The splendor of the Red Chamber, the power that reigns supreme.

Chapter 132 Who is the murderer? Jinshan is in a dilemma.

Ximen Qing rode away from the filthy and dilapidated militia office, and as soon as he turned into the main street of Qinghe County, the scene before him changed completely!

People gathered, and carriages and horses bustled about. Shops lined the streets, their signs waving in the wind.

Amidst the fragrance of perfume and the swaying of red sleeves, in the brothels and theaters along the street, young women dressed in red and green lean against the vermilion railings upstairs. Their hair is half-undone, their cheeks are flushed with smiles, some cracking melon seeds, others waving round fans, their eyes glancing darting towards the street, their voices like nightingales and their laughter like sweet whispers.

Ximen Qing rode his tall horse slowly through the crowd. His luxurious attire, extraordinary demeanor, and face, which was known to everyone in Qinghe County, exuded an invisible aura of power. Pedestrians and merchants alike gave way upon seeing him, and even familiar shopkeepers bowed and greeted him from behind their counters, saying, "Greetings, sir."

Before long, they arrived at their newly opened silk shop. The shop had been completely renovated and was quite impressive. It had six spacious storefronts, with gleaming vermilion-lacquered doorposts and snow-white newly pasted window lattice paper. Two rows of eight large red palace lanterns hung under the eaves, which, though not lit, exuded a festive atmosphere even in the daytime.

The congratulatory couplets were numerous, their power and influence evident. The most eye-catching sight was the various exquisitely pasted banners and couplets hanging on the shop's exterior walls! Red backgrounds with gold-flecked paper, blue backgrounds with gold lettering—a dazzling array.

A closer look at the signatures revealed that they were none other than the county magistrate, garrison commander, county assistant, registrar, tax commissioner, commander of the garrison, and even several prominent gentry from neighboring counties! These congratulatory couplets were like an invisible net of power, firmly covering the silk shop and demonstrating the extraordinary influence of its owners.

Shop assistants bustled about, the silk shimmering in the sunlight. The shop was already set up, the brand-new counters gleaming, and the shelves stacked high with various silks and satins: soft satins from Suzhou and Hangzhou, brocade from Sichuan, Luzhou silk... Under the light streaming through the window lattices, they shimmered and shone with extraordinary splendor.

The workers, dressed in brand-new blue cloth uniforms, were carefully wiping away the last specks of dust. Their movements were swift and efficient, their faces showing the tension and excitement of opening a new store.

As soon as the shopkeeper Xu Zhi saw Ximen Qing's horse arrive, he immediately trotted down the steps to greet it, bowed deeply, and his face was full of heartfelt admiration.

"Master! You've finally arrived! Everything is ready!" He handed the reins to the servant, then stepped aside to lead Ximen Qing into the shop, lowering his voice with a hint of flattery, "Master, I've been in the silk business for over twenty years, and I've never seen such shrewd and manipulative methods from you! Look at all these congratulatory couplets covering the walls!"

He gestured with his hand, "This congratulatory couplet is clearly a golden signboard! A talisman! The cloth shop across the street was selling its silks like hot coals before, but now, seeing our success, all those customers are rooted to the spot, just waiting for our shop to open tomorrow so they can compare prices before they're willing to spend their money!"

"That Meng Yulou across the street is as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. This afternoon, he gritted his teeth and managed to lower the price of his few bolts of fast-selling ordinary silk by 10%! He's hoping to win back a few customers before we open!"

Ximen Qing paced through the shop, his gaze sharp as he swept over the mountains of silks piled high on the shelves, shimmering alluringly under the lights. Hearing Xu Zhi's words, he went behind the counter, casually picked up a piece of plain, lake-blue satin, rubbed it between his fingers, feeling its delicate and smooth texture, and then gently put it down.

He waved his hand casually: "Let him hold back! Tomorrow is the opening day. Pile all those second-rate, high-volume silks in the warehouse to the most conspicuous place! Display as many as you can! Tomorrow I'm going to get rid of all these 'fast-moving' things!"

Upon hearing this, Xu Zhi felt his heart pounding like a rabbit's. He rubbed his hands together, forcing a smile, and cautiously offered his advice:

"Master is wise! Master's methods are indeed thunderous! However... I've been in this business for a while now, and I dare to say a few words..."

