Цзянху место, где не причинят вреда

Глава 28

"I...I did whip him, but...but that was because he suddenly grabbed me, and I flung my hand away...I...I really didn't mean it! Grandpa, you have to believe me!" Pan Nanshuang had never seen Pan Zhongxun so angry, and she was a little scared, on the verge of tears.

"Get out of here..." Pan Zhongxun took a deep breath, closed his eyes tightly, and muttered to himself, "Why...don't you all know the value of home? Why do you always have to cause trouble? Yue Rong is like this...and you are too...Ren Zhong may not be close to you, but he is your second brother..."

Pan Zhongxun looked tired. He leaned on a chair, turned his back to the crowd, and slowly sat down. After a while, he waved his hand and said, "Get down..."

“Father!” Pan Weiqing stepped forward, about to speak again— “Get down!” Pan Zhongxun said sternly, his tone becoming more forceful.

"Yes—" Pan Weiqing had no choice but to hold back and pulled Pan Nanshuang out the door.

Pan Zhongxun stared blankly at an inconspicuous painting on the wall, two lines of tears sliding down his face. He murmured softly, "Yuerong... how are you doing? Twenty-six years have passed, why won't you come home..."

The past is nowhere to be found

Pan Nanshuang was dragged along the corridor. She had never suffered such resentment before, and she was naturally very unwilling. Moreover, Pan Zhongxun had just said that she was as if she was good for nothing except being ruthless, arrogant and domineering. Feeling wronged, she wished she could bring Pan Renzhong back to life and make him repeat the words that insulted her that day, so that the world could judge.

"Father……"

"Shut up!" Pan Weiqing ignored his daughter's struggles and walked away quickly, his face grim. Although he usually doted on the child, he was now extremely angry. Thinking of the usually well-behaved Renzhong, he suddenly felt terribly sorry for the Su mother and son—Renzhong and Nanshuang were both his own flesh and blood, and he shouldn't have favored one over the other. But one was already gone, and the remaining one—he had to protect her no matter what. Fratricide? How could he have imagined such an absurd thing happening to him, Pan Weiqing? In his view, if his father was determined to send Nanshuang to Yingtian Prefecture, as her son, he had no choice but to comply. But what kind of place was the yamen? Pan Nanshuang had been pampered since childhood and had never even been punished with a beating. The yamen officials would certainly not dare to use torture, but he knew his daughter's temperament best. Even spending a short time in prison would be unbearable for Nanshuang.

Pan Nanshuang was unaware of Pan Weiqing's thoughts. She only knew that her father, who usually doted on her, wanted to push her out of the house, just like her grandfather. In her panic, she cried and screamed all the way. Helpless, Pan Weiqing had no choice but to have someone lock her in the bedroom and lock the door, forbidding her from leaving without permission or allowing anyone to enter.

Pan Weiqing looked at Pan Nanshuang, who was crying and pounding on the door and walls in the room, and suddenly felt a surge of irritation. He flicked his sleeves, gave a few instructions to the servants beside him, and then turned and left without looking back.

A cool west wind blew across his face. Pan Weiqing looked at the desolate courtyard and after a long while, he sighed deeply. It was time to go and take a look at the side courtyard.

Pan Weiqing followed the path towards the side courtyard, only to find it deserted and quiet, without a single servant in sight. As he stepped through the old door of Madam Su's bedroom, a stench of decay hit him. Ahead of him sat a woman with disheveled hair, her back to the door, motionless on the bed, as if petrified. This sight stirred a pang of pity in his heart, and thinking of the mistreatment he had inflicted on Madam Su and her son, he felt a pang of guilt.

“Yingyu…” He slowly walked up to her, put his hand on Su Yingyu’s shoulder, and said in a low voice, “Don’t be too sad about Renzhong’s death.”

The person in front remained silent for a long time. Just as he assumed Su Yingyu was too grief-stricken to speak coherently and was about to turn away, a hoarse, broken voice came softly: "Master, Zhong'er and I have never fought for anything. We have always been dutiful and stayed in this quiet, desolate courtyard... Zhong'er is a good child, filial to his mother and respectful to his father... He, he really is a good child... This time, if it weren't for me... he would never have gone to find Nan Shuang... he would never have..." Su Yingyu continued to murmur to herself, as if she had fallen into memories.

