Folklore and Antiquities Investigation Division (Seeking Follow-up Reads)

Chen Zhong stood before the wooden dummy, his aged palms brushing over the deep, uneven fist marks.

To be able to leave such traces on the hard ironwood post.

Two bone-cracking sounds.

There could be no mistake.

He had served as the steward of the Zhao Estate for thirty years; he had watched the eldest young master practice, the eldest young lady practice, and even the master himself in his younger years.

Not to mention the endless stream of martial arts guards who had come and gone.

Among them were many true martial artists of Bright Force and Dark Force.

He had a clear measure in his heart of what a wooden dummy should look like after a punch from a martial artist capable of two bone-cracking sounds.

Ever since the masters moved to Shenghai.

In this old residence located in Xikou, aside from Old Xu who was a Bright Force martial artist, there were no other martial experts stationed here.

Therefore, Among the servants in the estate, who else could possess such martial strength?

As this thought crossed his mind.

Chen Zhong suddenly recalled hearing movement in this courtyard yesterday.

At the time, he had only seen that the base of the wooden dummy had shifted, with fresh scuff marks on the ground.

He had assumed it was just someone with one bone-cracking sound; he hadn't expected the person to reach two bone-cracking sounds by today.

One bone-cracking sound required only a slight acknowledgment, but a person with two bone-cracking sounds could easily handle ten or twenty ordinary men.

Such a figure, back in the days of the Great Yin dynasty.

Two bone-cracking sounds would have been enough to join the army as a squad leader of ten.

Even now, with firearms and artillery rampant and the status of martial artists diminished.

A person with two bone-cracking sounds could still enter relevant departments and draw a government salary.

Therefore, it could be said that plans could not keep up with changes.

He had to find this person as soon as possible.

Not to mention, it was still unclear whether this person belonged to the estate.

Or if they harbored any hostility toward the Zhao Estate.

Thinking of this, Chen Zhong could no longer sit still and hurriedly ordered the servant behind him.

"Go, bring me Old Sun who is responsible for sweeping the backyard."

The servant acknowledged and ran off, returning shortly after with a cleaning servant in tow.

"Steward Chen, did you call for me?" Old Sun asked, bowing his waist, his voice trembling slightly.

With the masters having moved to Shenghai, the person in charge of the old residence in Xikou was none other than this Steward Chen.

Steward Chen was usually kind to others, but if anyone violated the rules, he was the most severe and uncompromising.

"Do you know who has entered this courtyard in the last two days to use these stone locks and the wooden dummy?"

Chen Zhong pointed to the stone locks and the wooden dummy on the ground as he asked.

Upon hearing this, Old Sun's heart skipped a beat.

Could it be that Steward Chen was here to hold someone accountable today?

Looking at the situation, if he were to turn in Little Fang.

Would Steward Chen kick the Fang family out?

They had been friends for many years, and for a moment, Old Sun hesitated.

After thinking it over, he gritted his teeth and asked:

"Steward Chen, is it because these items have been damaged that you are looking to hold someone responsible?"

The martial arts training ground in the backyard had been built by the eldest young lady herself before she left for school in Shenghai.

She had once said that if it were empty, the servants of the estate could use it.

Even if they didn't master martial arts, it would at least serve as exercise.

The master had not objected at the time.

"Hmm?"

Chen Zhong frowned.

Having been the steward of the Zhao Estate for thirty years, he could read the minds of his subordinates with his eyes closed.

Old Sun's words were ostensibly asking if he was pursuing damages for the items, but in reality, he was making excuses for someone.

The eldest young lady had set the rules back then, allowing the servants to use the equipment; even if things were broken, the user could not be entirely blamed.

"This wooden dummy was meant to be struck; if it breaks, we simply replace it."

Chen Zhong waved his hand, paying no mind to Old Sun's petty schemes.

"I am not looking to hold anyone accountable for breaking it; you need only tell me who has been here these past two days."

Old Sun let out a sigh of relief, the wrinkles on his face smoothing out as he carefully replied:

"Reporting to the steward, the only person to visit this courtyard in the last two days was Old Fang's son, Little Fang. The boy came early this morning and only left a short while ago."

"Fang Shuwen?"

