“Prince Rong has said that he would not share the carriage with commoners.”
‘Oh, he really remembers what I’ve said.’ Ji Yunshu acquiesced and also mounted into the carriage.
She had barely dropped down the curtain and sat down when she heard a familiar voice outside. “Yunshu, I’m here to bid you farewell.”
Ji Yunshu raised the curtain with her pale finger and saw the sweaty face of the Magistrate outside. “Lord Liu?”
He seemed saddened and frustrated by her departure. “Yunshu, after leaving like that, how am I going to take care of the cases in the yamen?”
“Are you insisting that I stay here?”
“Well…” Magistrate peeked in Jing Rong’s direction fearfully and hesitated. “I wouldn’t dare to keep whomever Prince Rong seeks.”
Ji Yunshu pondered for a second and said, “Lord Liu, go to the Li family village and look for someone called Li Hai. He’s a coroner. Let him replace me at the yamen.”
“Li Hai?”
“He worked on the abandoned corpse case a year ago. He’ll surely be of great help.”
“Yes, I’ll make sure to look for him.” Magistrate Liu hurried to express his approval. He sighed and added, “with the fuss at the Ji Mansion, it’s probably for the best that you leave. But, if you ever return, don’t forget to tell me about it.”
Ji Yunshu was often frustrated by this not-so-bright Magistrate, especially with all the cases she has gone through over the last five years. However, she had to admit that he was very kind to her. Whenever she needed money or was not in a good mood, he would always try to appease her with silver. He tried his best to meet all of her demands.
‘Hmm, I wonder how much extra silver Jing Rong will be willing to add in for the Lin Capital case… Ah, nevermind, I’m straying off again.’ She pursed her lips into a smile and looked at the Magistrate one last time. “Farewell, you blockhead.”
She retracted her head back into the carriage and dropped the curtain. A smile appeared; she would miss that blockhead Liu.
“Shu’er, who’s a blockhead?” Wei Yi stared at her and asked.
She shook her head and did not answer him.
The carriage picked up its pace, and they were out of Jinjiang City before long. She thought of the place one last time; there was nothing worth remembering, except for that plum flower park and the young man who stood under the tree. The party entered the mountains following the small path from the city, and, when night fell, so did the vernal rain. The rain patted the ceiling of the carriage, and gusts of cold wind blew the curtain open and penetrated within the carriage, accompanied by a few droplets. Some of them fell onto the veil Ji Yunshu wore and sank into her cheeks, bringing a tingling sense of coldness. Ji Yunshu kept her eyes closed for a while, and, when she opened them once more, she saw Wei Yi sound asleep with the two rolls of paper between his arms.
The carriage waggled from the uneven road, which was not maintained by the kingdom. Ji Yunshu tugged at the curtain and saw the forests and the woods outside: they must still be within the mountains. She looked at the road ahead and saw a couple of guards leading the way with torches in their hands, casting a bright light upon the road they were traveling on. Her gaze halted on Jing Rong. She stared at his figure, at the gloss of his damp silk robe. Jing Rong seemed completely unaffected by the downpour.
“Prince, we’ve found a broken temple ahead!” Someone shouted.
Ji Yunshu immediately shrank back into the carriage. For reasons she herself could not quite explain, she was afraid that Jing Rong would notice her. They halted at the entrance of the temple. Ji Yunshu shook Wei Yi until he woke up, and pulled him into the derelict building. Jing Rong’s guards gathered some dry wood and piled them up into two fires. Jing Rong, Lang Po, Ji Yunshu, and Wei Yi gathered around one of them, whereas the dozens of guards huddled around the second. They had barely sat down when another group of people rushed into the building. Five or six of them carried a coffin which looked quite heavy, and their clothes were completely soaked.
“Quick, quick! Get it in quickly! Before the body of Madame becomes wet!” A man, who had put up an umbrella for his master, ordered the people who carried the coffin.