In the dimly lit room of the inn, four corpses lay on the bed, their deaths gruesome and horrifying.
Chen Ji found it hard to connect this scene with the carefree, almost foolish young nobleman he had known.
If someone could disguise themselves so thoroughly, how terrifying must the face beneath that disguise be?
Chen Ji whispered to Xifeng, "Go ask the guests on the second floor if anyone heard any sounds of fighting or screams."
"Yes," Xifeng replied, clasping his fists before leaving with a few spies to knock on doors.
A short while later, Xifeng returned and reported in a low voice, "Sir, it's strange. No one heard any screams. It seems they were killed instantly and had their faces peeled off, so they didn't have time to scream."
Chen Ji didn't respond but bent down to carefully examine the bodies.
He opened the eyelids of the deceased and was surprised to find two copper nails driven into their pupils, the surrounding eyeballs stained red.
After a moment, he stood up and said, "These four had their faces peeled off and copper nails driven into their eyes while they were still alive. They were tortured for quite some time before they died."
Xifeng was stunned.
"Their faces were peeled off while they were alive?"
As he spoke, he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Chen Ji.
"Sir, wipe the blood off your hands."
Chen Ji wiped his hands while calmly analyzing, "If their faces were peeled off after death, there wouldn't be so much blood on their faces, and their eyeballs wouldn't be so congested... It's strange. If they were tortured while alive, why didn't they make any noise?"
In the eerie silence, the spies tightly gripped the hilts of their swords.
Even these seasoned spies, accustomed to scenes of death, couldn't help but feel tense and grave.
These four didn't seem to have been killed by a person but rather as if their souls had been snatched by a ghost.
Someone whispered, "In my hometown, there's a legend about face-eating demons in the mountains. They like to eat the faces of the dead and then impersonate them to continue living."
Xifeng sneered, his expression stern.
"As a spy, how can you talk nonsense about ghosts? How could we, officials of the Ning Dynasty, fear such filthy things?"
Another person muttered softly, "Could it be that some official used ghosts to do this?"
Xifeng kicked him.
"It must have been assassins trying to silence them!"
In this era, most people were superstitious.
Anything that couldn't be explained was attributed to ghosts and spirits.
Even the most ruthless spies believed in such things.
Chen Ji said calmly, "It wasn't ghosts. It was a person. I suspect the assassin's methods are very strange, capable of controlling these people and making them suffer torture without being able to resist."
What he didn't say was that, based on criminal profiling, the assassin must have suffered similar physical and psychological trauma, which twisted their desire to inflict pain.
Chen Ji looked at Xifeng.
"In the records of the spy bureau, which officials could do something like this?"
"Some rogue sorcerers might be able to," Xifeng said, frowning.
"Sir, we'd need to check the archives in the capital, and only those with the rank of 'Sea Eagle' or higher can access that section. These kinds of officials are usually more hidden and rarely oppose the government. Having an official position weakens their 'arts.'"
"Oh?" Chen Ji was surprised.
This was the second time he had heard this.
The first time was when Lin Zhaoqing said to Jiaotu in Liu Shiyu's mansion, "I hold a fourth-rank official position in the Great Ning Dynasty. Don't embarrass yourself with petty tricks."
At that time, Chen Ji didn't understand officials and didn't pay much attention to the statement.
But now, combining it with Xifeng's words, he suddenly realized something: the official positions of the Ning Dynasty were like a kind of official method.
The higher the rank, the less one had to fear sorcery.
Xifeng looked at Chen Ji.
"Sir, what do we do now? The trail has gone cold."
Chen Ji remained silent.
Before coming here, he had hoped the trail would go cold.
But now that it had, he didn't know whether to be happy or worried.
Should he continue the investigation or give up?
Seeing that he didn't answer, Xifeng grew puzzled and asked again, "Sir?"
Chen Ji turned and walked out of the room.
"Take me to the inner prison archives. I need to check a file."
He vaguely remembered that when he helped Jiaotu and Yunyang investigate the Liu family case, he had glanced at a similar method of torture in the files, but he couldn't recall the details.
He needed to take another look.
Additionally, he could take some more ice flow.
As they were about to leave, Chen Ji suddenly added, "Bury these four bodies. Make sure it's done secretly. Don't let any news leak."
...
...
Under the cover of night, a carriage stood quietly by the side of Luoyi Street in the eastern market.
The tall, sturdy horses snorted in the cold wind, exhaling white mist like tides.
Xifeng stood behind Chen Ji, covering his eyes with a black cloth.
As he tied the cloth, he explained, "Sir, please forgive me. Since the inner prison was infiltrated before, only those with special permission from Lord Golden Pig can enter or leave. Everyone else must have their eyes covered."
"I understand," Chen Ji said, sitting in the carriage with assistance.
As the wheels began to roll, he closed his eyes and asked, "How long have you been following Lord Golden Pig?"
Xifeng thought for a moment.
"Seven years."
Chen Ji nodded.
"That's quite a long time. Do you often see Lord Heavenly Horse?"
