The teahouse incident was severe, and it was reported to the local authorities.
In peacetime, manpower would have been fairly plentiful. If a case involving missing persons occurred within their jurisdiction, the authorities would have dispatched more people to solve it for the sake of their reputation—alive, they had to find the person; dead, they had to find the body!
But the current situation was unusual. Similar vicious incidents had surged in a short time, and the authorities clearly didn't have enough men. With too few people searching, the investigation progressed slowly. After all their efforts, they found no sign of a crime at the teahouse, much less the proprietress.
Anyone with eyes could see that the proprietress had probably met with disaster.
They couldn't help feeling sorry for her.
The proprietress's teahouse was famous locally.
The tea she sold was made with generous ingredients, and it was both delicious and affordable. But even more famous than the tea were her looks, temperament, talent, and bearing.
When the teahouse first opened, many customers had come for the proprietress's beauty. As time passed, those who had heard of her gradually discovered that she was eloquent and well-informed. Many of her insights were so startlingly illuminating that even the local scholars were struck dumb.
Gradually, the teahouse made a name for itself.
It became a place where local scholars and men of letters liked to linger.
They said many people admired the proprietress and had sent matchmakers to her several times. Some wealthy gentry had even promised to make her their principal wife. Unfortunately, the proprietress remained devoted to her late husband and couldn't forget him. The more steadfast she was, the more the scholars admired her single-mindedness, affection, and fidelity. They sighed that if a man had a wife like her,