Pan Weiqing paused for a moment, then suddenly felt a desire to pull her into his arms. He slowly reached out his hand, but then suddenly remembered Nan Shuang crying. He hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room.

It wasn't too late. As they passed the villa, a man stepped across the threshold of the second house outside the main entrance of the first general store. This man, dressed in thick robes and carrying a fan, was handsome and dashing—none other than Pan Weiqing's third son, Pan Renman, who was also Pan Nanshuang's third brother. He was known for his love of gathering with friends and indulging in wine at Fanlou—a charming and charismatic figure sought after by all the noble young men and women of Bianliang.

At this moment, the young master of Wuling seemed somewhat anxious. Upon seeing Pan Weiqing, a hint of joy flashed across his eyes, and he stepped forward to bow, saying, "Father."

Pan Weiqing nodded slightly and walked away. Pan Renman watched his father's departing figure, his heart filled with anxiety, and he chased after him: "Father... I heard from the servants that Nan Shuang had an accident, I wonder... where is she now?"

Pan Weiqing stopped upon hearing this, and snorted coldly, saying, "It wasn't her who got into trouble, but Renzhong, your second brother!"

"Second Brother..." Pan Renchang frowned slightly, "What's wrong with Second Brother?"

“Your second brother…he…is dead.” Pan Weiqing said, his hands behind his back, looking at Pan Renman, each word distinct.

"What?" Pan Renman's heart skipped a beat, his tone filled with astonishment, "Could it be...could it be...Nan Shuang?"

Pan Weiqing fell silent abruptly, his brows furrowing deeply. After a pause, he slowly said, "Man'er, when you have time, go and keep your Aunt Su company... just as a substitute for Nan Shuang..."

"Yes, Father..."

Pan Renman had always known that his younger sister was no peaceful person, but this time was different; the matter had escalated considerably. Pan Renzhong was dead—the usually taciturn and timid Pan Renzhong was dead—and at the hands of his own sister. Although they weren't particularly close, the sudden news filled him with a sudden pang of sorrow. Even though his father had always doted on Nan Shuang, this matter could not be left unresolved. Thinking of Aunt Su in the side courtyard, Pan Renman's expression changed slightly. He closed his folding fan and let out a long sigh.

Their mother was Fang Zheng, daughter of Fang Rugong, the Vice Minister of Rites. Not only did she come from a scholarly family, but she was also a renowned beauty. She and her father were childhood sweethearts, and after their marriage, they lived in perfect harmony and mutual respect. The only drawback was that their mother's health had been poor since giving birth to their eldest son. Therefore, their grandmother arranged for their father to take a concubine. This resulted in their second son, Pan Renzhong. Although it is said that a mother's status rises with her son's, this mother was not favored, and naturally, her son did not win Pan Weiqing's favor either. While he didn't necessarily mistreat them, he simply left them in a secluded courtyard, ignoring them completely. Pan Weiqing himself rarely entered their residence.

To put it simply, Pan Xijin and Pan Renzhong were like heaven and earth in the Grand Tutor's mansion—one was deeply favored by Pan Zhongxun, so much so that even the loss of a single hair on his head would cause the entire Pan household to be on edge for half a day; the other was relegated to a remote corner, and even when he was bedridden, few people paid him any attention. Watching Pan Weiqing's departing figure, Pan Renman waved his folding fan and turned to walk towards the side courtyard.

It was already evening when Ye Changsheng returned after examining Young Master Pan. Carrying her medicine box, she was about to go back to have dinner with Jia Ling. Although the sun was setting and twilight was falling, she was in a very good mood. This Young Master Pan, though "frail and sickly," was truly a refined gentleman. His speech and manners were composed and unhurried, his features elegant and refined, his appearance handsome and otherworldly; he was proficient in music, calligraphy, painting, chess, and poetry. Furthermore, he was gentle, kind, and polite, instantly inspiring a sense of closeness.

