Chapter Fifty-Eight: Struck by an Arrow, The Courtesan

Di Ying picked up a pair of scissors from the case file and raised them toward Shen Qi. “These belong to the owner of the house and were found lodged in his chest. This proves that the murderer did not arrive with the intention to kill; it was a spur-of-the-moment act. The room was ransacked, all valuables missing. Afterward, the constables apprehended you in the Flower Pavilion. The bloodstained clothes were still on you. The jewelry and silver you gifted to the madam and the girls at the pavilion bore bloodstains and the owner’s marks. And perhaps you are unaware—after you killed him and fled in haste, you were seen by the night watchman!”

Hearing this, Shen Qi lowered his head and obediently signed and sealed his confession.

The next female offender was brought forth.

Di Ying addressed her directly: “You broke the bonds of marriage, engaged in an illicit affair, and conspired with your lover to murder your husband. I have personally examined your husband’s remains. The marks on the bones show that at least two people were involved in his death: one covered his mouth, the other forced poison down his throat. The one who covered his mouth was a head and a half shorter than the victim, and the excessive force fractured the spine. Your height matches this deduction. Moreover, you have been meeting your lover in secret for half a year; there are witnesses. Let us bring in the witness and your lover, and see how you might still argue your innocence.”

One by one, the constables brought them in. The evidence was irrefutable. The woman and her lover confessed and accepted their fate.

For the next case of domestic violence, Di Ying delivered the verdict at once.

“Lin Dao, you and your mother have suffered years of beatings and abuse at the hands of your father. You even reported it to the authorities, but to no avail. Later, while your father slept in a drunken stupor, you and your mother joined forces and killed him. I declare you both innocent. Take your mother, and go home.”

These words stunned everyone, even the citizens gathered outside to listen.

Di Ying surveyed those around him, rose to his feet, and declared solemnly, “A household is built by each living individual within it. Every person is also a member of the state, not wholly the property of another. Thus, in my court, this is not merely a family matter. Do not treat wives, children, or husbands as mere possessions. Learn to respect, tolerate, and understand one another—only then will your household stand firm. Those who abuse and batter their families are the true home-wreckers. If a wife or child, after suffering prolonged abuse, should strike back, my judgment is clear: they are innocent. Of course, this applies only to those who have endured long-term mistreatment.”

No sooner had his words fallen than applause and cheers rang out inside and outside the hall. Lin Dao and his mother knelt deeply in gratitude.

In this way, Di Ying worked tirelessly, day and night, to resolve the backlog of cases of every kind.

…

Fifteen days later.

Unable to contain himself, Wu Xiangjin heard the servants in his house whispering about the marvelous and formidable official, Judge Di. He slipped out of the residence. He didn’t believe this man was so impressive, and even if he was, he doubted that anyone would dare touch the Wu family. Wu Jianhui? He didn’t count! That man had always been at odds with his father—and really, with everyone except His Majesty. He acted superior to all, and it was no surprise he ended up dead.

But Wu Xiangjin was different. His Majesty had always intended to pass the throne to his father, Wu Qiongsi. One day, he, Wu Xiangjin, would be a prince. Who would dare touch him or his family?

Wu Xiangjin thought his father’s keeping him confined at home was unnecessary. The more he listened, the more vexed he became, so he slipped out. Still, he did not go alone; he brought twenty guards—not because he was wary of Di Ying, but because he was used to such ostentation. When there was nothing to do, it was a show of power; when there was trouble, he had manpower at his disposal.

Having been cooped up for fifteen days, Wu Xiangjin rode straight for the northern outskirts as soon as he left the gates. The mountains there were higher, the forests denser, the game more plentiful, and the land belonged to no one. He wanted to ride hard, hunt freely, and vent the stifled frustration of the past days.

Arrow after arrow flew, and soon a few pheasants and rabbits hung from either flank of his horse. But such small game did not satisfy him; spurring his horse, he plunged deeper into the woods. The guards dared not stop him—anyone who spoiled the second young master’s mood would lose his head. All they could do was follow and keep a careful watch on their surroundings.

Suddenly, not far ahead, amidst the trees and snow, a fiery red fox appeared. It seemed to have just emerged to forage, glancing about when it saw the group approach. Startled, it turned and ran. Wu Xiangjin’s excitement surged. He chased after it, nocking arrow after arrow, shooting at the darting form of the fox.

At a steep slope, the frantic fox failed to climb and instead dove into a thick patch of grass. Wu Xiangjin reined in his horse, held his breath, and drew his bow with all his might. The arrow flew.

A sharp cry rang out.

Wu Xiangjin was puzzled. Had the fox become a spirit, like in those storybooks? He thought of the tales where foxes transformed into celestial beauties, and his mouth nearly watered at the thought. He was about to urge his horse forward when the clump of grass rustled violently, dry stalks and leaves crackling. Then, stepping forth, was a young man with a noble face and phoenix eyes, his hair half swept up, dressed in a plain outer robe, clutching his bleeding arm—a slightly plump man.

Wu Xiangjin couldn’t help but curse. “Damn it, why is it a male fox?”

Di Ying said nothing. He pressed his bleeding arm, the arrow still lodged in it, and turned to walk away.

Wu Xiangjin’s heart skipped a beat as he watched the figure. He’d heard foxes bore grudges. But he scoffed at the thought. He feared no man, let alone a fox.

Just then, a young deer bounded past, and Wu Xiangjin gave chase, forgetting all about the fox. To him, whether it was a man or a fox, an injury was just that—no distinction, and certainly no need for responsibility.

After he’d hunted to his heart’s content, Wu Xiangjin headed straight for the capital’s most famous pleasure house—The Myriad Blossoms Pavilion. He had a beloved there, whom he hadn’t seen for fifteen days and was longing for.

The madam greeted him with a smile as bright as a chrysanthemum. Wu Xiangjin followed his usual routine: heading straight to the courtesan’s chamber, two guards stationed outside the door, and the rest posted throughout the first and second floors. They were all used to such arrangements. Wu Xiangjin was even more familiar with the place.

Once inside, he embraced the beauty, eager to soothe his lovesick longing. But before he could proceed, the door opened again.