The Mystery of Zhang Gong Chapter 10
Zhang Ping Said, “This Student Will Try His Best To Not Let Down Master’s Expectation. I’ll Do My Best To Climb On It.”
Zhang Ping followed Wang Yan into a quiet room. Wang Yan ordered someone to serve tea before dismissing everyone and closing the doors.
“For this case, I wasn’t as insightful as you; after all, you knew the ins and outs more than me. But, you found a criminal and I found a criminal; in the end, there wasn’t much difference.”
Zhang Ping said, “Today, in the court-hall, if Master Wang hadn’t forced Li Qi then this case would only be solved after Jin Lifa woke up.”
Wang Yan paced forward two steps. “Yes, yes. The evidence against Li Qi was actually insufficient; I was just bluffing.”
“The clothes Li Qi wore when he committed the crime should be in his room – on the beam of the roof or under the floor tiles.”
Wang Yan’s brows pinched together as he studied Zhang Ping. “Are you saying you already guessed Li Qi was the perpetrator?”
Zhang Ping slowly said, “Jin Lifa was stabbed from the front. The student only guessed the perpetrator to be someone from the troupe. It was Master who found out it was Li Qi.”
Wang Yan snorted heavily; he pulled out a chair and sat on it. “I don’t need you to leave me some face; I won’t believe it. How did you identify the main perpetrator’s identity? Come tell me.”
Wang Yan raised his sleeves to pour tea; in the dense tea-mist, Zhang Ping’s reflection lowered his eyelids.
“This student just thought, not a lot of people in the world knows how to use drugs.”
If an ordinary person went to a pharmacy to prepare Ecstasy or bought some strange medicinal products, it’d definitely get noticed.
And the crucial point to Li Niang’s case were drugs; she was defiled under the effects of drugs, then was harmed by drugs.
Wang Yan’s hands slightly paused. “I see. Yes, in this world, those who cover their faces to commit crimes whilst also using a fragrance would probably only come down to two types of people.”
One would be (1) flower thieves accustomed to wandering Jianghu; however, to become intimate with Li Niang for several months wasn’t the style of a flower thief.
The other type was that of a physician.
Physicians could enter a residence’s inner rooms and see Li Niang; since he would’ve smelt of medicinal herbs, he had to use a strong fragrance to cover it.
This case was like a dusty cobweb and Zhang Ping just coincidentally found the crucial thread; it wasn’t a big deal.
Wang Yan picked up his teacup. “When Jin Lifa was harmed, you guessed it was the murderer who killed Li Niang who did it – was it because of your script? Actually, it could’ve been a vendetta. According to my many years of experience, several seemingly-related cases turned out to be just coincidences and had different inside stories. You just happened to come across a rarity.”
Zhang Ping said, “Master is right. In the beginning, nobody could guess these two cases were related because there was no evidence. It was clear that two people intended to murder Jin Lifa. The assailant had to be a member of the troupe and the other person had to be responsible for setting up the puzzle. However, who was the mastermind, who was the accomplice, and the reason behind the assault were all unclear.”
Wang Yan turned his teacup. “Since everything was unclear, how did you link it to Li Niang’s case?”
Zhang Ping continued wearing that dead expression Wang Yan found displeasing to the eye to say, “This student had two pieces of evidence. One – when Mr Jin was in a coma, he mentioned the Great Yellow Immortal.”
“He was overwhelmed by the foulness of manure; his muddle-headed words were untrustworthy.”
“Two – when Master came to question me, you asked about what happened that year. You hadn’t asked before, but when suddenly asked it became obvious the perpetrator had deliberately leaked some information to Master.”
Wang Yan turned his teacup again. “What you’re saying is, me believing in the perpetrator’s lies had, on the contrary, given you clues?”
In a steady tempo, Zhang Ping said, “This student just thought the perpetrator knew and cared too much about Li Niang’s matter. This wouldn’t be the case if the perpetrator had nothing to do with her. Additionally, this student knew that the troupe had invited a physician over to treat his throat, so the cause of Mr Jin’s diarrhea that night must’ve been laxatives-”
Wang Yan interrupted him and waved his hand. “Okay, okay, okay – you can leave now.”
This case was clearly not that small, but with how Zhang Ping described it, it’s as if it wasn’t a big deal.
When Wang Yan carefully thought over it, he realised it truly wasn’t a complicated matter. However, the fact he unexpectedly couldn’t see through it made Wang Yan feel a suffocating panic. Looking at Zhang Ping made him feel even more irritatingly panicked.