He glanced at Ximen Qing's expression and, seeing no displeasure, continued, "This silk is not like coarse linen. Ordinary families can't afford more than a few feet of it throughout the year. They value a steady, long-term approach and seek a respectable and valuable appearance. If too many ordinary goods suddenly flood the market... I'm afraid that even if we lower the price, we won't sell many, and it will only damage the reputation of our newly opened shop."

Ximen Qing was fiddling with a piece of fine silk when he heard this. Without even lifting his eyelids, he merely snorted softly through his nose, put down the silk, and casually waved his hand.
"Manager Xu, just go ahead and do it. I know the ins and outs of this silk business better than I do, but I have my own way of making it fast."

Seeing that his master's mind was made up and that he had said all he needed to say, Xu Zhi dared not say anything more. He could only swallow his doubts and force a smile of utmost respect onto his face, replying repeatedly, "Yes, yes, yes! Master is so wise and far-sighted, I am so foolish! I will do it right away! I will go and count out all the fast-selling silks in the warehouse, and tomorrow they will be full to the brim!" After saying this, he bowed and withdrew, his heart feeling like it was being drawn up with fifteen buckets of water.

Leaving aside the grand scheme of the official at the silk shop, let's turn to the small courtyard behind Wu Da's pancake shop on Zishi Street in Qinghe County, where an unusual festive atmosphere was also present.

Wu Song, dressed in a neat short outfit, wearing the uniform of a servant of the Ximen family, with a snowflake-shaped iron sword at his waist, had just returned from his shift at the Ximen residence. As soon as he entered, he saw his elder brother, Wu Dalang, sitting on a small stool, happily flipping through several red paper invitations in the afterglow of the setting sun.

Wu Da's short stature suddenly seemed a bit more upright, his dark face glowing red, and his mouth stretching to his ears. "Brother, what's so interesting that you're so happy?" Wu Song put down his knife, poured himself a bowl of cold tea, and gulped it down.

"Oh my! Erlang is back!" Wu Da looked up at the sound, his face crinkling into a wide smile, and hurriedly waved the invitations in his hand, "Look! Look! They were all sent by matchmakers! Your older brother here has become a hot commodity now!"

Wu Song walked over, picked up a postcard and glanced at it. It contained the birth date and time of a certain girl and a brief description of her family background.

"Erlang, this is all thanks to you! And even more so to Master Ximen's divine favor!" Wu Da rubbed his hands together, so excited he was almost incoherent. "Now everyone in the county knows you're my own brother, the head of the guards at Master Ximen's mansion? You're so impressive!!"

As he spoke, Wu Da's eyes welled up with tears. He reached out to pat Wu Song's towering shoulder, but couldn't reach it. Wu Song quickly sat down on the long bench. Only then did Wu Da hug his brother's arm tightly, his voice choked with emotion:
"My only thought was... that you should stop wandering around and find a stable job near me, get married, have children... so that our parents could rest in peace..."

“But you…you’ve finally…finally made it through! All right! All right!” He said “all right” twice, as if trying to soothe the bitterness in his heart. Suddenly, he cautiously peeked out the door a couple more times, then turned back and half-closed the door, lowering his voice:

"Are your sworn brothers and sisters who came back with you that day still alive?"

Wu Song's expression suddenly darkened, and he forced a smile: "They left Qinghe territory long ago, and their whereabouts are unknown."

Wu Da finally let out a long sigh of relief, patting his chest: "Amitabha! Good riddance! Gone cleanly! From the moment they entered, I could tell those two were no ordinary people! Brother, listen to me, don't get entangled with these people of unknown origin! Don't bring trouble to the master! I only hope you can work peacefully in the Ximen household, save some money, and start a family... I'd rather close my eyes right now... and die."

The moment the word "death" was uttered, Wu Song's large, fan-like hand covered his mouth like an iron clamp, and he hissed, "Brother! Stop talking nonsense! We're so happy today, why say such discouraging things!"

Wu Da nodded and said, "Yes, yes, yes, our lives are getting better and better now, let's not talk about these depressing things."

