Chapter 800: Throwing a Stone to Test the Path

No one saw Pan Yun's motion of flicking the powder, so none knew Sun Xin had been knocked unconscious by her; the guards who had been staring at the county office turned to see Sun Xin being supported by Pan Yun and immediately rushed forward to take him, frowning: "What's wrong with Master Sun?"

Pan Yun: "This Daoist priest noticed his complexion was poor—may I take his pulse?"

The guards sized up Pan Yun: "You know medicine?"

"This Daoist priest is a physician from Mount Sanqing, with a passing knowledge of herbal healing."

Upon hearing this, the guards immediately let her examine him.

After all, with so many eyes watching, they weren't afraid a lowly Daoist priest would play tricks.

Pan Yun immediately placed three fingers on his pulse, then frowned after a moment: "His pulse is deep yet weak—this is exhaustion, imbalance of heart and lungs. Has this official not slept well lately, been overworked, and burdened by excessive worry?"

Master Sun had indeed gone without sleep for several nights, bearing the heavy burden of catching the thief while juggling dealings with local officials—could his worries be anything less than immense?

Added to that, they had chased the thief nonstop, with barely any rest—let alone Sun Xin, a longshi, even the guards themselves felt utterly drained.

One guard: "So he fainted from exhaustion?"

"Yes. What he needs most now is medicine and rest in bed," Pan Yun frowned. "Since this official is a government servant, why isn't he resting inside the county office?"

She worried: "If we delay further, his heart won't withstand this physical strain—perhaps…"

The guards only knew the Wang Fu had lost precious treasures and silver; they knew nothing of the secret letter or ledgers. Hearing this, they agreed it was best to seek help inside the office now.

Sun Xin was, after all, the Wang Fu's longshi, an imperial court official—if anything happened to him, all these guards would be implicated.

They exchanged glances, then lifted Sun Xin and rushed toward the office, dragging Pan Yun in with them.

"Quick, prepare medicine and brew it for our lord!"

Pan Yun stumbled as they dragged her into the county office, hastily replying: "Yes, sir!"

Wu Zhihong paced anxiously in the main hall of the county office; when he saw Sun Xin being carried in, his eyes lit up. Meeting Pan Yun's gaze, he barely suppressed his excitement, then approached with a calm expression: "Who are you?"

"Magistrate Wu, this is our Wang Fu's longshi—he collapsed from exhaustion. Please arrange a room for him to rest, and have this physician prepare and brew medicine at once."

The two guards detained in the side room heard the noise and rushed out, shocked: "What's wrong with the lord?"

"Collapsed from exhaustion. Where are the thief and the stolen goods?"

"The county office demands official documents from the Wang Fu to apprehend the thief and seize the loot—what a nuisance."

"Forget that for now—save Master Sun first. Once he's healed, he'll handle the documents himself."

The guards realized this was true and joined in urging Wu Zhihong to arrange a room and medicine for Sun Xin.

Wu Zhihong was extremely hospitable—he immediately led them to the guest quarters in the back courtyard and ordered servants to take Pan Yun to the storage room to gather and brew medicine.

Together they worked, and by the time Sun Xin drank the medicine, thirty minutes had passed.

Fortunately, it was only a sleeping powder—if he'd truly collapsed from exhaustion, this delay would have left him cold and lifeless.

But the guards didn't know this; they saw Sun Xin's eyelids flutter and his fingers twitch, as if waking—then quickly close again.

Pan Yun immediately exhaled in relief: "Good—he's saved. He's just exhausted. After taking the medicine, a good sleep will restore him."

The guards doubted: "Really?"

Pan Yun nodded.

One guard leaned close, pressing his ear to Sun Xin's chest, listening carefully to his heartbeat and the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. He stood and nodded to his companions: "He's asleep."

The guards sighed in relief.

Pan Yun smiled.

Of course he was asleep.

The sleeping powder was already wearing off, but she'd given him a bowl of calming medicine—she guaranteed he'd sleep until midnight.

Pan Yun exchanged a silent glance with Wu Zhihong. Midnight—perfect.

The secretary seized the moment, stepped forward, bowed to the guards, and smiled: "Your Excellencies, Master Sun won't wake for a while. I'll have servants attend to him—would you care to eat, wash, and rest?"

The guards exchanged glances. After days of travel, they were exhausted—they truly needed rest.

And bathing…

Just thinking of it made them feel grimy, caked in dust, suffocatingly uncomfortable.

Several guards nodded; the secretary immediately led them down himself.

The secretary personally guided them to the bathhouse, had them scrubbed clean, dressed in fresh clothes, then led them back to a warm, cozy room.

