Chapter 14: Cousin Mingyu

When Shen Qianmo emerged from the Ministry of Justice, she found Feng Ze waiting at the entrance. The moment he saw her, a bright smile lit up his face as he approached and saluted. “You must be Brother Moxin. I heard it was you who cleared me of the murder charge. I am deeply grateful.”

Shen Qianmo was still dressed in men’s attire, half her face concealed behind a white jade mask. Feng Ze, straightforward and sincere as ever, failed to recognize her disguise, let alone realize she was the very Shen Qianmo who had occupied his thoughts.

Feng Ze insisted on inviting Moxin to a nearby teahouse for a chat, and Shen Qianmo, unable to refuse, agreed. The two walked side by side toward the teahouse, trailed by Lvzhu, whose expression remained rather grim.

As their figures receded into the distance, two young men sat by the window on the second floor of a restaurant across the street—one in black, one in white: Meng Yuanheng and Yun Yi. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Yun Yi teased, “Ah Heng, it seems your future princess is indeed remarkable!”

Meng Yuanheng’s expression remained as cold and inscrutable as ever, his dark eyes fathomless, betraying not the slightest emotion. Yet the whiteness of his knuckles gripping the teacup betrayed his agitation; he had held the cup for ages, unable to take another sip.

After his release, Feng Ze threw himself back into his daily rounds. He often thought of visiting the Shen family estate to see Shen Qianmo, but as she was still unmarried, it would be inappropriate to call on her too often. He also wished to converse more with Moxin; there was a strangely familiar ease between them, but his duties left him little time.

Lu Ziqing was similarly overwhelmed with work, unable to spare a thought for investigating Moxin’s true identity. With less than ten days until the imperial examinations, the capital’s security had become paramount. The recent case of the impostor Du Yu had enraged the emperor, who ordered the Ministry of Justice to investigate thoroughly.

Lu Ziqing truly was doing all he could. He sent men to the Du family in Suzhou, to the inns housing examinees from other provinces, and followed up on the black particles Shen Qianmo had found during the autopsy. But all led to dead ends. The officials sent to Suzhou would not return for at least ten days, leaving him feeling powerless and defeated.

Shen Qianmo, of course, knew nothing of Feng Ze’s thoughts. Her fondness for him stemmed largely from his resemblance to Yuan Lie, which brought her a sense of familiarity in a foreign world—a feeling unrelated to romance. When it came to matters of the heart, Shen Qianmo was calm and unrestrained, never one to seek love, yet willing to accept it should it come. Now, having been granted in marriage to Prince Xuan, she had no other intentions for the time being.

She could do little to help Lu Ziqing. As a forensic examiner, her duty was to speak for the dead; for other matters, she had neither the ability nor the right. Still, the coroner’s skills here seemed sorely lacking. Since she intended to reside in the capital, perhaps she ought to do something about it. Stroking the set of dissecting knives she had just crafted, Shen Qianmo pondered her next move.

Lvzhu and Madam Xu watched with alarm. Lvzhu, perplexed, asked, “Miss, why are you so different now?” So changed that they barely recognized her; she was no longer the timid and fearful young lady of the past.

Shen Qianmo smiled, a rare touch of playfulness in her tone. “Well then, do you like the old me, or the person I am now?”

“Of course we like you as you are now!” they replied in unison. Though her looks had been marred, the new Shen Qianmo was calm and wise, composed and poised. Especially when she applied herself to her work, the light in her eyes was mesmerizing.

“Then that settles it,” Shen Qianmo said, raising an eyebrow.

What Lu Ziqing had not expected was that three days later, before his men returned from Suzhou, the Du family’s second son, Du Yang, arrived in the capital. With him was a young man in white, exuding a scholarly grace—none other than the illustrious Xie Mingyu, known far and wide as the “Jade Virtuoso.”

The Xie family of Suzhou was renowned for its literary heritage, and their Biyue Academy boasted a long and celebrated history, a place countless scholars dreamed of attending. Xie Mingyu was the most outstanding of his generation, noted for his composure and literary talent. In recent years, he had begun assisting with academy affairs, clearly marked as the Xie family’s successor. Lu Ziqing dared not slight either guest; upon learning their purpose, he led them to the morgue to identify the body.

The Du family was among the most prominent in Suzhou. Du Yu, the eldest son, had studied under Master Songyue at Biyue Academy and, after passing the provincial exams three years prior, had secluded himself at the family’s country estate to prepare for the metropolitan exams. Yet months before the examination, Du Yu mysteriously vanished. The family searched everywhere, but to no avail. Upon hearing of a murder case in the capital involving a scholar named Du Yu, they were stricken with alarm and promptly sent Du Yang to investigate.

Though Lu Ziqing had long known the deceased was not Du Yu, hearing Du Yang’s confirmation still weighed heavily on him. This case was proving even more complex than anticipated, and now with Du Yu missing and his fate unknown, one crisis only gave way to another. The only path forward was to investigate the murder victim’s identity—but in this vast sea of people, where would they even begin?

Du Yang, relieved yet anxious, returned to Suzhou. It was good news not to find his brother among the dead, but his continued disappearance was a source of great worry.

Xie Mingyu, however, remained in the capital. His first reason for coming had been to accompany Du Yang. The Xie and Du families were old friends, and though Du Yu’s arrogance had never endeared him to Xie Mingyu, duty to their longstanding bond made his presence necessary.

His second reason was to see Shen Qianmo. He recalled their first meeting: he was thirteen, she a mere three, her mother newly deceased. He had traveled from Suzhou with his father, and found her in the garden beneath her mother’s favorite begonia tree, crying inconsolably for her mother. He had lifted her into his arms, comforting her as she sobbed into his shoulder. He saw her a couple more times afterward—though the exact occasions escaped him—but his impression was always of a small, tearful girl who clung to his sleeve with her wide, soulful eyes, reluctant to let him go.

By now, she must be eighteen. He wondered how much the weepy child of his memory had changed.

When Xie Mingyu finally met Shen Qianmo, he found it hard to reconcile the veiled, softly-spoken young woman who called him “cousin” with the pitiful, tear-streaked little girl he remembered. The self-assured composure, the gentle serenity—there was scarcely a trace of the child she’d once been.

Shen Qianmo herself was a little emotional upon seeing Xie Mingyu. In the original owner’s memories, he had always held a special place. She never forgot how, at age three, after her mother’s sudden passing, she had cried beneath that favorite begonia tree, and the gentle youth had picked her up and let her weep on his shoulder. Whenever he and her uncle visited the estate, Lady Cui dared not mistreat her. In those memories, Xie Mingyu was a source of comfort and healing.

Years had passed, and Xie Mingyu must now be twenty-eight. To Shen Qianmo’s surprise, he looked little changed—still as refined as ever, though now with added maturity and gravity, making him all the more captivating.

Yet, for such a striking and accomplished gentleman to have reached twenty-eight without marrying—or even being betrothed—was a source of endless curiosity.

Could it be, she wondered privately, that he prefers men? If so, how many unmarried women of the Dasheng dynasty would be left heartbroken!