But in Ye Changsheng's eyes, this Ninth Young Master was a very strange person—he was gentle to everyone, spoke little, yet every word struck at the heart, leaving no one able to hide. His smile, though gentle and serene, was also ethereal and unfathomable—and his words… Why did he say he wouldn't live past three months? Why did he ask her to cover it up for him? Did he really trust her so much, so certain that she wouldn't expose his secret?

Facing the large artificial hill outside the pond, Ye Changsheng yawned, her thoughts turning to tonight's dinner—she wondered where Jia Ling had gone. Although she always saw him hopping around, it was rare for him to be nowhere to be seen at mealtimes. She figured she'd have to look for him later. Just as she was watching a bird startled into flight from the artificial hill and was about to walk away, she suddenly spotted someone she recognized in the small pavilion by the pond, standing out conspicuously. Ye Changsheng peeked in—it was none other than the strange woman who had bumped into her in her haste that morning.

At this moment, the woman sat blankly in the corridor, staring at the carp rolling in the pond. She didn't move for a long time. He couldn't help but feel uneasy. Could it be that he had knocked the woman silly?

After hesitating for a moment, Ye Changsheng slowly walked over, cleared his throat, and asked, "How are you, young lady?"

"How dare you! This is Princess Xuanci of the current dynasty. Who are you?"

Suddenly, a burly woman appeared beside the woman, pointing at Ye Changsheng's nose and shouting loudly, startling him. Ye Changsheng pointed at himself, then glanced at the woman, never expecting to have bumped into a princess.

"Me?" Ye Changsheng patted his chest and said hesitantly, "I'm a doctor... I just started here recently."

Princess Xuanci turned her head slowly and looked directly into Ye Changsheng's eyes: "You are the doctor who treated Xijin?"

"Ah..." Ye Changsheng nodded with a smile.

"Then...then..." The princess seemed confused and anxious, muttering to herself, "Do you know...what illness does Xijin have? He...he must be unwilling...unwilling...yes, that must be it because of a pre-existing condition..."

Ye Changsheng's eyebrows twitched. It seemed that Princess Xuanci and Pan Xijin were acquaintances, and their relationship was quite special. The fact that she cared so much for Young Master Pan made her, a doctor, feel ashamed. However, at this moment, the princess seemed to be a little obsessed, rambling on and on about something she couldn't understand.

At this moment, a servant in brown robes hurried over and reported that someone from the palace had sent word that the princess should return to the palace as soon as possible. Xuan Ci shook her head, and after a moment, she suddenly gripped her handkerchief tightly, her eyes flickering as she said softly, "You go first, I have something to do, I'll be back in a little while."

The palace maid seemed hesitant, and asked in surprise, "Princess..."

Xuan Ci seemed determined; her face darkened, and she said sternly, "Go back!"

"Yes..." Seeing this, the palace maid didn't dare to persuade her further. With an unfriendly expression, she gave a few instructions to the maids who remained to serve her, and then led her entourage away. Ye Changsheng, seeing that she was no longer needed and had disappeared early in the morning, wondered why Princess Xuanci was so eccentric and different from others. It was almost dark, and she hadn't returned to the palace yet. Could it be that she was going to spend the night in the Grand Tutor's mansion? Changsheng gazed at the gradually fading night, slowly closed her eyes, and smiled gently. Living is hard, and living a vibrant life is even harder. Everyone has desires they want to fulfill, and it's not impossible that some people would risk everything and resort to any means to achieve them.

Time flies like dew on flower petals. Spring fades in the blink of an eye. The fairy with emerald eyebrows longs for your return, leaning against the jade city and pearl trees. Little did she know that after our parting, the beautiful breeze and bright moon would bring no trace of the past.

That evening, Ye Changsheng was having dinner with the Pan family. Pan Xijin, due to his "poor health," always had his meals brought to his room by servants, while Pan Nanshuang was said to have committed a crime and was imprisoned—naturally, the murdered Pan Renzhong was also gone. Ye Changsheng looked at the table full of delicious food, the aroma wafting to her nose. Apart from the somber expressions and furrowed brows of the entire family, she was quite satisfied with the dinner at the Pan residence.