The secretary had a brazier lit, ordered hot food and dishes from the kitchen, and warmed a pot of wine.

The secretary sighed: "Today is the twenty-ninth. Tomorrow is New Year's Eve."

The guards, hearing this, fell into a daze and sighed: "Yes. Tomorrow is the New Year."

Who else but them had to spend the holiday chasing thieves on the road?

The secretary poured wine for them, smiling: "Work is endless. Now is the time to feast and drink—don't waste these fleeting years. Come, gentlemen, drink up."

The guards relaxed, no longer questioning why Sun Xin had refused to enter the county office.

They were all officials—could the county office possibly harm them?

The guards let down their guard, clinking cups with the secretary. Being sent away during the holiday, they weren't without resentment—and some confusion.

"How did the thief even get into the Wang Fu? How did he steal the treasures and silver from the study without a sound? No one knows. Even stranger—he didn't flee with the silver but openly bought grain and cloth to aid the poor. We chased him, and now we look like the villains."

"I've held this thought for a long time—could the thief be a righteous bandit? If so, what does that make our Wang Fu?"

"Our Prince is a good man—frugal, never oppressed the people, unlike the former Prince."

The secretary smiled inwardly. From the letters he'd obtained, this Prince Lu was nothing like he appeared—worse than his father.

The former Prince Lu may have been reckless, but at least he never harmed the people—and he died early.

The former Prince Lu died at only twenty.

If this Prince Lu could die as early as his father, perhaps none of today's troubles would exist.

The secretary poured more wine, smiling bitterly: "No matter who this thief is, we're the ones who suffer. He's ruined our New Year."

"Bah—it's only three days off. It'll fly by. No rest? Fine. Secretary, don't use the holiday as an excuse to withhold the thief—we're waiting for our Prince and heir."

The secretary nodded vaguely and kept pouring them wine.

They drank until they slumped over, and soon all were sprawled out, snoring loudly.

The secretary had taken medicine beforehand, but still staggered slightly as he stood. He shook his head, waved for the servants to carry them to bed, then shuffled out himself.

From another guest room came terrified screams. The secretary jolted awake, turned to see Xiao Hong playing with Sun Xin in the room, shook his head, and walked away.

The next day, when the guards woke up, they had been stripped bare and thrown into jail.

Furious, they shook the bars, nearly tearing the prison apart: "Wu Zhihong, how dare you imprison the Wang Fu guards? Who gave you the authority?"

Wu Zhihong refused to see them—he was interrogating Sun Xin in the main hall.

On New Year's Eve, most clerks were off duty; only the county commandant and a few trusted bailiffs remained on watch, guarding the hall, even the shouters of "Weiwu!" absent.

Several chairs stood on either side of the hall, where Pan Yun, Xue Shao, Wang Cong, and others sat divided by side.

Sun Xin had been tortured half the night; when dragged into the hall, he was dazed and unsteady.

But upon seeing Wu Zhihong, he snapped back to awareness.

He glared at Wu Zhihong with hatred and shouted: "Wu Zhihong, how dare you scheme against me? Do you know who I am?"

"Sun Xin, Chief Historian of Lu Wang Fu," Wu Zhihong slammed his gavel hard, pointing to Xiao Hong beside him: "Do you know who she is?"

Sun Xin sneered: "I don't know!"

Xiao Hong lifted his chin, staring straight into his eyes: "Bold of you. Last night you were whispering sweet nothings to me, and now you pretend not to remember?"

Sun Xin caught the sunlight streaming into the hall, his courage rising: "You're conjuring ghosts. You think replacing her with someone who looks alike—uh uh uh…"

Sun Xin's eyes bulged as he watched Xiao Hong vanish before him, then reappear moments later—extremely close.

Being frightened by a ghost in daylight is not the same as being frightened by one at night.

At that moment, Sun Xin's body turned icy cold; he stiffly lifted his head to look at Wu Zhihong.

Wu Zhihong spoke in a low tone: "Sun Xin, above every head are divine eyes. Now that it's come to this, won't you confess?"

Sun Xin's lips trembled; after a long silence, he rasped stubbornly: "I… I don't know what you're talking about…"

Wu Zhihong slammed his gavel hard and roared: "Sun Xin, do you think I have only Xiao Hong's testimony? Bring in Cao Qianliu!"

Cao Qianliu was a merchant, somewhat well-known in Ji'an County; his name did not appear on Fu Dayan's list, and he never visited Sanjing Biyuan—no one suspected he worked for Sun Xin.

"You ordered Cao Qianliu to murder Qian Zhixiao. The evidence is overwhelming. What do you have to say?"