Chen Zhong blurted out, then paused in surprise.

He had just run through the names of all the young men in the Zhao Estate in his mind, not even missing the rough laborers.

Yet, he had never once considered Old Fang's son.

Old Fang had served as a gatekeeper at the Zhao Estate for over a dozen years, a man who had lived his whole life honestly and bowed to everyone he met.

He spent every cent of his hard-earned money on his good-for-nothing son.

He had spent a small fortune to send him to a public middle school.

He pinned all his hopes on Little Fang studying hard, making something of himself, and becoming an official.

But aside from Old Fang, everyone knew that Little Fang was completely unreliable.

He was arrogant yet incompetent, with his mind never on his studies.

He had failed six out of seven subjects, with only physical education barely passing.

Little Fang's physique was even more frail, with narrow shoulders and thin legs; one look told you he was no material for martial arts.

He could neither read nor fight, and he was a loafer with no ambition.

In any other family, he would have been beaten countless times by now.

Only Old Fang believed that Little Fang would surely amount to something one day.

So, could the person who made those two bone-cracking sounds really be Little Fang?

For a moment, doubt took root in Chen Zhong's heart.

It took him a long while to snap back to reality.

"Old Sun, do not speak of this to anyone else. The next time Little Fang comes by, notify me immediately."

Old Sun nodded hurriedly, though his heart began to race.

Steward Chen's attitude didn't seem like he was looking to punish or reward anyone; it felt as if he were brewing something important.

But as a lowly servant responsible for cleaning, he dared not pry into his master's affairs, so he bowed and retreated.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

After finishing his lunch, Fang Shuwen headed out.

He walked through the alley behind the back gate, turned a corner, and reached the front street.

He was in no rush to set up his chess stall on East Street today.

With the dozen or so silver dollars he had scavenged from Liu Mang in his pocket, plus the few he had saved up previously, he was much better off than he had been in recent days.

However, he still needed that money for school, so he couldn't afford to buy the Ghost Jade just yet.

He would figure out how to make more money once things stabilized after school started.

For now, he had a small matter to attend to.

Fang Shuwen raised a hand to touch his hair.

A few days ago, the original owner had been knocked unconscious by a punch at the temple fair, and after recuperating at home for several days, he hadn't bothered to groom himself at all.

His hair had grown long enough to cover his ears, and the back of his neck was a tangled mess; he looked no different from a street urchin.

He had to go to school the day after tomorrow, so he needed to clean himself up.

There was an Old Seven Barbershop on the front street.

The owner's surname was Qi, and people called him Uncle Seven.

He had run the shop in this area for over twenty years, known for his good craftsmanship and fair prices.

The original owner had been getting his hair cut at Uncle Seven's shop since he was a child.

Before long, Fang Shuwen arrived at the Old Seven Barbershop.

A half-height mirror hung by the entrance, its surface polished to a shine.

The door was open, the bamboo curtain rolled halfway up, and the sound of scissors clicking accompanied by a booming laugh drifted from within.

Fang Shuwen lifted the curtain and stepped inside.

On the other side, "Police business, move aside! Anyone who doesn't clear out will be apprehended as a suspect!"

Along the banks of the Clear Water River, over a dozen patrol officers in black uniforms and wielding batons lined up, pushing the crowd of onlookers back.

Two thick hemp ropes had been strung up on the riverbank, cordoning off the crime scene.

In the center of the cleared area.

Two corpses, recently fished out of the river, lay upon the gravel of the beach.

One was thin and tall with a tattoo on his neck; his chest was caved in, several ribs shattered by what appeared to be the raw force of a fist.

The other was stocky, his neck bent at an unnatural angle, clearly snapped by someone's hands.

Just then, a few individuals hurried up to the police line.

The man in the lead, wearing a black trench coat, presented a blue-covered ID to the officers.

The latter immediately saluted with a respectful expression, stepping aside to let them through.

"So this is Liu Mang. Are we certain that the item ended up in his possession?"

Lin Xiu covered his nose with a white handkerchief, frowning as he looked at the two bloated corpses.

"We've already ruled out three people. Including this one, there are only two left."

"That scale was either taken by this man, or by the granddaughter of Lord Zheng."