Chapter Thirty-Five: Plot Against Chief Liu

Daylight had broken.

Su Yang hid in an alleyway, watching as Scar Wolf left his home, then silently slipped into the courtyard. In the main bedroom, a woman in her twenties was still asleep. After knocking her out, he dragged her from the bed, gagged her, bound her hands and feet, and stuffed her into a sack.

“Who are you…?”

Just as he exited the bedroom, the door to the side room opened. An elderly man, nearing fifty, looked at Su Yang. Upon seeing the sack slung over Su Yang’s shoulder, fear flashed in his eyes and he opened his mouth to shout.

A dagger flashed through the air, embedding itself in the man’s chest. This must have been Scar Wolf’s father.

Fate, it seems, was not on your side.

Su Yang pulled out the knife, casting a cold glance into the room with the corner of his eye. Instantly, a chill glinted in his gaze.

A young woman was bound to a wooden cross, her body covered in blood, clothes torn, exposing large swathes of skin. Her eyes were vacant, her breath gone. Beside her lay an array of instruments designed for torturing women…

“Damn it, you deserve worse than death!” Su Yang ground his teeth, unable to resist kicking the old man several times. The woman inside was thin, her face sallow and gaunt.

She was likely tricked into coming here by this old man, or perhaps, unable to pay the protection fee, had been taken by Scar Wolf as compensation…

Su Yang shook his head silently at the sight, but there was no time to deal with the corpse. Hurriedly, he hefted the sack and made his way, unseen, to the outside of Constable Liu’s residence, where the bearded bailiff was already waiting.

“Constable Liu and the rank-eight martial officer, Constable Bai, have both gone to the yamen. Only the household remains. I’ll set a fire at the front. Young Master, you can climb in from the back gate,” the bearded bailiff said.

“Understood.”

Su Yang nodded, carrying Scar Wolf’s wife toward the back garden. Soon, smoke curled from the left side of the front yard, and shouts of “Fire!” rang out from the servants. Seizing his chance, Su Yang scaled the wall into the back. There, in a secluded corner, he found a separate courtyard, its bricks and tiles blackened, the air oppressive. Artificial hills filled the space, winding paths snaked everywhere. It was said that Constable Liu liked to imprison women from good families here, taking whichever he caught for his own pleasure.

Scattered on the ground were shreds of women’s clothing, and all those women were locked inside, beneath a statue of Guanyin.

The statue was taller than a man, carved from stone—bare-chested, with a lewd, demonic expression, seductive and wanton. It would be more fitting to call it the Evil Guanyin.

He moved the statue aside to reveal a blue stone slab beneath. Lifting it, a tunnel emerged. Dragging Scar Wolf’s wife, Su Yang descended into darkness, damp and stifling except for a faint light from a ventilation shaft.

The basement measured just over thirty square meters, furnished only with a bed, some food and water, and the body of a woman just recently dead, her body covered in wounds, another victim of human cruelty like the one tortured by Scar Wolf’s father.

Su Yang tossed Li Doukou’s jade hairpin into a corner, tore Scar Wolf’s wife’s clothes, forced her to swallow the bearded bailiff’s knockout powder, then gripped her hard, leaving deep bruises on her pale skin.

He then arranged the scene, making it appear as though the woman had been abused and killed.

After finishing, Su Yang exited the tunnel and climbed over the wall out of Constable Liu’s house.

With his face covered, he found a beggar boy, about twelve or thirteen, handed him two cakes, and pointed toward the assistant magistrate’s office. “Repeat exactly what I tell you, don’t miss a word. Come back here after, and I’ll give you two more cakes. For every mistake, I’ll take one cake back. Understand?”

The beggar, already devouring the bread, eyed the remaining cakes greedily, then dashed off toward the magistrate’s residence. The servants at the gate, shocked by his words, quickly pulled him inside.

Su Yang dropped the two cakes and turned away.

Today.

It was still his wedding day with Xichun, and nothing could be delayed.

…

The Wang estate was bustling with activity. Xichun wore a red bridal gown, as was custom: the bride in green, the concubine in red.

Originally, they intended to find Su Yang a bedchamber maid, but now that Xichun had been chosen, Wang Chunxiao would not allow her to be slighted and raised her to the rank of concubine—at least half a mistress.