Just as she reached out her chopsticks and picked up a chicken leg, a shrill scream suddenly came from outside the door. While everyone was still stunned, a little maid with pigtails stumbled in, immediately kneeling down with a thud, trembling as she cried, "Master, Master...something terrible has happened...Miss...Miss is dead..."

With a clatter, Pan Weiqing's chopsticks fell to the ground. His eyes widened, still somewhat hesitant. "Who did you say died?"

“Miss Nan… Miss Nan Shuang… she, she…” The girl’s face was pale, as if she was very frightened, her teeth chattering, and she could not speak properly.

Just as Pan Weiqing was dumbfounded and confused, Pan Zhongxun slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his face dark and his voice rising as he shouted, "Quickly, lead the way!"

The girl scrambled to her feet and walked forward shakily. The others seemed to snap out of their daze and followed her out. Ye Changsheng followed the crowd eastward, walking for about the distance of two incense sticks' worth of walking, until they reached an inconspicuous corner of a garden. They looked left and right, but couldn't see Pan Nanshuang anywhere—before Pan Zhongxun could ask, someone screamed "Ah—!" and pointed sharply at a small pond, shouting, "There she is!"

Ye Changsheng leaned over and saw a woman in a pale yellow dress floating on the water, bobbing up and down, surrounded by a group of carp. The scene was as if the fish were dancing around her—it was extremely eerie.

"Nan Shuang..." Pan Weiqing only realized that the corpse in the pool was indeed his daughter when he saw the red jade pendant on the waist of the person in the pool. He suddenly looked up and rushed forward, as if to jump into the water. Everyone saw this and quickly pulled him back. The servants beside him had already jumped into the water and pulled the body out.

Pan Renman stared blankly at his sister's body in the pond, momentarily stunned. Wasn't it Renzhong who had the accident? How come Nan Shuang also died? Wasn't she locked up...? How could she have drowned in the pond...?

The body was finally pulled out of the water. It didn't seem to have been submerged for long. Pan Zhongxun stepped forward to examine it closely when suddenly a heart-wrenching cry rang out. Everyone made way and turned to look. They saw a richly dressed lady, supported by a maid, walking briskly towards them. She knelt down with a thud and buried her face in Pan Nanshuang's body, bursting into tears. It was Fang Zheng, the birth mother of Pan Nanshuang and Pan Renman.

Seeing this, Pan Renman stepped forward to help his mother up, but was unexpectedly pulled away by someone. He looked up and saw that the person behind him was none other than Master Zhong, the Taoist master from Sichuan whom his grandfather relied on greatly. He glanced at him and said in a low voice, "Let your mother cry."

By this time, everyone had fully realized—Pan Nanshuang, the eldest daughter of the Pan family, had drowned. A flurry of whispers filled the air.

"Oh my God... how could the young lady have drowned in the pond?"

"The Second Young Master also died yesterday. I heard that Miss Nan Shuang was also there at the time... Could it be... that he committed suicide out of guilt?"

"I think Miss Pan's death is suspicious. Wasn't she supposed to be under house arrest? When did she get out again?"

The dim, yellowish light of the setting sun shone on Pan Nanshuang's cold, icy skin. The crowd felt a chill run down their spines, and after a flurry of chatter, they dispersed. Pan Zhongxun ordered that Pan Nanshuang's body be set aside for the time being, to be discussed further once the people from Yingtian Prefecture arrived.

The debate between truth and falsehood is a game within a game.

midnight.

Pan Mansion Backyard

Pan Xijin followed Ye Changsheng to examine the body in the middle of the night under the pretext of "wanting to know the truth." At this moment, the elegant and leisurely noble young man with eyebrows like distant mountains was standing behind Ye Changsheng, holding a candlestick and watching her with great interest. Ye Changsheng bent over and looked at Pan Nanshuang in the coffin for a long time with great care. He held a small knife and moved it around on her body, up and down and left and right. Half an hour had passed, but he had neither cut off the flesh and bones nor examined the wounds or tested for poison.

"How is it?" Young Master Pan showed no impatience, turning his head slightly and asking gently—Pan Nanshuang's body was no different from that of an ordinary drowned person, her face slightly swollen and her skin pale. At least he wanted to know if Ye Changsheng had noticed anything after observing for so long.

