Chapter 793

Seeing Miao Zhen was anxious: "How could it just disappear? What happened after?"

Xiao Hong thought hard and said: "After that, I practiced dance and learned songs with the other girls in the house, but it's all hazy—I can't remember clearly."

Pan Yun: "Who killed you?"

Xiao Hong's smile faded; she shook her head: "I don't know. I still can't recall much."

She suspected: "Is my soul not fully restored yet? Could you perform another ritual, chant the soul-recalling incantation again?"

After scanning her up and down, Pan Yun said: "Relax. Your soul is complete now. It's common for the dead to lose memories. If you can't remember, forget it—we're heading straight to Ji'an County."

The group went directly to the outskirts of Ji'an County, then walked into the city.

Pan Yun checked the time; it was still early before noon, so she went straight to the government office.

She wondered how far the investigation had progressed, who the new magistrate of Ji'an County was, and whether he'd be willing to dig deeper upon seeing Xiao Hong, this wronged ghost.

As the group stood at the government office gate, they looked up—and the man just stepping onto the steps turned around, his eyes widening instantly.

Pan Yun also widened her eyes in astonishment: "Good heavens, Magistrate Wu, if you had connections, why didn't you say so sooner? I was worried sick when I went to sea for you."

Magistrate Wu: "... Magistrate Pan, watch your words. What connections do I have?"

Pan Yun leaned close and whispered: "You have no connections? With such a massive case in your jurisdiction, how are you still keeping your official hat?"

Magistrate Wu gazed at her with a forlorn look: "Do I look like someone who's keeping his hat?"

Pan Yun leaned back, scanned him up and down, and sympathized: "Magistrate Wu, it's only been half a year—how have you gotten so thin? Oh my, you've got white hairs now, and your face is full of wrinkles..."

Magistrate Wu brushed off her hand, his gaze fixed on Xiao Hong, standing under the umbrella: "Is this... Liu Xiao Hong?"

Pan Yun nodded.

Magistrate Wu swallowed hard and whispered: "Is she alive or a ghost?"

If Pan Yun weren't here, he'd have suspected Liu Xiao Hong was still alive—but since Pan Yun was here, whether she was human or ghost was uncertain.

Pan Yun lowered her voice: "A ghost. And we've found the rest of her bones."

Magistrate Wu's eyes brightened slightly; he whispered: "Has she remembered anything?"

Pan Yun shook her head.

Magistrate Wu sighed in disappointment, but quickly rallied: "This past half year, I've consulted many Daoist Priests and Monks, and studied countless texts myself. I know that when a person dies, to prevent their soul from lingering out of attachment to loved ones, they usually lose part of their memory. Not remembering is better—it spares her pain."

Magistrate Wu said: "She died a cruel death. In the investigation, she shouldn't be involved at all. Just tell us what she knows, and that's enough."

Pan Yun looked at him in surprise.

Magistrate Wu: "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Pan Yun: "I never expected Magistrate Wu to be so compassionate."

Magistrate Wu didn't understand, frowned: "What kind of talk is that? Never mind—whatever it means, let's go inside and talk." Inside, she saw the same County Commandant, clerks, and government office Runners—all of them thinner, haggard.

Pan Yun couldn't help asking: "Has the Great Ming stopped paying your salaries? Or are they withholding them? Why does everyone look so miserable?"

Magistrate Wu glanced at her: "Immediately after the case broke, I sent a messenger galloping to Jingcheng to report it."

Pan Yun nodded: "I know that. Then what?"

"This case is grave, and involves the Yang family. The Ministry of Justice immediately dispatched inspectors. Thanks to the testimony you helped obtain, the case was concluded in under a month—statements, witnesses, physical evidence—all compiled and sent to Jingcheng by the Ministry's inspectors."

Pan Yun nodded.

Magistrate Wu sighed: "But after the case reached Jingcheng, there was no further word. The inspector, Commissioner Xiang, told me before leaving that this case spanned many years and was already a backlog before I arrived—my responsibility wasn't primary. And since I actively pursued the case, though I might lose my post as magistrate, I'd likely be reassigned as assistant magistrate or commandant elsewhere. But he left—and never sent word again..."

"I've been pressing for updates, but you know—I'm just a magistrate. By protocol, I must route requests through the Prefect's office to the Provincial Administration, then to Jingcheng."

Before Magistrate Wu finished, Pan Yun's eyes filled with sympathy.

Procedures aren't wrong—they ensure fairness to some degree—but sometimes they take painfully long.

The secretary brought a teapot and poured tea. Magistrate Wu continued: "After two months of pressing, they replied the statements were inaccurate, so the Ministry of Justice and Censorate sent new officials to re-investigate."

Pan Yun: "Did they come?"

"They came—left just two months ago," Magistrate Wu looked up at her. "Qian Zhixiao and Xue Xin both retracted their statements. The inspectors spent over a month investigating. Fortunately, though they retracted, our collected physical and witness evidence remains solid. But they've been gone two months with no word. The Prefect says the imperial court has been busy with lifting the maritime ban and the Japanese silver mines, so they've had no time to deal with us."

"Nonsense," Pan Yun frowned. "All civil and military officials have their duties—do they sit around all day discussing only the maritime ban and Japanese silver mines? Nothing else matters?"

Magistrate Wu sighed: "Who says otherwise? With a sword hanging over your neck, neither falling nor staying—how can you live well?"

Pan Yun's eyes darted; she leaned forward across the table: "Magistrate Wu, who's obstructing this? And why?"

Magistrate Wu leaned closer, whispering: "I've thought hard about this. Someone among those imprisoned may not have confessed fully. Someone on the outside fears they'll drag others into the mud, so they're protecting him. I suspect—though I have no proof—that this is tied to Liu Xiao Hong's death."

He glanced quickly at Liu Xiao Hong and whispered: "Of all involved, only Liu Xiao Hong died in a peculiar way—no portrait of her death exists, no one knows who killed her, and even how her bones were handled is different."

Pan Yun: "Who?"

Magistrate Wu wore a gloomy expression.

Pan Yun clicked her tongue: "What's there to fear? We're speaking in private—I won't betray you."

Magistrate Wu whispered: "This past half year, I've been observant. I noticed Xue Xin's attitude is odd. The longer he's imprisoned, the more confident he seems about walking free—and his family keeps pouring money into the jail, bribing everyone."

"Isn't Qian Zhixiao the highest-ranking official?"

Magistrate Wu whispered: "Qian Zhixiao is nearly dead. He looks utterly defeated. Though he retracted his statement, it's just the desperate gasp of a dying man—he has no confidence he'll walk free."

Seeing Pan Yun lost in thought, Magistrate Wu quickly added: "Of course, these are only my suspicions—no proof. They mean nothing. Alas, with the case stalled, without solid evidence, any report we submit will just be sent back."