"Those women who went on blind dates, I heard, even their dowries and wedding banquets were all paid for by Master Ximen! Such prestige, tsk tsk tsk!"

Wu Da clicked his tongue: "Those matchmakers are shrewd! As soon as they heard about this, and seeing how popular you are at the Ximen mansion, their eyes lit up! Now they're not introducing me to ugly girls or widows remarrying! They're all decent families! They don't mind that I'm short, and they don't mind that I sell pancakes! Look, they're all lined up, I'm spoiled for choice!"

Seeing his elder brother's heartfelt joy, Wu Song felt that the joy of family affection overshadowed the sadness he felt for Zhang Qing and Sun Erniang.

He pondered for a moment and said, "Since we have a choice, why not look for a girl from a scholarly family that, although its fortunes have declined, is literate and knows proper etiquette? When my nephew is born, he will be able to absorb some of the scholarly atmosphere and have a foundation for studying."

Upon hearing this, Wu Da shook his head vigorously, like a rattle-drum:

“After all this, I’ve thought it all through. What kind of family do we have? Our ancestral graves are just steaming buns! For eight generations, our ancestors were all peasants who toiled around millstones and dealt with flour! How could we possibly marry a girl from such a pretentious family? She can’t carry anything, she’s afraid of hurting her back if she walks a few steps, she covers her nose at the slightest bit of cooking fumes, and she’s always holding her face, either lamenting the passing of spring or the coming of autumn, looking like a mourning ghost! How can we possibly live like this?”

“Besides, even if they’re down on their luck for a while, their inherent pride is still there. Do you really think they’d look down on our pancake shop?” He paused, then said seriously, “It’s all about matching social status! The most important thing is matching social status! Find a hardworking, thrifty, honest girl from a good family, someone who’s physically strong and can help with making pancakes and managing the household.”

“When you have a nephew in the future, even if we have to tighten our belts, we brothers will still send him to school and help him get a degree! That’s the proper way for our Wu family to turn our lives around! A meteoric rise? Heh! We don’t have the good fortune of our ancestors’ graves emitting auspicious smoke, and we can’t afford to be born into such a privileged family! We’d be afraid of shortening our lifespan!”

Wu Song was slightly moved by his elder brother's simple yet worldly-wise words. Although his elder brother was short and timid, his self-awareness and planning for life were more insightful than he had imagined.

He nodded, a rare hint of gentleness appearing on his usually stern face: "Brother is right. I was overthinking it. You're right."

Wu Da was overjoyed to have his brother's approval. He picked up another invitation and began to ramble on about comparing the girls from different families. The last rays of the setting sun lazily spilled into the low courtyard, shrouding the pile of red papers and illuminating the fine beads of sweat and excitement on Wu Da's dark face.

In the courtyard, the well-worn steamed bun stand leaned quietly against the corner of the wall. The air seemed to still carry the aroma of roasted wheat flour from the daytime. As Wu Song looked at all this, he felt a sense of weighty peace amidst the scheming and chatter of the marketplace, a feeling he had never experienced before.

"Brother, I'm going out for a bit. Don't wait up for me to eat," Wu Song said in a deep voice, his tone devoid of any emotion.

Wu Dalang was still immersed in the joy of "choosing a wife" when he heard this. Without even looking up, he just nodded repeatedly: "Okay! Erlang, you go and do your work! Remember to do a good job at Master Ximen's mansion! You can't slack off at such a stable job!"

"Understood," Wu Song replied, then turned and walked out without saying anything more.

He didn't return to the Ximen residence, but went straight to the busiest market in Qinghe County. The sun was setting, but the streets were still noisy, with shouts of vendors and the sounds of bargaining filling the air.

Wu Song's tall figure stood out somewhat from the crowd. With a calm gaze, he walked straight to a familiar butcher shop, picked out a fine roast chicken, and then went to a tavern to get a pot of the strongest old wine.

Finally, he bought several exquisite pastries from a pastry shop. He carried these dishes, wrapped in oil paper, in his hands; they felt heavy.

The county government office was far more imposing than the militia headquarters. The two guards, who had been dozing against the doorframe, lazily lifted their eyes at the sound of footsteps. But when they recognized Wu Song, especially his sharp attire—the signature look of the head of the Ximen household's guards—and the knife at his waist, they instantly sprang to their feet, their arrogance and impatience replaced by politeness, even a hint of obsequiousness.

