Chapter Fifty-Two: Lord Di, the Monstrous One

In the end, Yao Cong decided to dig up the hollow. In his own words, “Don’t be fooled by how small the pit is—what if the body was buried standing up? Plenty of villains are fond of such twisted things.”

Di Ying let him have his way.

He had Peng Liang fetch the shovel they’d brought from the horse, and the three of them set to work.

It was the twelfth lunar month; the snow had sealed the ground, and everything was frozen solid. Even though the soil in this hollow was relatively loose, it wasn’t long before all three were sweating from the effort.

The first time Yao Cong drove the shovel down and felt it wasn’t as hard as expected, he grew excited. Once they’d broken through the toughest top layer, he dug with increasing vigor, convinced they would find something beneath.

Di Ying, meanwhile, kept at it steadily, shoveling bit by bit, all the while scanning the surroundings, observing everything within sight.

Peng Liang, for his part, had a look of resignation in his star-bright eyes. He wasn’t enthusiastic, nor was he slacking—just treating it as a bit of physical exercise.

By the time none of them could manage another spadeful—even the excited Yao Cong couldn’t lift his arms anymore—the pit was over a meter deep and nearly two meters wide.

They found nothing.

Unwilling to give up, Yao Cong wanted to dig further, but beneath the loose soil was now nothing but hard mountain stone, impenetrable to the shovel, the only sound a dull clanging.

Deflated, Yao Cong threw down his shovel, plopped himself at the bottom of the pit, and looked at the ever-smiling Fatty Di.

With a pout, he blurted out, “You’re fat because you don’t do enough manual labor.”

Di Ying replied, “I’ve been fat since I was a child—even eating wild greens puts meat on me.”

Yao Cong rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you slacking off. When we get to the pit by the hills, you’re digging it yourself.”

Di Ying grinned. “So, you admit defeat?”

“What else can I do?” Yao Cong climbed out, brushing dirt from his trousers, and said gloomily, “We’ve hit bedrock and still found nothing. If I didn’t concede now, I’d be unreasonable. My reputation isn’t that bad.”

Di Ying raised a brow, thinking to himself, If it weren’t for your good character and quick mind, I wouldn’t have chosen you.

He kept his face impassive, though, and set off toward the hills.

Yao Cong called after him, “Besides the direction the pit faced, there must have been something else that convinced you it was wrong. Tell me, so I can learn.”

Di Ying smiled as he answered, “The weeds around the hollow were tall, and the trees were thick and sturdy—actually, a perfect place to set a trap. I noticed some bark peeled off near the base of the trees, and the grass near the roots was trampled. Further out, some branches were bent in unnatural arcs. Who peels bark for no reason? Who bends branches on purpose? Who walks right up against tree roots? Hunters.

“This is a low hill, not very large, so the animals living here are small—rabbits, pheasants, maybe foxes or badgers. Hunters never set just one trap; near a main pit, you’ll always find spring poles, hanging nets, snares, and the like, just in case prey escapes one trap, so they’ll fall into another.”

“I get it!” Yao Cong smacked his forehead, chagrined. “I was thinking too narrowly—only focused on finding a place to bury a body, without considering the bigger picture.” He couldn’t help but give Di Ying a thumbs up.

After a pause, though, he pressed, “But how did you guess it would be over by the hills?”

Di Ying explained, “You’ve probably figured out Wu Xiangjin’s mindset. He likely really did forget about Chen Hehua. For a spoiled young master like him, killing someone is nothing. He probably thinks: You can investigate all you like—so what if you find out? He’s Wu Qiongsi’s son—who’d dare touch him? Who could?

“Killing Wu Minzhe was probably not his first crime, and he’s always come out unscathed. He wouldn’t pay any mind to a mere fifth-rank official like you. So I guessed: he wouldn’t bother provoking you deliberately. Provocation is what those of lower rank do to higher-ups; from above to below, it’s just contempt. If he killed Chen Hehua, he’d just toss her corpse at your feet—or kill her right in front of you.

“Would it be so hard to drag you along to witness it? It would satisfy his twisted nature, and make a better show of defiance. The fact that he didn’t do this shows he simply forgot about Chen Hehua. If he suddenly came back to deal with her, it must have been under the guidance of someone smarter.

“Or, to be bold, perhaps it was Wu Qiongsi himself who gave the order. The moment you reported the murder, Wu Qiongsi would have heard—don’t forget, Wu Desen is the Prefect of Jingzhao. No one knows how many in the capital yamen are on the Wu family’s side.”

As they walked, Di Ying stopped at a certain spot and went on, “Wu Qiongsi excels at currying favor with His Majesty. He’s useless at actual work, but his scheming is second to none. Why did Wu Jianhui fall from grace? Because he was too arrogant and conspicuous, and offended the emperor’s taboos.

“But Wu Qiongsi? He’s clever and cautious. He’d cover up for Wu Xiangjin, and of course wouldn’t bury Chen Hehua at the scene of the crime. But he wouldn’t take her far, either—this is his own kind of contempt, even more so than his son’s. He’s just cleaning up after his son, so any old place a little further away would do, and no one would ever find it. Naturally, he wouldn’t dig where there’s hard rock.

“So where else could it be?” With that, Di Ying stomped the ground beneath his feet, took the shovel from Peng Liang, and began to dig.

Yao Cong stared at him, dumbfounded, as though looking at a strange creature.

Di Ying glanced over and urged, “Your eyes aren’t big to begin with—no matter how wide you open them, they won’t get any bigger. Hurry up and help dig, it’ll be dark soon.”

Yao Cong accepted the shovel Peng Liang handed him, and began digging with renewed vigor, as if venting his frustration at being insulted for his looks.

After only a few spadefuls, he asked quietly, “Where do you want me to go?”

“No rush,” Di Ying replied, still digging. “His Majesty is vigorously appointing talented officials—let me solve a few more cases and build up my standing, then I’ll recommend you.”

Yao Cong shook his head at that, seeing right through him. “You think I’m not skilled enough yet, and want me to learn more. Are you planning to kick me into the army?”