Although he felt this way, when Zhang Ping was about to cross the threshold, Wang Yan spoke again. “By the way, for the preliminary exam this year, you better climb onto the list. I want to see exactly what role you’d play when you enter the imperial court.”
Zhang Ping said, “This student will try his best to not let down Master’s expectations. I’ll do my best to climb on it.” He cupped his hands respectfully before leaving.
»»————-¤————-««
When he left the Ministry of Justice, the market was already bustling with activity. Zhang Ping searched through his Changshan and fished out a few coins from a narrow slit; he’d hidden it in a hurry when he was taken to the Ministry of Justice. When he entered his prison cell and changed into the prisoners’ uniform, his Changshan was stripped off and torn, but his money still remained.
Zhang Ping took the money to a stall by the streets; he drank a bowl of porridge and ate half a pancake.
The benefits of being in the Capital was its large size and population; nobody took notice of anyone, even if they’d just come out of prison.
After eating breakfast, Zhang Ping followed the crowd out of the city gates. Outside the Capital, the reed leaves by the river were completely plucked; sticks of reed stems stood upright under the sun, completely bare.
Zhang Ping walked east following the river. He knew there was a depression in the waters, with reeds growing in the valley over there; there shouldn’t be anyone around.
At noon, Zhang Ping went back to his dorm with reed leaves pocketed; Chen Chuo already knew the case was over, so, with great joy, he bought some alcohol and food from the streets to celebrate.
After a bath, Zhang Ping didn’t eat nor drink; instead, he began moving around in the yard. He soaked the reed leaves in water and meticulously picked out several pickled salted-duck eggs from their jar one by one.
In the evening, Lan Jue went back to his residence from his ministry yamen; just as the sedan chair arrived by the entrance, its speed suddenly became abnormal.
Lan Jue said, “Which scholar is trying to curry favour with me? You’re even blocking the entrance to send gifts, causing my servants to have to expel you and agitate me.”
Lan Jue lifted a crack of his sedan curtain and distantly saw a familiar figure.
“Bring me his gift so I can take a look.”
The entourage paused before responding with a ‘yes’; after a while, they carried something over. It was a lidded basket made of bamboo strips.
Lan Jue opened the lid. Filling half the basket were neatly placed Zongzi, the reed leaves carrying a fragrant scent – still warm.
Lan Jue placed the lid back on, handed the basket back to the entourage, and indifferently said, “Throw it away.”
The next day was the Dragon Boat Festival, so he didn’t have to attend court early in the morning; Lan Hui was taken away to the Liu Residence, so only Lan Jue and a group of servants were left in the big residence.
Lan Jue felt quite dispirited. These past few years, he was always alone during Chinese New Year and other festivities; no matter how well-made the Zongzi from his kitchen were, it didn’t taste like much when eating alone.
Overcome with boredom, he changed into thin clothing, a fan tucked inside his sleeve, and exited his residence.
He let his small sedan chair stop near the market. Lan Jue got off the sedan chair and casually looked around; the sun was poisonous, so he walked along the shady side of the street. He walked past a stall selling colourful sachets. Ahead, under an old wall, that stall was still erected, the tables and chairs under the scaffolding still as empty as anything without even half a customer.
The scholar selling noodles wasn’t standing by the stove either; limply, under the shade of the scaffolding, he was holding a book reading.
Lan Jue walked to the stall; Zhang Ping raised his head and slowly stood up.
Lan Jue asked, “Are there any more noodles?”
Zhang Ping expressionlessly answered, “No. There’s porridge and Zongzi.”
Lan Jue walked under the scaffolding and sat down on an empty seat. Zhang Ping carried over a bowl of porridge and two serves of Zongzi, setting them onto the table.
It was millet porridge, boiled until it was rather thick, and had pieces of white fragments inside. Lan Jue tasted it. They were salted egg whites.
Lan Jue casually asked, “By the way, is Chen Chuo alright?”
Zhang Ping serenely answered, “Not alright. He ate too much Zongzi and was too full; he’s currently asleep in bed.”
Lan Jue peeled open a Zongzi; it was made with jujube.
“There are egg whites in the porridge, so why isn’t this egg-yolk Zongzi?”
Zhang Ping said depressingly, “Egg-yolk Zongzi, finished.”
Just then, Lan Jue saw with sweeping eyes a shallow basket with several duck eggs still lying inside on a table.
“Then I’ll just get a salted duck egg, with a green shell.”
Zhang Ping hummed in response and turned around; from the table came pounding thumps.
After a while, a white porcelain plate was placed in front of Lan Jue, and Lan Jue couldn’t help but laugh.
On the plate laid two salted egg yolks dripping with golden-red oil.
(1) Flower thief – rapist
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