279 - Destroyer of Ice and Fire

Good fortune often hides within misfortune. While Ning Song Wu was busy handling governmental affairs and preparing to return to the capital, a drowned male corpse was discovered downstream in the Zi Mo River. The coroner's conclusion: male, aged between twenty and thirty. The deceased's face was swollen, the skin and hair had peeled off, the lips turned outward, the eyes protruding. The tip of the left pinky finger was missing, likely an injury from when he was alive. There was a callus on the web of the right hand, and sword wounds on his right leg and abdomen – non-fatal. The fatal wound was a blow from a hard stone behind the ear. The body had started to bloat, and death was estimated to have occurred three to five days ago. The day after the corpse discovery announcement was made, Qin Luo Fu came to the yamen to report a case. Ning Song Wu lamented how things had changed. Since their last meeting in the mulberry grove, Qin Luo Fu now looked exhausted, her eyes vacant and her hair disheveled, as if she hadn't slept in days. Panting heavily, Cha Le said, “Sir, this Qin family lady keeps insisting on seeing you. I couldn’t stop her.” “Sir, my husband has been missing for days. That floating corpse can't be him, can it? He’s so young, how could he be dead...” Qin Luo Fu wept uncontrollably. Ning Song Wu found himself at a loss, unsure how to comfort her. “Calm yourself, gather your thoughts, and tell me the specifics.” Qin Luo Fu explained that half a month ago, she had brought some cloth from the countryside to sell to Jiang Yun in the city. She hadn’t seen Jiang Yun in a long time and decided to stay for a few days. However, Jiang Yun left five days ago to deliver goods and hadn't returned. When Jiang Yun had been out of touch for days, Qin Luo Fu came to report to the authorities and found the bulletin at the yamen gate. Worried that her husband had met with an accident, she became emotional. Remembering Ning Song Wu's previous help, she believed he was a good official and cried, begging Cha Le to let her meet him. Cha Le told her to return home and wait for notification, as the official was busy. But Qin Luo Fu cried and struggled, running into the yamen regardless. Ning Song Wu questioned further: “I understand your situation. The body is swollen beyond recognition, making identification difficult. Can you tell me if Jiang Yun had any distinctive features, like a birthmark or personal items?” Immediately, Qin Luo Fu replied, “He didn’t have a birthmark. He always carried a sachet with him. It has a yellow plum blossom embroidered on the front, and the character ‘Jiang’ stitched in black on the back.” “Also, he recently injured himself while cutting cloth, losing the tip of his left pinky finger.” “Go home for now. We will investigate thoroughly. Don’t worry excessively; there are no definite signs yet that the deceased is Jiang Yun,” Ning Song Wu reassured her. The body did indeed carry the sachet Qin Luo Fu described, and the missing pinky tip matched as well, though Ning Song Wu refrained from telling her this. Ning Song Wu also had doubts. Jiang Yun, a man who made a living selling cloth, shouldn’t develop calluses on the web of his right hand from labor-intensive work. After sending Qin Luo Fu away, Ning Song Wu dispatched someone to investigate the Li family tailor shop on the city’s southern outskirts. The corpse was found in the Wu village section of the downstream Zi Mo River, just three miles from the shop. The tailor shop owner confirmed that Jiang Yun had delivered three rolls of fine silk at dusk five days ago. The shop owner said, “I saw his left hand wrapped in cloth, seemingly injured, and dust on his clothes. Out of concern, I asked how he got so disheveled. He said he fell and hurt his hand while cutting cloth by accident.” The shop owner continued, “He was kindhearted, too. The three rolls of fine silk should’ve fetched him three taels and sixty wens, but he said times were hard for everyone and only took three taels. After a brief chat, he hurried off, saying his wife was waiting for him to return for dinner.” The three taels of silver found on the body matched up, indicating the killer did not rob him. This preliminary evidence made it likely that the deceased was indeed Jiang Yun. Ning Song Wu worried that the case's unresolved nature might delay his departure for the capital, causing restless nights. The creaking of the chaise longue only exacerbated Ran Fan Yin's irritation, stripping away her drowsiness. Ran Fan Yin asked why he couldn’t sleep. Though initially reluctant to tell her, Ning Song Wu recognized her as the most talented woman in the capital, her knowledge far surpassing his. She might provide some valuable insight, so he sought her counsel. Ran Fan Yin summarized, “From what you’ve told me, Jiang Yun went missing five days ago, and his body was found downstream from the tailor shop, three miles away. The shop owner might be the last to have seen him.” Ning Song Wu promptly replied, “That’s the preliminary conclusion.” “But a missing person’s timeline doesn’t confirm Jiang Yun’s death that night. Suppose Jiang Yun died three days ago; do you recall that night?” Ran Fan Yin hinted at the rainstorm three nights ago. * Three nights ago. As usual, one slept in the bed, the other in the chaise longue. Deep into the night, a thunderstorm burst forth. Having feared thunder since childhood, Ran Fan Yin always needed Wen Xiang’s company during such storms. This time, however, it seemed inappropriate to ask Wen Xiang. Curled up in bed, Ran Fan Yin felt her whole body go limp, her heart racing and all limbs trembling uncontrollably. A suffocating sensation overwhelmed her as if invisible hands were strangling her. It mirrored a rainstorm from over a decade ago. Stricken with fear, she whimpered softly, wondering if death was near. Sensing Ran Fan Yin’s distress, Ning Song Wu approached and found her bundled tightly in the quilt. He tried to loosen it slightly to let her breathe. “Are you unwell? Should I call a doctor?” Ning Song Wu struggled as she clutched the quilt tightly. “No need. Could you stay by my bedside?” Ran Fan Yin's voice trembled as she made her quiet plea. Ning Song Wu insisted, “Are you sure? Should I call Aunt Hua over? She knows some medicine.” Zhou Hua Xiu, wary of Ning Song Wu’s identity being exposed, had learned some medical skills. Though Ning Song Wu's constitution was fragile, she had rarely fallen seriously ill. “No need, I’ll settle down soon.” Slowly, Ran Fan Yin opened the quilt, revealing a pale face, her fine hair damp and clinging to her cheeks.