“Now that you are a woman of status, you cannot appear too plain. Wear this hairpin.” Delighted, Wang Chunxiao took a pure gold phoenix hairpin from her jewelry box and, after admiring it, placed it in Xichun’s hair.

“Oh… Miss, this is too precious for a servant like me…” Xichun, seeing the hairpin in the bronze mirror, was startled and flustered, reaching to remove it, but Wang Chunxiao caught her hand. “Don’t move, or you’ll mess up your hair.”

“And from now on, don’t call me ‘Miss.’ According to your new status, you should say ‘Elder Sister.’”

“But Miss, this hairpin is too valuable…”

Xichun had served the young mistress for many years and knew its worth. The gold alone was costly, and the craftsmanship exquisite, made by an old master craftsman from the Su family at great expense.

The phoenix feathers were delicate as cicada wings; when she moved, it seemed a phoenix took flight—light as a startled swan.

“All these years you have served me with devotion. This golden phoenix hairpin is my gift to you. Though he is just a son-in-law, he now manages our household, no different from the master. Once you bear him a child, your position will be secure.”

While adorning Xichun’s hair, Wang Chunxiao’s voice was gentle and tender. Loose strands framed Xichun’s face, adding to her charm. Her eyes were bright with life. Wang Chunxiao bent to finish the last touches of her makeup.

Then she opened another box, ready to veil that striking beauty.

“But Miss… how can I bear a child?” Xichun’s face changed, hurriedly asking.

“Every woman must, sooner or later.”

“It will be your security when age and beauty fade,” Wang Chunxiao replied, not directly answering, but looking at Xichun with a gentle, serious smile.

“Miss…!” Xichun’s heart trembled as she gazed at her mistress’s unwavering expression, suddenly understanding.

The young mistress must have known her lie all along.

Her panic melted away, replaced by guilt; her eyes reddened as she looked at Wang Chunxiao.

“It’s an auspicious day—no tears.”

“But Miss… why did you still choose me?”

“Xichun… lovers should always end up together.”

…

The process of taking a concubine was simple, nothing like the elaborate wedding when Su Yang first joined the household. This, too, was within the same courtyard. A simple tea ceremony in the main hall before Wang Chunxiao, and Xichun was escorted to the bridal chamber.

“Miss, please have some tea.” Xichun approached, offering tea, her delicate makeup accentuating her beauty. Her gentle, reserved bearing was something only a great household could nurture.

For such a demure girl, Su Yang couldn’t help but imagine the wildness of the wedding night, stealing a few more glances.

The girls of the Wang family were truly exquisite.

For a moment, Su Yang felt as if he were living in a dream of the Red Chamber, embracing sisters, continuing the family line.

Wang Chunxiao took the tea, gave some instructions, and Xichun, hiding behind two fans, was soon led away under a red bridal veil.

Watching her childhood companion, Wang Chunxiao, too, felt a pang of nostalgia. From girlhood, Xichun had been her constant companion. Together, they had shared countless joys and sorrows, whispering secrets beneath the covers.

As for Xichun’s supposed infertility, Wang Chunxiao knew the truth. After all, they had shared a bed for years; she knew Xichun’s body well. Her energy was healthy, no blockages or injuries—there was no such illness.

At first, Wang Chunxiao was reluctant, but seeing Xichun’s longing gaze, her heart softened. They were mistress and maid, almost sisters. She couldn’t bear to let Xichun remain alone for her sake.

In other households, a maid would become the master’s bedchamber companion after her mistress married. Though Su Yang was a son-in-law, in the state of Daqian there was no discrimination against such men—at most, they were looked down upon a little.

He could take the imperial exams as usual, but taking a concubine or bedchamber maid required the main wife’s consent. A son-in-law could not request a divorce; only the wife had that right.

…

After Xichun was sent to the bridal chamber, three tables were set for the wedding feast—there weren’t many people left in the family.

Su Yang, Liu Wenxiang, Wang Chunxiao, and Wang Xiahe sat at one table.

The household servants—Qiuju, Qingzhu, Ping’er, Xiaomei, Rui’er, Madam Shen, Xi Liu, Xi Chun, Xi Xia, Taohua, Meihua, Wang Han, Ma Chao, Zhang San, Li Si—were divided among the other two.

Fearing Xichun might be hungry, someone fetched food from the kitchen and brought it to her. It was already midday, and she hadn’t eaten breakfast.