Xifeng smiled.
"Lord Heavenly Horse is elusive. We rarely see him. But during the Lantern Festival every year, when Lord Golden Pig holds a banquet to reward his subordinates, he attends if he's in the capital."
The spacious carriage rocked gently, and cold wind occasionally blew through the gaps in the cotton curtains.
Xifeng took out a fire stick from inside the carriage, carefully lit a copper hand warmer, and placed it in Chen Ji's hands.
"Sir, warm your hands."
"Thank you," Chen Ji said, feeling for the hand warmer.
He then asked, "Have you seen Lord White Dragon?"
Xifeng closed the fire stick and said, "Lord White Dragon is even more elusive. He only appears at very important occasions. When he does, he wears a mask. Probably only the Grand Chancellor knows what he looks like."
Chen Ji was silent for a moment.
"What about Lord Sick Tiger?"
Xifeng was taken aback.
"No one has ever seen Lord Sick Tiger. He's like a ghost, with no presence. Only when the Grand Chancellor occasionally says, 'Leave this to Sick Tiger,' do we remember that there's such a person in the spy bureau."
"Never appeared?!"
"Never appeared," Xifeng said, recalling carefully.
"At least not since I joined the spy bureau. Six years ago, when His Majesty went on a southern tour, all the zodiac officials were present, but Lord Sick Tiger was still nowhere to be seen... Maybe he was hidden in the crowd, but we didn't know."
Chen Ji pressed further.
"What kind of tasks does the Grand Chancellor usually assign to Lord Sick Tiger? Assassinations or intelligence gathering?"
Xifeng gave Chen Ji a strange look.
He felt that Chen Ji seemed particularly interested in Lord Sick Tiger.
"Sir, have you also heard that Lord Sick Tiger is about to retire? But that position is too far above us, and too many people are vying for it. Even with Lord Golden Pig's help, it's impossible."
When the carriage arrived at the inner prison gate, Xifeng jumped down first and helped Chen Ji walk down the narrow, descending stairs.
After removing the black cloth, the flames of the Eight Trigrams lamps on the stone walls flickered.
The inner prison at night was even more sinister, as if they were walking into hell.
"Sir, which files do you want to see?" Xifeng asked.
Chen Ji tried to recall the files he had seen before.
"The Jia Ning seventh year, case number A."
When the prison guards brought over a large box, he quickly flipped through each page, scanning them rapidly.
Time passed, but he couldn't find what he was looking for.
Chen Ji looked up.
"No, bring me the Jia Ning eighth and ninth year case A files. You help me look too. Any case where the victim had something nailed into them, bring it to me."
He had read too many files before and only vaguely remembered a similar case, but he couldn't recall which file it was in.
However, a prison guard hesitated.
"Sir, we can't read..."
"You can't read?" Chen Ji was surprised.
He knew literacy was low in this era, but he didn't expect the prison guards of the spy bureau to be illiterate.
The literati monopolized the paper and book industries, as well as knowledge.
Ordinary people couldn't even dream of taking the imperial exams, let alone finding a way to learn to read.
Xifeng said, "Sir, I'll help you look."
"Alright."
The two sat together in front of an oil lamp, flipping through the files.
The prison guards boiled water and made strong tea for them.
When their eyes grew tired, Xifeng suddenly said, "Sir, is this what you're looking for? The Jia Ning ninth year, Kaifeng Prefecture Wu family massacre case!"
Chen Ji took the file and saw that it recorded a case from twenty-two years ago, where the Wu family, overseers of the silver mine in Kaifeng Prefecture, were wiped out overnight.
In the case, after the matriarch of the Wu family died, wooden nails were driven into her mouth, nose, eyes, and ears—the kind used in coffin shops to seal coffins.
Not only that, but the matriarch's lower body had also been cruelly mutilated.
He looked closely but suddenly felt something was off.
"The file records that the Wu family should have eighteen members. One survived."
Xifeng leaned over to look.
"The silver mine... This is someone from our Twenty-Four Offices of the Directorate of Ceremonial. Officials who oversee silver mines have powerful connections. They must have someone high up backing them. It's a lucrative position. But it's strange. Our Directorate of Ceremonial always protects its own. If one of our own was killed, why wasn't the murderer caught?"
Chen Ji pondered.
"Maybe the murderer didn't leave any clues?"
"Even so, the file wouldn't be left untouched," Xifeng explained.
"Our Directorate of Ceremonial's rule is that even if the murderer wasn't caught that year, we revisit the file every year to see if it can be linked to other cases. We never stop until the murderer is caught. But look, sir, this file has been buried at the bottom..."
Chen Ji said softly, "Unless the murderer is a high-ranking official in the Directorate of Ceremonial."
Xifeng was stunned and instinctively took a step back, distancing himself from the file.
Chen Ji was confused.
The murderer's methods in this case were extremely similar to those of tonight's killer.
But if the murderer was indeed a high-ranking official in the Directorate of Ceremonial, why would they help the young nobleman silence these people?
...
There will be another chapter later.
(End of Chapter)