Kindred Spirits

After a few words between Zeng Anmin and Father, the whole matter was laid clear.

The misunderstanding was resolved.

"Since it's for a case, come in, then. An Shiyi is inside."

Father cast a glance toward the window beside him.

Clearly, running into his son in a place like this—

No matter how thick one's skin, it was somewhat hard to bear.

"Very well."

Zeng Anmin actually wanted to ask Father what he was doing here.

But he felt it would be superfluous, so he held his tongue.

"Miss Shiyi?"

Arriving outside the screen, Zeng Anmin straightened his robes, his expression turning proper.

Every gesture and movement carried a distinct official bearing.

Rustle~

The hanging curtain beside him swayed, and a figure slowly stepped out. The moment she appeared, an inexplicable floral fragrance wafted over, rich and intoxicating, making one unable to resist being captivated by the scent.

Looking at her attire—a white Jasmine smoke gauze soft silk dress, trailing into a white Smoke-shrouded plum blossom hundred-water skirt, cinched with soft smoke gauze—she was a breathtaking sight, like a celestial maiden descending to earth.

Her face was the very picture of purity, like a first love, instinctively stirring not a shred of desire.

No wonder she was a chaste courtesan—she truly knew how to package herself.

The women downstairs could hardly wear less, each one desperate to flaunt her flesh for sale.

"Greetings, Sir."

An Shiyi pressed her lips together, her bearing and manner extremely dignified.

Zeng Anmin nodded calmly.

"No need to be nervous. This official will ask a few questions and then leave."

His voice was steady, his movements measured, and even upon seeing An Shiyi, his gaze remained stern.

An Shiyi blinked, looking at Zeng Anmin with great seriousness:

"Please, Sir, ask away."

Her voice was soothing, like a gentle stream.

"I ask you this: three months ago, on the seventeenth of August, did that son of Jin Taiping, Shen Jun, come seeking you?"

Zeng Anmin's expression was grave.

Jin Taiping was known as the foremost shipping merchant of Jiangnan.

And Shen Jun was a notorious big spender in the flesh trade.

"Shen Jun..."

An Shiyi's delicate brows furrowed slightly, her eyes sinking into recollection.

After a moment, she slowly lifted her head and nodded in confirmation:

"He did come. If I recall correctly, it was at the end of the Rabbit Hour. He arrived in great haste."

Zeng Anmin's eyes flickered with a sharp glint as he stared straight at An Shiyi for a while before asking:

"Why do you remember so clearly?"

A matter from three months ago, remembered down to the hour—highly suspicious.

It smacked of collusion...

An Shiyi lowered her head: "This slave was still in dreams at the time, hastily roused by Yun Niang. Young Master Shen was quite impatient..."

At this, she bit her lip, her voice as faint as a mosquito's hum: "Thus, I remember it clearly."

Having heard the full account, Zeng Anmin's face lit up with understanding.

Oh, oh, oh!

Then that was fine.

Impatient—because he had just been teased.

Shen Jun was only seventeen.

Add to that the drink, and full of youthful vigor was only natural.

So it all matched up.

Zeng Anmin's old face flushed. He cleared his throat and was about to ask another question when his gaze froze.

After a long time, his expression turned stern:

"Before this official arrived, did anyone come asking you about Shen Jun?"

"No." An Shiyi looked up, dazed, and added a question:

"Has Young Master Shen committed some crime?"

Zeng Anmin did not answer. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, recalling the face of Xu Yunfeng, the Right Clerk of the Xuanjing Division, in his mind.

This Xu Yunfeng had a problem.

Clearly, Xu Yunfeng had not investigated this case.

If he had, how could he have failed to come to the Jiaofang Division to question An Shiyi?

Zeng Anmin's brow furrowed tightly.

"Sir?"

An Shiyi lifted her head, peeking at Zeng Anmin through the gaps in the hair strands on her forehead.

Zeng Anmin glanced over, meeting her gaze.

An Shiyi, as if startled, quickly lowered her head, like a girl who had done something wrong.

"Mm, I understand."

Zeng Anmin nodded slowly. There was no need to ask more.

By now, he had almost ruled out Shen Jun's suspicion of killing his aunt.

He shifted more of his attention to that Right Clerk, Xu Yunfeng.

Just as he turned back, he saw his Father's already impatient expression beside him.

"Then I won't disturb your enjoyment any longer."

Zeng Anmin raised an eyebrow at his Father.

Father: ...

"Have your fun, enjoy yourself."

Zeng Anmin grinned, his smile deeply ambiguous.

After stepping out, he even personally closed the door for his Father.

Once the door was shut.

The room fell into utter silence.

Father's face was expressionless.

His gaze at An Shiyi flickered with a faint, sharp light.

"Does My Lord have any further questions?"

An Shiyi's face was full of reverence.

Father's voice, impossible to read for emotion, said flatly: "..."

After leaving the room, Zeng Anmin turned around and looked at Dachun, who had been staring blankly for a long while.

"Let's go." Zeng Anmin frowned, pushing Dachun, and led the way downstairs:

"What are you thinking about?"

Dachun still wore that wise gaze, asking naively:

"Young Master, Father... what were you two doing in there with that woman?"

This...

What?!

Zeng Anmin never expected Dachun's imagination to be so absurd.

The next moment, his face flushed red, and he even jumped up, slapping Dachun hard on the forehead!

"Smack!"

Tsk—

This kid's head was pretty hard. Zeng Anmin suppressed his twitching eyelids and said:

"Don't talk nonsense. Where does my father come in?! That one inside isn't him."

"Oh..."

Dachun blinked, then moved to push the door open, muttering: "Did I see wrong??"

"Hurry up and go!" Zeng Anmin grabbed Dachun by the sleeve and headed downstairs.

The Xuanjing Division.

Zeng Anmin dismounted and walked slowly into the yamen.

He lowered his eyelids, his phoenix eyes seeming to ponder something.

"Chirp!!!"

A sharp sound of something cutting through the air suddenly rang out not far away.

Zeng Anmin instinctively looked up and saw an arrow flying at an extremely fast speed toward the archery range beside him.

"Smack!!!"

The arrow struck the bullseye dead center, the fletching still quivering violently.

What a shot!

Before Zeng Anmin could even speak, he saw the target shatter into pieces!

Damn!

Was that a gun or what?!

Zeng Anmin was already stunned. In his past life, he'd only seen this kind of power from a Barrett!

How could a human shoot an arrow like that??

"Excellent shot, Commander!!!"

Not far away, Xuanjing Division Commander Wang Deli was grinning smugly, thumping his chest with a resounding bang:

"This is nothing! If I went all out, one arrow from me wouldn't just blow up the target—it'd blast the wall behind it too!"

"Damn it! What are you laughing at?! Believe me, I'll shoot your wife's bedroll next!"

Hearing this, Zeng Anmin's mouth twitched uncontrollably.

No wonder Father disliked these crude martial artists.

"Oh? Young Master Zeng?! Finished with your case?"

Wang Deli spotted Zeng Anmin, jogged over, and grinned as he tried to cozy up.

Zeng Anmin didn't hold any particular grudge against him either, so he just smiled and said:

"There was a case. I went to the Jiaofang Division to ask Courtesan Shiyi for some leads."

"Courtesan Shiyi?"

Hearing this, Wang Deli's eyes lit up, and he grinned so wide it was almost grotesque:

"Two years ago, I had the pleasure of bedding her once. Tsk tsk, so tender!!"

A true martial artist indeed—his focus wasn't even on the case.

Zeng Anmin's mouth twitched.

Well, you and my father are kindred spirits after all!