Letting Off Steam

Yujing City, beside the imperial city, in a place where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, stood an exceptionally sprawling residence.

The estate was adorned with carved beams and painted rafters, resplendent in gold and jade, its air of wealth almost oppressive.

This grand manor belonged to Great Xia's only Ninth Prince, Xia Dian.

At that moment, in the prince's rear garden, Ninth Prince Xia Dian swayed his head as he composed poetry and matched couplets, displaying every bit of a refined scholar's grace.

"Do not blame me for often visiting places with wine; sentiment ever cherishes the passing years."

"The spring breeze is both delightful and hateful; flowers have scarcely bloomed before they fall."

Ninth Prince Xia Dian snapped his folding fan shut, signaling the end of the poem.

Countless rounds of applause immediately erupted around him.

Prince Jiu's retainers all praised him lavishly.

Those fond of flaunting their learning even explained the allusions word by word, enthusiastically praising exactly what made Prince Jiu's poem so excellent.

"Your Highness's use of the word 'can' is truly exquisite. It perfectly conveys how time flies and waits for no one..."

Ninth Prince Xia Dian watched the man dissect his poem with a beaming smile.

In truth, how could he possibly know whether those lines contained any allusions?

He had paid someone to prepare them the previous night.

"Your Highness."

His trusted eunuch, Cao Qingyu, slightly bowed as he approached Xia Dian and whispered a few words into his ear.

Xia Dian raised his brows, astonishment flashing through his eyes.

He rose and cupped his hands, elegant and impeccably courteous.

"Gentlemen, please make yourselves at home. This prince has a small matter to attend to."

"Please, Your Highness."

"Please, Your Highness."

The retainers spoke in turn, respectfully seeing Xia Dian off.

By the time he returned to his study, the smile had vanished from Xia Dian's face.

"Dead?"

"The bodies were burned too?"

Cao Qingyu nodded. "Your Highness, it seems my instincts were correct. Someone truly was watching Zhang Quan. This servant was careless. This servant deserves punishment."

Xia Dian waved a hand. "Qingyu, there is no need for this. He was merely a minor official from the Corpse Seamstress Workshop. Was this aimed at this prince?"

That was what Xia Dian cared about most.

He had barely sent Cao Qingyu to see Zhang Quan when Zhang Quan was murdered. Zhang Quan and the two Yamen Runners had all been burned clean in a single fire, leaving nothing behind.

He could not help but be suspicious.

Cao Qingyu pondered carefully and did not answer at once.

Being valued by Ninth Prince Xia Dian, Cao Qingyu was naturally no ordinary man. He knew that every word he spoke was of immense importance to the prince and would serve as the basis for his decisions.

Thus, he considered every sentence carefully before voicing it.

That was precisely why Ninth Prince Xia Dian trusted him so deeply.

"Your Highness, this servant believes it is unrelated."

"We merely asked him to find some people afflicted with the Five Flaws and Three Deficiencies. That is hardly an important matter."

"Your Highness's enemies would not waste manpower on such a thing."

"Moreover, this servant investigated before coming here."

"Before this servant went to the Corpse Seamstress Workshop, Zhang Quan seemed to have clashed with the Corpse Seamstress at Corpse Seamstress House Number Nine."

"For a minor official like Zhang Quan, embezzling the Corpse Seamstresses' wages and oppressing them was commonplace. Perhaps one of them could endure no longer and took his life."

Cao Qingyu's judgment made Xia Dian nod slightly. He felt that Cao Qingyu's words made perfect sense.

He had made no particular arrangements involving Zhang Quan. If his enemies intended to strike at him, they would not merely kill Zhang Quan.

"Then there is no need to concern ourselves with it."

"As for the Corpse Seamstress Workshop, have our people submit a memorial to abolish it."

"The court's finances are strained. Where would it find the money to support a group of people who sew corpses?"

"Besides, those who were executed were all deeply sinful. They ought to die without intact bodies, yet a group of Corpse Seamstresses was assigned to stitch them up. Utterly ridiculous."

"Yes, this servant will handle it at once."

Cao Qingyu knew that the prince was still somewhat angered. After all, Zhang Quan had been killed before he could carry out the task assigned to him.

Rather than waste manpower investigating which murderer had done it, he would simply abolish the Corpse Seamstress Workshop and leave those Corpse Seamstresses to fend for themselves.

As for whether a Corpse Seamstress had truly done it, what did it matter?

Prince Jiu had vented his anger, after all.

At Corpse Seamstress House Number Nine, Wen Qingkong practiced boxing on the first floor.

He was waiting. After all, three Human Lives had been lost. When that eunuch had sent someone to summon Zhang Quan, the Yamen Runner who came had also noticed the conflict between him and Zhang Quan.

If the authorities investigated, they certainly would not overlook him.

Upstairs, Li Lan'er was also on edge, unable to calm her pounding heart.

She did not know what Wen Qingkong had done.

But Wen Qingkong treated her well. She had made up her mind that if anyone came to question her, she would grit her teeth and say exactly what Wen Qingkong had taught her.

The two waited until nightfall, but no one came. Even the person who delivered their meals failed to appear.

That instead struck Wen Qingkong as strange.

Then came a knock on the door.

Li Lan'er's heart skipped a beat. Nervously, she walked to the top of the stairs and looked toward the front door below.

Wen Qingkong waved her upstairs, then opened the door himself. It was Uncle Fang, Old Zhou, and the others.

"Little Wen, something huge happened!"

"Oh?"

Wen Qingkong feigned ignorance.

"Zhang Quan... Zhang Quan was killed! Two Yamen Runners were killed too! A single fire burned everything clean, leaving nothing behind!"

Li San blurted out impatiently, but his gaze slipped past Wen Qingkong as he searched around. When he failed to spot Li Lan'er, he looked slightly disappointed.

Wen Qingkong also put on an expression of shock and fear.

"How could that happen?"

"How powerful would someone have to be to kill Zhang Quan?"

Uncle Fang nodded. "Exactly. Zhang Quan was killed just like that. It did let us vent some anger and avenge Old Cai, but no one delivered food tonight. Who knows what is going on?"

After Uncle Fang spoke, Old Zhou, Lai Liu, and the others quickly shifted the topic to what lay ahead for the Corpse Seamstresses.

After all, they were too busy celebrating Zhang Quan's death to spare any thought for who had killed him.

Wen Qingkong joined in at the right moment, discussing these matters with them.

Only after they chatted noisily for a full shichen did everyone finally disperse.

With no one delivering food that night, the Corpse Seamstresses could only visit the Duke of Zhou in their dreams and see what there was to eat.

After Wen Qingkong shut the door, he went upstairs, took out the rice and flour he had bought earlier, and called Li Lan'er over.

"There is a clay pot at home, along with some firewood. We can just cook some rice porridge downstairs."

"There is no stove, so we cannot make much else."

Li Lan'er had not expected Wen Qingkong to have rice and flour at home. A flash of delight crossed her eyes.

She hurriedly nodded.

"You are not afraid?"

Wen Qingkong stopped her. She should have heard what was said downstairs just now.

With Li Lan'er's intelligence, it was impossible for her not to guess that he was the killer.

Li Lan'er gave him a sweet smile, like a little wildflower by the roadside. It was not breathtakingly beautiful, yet it brimmed with sunlight and hope.

"Whatever my husband does, this humble wife will stand by his side."

Her voice was soft, but Wen Qingkong sensed an unwavering resolve within it.

In that instant, Wen Qingkong's heart trembled.

"Go make dinner. Shuang'er must be hungry."

Wen Qingkong went downstairs with Li Lan'er and began preparing that day's dinner.