Seeing Cao Qianliu dragged in, Sun Xin's eyes flickered with pain; after a moment, he declared decisively: "Yes, I did order Cao Qianliu to silence Qian Zhixiao."

He clenched his teeth and blurted it all out: "I also killed Yan Yan. But I wasn't the mastermind—Yang Ji was involved too. We were just playing, it got out of hand, and by the time we realized it, she was already dead. We had no choice but to bury her."

Wu Zhihong slammed his gavel: "Still lying!"

Sun Xin: "I've admitted to the murder and ordering the cover-up. Are you now demanding I confess to crimes I never committed?"

Wu Zhihong sneered: "What about Jiang Fangzheng?"

Sun Xin froze, his body tensing; the more nervous he became, the more his face relaxed. He shifted his gaze slightly, avoiding Wu Zhihong: "I don't know who you mean."

"You don't know, but Qian Zhixiao knew. Xue Xin knew," Wu Zhihong sneered. "Sun Xin, do you think staying silent will shield Lu Wang and Jiang Fangzheng?"

He turned to the secretary.

The secretary immediately stepped forward, holding a box.

Wu Zhihong opened it, took out a stack of letters and two ledgers, placing them one by one on the desk, his gaze sharp as he stared at Sun Xin.

Seeing these items, Sun Xin knew he was finished—but he said nothing, closing his eyes in silence.

From then on, no matter how Wu Zhihong interrogated him—even with torture—he refused to speak again.

Xiao Hong paced frantically: "Why are you insisting on questioning him? He already admitted killing me! At this point, you should just sentence him to immediate execution to avenge me!"

Wu Zhihong shook his head: "Among all these people, you died differently, and after death, you remained different. You didn't die from sexual abuse—you died for another reason. I believe that reason is crucial."

Xue Shao nodded: "Important enough that he dares not speak—because speaking might drag Lu Wang down."

Pan Yun turned to Xiao Hong: "Xiao Hong, you must have uncovered a massive secret. Expose it, and Lu Wang is finished."

Xiao Hong froze: "I'm that powerful?"

"We must interrogate further," Wu Zhihong gritted his teeth. "Several letters used coded language; others were veiled. If we submit them, Lu Wang will find excuses. But these two ledgers are useful—they're not enough to convict Lu Wang outright. We need more evidence."

Pan Yun sighed bitterly: "Too bad the Embroidered Uniform Guard isn't here. If we handed Sun Xin to them, what wouldn't they extract?"

Wu Zhihong: "…Master Pan, that's misguided. Under torture, how do we know what's truth and what's lies?"

Pan Yun: "Master Wu is truly kind—even to a man like him."

Wu Zhihong shook his head: "I'm not pitying him. I fear that in terror, he'll falsely implicate the innocent. Master Pan, remember the lesson of past cases. We must be cautious."

He would rather spend a hundred times the effort finding solid evidence to pin Lu Wang down than use torture on Sun Xin. Once he opened that door, who knew what he might confess?

Xue Shao nodded: "If we abandon evidence and rely solely on confessions, under torture, no one is innocent. Pan Yun, don't forget the Yue family case."

Back then, the Yue families were wrongfully accused—tortured into confessing to crimes they didn't commit, and all ended up ruined. Pan Hong and Xue Xuan were also wrongfully implicated.

Pan Yun shuddered, recognized her error, and nodded: "I understand."

She turned to Xiao Hong beside her.

Xue Shao and Wu Zhihong also turned to Xiao Hong.

Xiao Hong stepped back two paces, timidly asking: "W-why are you looking at me?"

Pan Yun: "After Sun Xin realized you were a real ghost, he's been terrified of you."

Xue Shao: "Though you can't recall now, seeing the people involved again might trigger your memory."

Wu Zhihong offered enthusiastically: "I can rearrange the guest quarters to recreate the exact layout of the old Sanjing Biyuan room. Xiao Hong, you'll have to endure it—interrogate him at night, no torture, just don't scare him to death."

Xiao Hong's eyes darted—this was exactly what she wanted. But… "Can I bring a helper?"

Pan Yun: "Hong Yan?"

Xiao Hong nodded: "What's the point of just one ghost? Too bad you sent all the other victim ghosts to reincarnation. I can only ask Hong Yan to weave the Illusory Realm."

Pan Yun nodded: "Fine. Let Hong Yan help you."

Xiaohong flew off happily.

Wu Zhihong indeed arranged the guest courtyard a bit, making it look more like the guest courtyard of the Sanjing Residence. Tossing Sun Xin inside, it was as if he had returned to those days of old.