Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Thirty: The Arrangement

A searing light blazed within Chen Chang’an’s half-blind pale eyes as he fixed his gaze upon the indistinct figure of Madam Wang. “Regarding this Painter Xu, what other things have you had to do for him?” he asked.

“Or rather, could you recount in detail everything he did upon his first arrival at the Princess’s residence?”

Madam Wang’s eyes flickered between Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng. Only after receiving their tacit approval did she reply, “All I know is that Painter Xu arrived yesterday. As for anything else, I am unsure. If you want to know more, you might seek out the maids who helped the Princess receive him yesterday.”

Chen Chang’an picked up the thread smoothly, “Could I trouble you to summon them here?”

“This...”

Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng spoke in unison, “Why call them over?”

“Naturally, it concerns the case,” Chen Chang’an replied, arching his brows ever so slightly.

Li Shu considered briefly, then bowed to Madam Wang, “Please, fetch the few maids who accompanied the Princess in receiving Painter Xu yesterday.”

“Yes, sirs, please wait a moment.”

Soon after, in the forecourt of Princess Changning’s residence, two maidservants stood—Xiaoyue to the left, Xiaozhu to the right. Since no bystanders were permitted near the Empress’s portrait session, Chen Chang’an reasoned it best to start by questioning those who had interacted with Xu Hezi, hoping to glean some clue.

Flashing a broad, toothy smile, he spoke gently, “Sisters, I mainly wish for you to recall, in detail, what Painter Xu did or said upon his arrival yesterday.”

Xiaoyue and Xiaozhu exchanged a glance. The former replied, “It was just talk about painting the Empress’s likeness, nothing else of note.”

Xiaozhu thought for a moment, then added, “Yes, that’s right. Oh, but Painter Xu did bring a rather remarkable piece of paper for the occasion.”

“What sort of paper?” Chen Chang’an’s mind whirred.

Xiaozhu had spoken offhandedly, not expecting such a reaction. She took care to recall and replied, “Painter Xu brought a sheet called tung oil paper. He said that if the Empress’s portrait were painted on it, it would endure unharmed by water or fire, lasting for centuries.”

“Tung oil paper!” Wu Yuanheng exclaimed, unable to contain himself.

Chen Chang’an, now utterly focused, pressed on, “Sir Wu, you’re familiar with it?”

Wu Yuanheng nodded. “Tung oil paper was first produced in western Xiang, but the technique has since been lost; only a few pieces remain. It’s exceptionally rare. That Xu Hezi would bring a piece especially for the Empress’s portrait shows great thought.”

Li Shu, ever pedantic, interjected, “From what I know, tung oil paper is not only resilient to water and fire, it also has a curious property: whatever is painted or written upon it can be hidden by special means, yes?”

The portly Wu Yuanheng nodded. “Indeed. Once hidden, its surface appears pristine and white. Only by specific methods can the image or text be revealed again.”

A crack of thunder seemed to split Chen Chang’an’s mind. At last, he had grasped the crux of the matter—a thread that tied together the entire case, including Xiaolian’s death and the headless corpse.

His thoughts flashing rapidly through each scene, Chen Chang’an’s expression softened and brightened. The truth—it was so unexpected and delightful! The seemingly intractable mystery that had stymied all progress might finally be unraveled, thanks to Madam Wang and the two young maids.

He sighed in relief, then smiled warmly and bowed to Xiaoyue and Xiaozhu. “Thank you, sisters. That’s all—please, go about your duties.”

The two maids curtsied and withdrew.

Wu Yuanheng, thoughtful, spoke up, “What’s the point of all these questions?”

Before Chen Chang’an could answer, Li Shu urged impatiently, “Let’s get back to the case and not waste time on trivialities. If you really want to watch Xu Hezi paint, I’ll take you another time.”

“You’re right—the case must come first. Gentlemen, follow me. And you as well, brother-in-law!”

Chen Chang’an bowed and led the two toward a side room in the Princess’s residence. Throughout, Su Dingfeng, who had yet to utter a word, pressed his lips together, swallowed his questions, and silently recited his mantra—“Follow the sword, follow the sword”—as he obediently trailed behind.

