining her composure, she forced herself to look calm. “You've already said it. What's the point of apologizing now?”

“Precisely because I said it, I must apologize.”

Song Yao walked side by side with her, her tone gentle and warm. “Your mother is the Family Head of the Wen family. It was narrow-minded of me to suggest she eloped with Elder Huaisang. After all, even if they did have a personal relationship, they could have been together openly and honestly. There was no need for such drastic measures.”

Wen Yu felt something was off and immediately retorted, “H-how could they possibly have a personal relationship?! Stop talking nonsense!”

Song Yao feigned surprise. “If they didn't have a personal relationship, then why was Elder Huaisang in your mother's room last night?”

Wen Yu blurted out, “Naturally, it was to discuss important matters!”

Song Yao asked, “What kind of matter would require an elder of Taiqing Pavilion to visit your mother in the middle of the night to discuss?”

Wen Yu stammered, “Of course it was...”

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake and abruptly shut her mouth.

Song Yao asked with good-natured curiosity, “Could it be that they were discussing how to handle Nine Saints Hall and the Ming family coming to demand justice?”

Wen Yu violently shook off her hand. “Y-you're trying to trick me into talking?”

Song Yao rubbed her wrist and sighed softly, looking entirely innocent. “How could I? I truly wanted to apologize to you and your mother. My earlier speculation about her was indeed quite inappropriate.”

Wen Yu: “...”

Her mouth opened, but she only felt a deeper wave of panic. This time, she didn't dare stop for a second, quickening her pace toward the side courtyard where the Ming family members were staying.

Following behind, Ji Duchuan's lips curled upward.

She was truly remarkable, this little girl.

Scaring their young mistress half to death with just a few words.

Ye Chang'an, on the other hand, felt a deep sense of shared misery, along with a faint trace of amusement.

How wonderful. He wasn't the only young master who was completely ignored and tormented!

...

A moment later.

In the side room, Ji Duchuan held dozens of silver threads wrapped around his fingers. They were as thin as hair, gleaming with a chilly light.

The other ends of the threads were connected to Hall Master Ming and Daoist Huachao, sinking into several vital acupoints on their wrists, throats, and chests.

He sat upright with his eyes closed. With a slight twitch of his fingers, the silver threads vibrated gently.

The entire room was dead silent; no one made a sound.

After about the time it took to drink half a cup of tea, Ji Duchuan opened his eyes. With a flick of his fingers, the silver threads retracted.

He stood up, and Ming Ran immediately stepped forward, asking anxiously, “Senior Ji, how is it? What kind of poison is it? Is there a cure?”

Hearing this, Ji Duchuan cast a meaningful glance at Wen Yu.

Wen Yu kept her head lowered, her fingers tightly clutching her clothes, not daring to meet anyone's gaze.

He withdrew his gaze and shook his head with some regret. “I cannot cure it. I can only help alleviate the symptoms. However, a senior from the Wen family seems to have already treated them yesterday, so there is no need for me to do anything for now. As for what poison it is...”

“It won't be too late to discuss that after we examine Family Head Wen's room.”

Though somewhat disappointed, Ming Ran still bowed politely. “Thank you, Senior Ji.”

“No need to be polite.”

Ji Duchuan smoothed his sleeves. “Let us go, then. Let's not waste any time. Young Mistress Wen, after you.”

Wen Yu kept her head down, bit her lip, and turned to lead the way.

Ye Chang'an followed at the back of the group, trailing them aimlessly with a face full of impatience.

He followed them from the side room to the courtyard, and from the courtyard to the corridor, before finally failing to hold back a low mutter, “Always keeping us in suspense.”

Song Yao asked, “Are we not allowed to?”

Ye Chang'an: “...You are.”

Wen Meijue's courtyard was located in the deepest part of the Wen estate, guarded by two cultivators in gray robes.

The moment the door was pushed open, a burnt stench rushed over them, so intense it felt as though someone had shoved a bundle of charred charcoal right under their noses.

Choking on the air, they coughed repeatedly and quickly covered their noses and mouths with their sleeves.

The inside of the room was in absolute ruins.

Not a single piece of furniture remained. The floor was covered in ashes, and even the walls were blackened by smoke, making their original color completely unrecognizable.

There were only two dark silhouettes—one on the left and one on the right. One lay on the floor, while the other was splashed across the wall.

They were pitch-black and humanoid, as if someone had pressed tightly against the wall while being consumed by intense flames, leaving behind an indelible charcoal painting.

The moment Song Yao stepped inside, a cloud of kicked-up ash hit her right in the face. She wiped the soot from her face and clothes, gathered some of it together, and handed it to Wen Yu.

Wen Yu: “?”

Song Yao said, “Keep it. What if your mother is in here?”

Wen Yu: “...”

She took it with a mix of complex emotions, looking as if she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

Song Yao circled the room, stopping in front of the window, and suddenly remarked, “The inside is burned to this extent, yet the outside remains completely unscathed?”

Standing by the door, Wen Yu's body stiffened slightly before she quickly regained her composure.

Clutching the handful of ash, she lowered her eyes. “The materials used to build the Wen family's houses are rather unique. They do not... do not burn easily.”

“I see,” Song Yao said slowly. “Then the person who set the fire must be very familiar with the Wen family. Anyone else would have worried about being discovered during the fire and wouldn't have dared to do it. Don't you agree?”

Wen Yu pressed her lips into a tight line.

Someone very familiar with the Wen family...

Wouldn't that mean a member of the Wen family?

How does this girl manage to dig a trap with every single word she speaks?

She took a deep breath, trying her best to keep her voice steady. “Did Senior Ji find anything? Weren't we supposed to uncover the truth? Surely you didn't find absolutely nothing?”

Ji Duchuan did not answer. His gaze suddenly landed on her, and he turned to walk toward her.

Wen Yu instinctively took half a step back, only to realize he was merely passing her. He reached out toward the charred, blackened wooden door behind her.

His fingers were long and fair, and his fingertips accurately probed the very center of the humanoid black silhouette on the door.

A nail was pulled out.

It was pitch-black, stained with dried blood, and almost entirely fused with the charred door. Layered with soot, it had been hidden flawlessly.

Even the Wen family members who came to clean up this morning had failed to notice it.

Wen Yu's pupils contracted sharply. She instinctively reached out to grab it, but under Ji Duchuan's sweeping glance, she retracted her hand resentfully and looked to Ye Chang'an for help.

Unfortunately, Ye Chang'an clearly knew nothing. He asked in surprise, “What is that?”

Ji Duchuan held the nail up to his eyes and squinted at it. “There is blood on it.”

He turned his head to look at Wen Yu, his gaze still as gentle and unhurried as before. “It should be your mother's.”

Wen Yu's lips trembled.

Song Yao patted her shoulder with her ash-covered hand, comforting her, “Don't worry. We will definitely find the killer and get justice for your mother, right, Senior Ji?”

Wen Yu: “...”

Knowing that the girl was likely scaring her again, Ji Duchuan chimed in, “Indeed. There is no need to worry, Young Mistress Wen. This nail must have been left behind by the killer. As long as we use it to track their trail, we can avenge your mother.”