Chapter 88: The Magistrate of Minsheng County

Di Ying shook his head gently.

He denied, “You’re not the one in charge of this investigation. If an official of your high rank suddenly goes to see the county magistrate, you’ll likely frighten him. That may cause people to exaggerate the case, making it seem more serious than it is, leading to misunderstandings. Besides, I don’t want everyone to know that you’re involved with me in this matter, so as far as official business goes, it’s best if you stay out of the spotlight. Tomorrow, just take Xu Si and Sun Qi with you, and wander around the county. Find out how many wealthy families there are, and learn about the character and conduct of the local officials.”

“You think it’s related to those people? Or do you suspect they failed to extort sheep and turned murderous? But if that’s the case, the method of killing doesn’t seem like something they’d be capable of,” Song Wen said, a sudden flash of insight striking him as he spoke. He felt he’d touched the heart of the matter.

Di Ying nodded slightly.

He paced slowly as he spoke, “To solve a case thoroughly, besides uncovering the motive for the crime, the second thing is the means and opportunity. How did the culprit manage to kill in such a way? So far, we only know what’s recorded in the case file: no suspicious traces were found at the scene where Han Lixing was murdered. But is that really so? Is someone lying? Was there negligence? Did someone notice something but dismiss it? Or was Magistrate Zhang’s investigation simply careless? One way or another, there must be some oversight. That’s why, at present, we neither know the motive, nor how the murderer managed to kill without leaving a trace.

What we’ve heard from the villagers of Han Family Village, and along our way, is all about how Zhang Jian is devoted to the county’s welfare, how honest and upright he is. Not a word about his skill or fairness in handling cases. So, this oversight must be connected to him. We need to see whether this magistrate is incapable of investigating, ignorant of proper procedure, or simply muddled when dealing with criminal matters.”

Song Wen understood.

He sighed, “Some officials at court are indeed gifted in both civil and military affairs, but when it comes to solving cases, they fall short. That’s why I say, not every official is called Di Ying. Your rigor, breadth of thought, and logical acuity are truly unmatched.”

Di Ying replied, “…Now I finally understand why you can get along with everyone.”

Song Wen protested, “…How can you be like this? I’m sincerely praising you, yet you never accept it and always put me down.”

Di Ying smiled, his voice soft and amused, “I’m only doing my duty. Even if I think a bit more than others, it’s only to avoid making mistakes.”

With that, he turned, stretched lazily, yawned, and walked into the house, saying, “Now that we’ve digested our meal, let’s go to bed.”

Song Wen watched Di Ying go inside, watching his silhouette cast by the candlelight onto the window. Only three words echoed in his mind: Just doing his duty.

That night, even in his dreams, Song Wen wondered: Would he, if he spent his whole life, ever become a man like Di Ying?

At dawn, as everyone was washing up in the courtyard, Di Ying noticed the dark circles under Song Wen’s eyes and teased, “Brother Song, were you kept awake all night by homesickness?”

Song Wen was silent for a long moment before finally managing to say, “At last, you’re showing a hint of youthful spirit.”

Di Ying said nothing in response and went inside to eat his buns.

For once, the usually beleaguered Song Wen felt his spirits soaring. During breakfast, he even vied with Di Ying for the buns.

…

On the morning of May 28th, at half past the hour of the Dragon (8:00 a.m.), Zhang Jian, now well into middle age, was handling official business in his study.

“The rain on the night of the twenty-fifth ruined the crops of many villagers who hadn’t yet harvested their wheat. Early this morning, I went to those areas to check on their efforts to salvage what they could. Some wheat had already sprouted or molded in the fields before it could be brought in; others, though harvested, weren’t dried or stored in time and developed the same issues. Magistrate Zhang, should we deal with the unusable grain as we have in past years?” the assistant magistrate asked.

At this report, Zhang Jian’s dark, thin face tightened, his graying eyebrows furrowing deeply together, etching the vertical lines between his brows even deeper and longer. After a few moments, he relaxed.

“If there’s any chance to salvage the grain, do so with all effort. If it’s truly unsalvageable, collect it all at three copper coins per jin and send it to the workshops. Have the workshops boil it, dry it thoroughly, grind it into powder, and mix it with bran and husks. Then sell the mixture at one copper coin per jin throughout the county.”

This was a departure from the usual way of handling things.

The assistant magistrate, concerned, asked, “Magistrate Zhang, if we do this, the county treasury won’t be able to cover the expenditure.”

“Don’t worry,” Zhang Jian’s smile deepened the creases at the corners of his mouth like ripples upon water. “The meat prohibition won’t last much longer. Once His Majesty lifts it, the people, starved for meat, will raise poultry and livestock in great numbers. Three coins to buy and one coin to sell looks like a loss, but the cost of bran and husks is extremely low. As long as all the product sells, we won’t lose money in the end. We just need the county treasury to hold out during this period.”

The assistant magistrate nodded vigorously. Afterward, he suggested, “Magistrate Zhang, old Master Tao Changling, who retired to his estate, lives lavishly. Yesterday afternoon, the Tao family sent an invitation, hoping you’d attend his birthday banquet. I suggest you go, and perhaps secure some donations for the county treasury.”

“I won’t go!” Zhang Jian refused at once. His short, graying beard trembled as he spoke further, “Tao’s eldest daughter is married to… Well, I want no entanglements with their family. Also, keep a close eye on the Tao estate. Their fourteen-year-old fifth grandson is a bit too clever for his own good. Make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble.”

“You mean Tao Qing? That child is only obsessed with studying objects and phenomena. What trouble could he cause?” the assistant magistrate asked in surprise.

Zhang Jian hesitated, stroking his beard with a conflicted expression.

“It’s hard to say. My wife once heard one of the Tao family’s maids saying on the street that their fifth young master likes to use live birds and animals for his experiments. I’m worried—today it’s small animals, but what about in the future? Would he turn to humans? In any case, keep a close watch. If there’s any notable increase or decrease in their purchase of live animals, report to me immediately. Best if you can find someone of good character who’s close to the boy and have them advise him to abandon the habit of experimenting on living creatures.”