Inside, after ensuring they were alone, Chen Chang’an closed the door tightly. “Sirs Li and Wu, please spread word at once that the case is solved: Xiaolian died for love.”

“The headless corpse is the lover Xiaolian met outside the residence. Two nights ago, they plotted to elope, but were discovered by another young man from the Princess’s estate—one who also loved Xiaolian. The three quarreled, and in the ensuing struggle, tragedy struck.”

“Bang!” Su Dingfeng struck the wall with a jubilant fist. “At last! The truth is revealed! Excellent!”

Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng, having listened from beginning to end, first widened their eyes, then breathed heavily, their faces twitching violently. Finally, seeing Su Dingfeng’s manic reaction, they exchanged a glance filled with contempt—certain he was utterly mad.

Su Dingfeng sneered, “What are you staring at?”

Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng had nothing to say.

Chen Chang’an managed a wry smile. “Brother-in-law, don’t get carried away—I was making it up.”

Su Dingfeng’s expression fell at once, his eyes turning cold and sharp as blades; he retreated silently behind the door, gritting his teeth.

What on earth is wrong with this Bashan Sword Sect immortal, getting all worked up for nothing? Wu Yuanheng fumed silently.

Li Shu, more grave and serious than ever, said, “Chen Chang’an, if that’s not the truth, why have us announce it? Are you unable to solve the case and just seeking an excuse to cover it up?”

“No, absolutely not. If this were any other time, Xiaolian’s death might not matter much, but with the Empress’s birthday approaching, a misstep would give the political factions ample reason to attack.”

Wu Yuanheng’s heavy jowls tightened. “Young Chen, don’t act recklessly!”

Chen Chang’an’s expression was calm—more composed than ever. “I would never act rashly. The truth will be revealed to you tomorrow. But before then, if we announce Xiaolian’s death as a crime of passion, it will lull our adversary into complacency.”

Li Shu and Wu Yuanheng, their minds whirling with confusion at the sudden turn, found themselves completely lost. Only this morning, the case had seemed utterly opaque—now Chen Chang’an appeared to see straight through it.

“Fine, so tomorrow we’ll have the truth!” Su Dingfeng, still elated, slapped the wall again; cracks spread like a spider’s web.

Chen Chang’an muttered, “Good heavens...”

Li Shu: “...”

Wu Yuanheng: “...”

“What exactly is going on?” Wu Yuanheng ignored the white-robed swordsman, whom he dismissed as a fool, focusing instead on Chen Chang’an.

With supreme confidence, Chen Chang’an replied, “I can’t say yet. Tomorrow, all will become clear. Moreover, that mysterious person skilled in the primal art of Zai Sheng will certainly appear again. I want to ask: are you confident you can capture them? Or rather, is there anyone in Chang’an capable of breaking Zai Sheng’s technique?”

He already suspected what the other party intended. Now was the time to seize the initiative, to consider every possible variable in advance and ensure there would be no mistakes.

Wu Yuanheng and Li Shu, more baffled than ever, could only trust Chen Chang’an, recalling the Threefold Temple incident and the confidence he inspired.

They glanced at Su Dingfeng.

The white-robed swordsman lifted his chin arrogantly. “Why are you looking at me? I only protect my family’s son-in-law. I won’t help you catch any thieves.”

Li Shu quickly averted his eyes, assuming a look that said he’d never considered Su Dingfeng up to the task. “The primal art Zai Sheng ranks ninth—its power is terrifying. In all of Chang’an, only one person can truly counter it.”

“Who?” Chen Chang’an stepped forward. “I promise tomorrow you’ll have a satisfactory answer, and know the truth of it all. But we must be fully prepared, so that not a single culprit escapes.”

Wu Yuanheng, glancing at Li Shu, answered on his behalf. “The Deputy Commander of the Black-robed Guards, Cao Wu. Her art of Compassion breaks Zai Sheng, but she may not be willing to assist.”

Chen Chang’an stroked his chin, considered for a moment, then declared with conviction, “She will help.”