Chapter 23: The Pei Family Produces Eccentrics

Sunlight fell upon the locust trees of Chang’an, shimmering like a layer of crystalline frost. Beneath the shade, pedestrians moved steadily westward toward the city’s canal.

At this moment, the western canal resembled a chaotic stew.

A headless female corpse lay covered by a thin white cloth. A gust of wind swirled, scattering withered leaves gently onto the fabric, as if marking a freshly made grave, adding a touch of sorrow.

Chen, the scholar officiating at Wannian County’s government office, set aside his belongings and commanded, "The murderer killed and discarded the body here. Summon all eyewitnesses within a hundred li of this location."

“Old man, how can you be so sure this is the original crime scene?”

A woman’s voice rang out like a bell, startling those nearby. It was Song Ruozhao, the third lady of the Song family, who slowly pushed through the crowd toward the headless corpse.

She lifted the white cloth covering the body. The onlookers recoiled in fear, but she remained unfazed, inspecting the decayed flesh with practiced ease, as if accustomed to such sights daily.

The corpse was severely decomposed, like a ripe fruit ready to fall apart at a touch, making identification by birthmarks or other features impossible.

“This is not the original crime scene. This canal is fed by the Yi Valley from Zhongnan Mountain, flowing through Baobei and then northward into Qujiang, from which it is artificially diverted here,” she explained.

A duckweed floated out from the sleeve’s corner of the deceased. She pointed confidently, “This is Qujiang. The coarse, yellowed clothing and the aquatic plants caught on it exist only in Qujiang.”

“I suggest the county sheriff conduct a thorough investigation upstream along Qujiang. Judging by the corpse’s decay, the time of death should be around the Qingming Festival.”

Chen, slightly displeased, retorted, “Third Lady Song, the government has its own medical examiner. You, as a new bride of the Chen family, should be demure and reserved. Your interference is improper. It’s best you do not involve yourself.”

Song Ruolu, the third sister, scoffed and rejected his stance, “If my husband’s family is bound by such old prejudices, confining women to the household and clipping my wings so I must depend on others, then I, Song Ruolun, would rather live humbly in a thatched hut, caring for my parents, than remain with that family.”

“Empty words...” Chen’s brow furrowed as he raised his hand to slap her, but his palm froze mid-air.

His wrist suddenly ached. Chen turned away, sweat breaking out along his spine at the sharp, commanding gaze of Song Ruozhao. Forcing calm, he pointed angrily, “You second daughter of the Song family, step aside!”

“County Official Chen, you’d better focus on handling this case. The people are waiting for your report,” Song Ruozhao said with the air of one ordering a subordinate, forcefully brushing his hand aside.

The third sister stared blankly at that defiant face, thoughts swirling rapidly about her second sister—enigmatic, inscrutable. In her reverie, she shuddered involuntarily.

Covering her nose with an embroidered handkerchief, Song Ruozhao suddenly felt a chill as the mingled scents of cilantro and fish mint rose sharply. She then reacted, “The Prefect of Pei Mansion has arrived.”

“The Prefect has heard that Third Lady is meticulous in autopsies. County Official, why not set aside your prejudices and let her assist you?” Pei Wenxu, knowing the third sister’s keen interest in the body, readily consented.

Chen could not refuse, “Very well, Third Lady, please assist us on this inspection.”

Thinking of the thorny marriage with the Chen family, entering that den where the autopsy might be interrupted by old grievances, the third sister’s eyes showed a helpless resignation to unfortunate timing.

---

Song Ruozhao, considering her purpose, courteously greeted Pei Wenxu with genuine sincerity: “Your tea is exquisite, Prefect. I had hoped to visit, but now I must accompany my third sister to the autopsy. Fate does not seem to favor me today.”

Pei Wenxu, sensing a kindred spirit, immediately gestured, “Carry the body into the Jingzhao Prefecture. This case will be handled directly by the prefecture.”

Chen was flattered, “Thank you, Prefect, for your kindness.”

Pei Wenxu smiled, “No, you should thank my tea.”

Chen was speechless.

Recalling the tea, Chen thought bitterly of his young daughter married into the Pei household, a source of much hardship.

Inside Jingzhao Prefecture, it was just as before—same person, same tea, the same cilantro and fish mint, though the pond no longer held lotus blooms.

Song Ruozhao’s sharp eyes noticed among the red-and-green foliage an old man wielding a hoe, tears streaming down his face.

Pei Wenxu explained, “My father, grieving the loss of his beloved fish, seeks distraction through work. He’s always been tearful, but once our tea is brewed, he’ll stop.”

The prefect had become a tea master, teaching with great care. The old man in the field channeled his sorrow into labor, crying louder and louder, disrupting the tea ceremony as the sound entered one ear and left the other.

Just as his son said, when the tea was ready, the old man ceased crying and hurried over to claim a cup of the ancestral brew.

“The cilantro isn’t fresh,” he remarked, chewing noisily. After biting into some dirt, he glanced into the tea cup, “You little villain, you didn’t even wash the fish mint properly!”

The “villain” replied, “Of course not; that cup was for waste.”

“…”

A distant figure caught his eye sharply. He quickly instructed, “Your mother is coming. She doesn’t like it weak; remember to add more cilantro.”

This family was truly one of wonders, Song Ruozhao thought.

The matron of the Pei household approached with a radiant smile, “Please, make room—”

Ruozhao rose hastily, politely stepping aside.

But the lady pressed gently on her shoulder, signaling no need for formality, inviting her to sit comfortably.

Song Ruozhao was puzzled.

Why was no one else moving to give up their seat? When she offered hers, the matron declined.

The Pei matron’s gaze was warm, as if admiring a treasured jade: “Time flies. You’re even more striking than I imagined.”

Ruozhao responded with proper courtesy, then heard her ask:

---

“Your second sister was born on the second day of the fourth lunar month in the Year of the Sheep.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Pei Wenxu leaned in teasingly, “Three hundred and sixty days in a year, and you were born on the same day as me. Do you like me, perhaps?”

Dogtooth, unable to endure this nonsense, retorted, “My lord, it’s not like that.”

The matron smiled silently, then asked, “What flowers do you like?”

“Cotton tree flowers.”

“Have you promised yourself to anyone?”

“To be frank, a young gentleman came seeking my hand half a month ago.”

With even the undergarment matter matching, Pei matron suddenly understood.

She recalled the past: “Your mother and I were close friends. Because you and A Xu share the same birthday, our families made a marriage pact. But later, due to your mental condition, your mother ceased mentioning it.”

She regarded her son with mild disappointment, “It seems you’re not a suitable match after all.”

The son bristled, “Mother, how can you belittle Lady Song? She is nothing like the rumors say—careful, clever, and she even helped me capture a criminal!”

“Your mother means you are unworthy!” Pei’s father explained calmly.

“…”

Song Ruozhao declined gently, “Didn’t you just hear? I said a young gentleman came seeking me half a month ago. What about the marriage pact…”

“Don’t ask what to do. I’ve already thought of a solution!” Pei’s mother interrupted, startling Ruozhao before she could say, “How can that be valid?”

“Secret dealings are never proper. I’ll give your suitor a sum to end the engagement. You both part amicably. That way, A Xu can openly court you—and no more wearing the wrong young gentleman’s underclothes!”

Song Ruozhao and Pei Wenxu both reacted in stunned silence.