"Hey! Isn't this the head constable of the Ximen household? What brings you here?" One of the older constables greeted him with a smile. They naturally recognized this former tiger-slaying hero, and knew even better that he was now a favorite of the powerful Ximen family.

Wu Song was still a little unaccustomed to the yamen runner who used to be so arrogant towards him but was now bowing and scraping. He smiled and took out a few pieces of silver from his pocket, without even looking at them, and casually stuffed them into the runner's hand: "Thank you for your hard work, you two. I've come to see Sun Erniang."

The constable weighed the loose silver in his hand, his smile widening as he hurriedly said, "No problem, no problem! Chief Wu Ding, you're too kind!" He turned and winked at another constable, "What are you standing there for? Quick! Lead Chief Wu Ding to the death row cell at the back!"

Another constable hurriedly bowed and led the way: "Chief Wu Ding, this way please! This way please! That Sun Erniang... sigh, she's locked up in the innermost cell." He lowered his voice as he walked, with a hint of mystery and sigh, "The imperial edict... just came down yesterday, she only has three to five days left to live. Are you... here to send her off on her final journey?"

Wu Song paused for a moment, then gave a deep "hmm" in response.

Deep within the prison cell, dark and damp, filled with the smell of mildew and despair, the yamen runner leading the way stopped before a black wooden gate secured with heavy iron bars and a large padlock. He pulled out a greasy bunch of keys, laboriously unlocked the chain, and shouted gruffly inside, "Sun Erniang! Wake up! A distinguished guest has come to see you!" He then turned to Wu Song, his face plastered with deliberate obsequiousness, bowing even lower, "Chief Wu, please speak slowly. I'll wait outside; just give the order if you need anything. This… according to the rules, one cannot be alone, but since you are a servant of Master Ximen's household, it's an exception! Please, please!" Having said this, he actually stepped back a few paces, turning his back to the prison gate and standing at the entrance of the passageway for exercise.

Wu Song smiled and said thank you, then pushed open the heavy, creaking prison door and went inside.

The prison door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the dim light in the corridor and the blurry figures of the guards. Inside the cell, only the dim, yellowish glow of the oil lamp could barely outline the silhouette of Sun Erniang curled up on the moldy straw.

Wu Song's gaze was sharp as an eagle's; with just one sweep, his heart sank to the bottom. Sun Erniang's body was covered with crisscrossing bruises and festering whip marks, some so deep that bone was visible, with pus and blood mixed with filth sticking to her clothes.

Her cheeks were sunken, her lips were cracked and chapped, and her breathing was weak and rapid, each inhale pulling at her wounds and producing a suppressed, painful hiss. Her once sharp and cunning eyes were now cloudy and lifeless, half-open and half-closed, her lips moving as she repeatedly and indistinctly murmured, "The head of the household is here..."

The voice was faint and intermittent, yet it cut into Wu Song's heart like a dull knife. Wu Song's throat bobbed, and his hand, holding the wine and dishes, clenched unconsciously.

"Second Sister..." Wu Song's voice was low and hoarse, carrying a difficulty he himself was unaware of.

Sun Erniang seemed to be awakened by the sound. She turned her neck with difficulty and very slowly, and her cloudy eyes finally focused on Wu Song's tall figure.

She grimaced, as if trying to laugh, but the smile twisted around the wounds on her face, creating an expression more unsightly than crying, and her voice became as hoarse as a broken gong.
"Ah... Brother Wu... Brother Wu... You've come..."

Wu Song squatted down, placed the wine and food on the relatively clean ground, opened the oil paper package, and the aroma of roast chicken and strong wine instantly filled the air. He looked into Sun Erniang's eyes and said in a deep voice, "Erniang, my master was present in that situation, and even if I intervened... it would have been useless."

