Chapter Twenty-Eight: Master of Disguise

He voiced his doubt.

Yet he observed nothing unusual about the cabinet being burned by the fire.

Was it just his imagination?

But soon enough, he noticed something else was different.

The hands holding the props belonged to different people.

"What are you saying? Did you see it wrong? That’s clearly the same woman from before," Master Zhu asked in confusion.

The onlookers were all marveling at the wonders of the trick.

"Remember the woman who was bound with iron chains earlier? When she came up to touch the prop, there was a noticeable knife scar on her arm."

A knife scar?

Master Zhu shook his head—he had been too caught up watching the magician’s moves to pay any attention to the assistant.

"A scar is nothing strange. They practice magic tricks all year long; injuries are inevitable. But look at the assistant currently beside the magician—the skin on her arms is perfectly unblemished."

Wen Qi, hearing this, grew interested.

He quickly moved to a spot a little closer and inspected, only to find that Han Qing’s suspicion was well founded.

Could it be that this was no iron-chain escape, but that someone had truly been burned alive inside that cabinet?

"Should we have them open the cabinet at once?" Wen Qi, now gripped by this suspicion, could no longer bear to watch.

To murder someone before so many witnesses—

This was a blatant disregard for the law.

"Do you think it would do any good now?" Han Qing gestured at the cabinet, heavy with chains.

The raging flames had nearly reduced the cabinet to ashes.

"Even so, we can’t let these murderers walk free, can we?"

"The Court of Judicial Review is not far from here. Have someone send word. The two of us will keep following them; this magician’s plot is not so simple," Han Qing said quietly.

They nodded, suddenly feeling the festival had turned ill-omened.

"Who could’ve foreseen this? We came seeking celebration, only to stumble straight into a murder case," one of them grumbled.

Even the nearby hawking and bustle could not lift his spirits now.

"Good folk, today’s magic show has ended," the masked man announced, beginning to slowly pack away his props—it seemed he was preparing to close up shop.

But Han Qing kept his eyes fixed on the now battered wardrobe.

Were they planning to move it away?

Yet in its current state, the cabinet was all but destroyed.

"Xiaocui, find a few people to carry this thing out," he ordered.

The masked man spoke in a low voice.

The woman’s expression changed slightly, but she had no choice but to obey.

By now, the men from the Court of Judicial Review had arrived.

Some of them followed the woman, ready to intervene at once should anything suspicious occur.

"Are we still following them?" Master Zhu sensed something was off—the path led toward the home of Butcher Wang in the east of the city.

Could the magician also live there?

But he’d never heard of Butcher Wang having any dealings with these folk.

"If we don’t follow, how can we uncover the truth?" came the answer, calm and patient.

It was not yet time to act rashly.

If they startled the culprits, all their painstaking efforts could be wasted.

"Xiao Wu, why are you closing up so early today?"

"My wife’s health is poor, so I thought I’d return early," he replied.

Butcher Wang nodded; it seemed this man had a good reputation in the neighborhood—at least the locals held no ill will toward him.

"There’s no need to go further," Han Qing halted, choosing instead to wait for the Court of Judicial Review’s men to make the arrest.

He himself circled the small courtyard several times but found nothing unusual.

When Wen Qi arrived, he interrogated the woman and opened the wardrobe for inspection, but there was no trace of anyone having been burned alive.

Indeed, it was empty.

"Could it be that our suspicions were mistaken?" Master Zhu began to doubt himself. He had not considered this possibility at first, but the other two constantly harbored suspicions, making him feel as if everyone was a villain.

"Perhaps so. If it’s a misunderstanding, let’s go," Han Qing replied coolly, his expression apologetic, as though he truly believed he’d been mistaken.

But in truth, there was not a shred of evidence to support their theory.

To act too aggressively would only give their enemies leverage.

"Sigh, I told you it was a false alarm. All thanks to you two, our joyous festival was ruined. Next time there’s anything interesting like this, I won’t invite either of you," Master Zhu complained at length.

But the other two paid him no mind.

Back home—

"Xiuxiu, look what I brought you!" Han Qing called out, carrying lanterns from the festival and various sachets and trinkets.

Seeing him parade his prizes, Jiang Xiuxiu blushed.

"I’m already married into your family. Why bring back these childish things?"

"I thought you’d like them, so I bought them anyway," Han Qing replied earnestly.

It was nothing, really—perhaps she was too focused on being a good wife and mother to think about her own wants.

How she must be suffering.

"Thank you, husband," she said softly, her sweet tone making his heart flutter.

Indeed, the charms of a beautiful woman were hard to resist.

Yet the events at the lantern festival were not so easily dismissed from Han Qing’s mind.

He made a point of visiting the Drunken Flower Pavilion.

"A rare guest! How do you have time to visit my humble place?" Zhilan teased him.

"Can you help me gather some information?"

"What a question—this is a place where all sorts mingle. What news can't I dig up for you?" Zhilan replied with a confident smile.

"Have you heard of a magician at the lantern festival, always wearing a mask…"

"Don’t make it sound so mysterious. That’s Liu Xiaowu, who lives next to Butcher Wang’s house. He sells vegetables at the market by day and performs at the festival by night. I hear his wife is frail."

Zhilan’s answer matched what Han Qing had already learned.

But if life was so hard for him, how could he possibly commit murder?

"Do you know who his assistant is?"

"People say it’s his wife’s younger sister," Zhilan replied, still puzzled as to why such a minor matter warranted Han Qing’s personal attention.

Besides, she’d never heard that Liu Xiaowu had such capabilities.

"Then tell me—why would someone like him risk everything to commit murder?"

Murder?

Impossible!

"If you were asking me about Butcher Wang, I might believe it. But Liu Xiaowu? He seems honest and meek. How could he ever have the courage for murder?"