"Ah..." Ye Changsheng straightened up. Although she had only met the woman in the coffin once, she had left a deep impression on her. This once powerful and domineering young lady of the Pan family was now lying in front of her, wrapped in a wet brocade robe, looking disheveled. She was no longer the arrogant and domineering woman she once was, but a corpse. Life is unpredictable, and fortune and misfortune are intertwined. Ye Changsheng sighed and shook her head, saying, "I'm afraid Miss Pan originally intended to escape by climbing over the wall... However..."

"However?" Seeing Ye Changsheng finally speak, Pan Xijin blinked and followed up.

Ye Changsheng exclaimed "Ah!" and suddenly remembered that Pan Xijin hadn't appeared at the crime scene that day. He patiently explained, "When Miss Pan Nanshuang was found during the day, her body was lying face down in the pond, surrounded by a large group of carp... It was truly bizarre..."

"Doctor, does that mean something is wrong?" Pan Xijin raised an eyebrow, looking at the corpse in the coffin—which, while not exactly grotesque, was certainly not peaceful—his expression remained unchanged, his voice as clear as shattered jade.

Ye Changsheng nodded, opened Pan Nanshuang's clothes, and took out a small blue cloth package from her bosom. He slowly unwrapped it; although the contents were damp—it was still easy to see in the dim candlelight that it was a packet of lotus seed paste pastries. "This is... a pastry?" Pan Xijin stretched out her slender fingers, gently picked up a piece, and examined it carefully.

Ye Changsheng put down the bag of pastries in his hand and smiled slightly. "This should be what those carp were after—I don't understand why Pan Nanshuang, who committed suicide out of guilt, would have a bag of pastries with her. As far as I know, this Miss Pan was locked in her bedroom by her father for mistakenly killing her brother, and was not given tea or water... So, could it be that Miss Pan, after escaping her bedroom, felt hungry and grabbed a bag of pastries from somewhere? But if she was determined to die—how could she carry such a small amount of food in her arms? This doesn't make sense." Ye Changsheng paused, and with a swift movement of his right hand, he made a large cut on the right chest of the corpse. "Furthermore... Ninth Young Master, please take a look."

As Ye Changsheng spoke eloquently, he made a cut on Pan Nanshuang's swollen body. Pan Xijin's heart trembled slightly, but she still calmly watched Ye Changsheng poking around in Pan Nanshuang's chest with a small knife. After a while, seeing her picking at something, she asked, "What is that?" Ye Changsheng smiled slightly: "Nothing at all—no bloating in the abdomen, no wrinkles on the soles of the feet, no dirt or sand under the nails."

It was precisely because Pan Nanshuang's lungs contained nothing—no stagnant water, no mud or weeds.

There's only one answer—she was already dead before she fell into the water.

“That was murder.” Young Master Pan said with a smile, seemingly pleased that Ye Changsheng had discovered the problem. His tone was so calm that he showed no sadness or anger at his niece’s unprovoked murder, as if the person lying in the coffin was someone completely unrelated to him.

"Is this Miss Pan and that dead second young master at odds? Are they irreconcilable enemies?" Ye Changsheng took out various needles and idly fiddled with Yu Qiushuang's corpse... Suddenly, he looked up and asked curiously.

“I rarely leave the West Courtyard, so I am not familiar with family matters…” Pan Xijin gave a very apologetic smile. “The doctor might be able to ask Renman… If I remember correctly, he should be Nanshuang’s full brother.”

"Hey—" Ye Changsheng bent down and carefully examined Pan Nanshuang's nose by candlelight. Something seemed to have appeared there—in fact, she saw two thick, snot-like substances suddenly flowing from Pan Nanshuang's nose. "What is this?" Pan Xijin was also curious. He held the lamp closer and remembered that Pan Nanshuang's face had never had these things before.

It was pitch black outside the window, with thick clouds obscuring the moon, and only the howling of the night wind could be heard.

A cool breeze seeped in through the crack in the door, causing Ye Changsheng's clothes to flutter. She murmured, "Terrible, so terrifying..." Carefully, she put all the small knives and needles into her bundle, wiped her hands, and looked up at Pan Xijin, who was separated from her by a coffin. She lowered her voice and asked, "It's getting late... Shouldn't Ninth Young Master, who is 'not feeling well,' also rest?"

