Chen Zhong stood before the Wooden Dummy, his aged palm brushing over the deep and shallow fist marks.
The marks could be left on a hard ironwood stake.
Two bone-ringing cracks.
There was no mistaking it.
He had served as steward of the Zhao Estate for thirty years. He had seen the eldest young master practice boxing, the eldest young lady practice boxing, and the master practice boxing in his youth.
Not to mention the steady stream of bodyguard martial artists who had come and gone.
Among them were no shortage of true martial artists with Bright Force and Dark Force.
He knew exactly what a Wooden Dummy should look like after being struck by someone whose bones rang twice.
Ever since the master's family had moved to Shenghai,
there had been no martial artists stationed at the old residence in Xikou aside from Old Xu, a Bright Force martial artist.
So,
among the servants in the estate, who else could possess such strength?
As his thoughts reached this point,
Chen Zhong suddenly remembered hearing noises in the courtyard yesterday.
When he came over, he had only seen that the Wooden Dummy's base had shifted and several fresh scuff marks on the ground.
At the time, he had assumed it was someone whose bones rang only once. He hadn't expected that today, the person's bones would ring twice.
Someone whose bones rang once was worth keeping an eye on. But someone whose bones rang twice could take on ten or twenty ordinary men and still win.
A person of this caliber, back in the days of the Great Yin dynasty,
could already have joined the army as the leader of a ten-man squad.
Even now, with firearms and cannons running rampant and martial artists' standing diminished,
someone whose bones rang twice could still enter a relevant department and draw a government stipend.
So, it was safe to say that plans couldn't keep up with changing circumstances.
He had to find this person as soon as possible.
Not to mention, he still didn't know whether the other party was even from the estate,
or whether they harbored ill will toward the Zhao Estate.
At that thought, Chen Zhong could no longer sit still. He quickly turned and instructed the young servant behind him.
"Go. Bring me Old Sun, who's in charge of cleaning the back courtyard."
The young servant hurried off. Before long, he came jogging back with a servant who handled the cleaning.
"Steward Chen, you sent for me?" Old Sun bent at the waist, his voice somewhat timid.
The master's family had moved to Shenghai to settle down, and here at the old residence in Xikou, Steward Chen was now the one in charge.
Steward Chen was usually kind to everyone, but when anyone broke the rules, he was the strictest of all and showed no mercy.
"Do you know who's been in this courtyard over the past two days, using these Stone Locks and the Wooden Dummy?"
Chen Zhong pointed to the Stone Locks and the Wooden Dummy on the ground.
At his words, Old Sun's heart gave an anxious thump.
Could Steward Chen be here to hold someone accountable?
Looking at the situation, if he ratted out Little Fang,
would Steward Chen kick Fang and his son out?
They had been friends for years, and for a moment, Old Sun hesitated.
After thinking it over, he gritted his teeth and asked,
"Steward Chen, have these things been damaged? Are you planning to investigate?"
The young lady herself had arranged for this training yard in the back courtyard to be built, before she left for school in Shenghai.
She had said that if it was sitting unused, the servants in the estate could use it too.
Not to practice martial arts, just to exercise.
The master hadn't objected at the time.
"Hmm?"
Chen Zhong knitted his brows.
He had been steward of the Zhao Estate for thirty years; he could read the people under him with his eyes closed.
On the surface, Old Sun was asking whether he intended to investigate the damaged items, but beneath that, he was trying to cover for someone.
The young lady had made it clear that the servants were allowed to use the equipment. Even if something really broke, the person using it couldn't be entirely blamed.
"The Wooden Dummy is meant to be hit. If it breaks, we'll just replace it."
Chen Zhong waved a hand, paying no mind to Old Sun's little scheme.
"I'm not here to find out who broke anything. Just tell me who's been here these past two days."
Old Sun breathed a sigh of relief. The wrinkles on his face relaxed as he answered cautiously,
"Reporting to you, Steward, the only person who's come to this courtyard these past two days is Little Fang, Old Fang's son. That boy came first thing this morning and only left a little while ago."
"Fang Shuwen?"
Chen Zhong blurted out the name, then froze himself.