“Who is it?” Hearing the door open, Xichun, sitting on the bed, asked, unable to see who entered through the bridal veil.

“Who else? Your husband, of course,” Su Yang replied.

“Young Master, the ceremony isn’t finished yet—how can you come in?” Xichun said, strictly observing propriety.

“I brought you something to eat.”

“Young Master, that won’t do. Before the ceremony, I can’t remove the veil to eat.”

Ignoring her protest, Su Yang used a scale rod to lift the red veil. The refined, demure face beneath appeared, eyes wide and shy, brimming with emotion.

Her bridal attire, symbolizing dignity and love, made her even more alluring, its effect more striking than any modern uniform or stockings.

A wedding night, a beauty beneath him—truly one of life’s greatest joys.

“Shall we… consummate the marriage now?”

Xichun blushed furiously, biting her lip, uncertain yet expectant, but still refused. “Young Master, we can’t… it’s not evening yet…”

“Eat a little first, or you’ll have no strength later…”

“Young Master…!”

…

In Yanggu County.

Upon hearing news of his daughter, Assistant Magistrate Li immediately led men to Constable Liu’s home, blocking all exits and forbidding anyone from leaving or entering. Forcing open the gate to Liu’s pleasure courtyard, they found, in the basement beneath the Guanyin statue, only the bodies of two women, abused to death—no trace of his daughter. This left Assistant Magistrate Li deeply troubled.

“Master, look at this…”

At that moment, a retainer searching the basement picked up a jade hairpin and, flustered, brought it to Li. “Isn’t this the jade hairpin you gave Miss on her birthday?”

Staring at the hairpin, Li’s fury blazed. Everyone around him kept their heads bowed, silent.

He had made up his mind.

His daughter must have been violated by Constable Liu. Even if that weren’t so, the tragic state of Scar Wolf’s wife in the basement was a constant, bitter reminder.

“Identify these two women. The rest of you, follow me—we’re making arrests.”

With that, the yamen officers rushed to the county office, authority emanating from them, not daring to delay. Inwardly, they marveled at Liu’s audacity—daring to lay hands on the magistrate’s daughter.

In the county office, Constable Liu, waiting for his two subordinates to return with news of the Wang family’s fate, was dumbfounded when he was suddenly bound and arrested.

“Assistant Magistrate, why am I being tied up?” Liu asked, panic-stricken.

“Suspected of murdering Miss Doukou, what do you think?” replied a trusted officer of Li’s, a rank-seven martial constable, soon to be promoted to chief constable.

“What? Murder Miss Li? I didn’t!”

Liu’s confusion turned to terror—when had he ever plotted against the Li family’s daughter?

“No? Then why was her jade hairpin found in your secret chamber?”

“Tell us—where is Miss Li? Where are you hiding her?”

The rank-seven constable grabbed Liu by the collar, glaring furiously.

“I really don’t know! I swear to Heaven, I had no part in harming Miss Li!”

Liu racked his brain, unable to fathom how this had happened. He had never even met the Li family’s daughter.

“No more questions—take him for interrogation.”

“At once!”

“Constable Liu, if you don’t talk, I’ll send one of your family out of the city every hour.”

Li’s voice dripped with menace. The city was besieged; sending someone out was a death sentence.

“Assistant Magistrate Li… my brother-in-law is the county magistrate—he’s your superior! You can’t do this to me… I want to see my brother-in-law—call him, quickly…!”

…

But with Li present as the authority, none dared protest.

Though the magistrate was from the Zhou family, Li was supported by the Feng and Wei families, a counterbalance to the magistrate’s power.

Chief Constable Wu Song soon arrived, but after inquiring, remained silent—when deities fought, it was best for mere mortals like him to keep their distance, lest he jeopardize his chance at the vacant inspector position.

The identity of one of the women in the secret chamber was quickly confirmed, and Scar Wolf was brought in for questioning. Seeing his wife’s battered, bruised body, her eyes wide open in death, his fists clenched in fury.

She was dead!

When Assistant Magistrate Li revealed the truth, Scar Wolf, filled with murderous rage, immediately told all he knew.

Yet Li frowned, regarding the kneeling Scar Wolf with a strange look—the timelines didn’t match.

Scar Wolf had left home at dawn, as had Constable Liu. At that time, Scar Wolf’s wife was still at home. How could Constable Liu have abducted and tortured her to death?