“No need… to explain…” Sun Erniang shook her head laboriously, her dry hair sticking to her sweat-dampened forehead. “Brother Wu, I understand. This is our… fate as wanderers of the martial world…”

Her gaze passed over Wu Song, staring blankly at the moldy patches seeping through the cell ceiling, a numb clarity in her eyes. "Living on the edge of a knife! Heads hanging by a thread! Who knows what tomorrow will bring? If we really fall... we can't blame heaven, we can't blame anyone! If... if we switched places... I... hehe... I'd probably be the first to tie you up like a dumpling... and send you to the yamen to exchange for a few taels of silver... Heh... hehe..."

She laughed hoarsely, her laughter filled with self-mockery and sorrow, "This is fate! Our fate... is cheap! Worse than yours..."

She coughed violently, her entire hunched body trembling as if she were coughing up her lungs. After a long while, she finally caught her breath, her cloudy gaze refocusing on Wu Song's face, a look of almost pleading light in her eyes: "Brother Wu... I... I need to ask you for two things..."

"Speak," Wu Song said, his voice low and firm.

Sun Erniang stared intently at him, speaking slowly and deliberately, as if using her last strength: "First thing... after I breathe my last... please bury me and my husband... together... he... he's all alone... in that desolate place."

"Alright!" Wu Song nodded without hesitation, his voice firm and resolute. "I promise you! I will definitely reunite you and your husband!"

A faint sense of relief flashed in Sun Erniang's eyes, and she managed to utter two words: "...Thank you..."

She paused to catch her breath: "The second thing...to send a message to Erlong Mountain for my mother...say that...Sun Erniang and her husband...have perished...and can't wait for their brothers..."

A deathly silence fell over the cell. The flame of the oil lamp flickered uneasily, casting huge, distorted shadows on the walls.

Wu Song remained silent.

shook his head.

“Second Aunt…I…I’m not lying to you.” He looked at Sun Erniang’s expression, which froze instantly, and continued, “I understand your thoughts. You want the brothers of Erlong Mountain to come down the mountain…to avenge you and Brother Zhang Qing.”

The light in Sun Erniang's eyes suddenly flickered.

Wu Song's voice carried a heavy sense of helplessness, yet it was also exceptionally clear: "I am now the head of the guards in the Ximen household. I eat the Ximen family's food and receive the Ximen family's salary. This news... I cannot spread."

"You—!" Sun Erniang let out a low, beast-like growl, a voice that was not human, filled with extreme shock, anger, and despair that was about to collapse! Her cloudy eyes instantly became bloodshot, like two red-hot charcoal balls! Her eyeballs bulged out horribly, staring at Wu Song with a deadly, venomous gaze, as if she wanted to devour him alive!

"Wu Song! You...you...you've forgotten the wine at Shizipo?! You've forgotten how your master treated you?! You ungrateful wretch! Ximen Qing's lackey!" She roared with all her might, her voice sharp and piercing, making the prison cell buzz.

She struggled violently, trying to lunge forward. The heavy shackles rattled and scraped against her already festering flesh, drawing fresh blood. "Get out! Get out of here! I was blind! I thought you were a hero! Get out! Don't defile my place! Get out—!!!"

She writhed wildly, banging her head against the wall behind her. The shackles scraped against the stone wall with a piercing noise, and blood streamed down her forehead, mingling with her tears, making her appear like a madwoman.

Wu Song's cheek muscles twitched violently a few times. He suddenly lifted the hem of his robe and, facing Sun Erniang, slammed his knees heavily onto the dirty, cold ground, kowtowing loudly.

Immediately, he stood up abruptly without the slightest hesitation, pulled open the heavy prison door, and his tall figure resolutely disappeared into the light of the passageway, without looking back once more.

Just as Wu Song's imposing figure disappeared at the end of the passageway, before the prison door had even slammed shut, the young constable who had led the way rushed in like a hyena drawn by the scent of blood.

He closed the door behind him, his thieving eyes scanning the spread-out oil paper package—the plump, juicy roast chicken, the fragrant pastries, and the jug of old wine made his Adam's apple bob. He rubbed his hands together and called out to Sun Erniang, who was huddled in the filthy hay:

"Hey! Sun Erniang! Wake up! Wu Ding is giving you your 'last meal,' it smells delicious! Are you going to eat it or not? If you're not, just say so! I'll 'enjoy' it for you, so as not to waste such good food! These days, food and silver are precious!"