He had just gone through the names of all the young men in the estate in his head, without even overlooking the few odd-job servants.
Yet it hadn't once occurred to him to think of Old Fang's son.
Old Fang had worked as a gatekeeper at the Zhao Estate for more than ten years. He was honest and meek, bowing to everyone he met.
Every penny he earned through hard work went toward his good-for-nothing son.
He had spent a fortune sending him to Public Middle School.
He had hoped Little Fang would apply himself, make something of his studies, and become an official one day.
But everyone except Old Fang knew that Little Fang was completely unreliable.
He was ambitious but incapable, and his mind was nowhere near his studies.
He had flunked six out of seven subjects, and barely passed the one remaining subject—physical education.
Little Fang was also frail, with narrow shoulders and skinny legs. He didn't look like martial artist material at all.
He was no scholar, no martial artist, and he was idle and never tried to improve himself.
If he'd belonged to anyone else's family, he'd have been beaten countless times by now.
Only Old Fang believed that Little Fang would amount to something one day.
So could Little Fang really be the one whose bones rang twice?
For a moment, Chen Zhong found himself doubting it too.
Only after a long while did he come back to his senses.
"Old Sun, don't tell anyone about this. The next time Little Fang comes, let me know immediately."
Old Sun quickly nodded in agreement, but his heart was pounding.
Steward Chen's attitude didn't seem like he planned to punish anyone, nor did it seem like he meant to reward anyone. It was more like he was keeping some urgent matter to himself.
But he didn't dare pry into his master's affairs. He bent at the waist and withdrew.
Meanwhile, elsewhere,
Fang Shuwen left after lunch.
He walked through the alley outside the back gate, turned a corner, and reached the main street.
He wasn't in a hurry to set up his chess stall on East Street today.
He had the dozen or so silver dollars he'd taken from Liu Mang in his pocket, along with the few he'd saved before. He was much better off than he had been a few days ago.
But he would need that money for the start of school, so he couldn't buy the Ghost Jade just yet.
He would figure out how to make money once school started and things had settled down.
For now, he had one small errand to run.
Fang Shuwen raised a hand and felt his hair.
A few days ago, the original owner had been knocked unconscious by a punch at the temple fair, then spent several days recovering at home. He hadn't had a chance to tidy himself up at all.
His hair had grown past his ears, and the back of his neck was a tangled mess. He looked no different from one of the little beggars on the street.
He was going back to school the day after tomorrow, so he needed to clean himself up.
There was an Old Seven Barbershop on the main street.
The owner's surname was Qi, and people called him Uncle Seven.
He had run the shop in this area for more than twenty years, with skilled hands and fair prices.
The original owner had gotten his hair cut at Uncle Seven's ever since he was a child.
Before long, Fang Shuwen arrived at Old Seven Barbershop.
A mirror as tall as a person hung by the entrance, its surface polished until it gleamed.
The door stood open, the bamboo curtain rolled halfway up. Inside, scissors snipped, and a deep-voiced man chuckled.
Fang Shuwen lifted the curtain and went in.
Meanwhile,
"Police business! Move along! Anyone who doesn't will be arrested as a suspect!"
By Clear Water River, more than a dozen patrol officers in black uniforms, carrying batons, formed a line along the bank and drove the onlookers back.
Two thick hemp ropes cordoned off the crime scene on the riverbank.
In the middle of the open space,
two bodies, recently pulled from the river, lay on the gravel.
One was tall and thin, with a tattoo on his neck. His chest had caved in, several ribs broken. Judging by the shape of the wound, someone had smashed them in with a bare fist.
The other was stoutly built, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Someone had snapped it.
Just then, several people hurried to the cordon.
The middle-aged man at their head wore a black trench coat and showed the police a blue-covered credential.
The officer immediately saluted with a respectful expression and stepped aside to let them through.
"So this is Liu Mang. Are we sure he was the last one to pick up that item?"
Lin Xiu covered his nose with a white handkerchief and frowned at the two bloated corpses.
"We've ruled out three people. Counting this man, there are two others."
"Either this man took that scale, or Lord Zheng's granddaughter did."