Chapter 9: Truth and Deception

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Qian Da’s morning had been quite eventful. Early in the day, the steward informed him that from now on, he would serve the Second Young Mistress of the Ningyuan Marquis Mansion.

Overjoyed, he hurried to see his only friend and current master, receiving his first assignment: to secretly gather information about a certain official.

Qian Da had initially thought Lin Yun wanted him for some physical task, which he could handle. But spying on someone secretly left him uncertain of his abilities.

“Second Miss, they all say I’m slow-witted. If this matter is important, I’m afraid I might mess things up for you,” he confessed.

Lin Yun shook her head. “Qian Da, you’re the person I trust most. I don’t think you’re dull; you’re just simpler than others and learn more slowly. I believe you can do it.”

Qian Da was so comforted by her words that he felt dizzy with hope and believed he could succeed. He left the mansion alone.

Standing on the street, Qian Da felt lost. How was he supposed to find this Lord Pei? Asking passersby was the easiest way, but if anyone found out the Second Miss was inquiring about Lord Pei, it would be a problem.

Since the Second Miss valued secrecy and wanted as few people to know as possible, that method was out.

Troubled, Qian Da spotted a somewhat familiar figure carrying two baskets of vegetables. He recognized him as Zhang Qiang, a former friend who once worked as a vegetable delivery man.

Their friendship had lasted only a short time because Qian Da often helped Zhang Qiang deliver vegetables. But when his master went out frequently and Qian Da became busy driving the carriage, he no longer had time to help, and their friendship faded.

Suddenly, Qian Da realized the Second Miss was right: he wasn’t hopelessly stupid. If the Second Miss asked him to do something, he would try his best. He had an idea.

Using the excuse that he was lonely and wanted to be friends with Zhang Qiang, Qian Da was “persuaded” to deliver vegetables all over the city.

It wasn’t a clever plan since Zhang Qiang’s deliveries might not include Lord Pei’s residence, but Qian Da was determined.

He carried vegetables, pulled the cart, and worked up a sweat. Unfortunately, none of Zhang Qiang’s customers was Lord Pei.

But Qian Da didn’t lose heart. Known as a fool, if Zhang Qiang could trick him, so could other delivery men.

Wang Daniu, puzzled, asked Zhang Qiang why he was delivering vegetables so quickly and looked so fresh.

Zhang Qiang laughed, pointing at Qian Da, lowering his voice: “Look, that fool will do anything if you say you want to be friends with him.”

Wang Daniu eyed the hefty man nearby, who looked strong and imposing. He didn’t believe anyone could be that stupid but figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.

He approached, suppressing his fear of Qian Da’s strength, and trembling said, “I want to be your friend. Can you help me deliver vegetables?”

Qian Da nodded simply, agreeing foolishly.

One and two, then three, Qian Da was endlessly bullied but easily coaxed with a few kind words. His calves swelled from running, arms ached from carrying vegetables, and his shoulders bore raw, bloody marks from the cart’s rough ropes.

Yet Qian Da didn’t feel tired. He even prepared himself for the possibility he might not find Lord Pei’s residence today. He would just keep delivering until he found Lord Pei, the Right Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Investigation Bureau.

Perhaps fortune favored the diligent. While delivering vegetables to Liu Jiujin, Qian Da was loading them onto the cart when Liu Jiujin asked the steward, “Why does the Pei family need so many vegetables today?”

The steward marked off the Liu, Zhao, Wang, and other families in the ledger, indicating their deliveries were done. Hearing Liu’s question, he glanced at the Pei family’s entry: “It’s all for Lord Pei, the Right Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Investigation Bureau?”

Liu Jiujin replied, “Yes. There aren’t many family members, so why so many vegetables today?”

The steward thought for a moment. “Oh, it’s the seventh day memorial for Lord Pei; some close relatives came over. These little feasts usually have a lot of vegetarian dishes.”

Qian Da, upon hearing “Right Vice Censor-in-Chief Pei” and “seventh day memorial,” hid his shock and pricked up his ears, though they only exchanged a few more words.

Liu Jiujin was surprised, “Lord Pei wasn’t weak. How did he suddenly die?”

“Looks like a thief broke in. I passed by the Pei Mansion a few days ago and saw several officials from the Court of Justice coming and going. They must be investigating,” the steward casually replied.

Qian Da delivered this batch with extra care, memorizing Liu Jiujin’s route. As a carriage driver, remembering roads was no trouble.

Arriving at the Pei residence’s back gate, he saw servants with white mourning bands collecting the vegetables. While carrying them, Qian Da said, “Right Vice Censor-in-Chief Pei was a good official. Please accept my condolences.”

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The Pei servant, perhaps accustomed to such words, only nodded.

He didn’t deny it, so Qian Da knew the news of Lord Pei’s death was true, and this was indeed his residence.

Nearby, Liu Jiujin was surprised that the fool even understood some social etiquette. At a funeral, Qian Da’s words were appropriate, and the servants gave them an extra tip.

After leaving Pei’s mansion, Qian Da delivered to two more families. When Liu Jiujin took him to load vegetables again, Qian Da spoke up, “I’m short on money lately. Can you lend me some? I’ve already helped you deliver.”

Upon hearing this, Liu Jiujin said he was also out of money and that Qian Da needn’t trouble himself with deliveries anymore, secretly wondering, “After helping so many people, why did he ask me for money?”

Having successfully escaped, Qian Da thought, “The Second Miss is the smartest. Just mention needing money, and false friends disappear immediately.”