In the deathly silent cell, only the occasional crackle of a spark from the oil lamp wick broke the silence. After a long while, Sun Erniang let out a few strange "hoarse...hoarse..." sounds, like a leaking bellows. With extreme difficulty, she slowly raised her head. On her face, ravaged by torture and despair, a smile slowly and grotesquely squeezed out.

"Heh...heh..." She chuckled twice more, her voice hoarse like sandpaper grinding iron. "This...this is only worth a few coins? Is it worth...you two gentlemen...staring at it so eagerly?" Her cloudy, bloodshot eyes were fixed on the yamen runner's greedy face, a mad and eerie light burning within them. "Want...want...real gold and silver?"

Upon hearing the words "real gold and silver," the constable's eyes lit up with an alarming gleam, like two hungry, green lanterns! He lunged forward two steps, almost pressing himself against the fence, his breathing becoming heavy and rapid: "You... what did you say?!"

Sun Erniang gasped for breath, each word seemingly forced out from her very core, laced with blood and spittle: "Promise me... I'll tell you... where my husband and I are hiding... which rat hole that bag of silver is buried in..."

"Really?!" The constable's voice instantly rose eight octaves, his entire body trembling with excitement. He swore an oath, shouting, "My dear mother and great-grandmother! Second Sister Sun! No! Grandmother Sun! Tell me quickly! Don't just say one thing, even ten or a hundred! As long as I can do it, I'll brave mountains of knives and seas of fire for you! Tell me quickly! Where is the silver buried?!"

This world!
The fairest statement is: another day has passed.

Whether you are a dragon or a worm, rich or poor, everyone occupies the same number of squares in the King of Hell's Book of Fates, waiting for their time to be called.

On this day, the mountains had their highs and lows, and people had their joys and sorrows.

The sun had set, but Wu Dalang was still happily choosing a wife.

Lin Ruhai had already entered the capital and was meeting with Grandmother Jia while awaiting an audience with the Emperor.

Xue Baochai sat on the windowsill, resting her chin on her hand, thinking sadly about the man in Qinghe County.

Two ghostly black figures were hurrying along the desolate path, stumbling and struggling towards Shizipo.

A short, stocky, dark-skinned figure lagging behind caught up, panting heavily, his voice filled with hesitation: "B-Brother, that woman in jail was beaten so badly she was out of her mind, and the 'hidden treasure' she vomited up... can we trust it? Are you kidding us, making us come all this way for nothing and starve?"

The leading figure in black didn't stop walking. Hearing this, he let out a short, mocking laugh through his nose: "Idiot! So what if she tricked me? It's just a little effort! She's a deadbeat anyway, and she's just farting before she dies. Do you think I'm going to go to jail and strangle her?" He paused, "If it's true... hehe, that would be a windfall! Enough for us brothers to buy some nice things for our homes!"

"Brother is wise! So... if we really find some silver later, who... will go and report to Erlong Mountain for that woman?"

"Go to hell! You blockhead! What kind of news would she send to a condemned prisoner waiting to be executed? A letter to the King of Hell? That silver of hers was undoubtedly 'sex money' she amassed by murder and robbery at the Shizipo black market! It's stained with human blood and carries the stench of wronged souls! We brothers are 'dealing' with it for her; that's doing justice! Accumulating good karma! Don't you understand? It'll save her from having to suffer this blood debt in the underworld!"

Two dark figures let out a knowing chuckle, quickened their pace, and disappeared into the inky night, heading straight for the cross slope.

Inside the Ximen Mansion.

On the large rosewood desk, fresh seasonal fruits and melons, just taken from the ice cellar, were laid out, and in a celadon-colored official kiln teacup, brewed Wuyi Mountain "Da Hong Pao" tea, which was more valuable than gold.

But Master Ximen was pacing back and forth in front of the rosewood armchair covered with brocade cushions.

Two things stood in his way that were difficult to deal with.

The first thing to consider was who had robbed him of his silver. Although Wu Song's analysis made sense, it was certainly not something the Qinghe militia would do.

The second thing is this approval document Lin Ruhai gave me, which is difficult to handle! It's clearly a mountain of gold and silver, but I'm having trouble getting it out!
(End of this chapter)