Pan Xijin looked at her for a while, then a slow smile appeared on his lips: "Yes."

When Ye Changsheng yawned and slowly returned to her room, she noticed a figure pacing anxiously back and forth. It was none other than Jia Ling, whom she hadn't seen in a long time. Seeing Ye Changsheng finally return, his eyes lit up, and he hurriedly pulled her into the room. His dark, bright eyes gleaming, he rubbed his hands together and lowered his voice, saying, "I... I think I saw a murder..."

Upon hearing this, Ye Changsheng stopped half-yawning, widened his eyes, and asked, "Who did you kill?"

"It was that girl who tried to whip me that day... uh, young lady." Jia Ling scratched her head.

"Did you see who that person was?" Ye Changsheng asked in a deep voice, frowning.

“No…” Jia Ling shook her head, a hint of confusion in her eyes. “When I passed by the garden, I saw her sneaking out of the corridor. I hid, intending to kick her again—but when she passed the rockery, I couldn’t see her anymore, until—she suddenly screamed. I was about to go over and see what was going on when I suddenly saw a woman in yellow running out in a panic—I was afraid of being seen…I didn’t come out for a long time…when I got closer, I found that the girl…was already dead…in the pond…”

Ye Changsheng exclaimed "Ah!" and his brow twitched: "Are you sure she's dead? Didn't she call for help?" What if Miss Pan was just unconscious? Wouldn't Jia Ling have been letting her die without helping? If so, her death would have been too unjust. Jia Ling snapped his folding fan and cleared his throat: "If I say she's dead, then she's dead. Have you ever seen someone who's unconscious thrown into a pool and not wake up? Besides, a maid happened to pass by and found her, so I slipped away."

"The woman in yellow..." Ye Changsheng murmured to himself, "Pan Nanshuang was also wearing yellow before she died..." He turned to look at Jia Ling for a moment, then said calmly, "You were also wearing yellow..." Ye Changsheng's voice was very calm, with absolutely no intention of deliberately frightening anyone, but Jia Ling detected a hint of horror in his otherwise calm and even tone. He subtly moved closer to Ye Changsheng: "What... do you mean..."

"Do you remember what the woman in yellow looked like?" Ye Changsheng asked, seemingly changing the subject, as he slowly looked at Jia Ling.

“I didn’t see it clearly at the time…” Jia Ling stared blankly at Ye Changsheng, her mind a jumbled mess, “I only remember that there seemed to be a golden phoenix on her head…”

Ye Changsheng nodded with great satisfaction, then yawned again, "I'm sleepy, I'm going to sleep." Jia Ling was a little stunned, seemingly puzzled that Ye Changsheng, after learning such a shocking secret, simply yawned and went to bed. After being waved out of the room by Ye Changsheng, the young master Jia stood at the door for a while, shivering involuntarily in the cold wind. After muttering a few words, he obediently went to bed.

The next morning, Ye Changsheng got up early, carrying her small cloth bundle, and slowly went to the west courtyard. Although the Pan family was going through a turbulent time, the matter of treating Pan Jiu Gongzi's illness could not be neglected. Since it was still early, the servants were busy preparing meals and cleaning, and the journey was quiet. Ye Changsheng arrived at Pan Xijin's bedroom door and saw that it was not closed. She peeked inside and went straight in, only to find that there was someone else in the room—a refined-looking man of about forty years old, dressed in simple clothes, was sitting at the table, discussing something with Pan Xijin. Their conversation seemed quite heated, and his mustache trembled as they spoke back and forth. Pan Xijin remained silent, but a hint of weariness appeared between his brows.

Hearing snippets of conversation about "princess," "lord," and "standing on equal footing," Ye Changsheng paused for a moment before slowly speaking, "Ninth Young Master..."

The middle-aged man was startled, never expecting there to be someone outside. Moreover, given his internal strength, he hadn't noticed her before she spoke. He suddenly looked up and saw a woman in white, carrying a coarse cloth bundle, smiling awkwardly at them.