***

Ningyuan Marquis Mansion.

Lin Yun, hearing Qian Da’s report, wondered if she’d misunderstood. “Qian Da, what did you say?”

Qian Da repeated, “Second Miss, the Lord Pei you asked about died seven days ago. Today is his seventh-day memorial.”

Convinced she’d heard correctly, Lin Yun felt lost. The original owner’s only last wish was to send a letter to Lord Pei, but now the recipient was dead. How could the letter be delivered?

Had she delayed too long?

Lin Yun blamed herself but quickly reasoned she couldn’t count the days from her current reincarnation.

According to the timeline, this was her eighth rebirth. Today was day four. The original owner died three days after arriving in the capital, meaning Lord Pei had already died the day the original owner arrived.

And the original owner had tried her best, arriving at the Jingzhao Prefecture while ill, fainting as soon as she explained the situation, never getting a chance to send the letter.

Listening to Qian Da’s casual recount of how he found out through delivering vegetables, Lin Yun steadied herself, pulling her thoughts back to the present.

Qian Da looked rather disheveled. His clothes were neat that morning but now worn raw at the shoulders.

“Second Miss, I didn’t reveal that I was actively investigating Lord Pei. I shouldn’t have left any clues, right?”

Lin Yun shook her head and praised him, “You did very well. Even if I went myself, I might not have done better. You worked hard today. Rest more over the next two days.”

Qian Da’s eyes sparkled with joy at her praise. Before leaving, he promised to keep the matter secret.

After Qian Da left, Lin Yun returned alone to her room, unable to resist touching the letter hidden in her sleeve.

Now that the recipient was dead, what should she do with the letter?

Should she just abandon the original owner’s only last wish?

Lin Yun recalled the young girl with dimples who smiled beneath the osmanthus tree.

But if she didn’t let it go, what could she do?

Lin Yun’s own life in the Great Zhou was precarious. What power did she have?

After much thought, she sighed.

Her life was gained without merit. Having taken over another’s body, she couldn’t leave matters unresolved.

The letter had nowhere to be delivered, but she could at least read it to decide what to do.

If it contained trivial matters, she could burn it in honor of Lord Pei.

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If the letter involved something critical, she would need to consider carefully and handle it appropriately.

Yet before even opening it, Lin Yun felt a sense of unease.

Lord Pei died so coincidentally. The original owner’s last wish was to deliver this letter. Could it really contain only trivial matters?

***

In the largest tavern in the imperial city, the Crane’s Call, two young men dressed in red official robes sat in the refined “Orchid Pavilion” room. Although both wore red robes, the embroidered badges on their chests and backs differed—one bore a golden pheasant, the other a clouded wild goose.

The handsome man wearing the clouded wild goose robe raised an eyebrow. “Yuan Heng, you are always busy with nobles. It’s rare to see you have time to seek me out for a meal. If you have something to say, just say it.”

Xie Jun put down his chopsticks, his expression cold and serious. “I’ve asked, but I doubt you’d tell me.”

Yuan Heng was Xie Jun’s courtesy name, a form of address reserved for close friends and mentors. Sitting across from him was Lu Xuanhe, Deputy Minister of the Court of Justice and Xie Jun’s friend.

Lu Xuanhe took a sip of wine. “Regarding Pei Hejing, I can’t disclose anything to Lord Xie Jun, but I can speak to Xie Yuan Heng. Within the Court of Justice, there’s fierce disagreement over whether to thoroughly investigate this case.”

After all, was the thief’s injury a mere accident or premeditated?

If planned, what was the motive?

The Chief Justice was a seasoned political veteran, and the other Deputy Minister was deeply involved in court intrigues. It was unclear whose interests each represented. For now, everyone stuck to their own versions of the truth.

Lu Xuanhe asked, “I heard Pei Hejing handed over a memorial before his death, and it seems to be in your possession. Does it relate to his death?”

“That matter I cannot disclose to either Deputy Minister Lu or Lu Xuanhe,” Xie Jun replied.

He then lifted his wine cup, pressed his lips lightly to it, feigning a sip, but the wine only touched the edge of his mouth.

Lu Xuanhe chuckled in frustration, muttering, “You’ve always been like this since childhood.”

Having gained the information he sought, Xie Jun calmly resumed eating. He hadn’t had a proper meal in a long time.

When they finished, Lu Xuanhe stood to leave, wanting to distance himself from his scheming friend. Unexpectedly, Xie Jun mumbled, “The Second Miss of the Ningyuan Marquis Mansion has returned. Did you know?”

Lu Xuanhe frowned. “I know, but what does that have to do with us?”

“It has little to do with me, but it might with you,” Xie Jun said enigmatically, always speaking in riddles and leaving others to guess.

Lu Xuanhe, used to pondering cases, was already worn out. He asked directly, “How could it concern me? If there’s a connection, it would be between her and my cousin Qi Tang. But she’s not really my proper cousin.”

Within the clan, relationships among the women were complicated. The affair where Lin Qi Tang secretly swapped babies with the Second Miss was tangled and unresolved, but Lu Xuanhe had no intention of getting involved.

Xie Jun adjusted his sleeves and left, leaving only one sentence: “Who says she’s a proper cousin? Who can be sure?”

Hearing this, Lu Xuanhe was stunned.

What did he mean?

Was Xie Jun implying the child in Yangcheng might not have been swapped after all?

“Hey, Xie Yuan Heng, explain yourself…”

But Xie Jun walked away as if not hearing his friend’s call, disappearing down the street.