Chapter Eighty-Two: The Looming Calamity

Chapter 82: Disaster Approaches

"What a ruthless man this is…" Dusk was falling. Two constables stood at the edge of the bamboo grove, silent for a long while before Constable Chen finally muttered these words.

"What is it?"

"That man… he sat here…"

It was as if he had slipped into another man's skin. Constable Chen took an uneasy, deep breath, crouched down, and picked up a branch from nearby. The area was thick with bamboo, but this branch had clearly been broken off from a different spot. Its leaves were already wilting.

"He must have been here waiting for someone… sitting on this side… the stool or chair must have been burned… he waited a long time. He was injured—seriously injured—yet he didn't plan to leave. He kept waiting here… At that point, he probably had already killed the entire Yang family…"

He spoke as he gazed at the ruins by the riverbank, plucked a leaf, considered it, and then chewed it, his brow immediately furrowing.

"This doesn't fit the female assassin's style. If it were some martial artist, they wouldn't have been so badly wounded…"

Deputy Constable Xu also frowned. "So you're saying the case of Gu Yanzhen was the work of someone else?"

"Quite possible, very possible. That man…" Constable Chen paused, "That man, for some reason, killed the Yang family. He was wounded, badly wounded, yet he still waited here. Then Gu Yanzhen and his servant arrived, and he killed them too. Look at the ground here…"

He pointed at the forest floor, where fallen bamboo leaves had accumulated, concealing subtle traces. In the dimming light, it was hard to make out the details.

"He chewed these leaves—they’re incredibly bitter—and kept chewing. Why? Because here, and here… he vomited twice. Not much, but he left the traces behind when he departed. Why did he linger here? Why did he vomit? Why chew these leaves? It can’t be a strange fetish…" Constable Chen paused. "He was wounded, gravely so, and needed the leaves to stay alert. The injury was so severe it made him vomit twice. He sat here, waiting—not because he was confident he could kill, but because… he had to see who would appear…"

Deputy Constable Xu looked at the chewed leaf remnants and the vomit. "This just made things a lot more complicated."

"I know it's complicated." Constable Chen spat out the chewed leaves and tossed aside the branch. "I really don’t want to chew another one… The Yang brothers have been in the kidnapping business for years—sometimes for murder, sometimes at the behest of the rich to abduct women they fancied. Gu Yanzhen coming here at night shows he was no good man either—likely hired them for a kidnapping. As for the one who sat here, who knows if his family was kidnapped, or he himself was, so he had to wait here, waiting for the mastermind behind it all…"

"Anyone capable of wiping out the entire Yang family is a formidable and ruthless character. I doubt it was him who was kidnapped," Xu said.

"Too ruthless…" Constable Chen sighed. "To slaughter the Yang family, then, mortally wounded, wait quietly for the mastermind to appear, and then kill Gu Yanzhen and his servant as well… Lao Xu, how many fugitives have we dealt with over the years? How many could do this?"

"Could it have been the female assassin, wounded because someone dear to her was kidnapped and threatened by the Yangs? She kills the family, waits here for Gu Yanzhen to arrive, and then kills him too?"

"It's a possibility. But the next day, when she killed the two Gu family servants, she was as lively as ever…" Constable Chen shook his head. "Perhaps this person knows no martial arts, but is as ruthless as they come—merciless to others, ruthless to themselves, willing to risk their life just to see the mastermind face to face, because they can't stand being watched from the shadows. Such a person is terrifying…"

"With the case changed, how do we report this?" Deputy Constable Xu ventured.

"How else? The magistrate has already spoken. We can’t just go and say maybe it's another case. And what can this evidence prove? Nothing solid. The rain would have washed it all away anyway." Constable Chen patted a nearby bamboo, shaking his head. "We'll combine the cases. Confirm everything as the work of the female assassin and issue a sea-wide warrant. The Yang brothers have killed at least a dozen people, and Gu Yanzhen, who commissioned the abduction, was no better. If my family were kidnapped, I'd slaughter them all too! Until we know more, we'll investigate quietly ourselves."

In the tales of folk heroes, they say so-and-so is honest and upright, loved by the people. But in reality, even uprightness has its bounds. It's fine to be righteous over minor things, but if you're stubborn as an ox over everything, you’ll never get far—especially when your superiors could be scolded, blamed, and have their performance reviews affected. If you defy them, don’t be surprised if you’re sidelined the very next day. Such matters are best reported only once fully investigated, to everyone's satisfaction.

When Constable Chen finished, old Xu nodded in agreement. "That's how it should be."

Soon after, the rain began to fall heavily.

...

By mid-June, the floods from the upper reaches of the Yangtze began to make their mark.

When Ning Yi returned to Jiangning, refugees were already drifting in from the west. It was only the beginning—the city’s atmosphere had grown tense, though not overtly. Anyone with experience could sense what was coming.

He met again with Elder Qin, Elder Kang, and Li Pin, who, like the others, inquired after his burned left hand. Ning Yi deflected their concerns with the same story he’d told the Su family. Su Chonghua had urged him to rest, but it was hardly practical to recuperate for half a year. After a few days, he was back at Yushan Academy, teaching again.

The high-proof distillation experiment was more or less settled. Without Lu Hongti staying in the courtyard, Ning Yi no longer bothered to conduct daily experiments there. His afternoons were spent by the Qinhuai River, playing chess and chatting with Elder Qin. In his absence, Li Pin had taken over lessons for the children, so upon his return, Ning Yi invited him to dinner as thanks. Li Pin, much like Elder Qin and Elder Kang, was preoccupied with the matter of the refugees.

"...So far, four areas upstream have been flooded. The Yellow River’s embankment has broken. By July, refugees will pour in like a tide—the gates will be shut tight again. Grain prices are soaring already. Who knows how many will die this autumn…" The consensus was that many would perish this autumn, though the city showed little sign of unrest. Life went on—brothels and pleasure boats still did brisk business, and the scholars and officials, ever so concerned for the state, composed some rather decent poems expressing their worries for the nation.

These days, grain carts could be seen entering and leaving the Su residence. Given the usual pattern in times of disaster, the wealthy were already hoarding food. Su Tan’er was troubled—but in her own way.

"Business everywhere is dropping. When the gates close around mid- to late July, shops inside the city will have to shut down… We’ll need to set up soup kitchens both inside and outside the city, and donate a large stock to the authorities. We don't have many homing pigeons left, and if they're shot down and eaten, it’ll be even worse. Hiring couriers and fast horses will be even more costly. A few months, and all our plans may be delayed…"

She spoke of this in the evening, walking with Ning Yi along the second-floor corridor, snacking as she talked. She had been busy lately, yet despite her complaints, her spirits seemed high—perhaps the royal merchant matter was progressing well.

At the end of June, while dining at the Bamboo Records main shop, Ning Yi ran into Yuan Jin’er. She had come, bored, to visit Sister Yunzhu, and when she saw Ning Yi, she volunteered to bring him a bowl of preserved egg and lean pork congee, slamming it onto the table in front of him, startling him. When he saw the somewhat familiar figure, he laughed. "Waiter, that's not very professional. Be careful or someone will file a complaint."

"Let them complain!" Yuan Jin’er put her hands on her hips, made a mischievous face, and disappeared inside. Soon, Nie Yunzhu came out with a smile, followed by Yuan Jin’er. After sitting at the table frowning for a while, Yuan Jin’er suddenly said, "Poet Ning, write me a poem."

Ning Yi ate his congee, nodding. "All right."

"What?" Her shock at his ready response left her speechless.

"Will you really write one for me?"

"You helped with the preserved egg promotion last time. Since you’re asking now, there’s no reason to refuse."

"Hmph, last time it was for Sister Yunzhu." Yuan Jin’er cupped her chin, tapping her cheek as she pondered. "But didn’t that Daoist only write two poems?"

"This time, just say it was written by a monk."

Yuan Jin’er stifled a laugh. "But I’ll sing it for everyone, you know? I’ll say it was written specially for me by Ning Liheng!"

Ning Yi spread his hands. Yuan Jin’er watched him, then looked at Nie Yunzhu. "You’re not bad, but I still don’t like you. Let’s go, Sister Yunzhu. I don’t want his poem, and I don’t want to talk to him!"

She pulled Nie Yunzhu away, despite her protests. Ning Yi had already heard from Nie Yunzhu about Yuan Jin’er’s grudge—it was all because he had supported Qilan at the courtesan contest. There was no reasoning with it, nor was there any need.

By late June, the dog days of summer had yet to arrive, but the heat was oppressive. The floods upstream and the growing disaster cast a stifling gloom over Jiangning.

Floods, refugees, the students in the academy, and occasional discussions with Li Pin—Ning Yi watched the movements of the authorities as well. After Gu Yanzhen’s death, inquiries had been made with both Li Pin and Nie Yunzhu. Business at Bamboo Records was thriving; the Su family was busy preparing for the coming crisis. Su Tan’er pressed on with her plans—one day, she brought home a square of brilliantly colored silk, showing it to Ning Yi in secret one night. "Isn’t it beautiful?"

That afternoon, after congee, Ning Yi visited the Qinhuai River to play chess with Elder Qin and Elder Kang. The flood season was nearing its end, but perhaps one last surge remained. The two old men were discussing post-flood relief.

"Shaohé is in Jiangzhou. He’ll be busy in the days ahead. Disaster relief is unlike anything else—urgent business. Shiyuan must guide him well." Kang Xian referred to Qin Shiyuan’s eldest son, now an official in Jiangzhou. Qin Shiyuan nodded. "I’ve sent several letters these past two months. All that needs saying has been said. Most of what we know comes from his replies."

The elders continued their conversation as Ning Yi considered his own thoughts. Before long, Elder Qin turned to him. Ning Yi smiled, "I was just thinking… I’ll sort it out tonight and bring it tomorrow. If it's useful… well, I’ll present two things to you, Elder Qin."